Authors: Emma Raveling
"So Julian's your great-grandson."
"Augustin provided as much guidance as he could. But Julian needed help. His mother…" She paused, then shook her head. "He was but a child."
It was clear from her tone that Julian had a difficult time.
"The greatest suffering for a parent to bear is seeing a child in pain." Her face tightened. "The hardest weight for a child to bear is seeing a parent in pain. It is part of what binds us together. Without the past, there is no present. Without the present, there is no future."
I stared at the table and thought of the parents of the twelve kidnapped children. Nick's red-haired mother tearing apart the Trident trying to find him.
Marcella's hand protecting her stomach.
"I'll get them."
I didn't realize I'd spoken the words aloud until Nexa leaned forward.
"Get them what?"
Unflinching, I met her gaze. "I promised Marcella I'd get them."
She briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the irises swirled. "You believe this is what she said?"
"I heard her —"
"You heard what you wished to hear," she said sharply. "You don't know how to listen."
I didn't care what she thought. Those were the last words Marcella said to me before slipping into the darkness and I wouldn't forget it.
I narrowed my eyes. "Why didn't you tell me you were working with Julian to find the Shadow?"
"Why don't you tell me what happened last night in Lyondale?"
"Stop evading."
"I'm not evading, dear." She dug into the bag for more chips. "You keep asking the wrong questions."
"What question should I be asking?"
"That's a question you need to ask yourself."
I never realized how quickly a headache could surge to life until I met Nexa.
"You believe your Virtue is the key to eliminating Aquidae," she continued.
I sighed and rubbed my temple. What was she getting at?
"When you use it, where are you?" She bit into another chip and swallowed. "In the middle of all the magic and power that flows through you, where is your river? The things about you that are true?"
I didn't know.
Every time I fought Aquidae, I lost track of myself. The first time I tapped into my Virtue, it was the night Ryder died. The rage driving me was relentless. Tristan's eyes, his voice, pulled me from the edge.
And with each Aquidae encounter, the blinding fury worsened. Recently, it was the flash of Alex's coat and Julian's eyes that brought me back.
She didn't seem to expect an answer. "Naida used Clairvoyance in combat."
My mother was the first ondine to figure out how magic could help. She'd used Virtue on herself, seeing a few seconds into her future. Using that information, she was able to successfully fight Aquidae for years.
"Do you think Naida was strong or her magic was strong?" Nexa asked.
"Both."
"When she successfully eliminated Aquidae, did she win because of her magic?"
It sounded like a trick question.
Without her magic, my mother wouldn't have been able to fight. But having magic didn't necessarily make you a fighter, either.
"My mother knew how to use magic in the right way," I said slowly. "That means she's the reason behind the win."
The magic worked because of her. Not the other way around.
And I suddenly suspected where this was heading.
"When Naida used her Virtue, did she lose sight of who she was?" Nexa poured herself a glass. "Did someone have to snap her out of it?"
I mentally cursed Julian and his big mouth. "No."
"Then why do you believe your Virtue is the key?" She picked up the bottle of scotch and studied it. "Aren't you the key?"
"Being the
sondaleur
changes everything —"
"Does it?" She put the bottle down. "You're still an ondine and magic comes from us. We control it, guide it."
I shot a pointed look at the mess of addictive vices around her. She really shouldn't talk about control.
Nexa sighed and I couldn't tell if it was from weariness or sadness. "The first time you accessed the source of your Virtue wasn't the way I hoped it would happen."
Of course not. Because what happened to Ryder shouldn't have happened at all.
And it wouldn't have if I'd had the total power of Empath.
But it'd come too late.
"You touched the full capacity of your Virtue in reaction to a difficult moment. Now you believe it's the only way to use it." She gave me a sidelong look. "Intent is everything in magic."
"My only intent is to do —"
"There is no one intent. Many possible intentions pave the path of the
sondaleur
."
No matter what I did, it wasn't enough.
Everyone wanted me to be something and all I wanted was to do my job.
"Isn't ending the war the only thing the
sondaleur's
supposed to do?"
"That's not the question that must be asked."
"Well then, what is it?" I snapped.
Enough with the mind games.
Her entire body stilled. She reminded me of a lion the second before it pounced on its prey.
"The question you must ask is simple." Throaty voice reverberated with power. "Are you fulfilling your role as
sondaleur
because you genuinely believe others are worth protecting? Or because you believe your life is worth so little?"
I dug fingers into my thighs to keep from shaking.
Only one point had been bashed into me over and over again.
By my mother. Jourdain. By the events that continued to happen around me.
The sole purpose of my life was to fulfill a prophecy.
No more, no less.
"Sounds to me like the exact same thing. There's no difference in the end result."
Fierce, unrelenting eyes latched onto mine.
"My dear, the entirety of the world is defined by that difference."
TWENTY-THREE
It was the last day before winter break and I strode into the Training Center tired and pissed off.
Exams took up most of the week and I was pretty sure my performance on today's history test cemented my failing grade.
Aubrey and Ian finished blocking Gilroy's accounts almost a week ago, but we had yet to hear from him. Despite the gardinels and chevaliers scouring every section of Lyondale, we had no new leads on the location of the abducted victims.
The Training Center was quieter than usual. The constant hammering and drilling from construction had finally stopped.
I hurried into the gymnasium and joined the other elites on the mat.
"More observers today," Alex muttered.
Off-duty chevaliers filled two-thirds of the bleachers. More interesting was the number of gardinels sitting among them.
Selkies didn't observe elite classes. Ewan said gardinels found us too boring, especially compared to their own training.
Their ninja school was apparently much more entertaining than ours.
"You doing all right?"
Alex's concerned tone caught me off-guard.
