It had been a whole day since they left Luca’s, and the sun was just starting to set.
“No, we’re not even close,” Emmeline replied bitterly. Clara felt a hint of sympathy toward the older girl, who was constantly stuck with the prince wherever she went.
“It’s getting dark,” Newt commented obviously. Clara forced herself not to roll her eyes. “We should stop for the night. There’s no villages around here, and we shouldn’t be travelling at night if we can help it.”
“That settles it,” Clara interjected before anyone could argue. She still needed to tell the others her visions with Elyviella - she’d been procrastinating all day.
No one wanted to protest. Beckett was exhausted, even if he didn’t want to show it. Coral and Forrest welcomed the quiet time, and both Emmeline and Newt knew the dangers of late night adventures.
They laid out their stuff near a creek so they could find it easily if they were to be separated. Newt brought several of his magical lanterns - stolen from Titus - and placed them around the group’s mini circle. The unearthly, white glow from the lanterns cast dim shadows through the forest. It reminded Clara of her time with the Sprite Hunters.
“So,” Clara began after a few moments of silence. Her heart raced in her chest as she dropped the bomb on her friends. Clara took about half an hour to explain what she had seen in her visions. She told them about Luca and Ibenily meeting, about Baelle growing up to bully the other kids. And she concluded with Baelle leaving Luca and cursing him to become a fractured man.
It was Newt who finally broke the silence after Clara finished. “I … I don’t know who is the worst in any of those situations. Baelle murdered a kid and hurt her own father, but Ibenily isn’t innocent either.”
“I know,” Clara whispered. “Elyviella wasn’t much help either.”
“So, you actually managed to get a goddess to talk to you?” Coral asked. Clara nodded and Coral let out a soft whistle. “That’s surprising for a goddess.”
“Hey, they talk to me all the time,” Beckett protested, beaming proudly.
Forrest made some wild gestures. Clara interpreted only a few of the, and the basic gist was that Beckett had more imaginary friends than real ones. Coral didn’t translate.
“Elyviella also mentioned a prophecy, but when I asked about them, she told me she slipped,” Clara continued.
“The goddesses seem to be slipping a lot lately,” Emmeline noted. “First Kalaia slips about something, and says it’s happened before that too. Now Elyviella is slipping. It’s almost like they’re giving us hints.”
“Has anyone figured out what Kalaia slipped up about?” Beckett asked.
“I think I did, actually,” Newt admitted, blushing a bit in the soft white light. He didn’t elaborate and Emmeline moved closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“You know you can tell us, we won’t care,” Coral assured him.
“Or you don’t have to share,” Emmeline reminded him. “You’re perfect the way you are.”
“I think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” Newt exclaimed, leaning his head on his shoulder. “What’s next? A kiss? You promising that you’ll never, ever leave me for anything-”
“Yuck!” Beckett sneered. “Seriously, this is so cliche. And besides, we’re off-topic.”
“Beckett actually staying focused?” Coral asked with a raised eyebrow. “Talk about first experiences.” Beckett stuck out his tongue.
Clara was kind of glad the prince was with them. Yes, he was obnoxious at times. And sure, he wasn’t really good for much unless you were possessed by Rogues. But he had a way of bringing smiles to everyone’s faces, even when the topic was heavy, like Baelle’s past.
Forrest began to sign something that Coral translated as, “Well, at least now we can blackmail Baelle.”
Clara snorted. “As if Baelle would even care. In fact, she’d probably just accuse us of lying and kill us faster.” That sobered the group a bit, and silence fell over them like a deafening blanket. “Well,” Clara stumbled for words. “I guess I have to thank you guys for letting me get that off my shoulders.”
“Of course,” Coral replied with a soft smile. “That’s what friends are for.”
Forrest said something along the lines of, “Aww, you consider us your friends?” Coral playfully tapped him on the nose.
“You more than anything?” she whispered, causing barfing noises from Beckett.
The prince sighed, wrinkling his nose. “On that note, I’m going to bed. I don’t want to see any more of this kissy-kissy stuff.”
Clara couldn’t help but agreed. Newt snapped his fingers and the lanterns dimmed.
The healer pulled her blanket up over her head and laid back against the grassy ground. Her eyes fluttered shut and she fell into a deep sleep.
As it turned out, the next village brought one member of the group a little closer to home than expected. Namely Coral, who spotted her ancestor’s home from two miles away.
The mansion was sandwiched in a valley between two tall mountains that overlooked the ocean not far away. As they walked, Coral explained that local legends thought that the mountains had been created by Lithby in case the ocean ever became too high. In a way, the mountains were the only things protecting the rest of the kingdoms.
Coral followed that by saying that her great-grandparents had been tempting fate by building their mansion right on the edge of Lithby’s turf.
“That’s why Lithby Cursed them,” Coral announced bitterly. “And Blessed me - before I lost my Blessing.” The last words were choked out and Clara felt extremely sorry for Coral. The girl had given up so much for Forrest…
But it was also Coral’s fault. It was stupid to swear on a Blessing - especially with a swear like Coral’s. But the past was past now.
