Chapter Twenty-Nine

I tumbled down into the darkness that sucked me in like a ravenous beast. The earthen tunnel collided into my body as I went over and over…

Until I was falling.

I cried out, but my voice was cut off by the cold liquid that engulfed me. I thrashed wildly, searching for a foothold in the water, but everything was dark. I could see nothing, and I could only feel the frigid, slick water against my skin.

Suddenly, my feet found the ground and I propelled myself upward with what little strength I had left. I gasped for air when I broke the surface. Moonlight streamed down from various cracks in the ceiling of the tunnel. It was the same shaft I had entered when Nezira was taken to the guillotines. I pushed myself over the edge of the water channel and forced the water from my lungs.

I was a sopping mess. The skirt of my sleeveless crimson dress was ripped in half and covered in mud. My hair was an unbounded, tangled mess, and my bare knees were knocking together from the cold. As a plus, my shoes were missing.

And Titus…

It didn’t make sense—it wasn’t possible. Titus couldn’t be the Sylph Queen’s son. She was the ruler of all the nymphs. All the nymphs. Male nymphs didn’t exist. But he said he was her son. Why would he lie to me?

I shook my head to clear it all away. Titus and Mayra made a sacrifice. I would escape through the hole in the tunnel like last time. I would run away. I would alert Natz. Alert Aria. Save them…

I sobbed on the ground, pounding it with my fist in frustration. I could do nothing. Even if I did alert someone—even if I alerted Aria—it would be too late. Therin would take Titus and Mayra would be killed.

I had never felt so powerless before. I had never had such a reason to power before.

And I had failed. I had failed to obtain that power. The spirit rejected me after I summoned it.

I was unworthy. Unworthy of power. Unworthy of everything.

If I couldn’t even protect those I cared about, why was I on this planet in the first place?

“Are you done now?”

Despite myself, I jumped at the melodic voice that sounded from the water. I looked over to see the dark-skinned naiad, her jade eyes narrowed in anger. It made sense now—these were the underground tunnels that connected the two lakes to each other.

But I didn’t bother to move from the channel’s edge. She could drown me if she wanted to. I didn’t care anymore.

She brought her face up next to me, probably preparing to grab my arm. What she said next confused me. “I have never been so ashamed to see a human crying.”

“You are supposed to be one of the four Harbingers,” she snapped, leaning a hand on the stone floor and bringing herself up to face me directly. “You are supposed to this world. Why do you weep when the Drakain is present within this castle? You have the power to defeat him.”

How did she know Therin was here? “No,” I said weakly, “I don’t. I can’t even summon the spirit.”

She bared her fangs at me and grabbed my bodice, pulling me to meet her eyes. “If you do not defeat him,” she growled, “our Queen will be in danger. And if that happens, I will kill you myself.”

“Go ahead!” I was angry with her now. How could she expect so much of me? I just told her I couldn’t summon the spirit! “I can’t defeat Therin.”

The naiad took her other hand and slapped me across the face. I gaped at her as she hissed, “Stop it!” Her harmonious voice was high-pitched and tinged with anger. “Your self-pity enrages me! The moment I discovered you were a Harbinger,” she said, “I knew there was hope. There is in you, Harbinger! You defeat Therin. There is no other way.”

I didn’t realize it before, but the naiad was shaking—not with anger, but with fear. I saw the lines of anxiety etched into her dark, pristine skin. The wild look of terror in her eyes. “What are you afraid of?” The question burst from my mouth unexpectedly and I cringed back when I saw her fearsome look.

“What do you think?” She gripped my dress tightly. “When Therin brings my queen’s son to her forest, he will obtain the most powerful Harbinger—more powerful even than you.”

Kasib’s words pierced through my mind. “What are you talking about?”

“He will exchange your prince for that Harbinger!” She was yelling now. Her voice was harsh with malice. “And then he will destroy the forest and every one of my sisters in it.”

“But he’s not that powerful!” My heart was pounding against my chest. None of this made sense. Why would Therin want this Harbinger so much that he would go to such great lengths?

“That Harbinger is more powerful than you will ever know.” There was a darkness that overcame her face. “If Therin obtains that power, then it is over. Etheia will be in the hands of that Drakain.”

Something stirred within me. There was a deep anger—an anger that did not belong to me. A righteous anger I did not understand.

I took both of my hands and slammed my palms on my cheeks. Hard. They burned from the pain, but I needed to snap out of it. I needed to save Titus.

“Okay,” I said to the naiad. “What do I need to do?”

                                                 ————————

“THIS IS NOT WHAT I—”

My scream was cut from my throat as water enveloped me and surged into the dirt tunnel above.

Apparently, naiads could water, too. And as the water carried me through the tunnels at racing speed, I almost felt grateful for the naiad despite everything she had done to me.

But I didn’t have time to feel grateful.

I collided with the little black door; it was no match for the water pressure, so it burst open, spewing me onto the marble flooring of the throne room.

Oh, but it didn’t stop there.

The water kept going. And I slid like I was on ice toward the dais. I pushed at the platform just in time to divert my progress. This, unfortunately, propelled me around the dais until I was in front of it. Therin was standing before Titus, his metal tail raised in preparation to strike. Mayra was crumpled in a heap near the dais, unmoving.

The Drakain’s moss green eyes widened when he saw me. But it didn’t last for long.

Titus hurled himself at the creature, bearing his sword down violently on the glistening metal scales. The impact rattled my jaw, but I ignored the pain.

Because I could only stare at Titus.

His amber irises glowed with an otherworldly light as he fought. There was something about his face, something ethereal and beautiful. It shone with a brilliant light, as if the sun illuminated his skin.