With everything going on, we hadn't talked for a few weeks. Besides sitting with Cam in the cafeteria, Alex was also busy with his post-Gilroy punishment of cleaning out the Training Center.
"Yeah. I mean…" I stopped. "I'm fine."
"They'll find them," he said quietly. "The gardinels and chevaliers. They'll find the children."
"I know."
But it wasn't so simple anymore. For Alex, the gardinels and chevaliers were superheroes who cleaned up all the problems in the war.
The Shadow was sending the
sondaleur
a direct message. It was a battle that ultimately came down to the two of us.
I nudged him. "Still cleaning out mats?"
"Have a week left." He gave a lazy grin. "At least I got to stake my first Aquidae. Kind of makes it worth it."
I knew exactly what he meant.
Cam joined us, eyes flickering over the full bleachers. "They better not pull a surprise test. My brain exploded with that essay in French Literature."
The door opened and Tristan walked in wearing a t-shirt and workout pants.
Judging by the shining looks on everyone's faces, I was the only one who didn't want him here.
With a grim set to his expression, Garreth joined Tristan on the mat.
Unlike Gabe, Garreth continued fulfilling his responsibilities as Chief Gardinel. He never missed a class and kept a tight rein on Haverleau security.
But the toll it'd taken on him was obvious.
Granite eyes appeared darker and more unyielding. He was thinner, the weight loss deepening the harsh lines on his face.
A barely restrained ferocity now radiated off him. I suppressed a shudder at what he'd do when he finally got hold of the Aquidae who killed his brother.
"Since this is the last class for two weeks, we'll be doing something different." He stepped to the side. "Prince Belicoux has agreed to work with you."
An excited murmur swept through the elites and something inside cringed.
Tristan stepped forward. "A key component in combat is understanding strengths and weaknesses. Both yours and your opponent's."
He turned to Garreth. "What are a selkie's weaknesses?"
"In seal form, destruction of the elemental brand means instant death. In human form, damage to our
pedaillon
produces the same result."
That was how the four gardinels died. The Aquidae first inflicted enough wounds to bring them down. Before selkie healing magic could kick in, they smashed the stone of the
pedaillon
.
Selkies could also die when multiple, serious injuries caused their healing magic to fail.
But Aquidae primarily killed gardinels by leaving behind a destroyed
pedaillon
. The symbolism of crushing both selkie forms was powerful.
"Protecting your vulnerabilities while developing your strengths maximizes your advantage as a fighter." Tristan gestured. "Aucoin, come up."
Blaise stepped forward with determined anticipation.
"What are a demillir's strengths and weaknesses?" Tristan asked.
"Demillirs have extra-human strength and speed, though not as strong and fast as selkies." He sounded a bit resentful on that point. "Our eyesight and hearing are also better than humans, but less than selkies. We don't have healing abilities and can be injured like any mortal."
"So your strengths are extra-human, but your vulnerabilities are human." Tristan paused. "Let's imagine a worst-case scenario. How difficult would it be to fight in the dark?"
"Our eyesight works well during the night. But if it was completely dark, it'd be hard to see."
"What if your arm was badly wounded? Or your legs? What if you couldn't hold a
kouperet
and one or more Aquidae were coming at you?"
Everyone shifted, uncomfortable. We knew this was the reality of war. But that didn't make it easy to swallow.
"I don't know," Blaise admitted.
Tristan looked like he'd expected that answer. "The fundamental difference between elementals and humans is that every race in our world is born from magic."
Ethan spoke up. "But demillirs can't do magic like ondines and selkies, Your Highness."
How freaked would everyone be if they knew at least two demillirs contradicted that statement?
Tristan shook his head. "Whether you practice it or not is irrelevant. The demillir race is descended from the magical binding between an ondine and her mate. Magic forms the core of all elementals."
He moved next to Blaise on the center of the mat. "That magic provides us with a natural instinct far superior to any human. Our senses are connected to life around us. It's an ancient knowledge that comes from being one of the elements. Every one of us is born with it."
His eyes briefly rested on me. "Honing this inner awareness will better prepare you for any situation."
Ewan stepped forward with a black length of cloth.
"No sight. No hands. No legs."
Oh, crap. This was going to be a hard one.
"Unlike selkies, you don't have this inborn elemental awareness all the time," Tristan continued. "So we must create a situation that triggers them to rise."
Ewan quickly blindfolded Blaise and restrained his hands behind his back. Another rope tied his ankles together, binding his legs.
A hushed silence descended.
"Survival does not rest on external abilities. It lies in what we control within us."
Tristan paced around Blaise, sharp eyes assessing his opponent.
"Now fight."
His fist flew. The punch caught Blaise in the upper left arm, sending him down to the mat.
Blaise rolled and pulled in his knees to lurch back up. He immediately re-adjusted his stance, balancing on the balls of his feet to allow for quicker reaction time. Beads of sweat dripped off his face.
Tristan came from the right. At the last moment, Blaise hopped away from the spinning back kick. He bent his knees and jumped, tied legs rising in a perfect front kick against Tristan's chest.
Tristan easily moved aside, but the aim was dead-on.
Damn. Blaise was holding his own.
He landed gracefully on his back. This time, he pulled himself up faster.
Tristan circled, biding his time. Every step was measured and predatory.
Blaise's head slowly turned from right to left. Almost as if he was tracking Tristan.
I didn't know how that was possible. My eyes followed every move, but I couldn't hear anything.
Only that absolute selkie silence.
Tristan suddenly lunged with a right upper-cut and Blaise jerked, pulling his head out of the way by mere millimeters.
Spontaneous whistling and cheering erupted from the bleachers. It was impressive.
Tristan stopped, a wide smile spreading across his face. Ewan removed the ropes and blindfold.
The elites burst into applause and Blaise's face flushed with pleasure.