All the Stars and Teeth(98)

“It’s going to be okay.” I only know the voice belongs to Bastian when his calloused hand cups the side of my face. It cools my feverish skin instantly.

“Kaven’s down,” he whispers. “Vataea’s taking care of us. Stars, I wish you could see her out there, Amora. She was incredible. But we’re getting out of here, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

But his words are a beautiful lie, for when I close my eyes against his cool, wet palm, shapeless magic no longer waits to greet me in the darkness.

My magic is gone.





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE


I am nothing.

I sink into the sheets of Bastian’s bed and pray they’ll devour me. Five days. It’s been five days since we made it out of Zudoh. Five days that I’ve been down here, broken and bleeding, hiding from the sun.

I am nothing.

My armor, my magic, my soul, all stolen from me.

Dully, I consider for the hundredth time what Kaven could have cursed it to. I never saw a charm, like the ones Sira used. Nor do I feel ill, as Bastian is when he spends too long away from Keel Haul.

Could my magic be cursed to the blade Kaven stabbed me with? If so, would it take a while for the initial illness to set in? Or is it somewhere around me, like in Keel Haul?

I scratch my nails along the back wall of the cabin, but feel nothing. If I were cursed to the ship, wouldn’t I feel something?

Gods, I was a fool to let Kaven have my blood.

White-hot anger boils within me and seeps through my pores until I can’t take it anymore. I claw at the healing wounds along my palm until they pool with fresh blood, tired of this cruel guessing game.

I am nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

My magic wasn’t even real. It’s an abomination of Sira’s soul magic. Not a beastly thing like I was made to believe, but a curse meant to destroy the Montaras. To plague us for generations.

My magic was never meant to be the way that it is. And yet I ache now that it’s been stolen from me, empty without my magic.

Perhaps it wasn’t right, but it was mine. And with everything in me, I believed I was using it to protect my people and become the best ruler for them that I could be.

Pain consumes me in the form of the scream I take out on the nearest pillow. When I pull back from it, scarlet blood has marred the pillow’s pristine white surface. I press my palm against the fabric and smear the blood even further.

My magic has to be somewhere close. But where?

“Amora?”

I flinch. Sunlight floods through the crack in the door and covers the floor like a rug. I glare at it, eyes burning.

“Get out.” The last I saw the others was to tell them the truth of the Montara curse. I remember the horror on their faces. Their pity. Even thinking of it now is more than I can handle.

The door shuts, but someone continues to watch me. With a snarl ready on my lips, I twist around, ready to let them feel the extent of my anger. But when I see the satchel Bastian’s holding in his hands, I can’t maintain it. A sob threatens to rattle my core, but I slam it away behind the barriers of my empty heart.

“Get that away from me.” I want to snatch the satchel from his hands and throw it against the wall over and over until every bone and tooth inside has shattered. Instead, I wind my arms around my waist and dip my head.

That’s not my magic he’s holding. It’s only a sad reminder of my failure.

Ferrick stands beside Bastian. His shadow grabs the dim light of the oil lamp and shifts from foot to foot in an uncomfortable dance.

Bastian’s shadow is less anxious. It’s steady and confident as it makes its way to my side. A firm hand sets atop my shoulder.

“We need to talk.” His words hold no room for disagreement. He forces my chin up until I’m left glaring at him, needing him to leave.

I’ve failed the Zudians I made a promise to.

I couldn’t help the Kers. Even my soldiers have turned on me.

Visidia deserves better than me, so why can’t he leave me alone?

“Have you noticed how slowly Keel Haul sails?” Bastian asks quietly.

My palms throb with pain as I ignore him. I clench them into fists and tuck them beneath me, head spinning.

Bastian’s hazel eyes sharpen as he closes the space between us and takes a seat on the corner of the bed. There’s less yellow in them today, the stars dimmed. Ferrick remains behind him, as if uncertain whether he’s welcome to do the same.

“It’s because my curse was broken, Amora.” The words are hardly a whisper as Bastian tries to lean in to catch my stare. As the breath catches in my throat, I let him have it. “When you burned those charms of his, you freed me. Keel Haul is a regular ship, again. And my magic is back, too.” The words freeze me, seizing hold of my heart. For a moment there’s hope, but it sizzles sharply away.

“It’s … not exactly working,” Bastian admits. “But I know it’s there. I can feel it, like a fire inside me. I can’t reach it, yet; I’ve forgotten how. But my magic is back, and I promise we’re going to get yours back, too.”

I sharpen my gaze into daggers that pierce into him. “Don’t come in here spewing false hope when Visidia’s in danger. I’ve failed, and now my kingdom will pay the price. I left those people for dead back in Zudoh.”

“It’s not false hope.” The voice belongs to Ferrick, who finally moves to stand beside me. “We should have time for Bastian to relearn his magic. Kaven was severely injured; he’ll need a while to recover before traveling. We can warn the king, and then if Bastian can learn to use magic against his brother, we could still win this fight.”