The Midnight Star (The Young Elites #3)(40)

The following mornings dawn gray as the last clouds from Sergio’s storm linger. We sail for five days before we reach the Falls of Laetes that separate the Sunlands from the Sealands. Then we follow the chasm for another day until we reach the spot where the ocean comes back together, and here we finally sail around the edge. Baliras fly occasionally between the chasm’s gaping mouth—as majestic as I remember them—but they also seem exhausted, their flight slower, the glow of their translucent bodies somehow dimmer. I peer at the water tumbling into the chasm. The water looks as strange as when we left, an eerie near-black color, as if the hues of life were being sucked from its depths.

Even though Violetta and I are on the same ship, and even though Sergio visits her constantly every day . . . she never asks for me. I’m certainly not about to go to her myself, to give her the pleasure of turning me away. But every time Sergio comes out of her chambers, I’m there waiting, watching. Every time, he looks at me and shakes his head.

I can’t sleep tonight. The silence of the open ocean is too loud, giving too much room to the whispers in my mind. I’ve swallowed two mugs of herbal drink, and still they chatter away, their voices pulling me out of my sleep over and over until I finally give up and leave my quarters.

I wander out onto the deck alone. Even the sailors tending to the masts are asleep at this hour, and the seas are so still that I can barely hear the ripple of waves bumping against the hull of our ship. Not far from us sails the Tamouran ship carrying Raffaele and the Daggers, where scattered torches now shine in the night. My gaze goes from their ship up to the sky. It is a clear night. Stars dot the darkness overhead, familiar constellations of the gods and angels, myths and legends from long ago, layers and layers so thick that the sky glitters with them. The ocean mirrors their light tonight, so that we are sailing through a sea of stars.

My eye settles on a constellation comprising a half circle and a long line. The Fall of Laetes. If what Raffaele has told us is true, then we will not last long in this world with our powers. No matter what happens, whether our journey succeeds or we perish along the way, I will leave this world powerless. The whispers in my head recoil violently at that thought. My hands clench and unclench against the railing. I have to find a way to avoid such a fate—there must be a path that lets me live and preserves what makes me strong.

You can still turn your back on them. You can—

The sound of footsteps makes me whirl around. In the dim torchlight, I can make out Violetta approaching me, a heavy cloak wrapped around her shoulders. She looks gaunt and sickly, her eyes sunken, but she is standing on her own. She freezes at my movement. “Adelina,” she says.

It is the first word I’ve heard from her since she left me months ago. Even her voice sounds different now—fragile and hoarse, like it might break at any moment. Hostile. Distant.

I stiffen and turn away from her. “You’re awake,” I mutter. After so long, these are the only words I can think of to say in return.

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she gathers the cloak tighter around herself, approaches the railing, and looks up at the night sky. “Sergio said you came to Tamoura to find me.”

I’m quiet for a long moment. “I went for many reasons. One of them happened to concern you, and a rumor that you were there.”

“Why did you want to find me?” Violetta turns her face away from the sky and toward me. When I don’t answer, she frowns. “Or did you remember me only after your invasion failed?”

The ice in her voice surprises me. I suppose it shouldn’t. “I wanted to tell you to return to Kenettra,” I reply. “That it is safe for you there, and that what I did—”

“You wanted to tell me to return?” Violetta laughs a little and shakes her head. “I would have refused, had you found me under different circumstances.”

The whispers tell me not to worry about her words, that they’re meaningless. But the sting of them still pains me. “Look at you,” I murmur. “Back to thinking about how noble you are.”

“And what about you? Telling yourself you’re improving these countries you march into—thinking you’re doing something good—”

“I’ve never thought that,” I snap, cutting her off. “I do it because I want to, because I can. That’s what anyone truly means when they gain power and call it altruism, isn’t it? I’m just not afraid to admit it.” I sigh and look away again. I half expect Violetta to comment on my outburst, but she doesn’t.

“Why did you want to find me?” Violetta asks again, her voice quiet.

I lean heavily against the railing, searching for an honest answer. “I sleep poorly when you’re not around,” I finally mutter, irritated. “There are . . . voices that distract me when I’m alone.”

Violetta purses her lips. “It doesn’t matter. Here I am, and here you are. Are you happy now?” She lets another beat of silence pass between us. “Raffaele told me that I’ve been delirious for weeks, and that I only woke up after you arrived.”

She says it bitterly, like she doesn’t want to admit it. But it makes me look at her again, studying her expression as I try to figure out what she really thinks. She doesn’t say anything more, though. I wonder whether her words mean that she mourned my absence, that perhaps she would also lie awake at night, look to the side of her bed, and ponder why I wasn’t there. I wonder whether her sleep is filled with nightmares.