The Midnight Star (The Young Elites #3)(49)

Then we fall. I hit the deck hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. Teren finally releases my arm, and I abruptly feel lighter without his iron grip on me. Inquisitors crowd around us. Magiano, still clutching his wounded side, shouts for blankets. In their midst, I see Violetta’s face. Warm arms wrap around my cold neck, and I’m pulled forward, startled, into an embrace. Her hair drapes across my shoulder.

“I thought we lost you,” she says, and I find myself wrapping my arms around her in return before I even realize what I am doing.

Beside me, Inquisitors surround Teren, forcing his arms behind his back again. He stares at me with the side of his face pressed against the ground. His lips are still twisted up into a crooked smile. His eyes pulse with something unstable. I stare at him, trying to comprehend what he’s done. He saved Magiano from falling overboard. He saved me. He is taking this mission seriously, however much he loathes us.

“Maybe next time,” he says to me with that smile, “you won’t be so lucky.”





Laetes had not even a single coin to his name—but it did not matter. Such charm did he exude, such joy did he bring to every passerby he met that they invited him into their homes, fed him their bread and stew, and protected him from thieves and vagabonds, so that he passed through the border between Amadera and Beldain without harm.

—The Fall and Rise of Laetes, by étienne of Ariata





Adelina Amouteru




The traitor Inquisitor turned out to be a new recruit from Dumor. After a tip from Teren and a brief hunt on board the ship, Magiano dragged every single member of our crew before me on the top deck, where they quivered and groveled at my feet. Magiano rarely has such a look of cold anger on his face—but he did then, the pupils of his eyes slitted so sharply that they looked like needles.

I could kill this crew, if I wanted. I could have their blood coating the deck of this ship by nightfall.

But I can’t afford to do such a thing. There would not be enough people to guide the ship, nor protect us, if I rid myself of them all. So instead, I showed them the corpse of the would-be assassin. Then I ordered it tossed unceremoniously overboard.

“Let that be a reminder to those of you who still want to challenge me,” I said, my head high. “Anyone else?”

Only silence greeted me, followed by the whispers in my head. They seemed amused.

It is only a matter of time, isn’t it, Adelina, before they get you.



It is strange to see the ocean so calm tonight, when only hours earlier, our ships had nearly been devoured by the waves.

I sit huddled in a chair, blankets wrapped around me even after I’d taken as warm of a bath as I could, shivering with a mug of bitter tea. To my annoyance, my mind lingers on Violetta. After her sudden emotional display on the deck, she returned to her usual tense silence in my presence, although she did give me a concerned look before retiring to her quarters. I don’t know what to make of it, but I’m too tired tonight to dwell on the thought. Now only Magiano lounges by the porthole nearby, while Teren crouches in his chair, quietly eating his supper.

He still has a set of chains between his wrists, along with two Inquisitors at his sides—but the chains don’t do much to restrict his movements, allowing him instead to eat freely. His wrists are also bandaged with clean cloth and there’s a blanket wrapped around him. He seems unharmed, for the most part, by our ordeal in the ocean. I suppose his powers have not yet abandoned him.

“Why did you save me?” I ask Teren, my voice breaking through the silence.

“Probably the same reason why that Dagger saved both of our lives. The Windwalker, was it?” Teren doesn’t bother looking up from his plate as he speaks. It is his first proper, hot meal in a long time, and he seems to be savoring it.

“And what reason is that?”

“As you said, I am here only to carry out the gods’ wishes. And I’ll be damned if your foolish actions make this voyage pointless.”

Let him keep you safe. My whispers are surprisingly calm tonight, perhaps subdued by the herbs Magiano mixed into my tea. I nod at Teren. “Remove his chains,” I say to the Inquisitors standing beside him.

“Your Majesty?” one of them responds, blinking.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” I growl. The Inquisitor turns pale at my tone, then hurries to do my bidding. Teren eyes me as his chains fall away, landing with a heavy clang on the floor. Then he lets out a small laugh. The sound of it is familiar, and it scrapes against my memory.

“Trusting me,” Teren murmurs, “is a dangerous game, mi Adelinetta.”

“I’m doing more than that,” I reply. “For the rest of this journey, you will be my personal guard.”

At that, Teren’s eyes flare with surprise and anger. “I’m not your lackey, Your Majesty.”

“And I’m not Giulietta,” I fire back. “You could have killed me on board the ship, when you first freed yourself. You could have drowned me in the ocean. But you didn’t—and that makes you more trustworthy to me than even my own crew. It’s clear I can’t rely on all of my men, and for once, we have the same goals. So, for the rest of this journey, you will be my personal guard. It is in both of our personal interests.”

The mention of Giulietta, as always, seems to hit Teren hard. He winces, then turns back to his food. “As you wish, Your Majesty,” he replies. “I suppose we’ll see how well we do together.”