All the Stars and Teeth(100)

I recall Casem’s face behind the window in Ikae, and the panic in his expression as he chased after me on the docks. Then I think back to the soldiers accompanying him that night.

I can understand the Kers who joined up with Kaven. But my own soldiers? The father of my friend and guard, who helped train me for years?

The fact that these people want me dead hurts more than they’ll ever know.

“I believe you were clueless,” I say, recalling how hurriedly he’d tried to get the others away from me and on the wrong path. “But why did you do it? You could have left. You could have found a way to warn me, or stop them.”

“They would have killed me.” He dips his head like a scolded pup. “I don’t think even my father would hesitate to. I knew he always envied your father’s power deep down, but I guess I never realized the extent of it. He presented me with the truth after you fled Arida, wanting me to join him. I figured that if I did, it would at least give me a chance to learn their plan and attack when the time was right. Or wait for an opening to escape. I knew it was a risk, but by the gods, I never thought it would end up like this.”

The idea of their soul magic alone has me grinding my teeth. To be able to curse someone’s soul for an eternity is a far crueler punishment than ending their life or causing temporary pain.

Kaven must be stopped, but how? Without my magic, I’m useless against him.

“How many are we up against?” I ask. “How strong is their magic?”

“We’re up against nearly half of Kerost and Zudoh,” he answers honestly. “And as for their magic, they’re strong … but there’s some good news I think you’ll like to hear.”

I draw back at the small, hopeful smile on his lips.

“The curse in Montara blood isn’t meant for others,” he says. “When people try to learn it, it slowly destroys their souls, warping them. Most who trigger soul magic are unable to use it, and are destroyed in the process. Though there are a rare few who have managed to learn it, like Kaven, he stopped forcing it on his followers years ago, because it kept failing and his numbers were dwindling. People only try to learn it by choice, and there are only a handful who have succeeded.”

I press my lips together and from the corner of my eye catch sight of Bastian descending the rigging. The sight of him strikes my heart fierce as a knife.

He moves to the ship’s helm and grips it tight in one hand, steering. Glancing down at a compass, he adjusts the helm, again, purposely avoiding my stare.

Vataea leans over the ledge behind him, chanting over the waves as if trying to work her magic on them. Her lips are pursed and her sweat-slicked brows fret with annoyance. Every now and then she manages to lift a wave a little higher than normal, but it’s nothing like the magic I hear she pulled off back in Zudoh.

Ferrick’s between them, trying to do whatever it is that needs to be done, and I jerk my focus away from them as a knot of bitterness coils within me. Everyone is trying except for me.

“The pirate’s still adjusting to his curse being broken,” Casem says. “And we don’t have much of a crew, especially with you and Vataea both having been out for a few days. I’ve been trying to use my magic to manipulate the air and bloat the sails, but this ship is too heavy for me to move. We all thought Vataea would be able to help us sail faster when she woke up, but saving us back in Zudoh took a lot out of her. She was … incredible.” His eyes wander to her for a moment, and in his awe, I remember vague flashes of the sea parting around us. Of being surrounded by walls of dead fish and algae, but never touched by it. I know I should thank her for saving us, but there’s a kernel of bitterness that wishes she’d left me behind to sink.

“We’re finally on the right track. It’s taken a while to get anywhere.” Casem points to the vibrant water, and to the school of yellow and blue fish that flank us. With water this clear and bright, we must be somewhere between Mornute and Arida. We’ll be home before nightfall.

A wave of relief fills me, but I smother it quickly. Casem notices, frowning deeply.

“Amora?”

I shake my head. “I’ve no right to return home.”

“That’s exactly what I used to think after I first left Zudoh.” The words stop me cold. I’ve no idea when Bastian appeared behind me, but he stands there now with his chin lifted high and his eyes hard.

“For years I refused to return to Zudoh because I was afraid to face everyone,” he says. “I felt responsible for the destruction of my home. For the murder of my parents and so many others, all because of my brother. It ate me alive. I hid because I was afraid, and if you turn your back on Visidia now, you’ll be doing the same thing.”

Bastian’s words are like needles as I swallow them down, because every single one of them is true.

Slowly, hesitantly, he draws a step closer. When I don’t flinch away, he takes another. My hands ignite when he takes them in his, and it’s like I can breathe again. “You helped me face my fears, and showed me not to run. So don’t you dare say you or I shouldn’t be here, Amora. This is exactly where we need to be. There are people counting on us. We can do this.” They’re nearly the same words I said to him, and they strike hard.

I see Raya’s angry face, older and wiser than it should have to be at her age. I see the time-warped hands and exhausted wrinkles of those back in Kerost. I see Sira, who showed me the way my kingdom is meant to be.