“Is it safe to stop by?” Newt asked. “We need supplies, since the last town was empty and…” He didn’t finish his sentence.
“And we couldn’t steal from Luca,” Clara whispered.
Coral shrugged. She seemed uncomfortable with the idea of staying at her ancestral home - probably because she’d have to face her parents again. “I suppose we can try it. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Lots of things were worse, Clara decided. Including what came next.
The trek down the mountain was actually the easiest part of the journey. A weathered, marble staircase led down the side of the mountain, winding back and forth like a snake. Emmeline nearly tripped several times due to the lack of a handrail, but Newt always caught her. Clara slipped once too, but no one went to help her.
Coral’s house was even bigger up close. And it practically screamed “beach”.
“They wanted it to be appealing to Lithby,” Coral explained. “My parents thought if they decorated it in a way she liked, she would make us all Normies.”
And it didn’t work, Clara wanted to say. Coral spoke with little resentment of her Blessing, her hatred more geared towards her parents. It was probably easier to hate them than it was to hate herself.
Seashells were embedded in the walls, some of them whole and really large. The whole place was painted a light teal, but years of sand and salty winds caused the paint to peel. Rotted, wooden steps led to a balcony above. The scent of the ocean danced in the wind and Clara swore she could hear the waves rolling like thunder.
Coral was the first to ascend up the steps. Forrest followed behind her, the stairs creaking under the weight.
The dark-haired girl stopped when she reached the top, no one but Forrest following her. She turned and pressed a finger to her lips before beckoning for Clara and the others to stay put. Clara nodded.
In the Sprite Hunter’s secret language, Coral’s gestures meant that there might be danger. And if Coral was sensing something bad…
Maybe she’s just being cautious, Clara’s optimistic side argued.
Or maybe she actually senses danger, the reasonable part decided. Clara sighed, ignoring both voices.
“Wait about five minutes,” she whispered to the others as Coral and Forrest disappeared on the balcony. “If they don’t come back, we go after them.”
Newt, Emmeline, and Beckett all silently agreed, something which Clara was glad for. She didn’t want to have to persuade them to wait - especially if Coral and Forrest needed their help.
Which it turned out, they did.
Five minutes passed. Beckett’s foot tapped the ground impatiently. “They’re not coming,” Newt sighed.
“Can we go after them?” Beckett asked excitedly.
“Slowly,” Clara decided. “Forrest and Coral are probably in danger and if we rush into battle they’ll probably-”
Beckett was halfway up the steps, a silver sword in one hand and an emerald one in the other. “C’mon guys, let’s go,” he cried before disappearing on the balcony. Emmeline swore under her breath.
“He’s going to get himself killed,” Emmeline groaned and Clara agreed with her.
The three remaining members of the group grabbed their weapons. Clara gripped her twin daggers tightly, wishing just once that she had more to defend herself with.
The stairs creaked under her weight, announcing her presence to anyone who might be listening. Newt and Emmeline were right behind her. They have my back, Clara told herself. They won’t let me die.
As she reached the top step, movement caught her eye. Without even pausing to think, Clara thrust her dagger to the left in which the movement had come.
Slow clapping brought her out of her daze.
“Great job,” someone whistled. “You’ve just stabbed a statute of Lithby herself.”
Clara would’ve stabbed Beckett too, but he was standing too far away, his arms crossed and a smirk plastered on his face. She tugged her knife out of the torso of Lithby’s statue. Great, as if she needed another way to make the goddesses despise her.
“You should’ve waited for the rest of us,” Clara hissed.
Beckett rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing up here. The door is locked, and unless any of you know how to pick locks, we can’t get in.”
“For one thing, you can break a window,” Newt argued.
“Or I can pick the lock,” Clara offered. She made her way to the door, its blue paint chipping off in flakes. The doorknob was cold and slick.
She’d been picking locks since she was able to walk. Clara gripped one dagger between her teeth - not safe, but she needed both hands and didn’t want to risk putting the blade down. She inserted the remaining blade into the lock and jiggled it slightly.
The door popped open with a click, swinging with silent hinges. Clara readjusted her grip on her daggers.
“Ladies first,” Beckett offered.
Clara rolled her eyes, pressing a finger to her lips before stepping inside.
Soft, dusty carpet silenced her footsteps. Wooden chairs were arranged in a perfect circle around a matching table. Silverware was laid out as if a family was still getting ready for dinner.
The whole dining room and kitchen - at least, that’s what Clara assumed they were standing in - screamed “beach”. Seashells replaced knobs on the wooden cabinets. Jars of sand decorated the shelves in the room, as if that would make a goddess like the inhabitants more. Clara repressed a sigh. Forrest and Coral were nowhere in sight.
She was just going to suggest they head to another room when footsteps thudded below them. Muffled voices drifted through the floorboards and carpet.
Clara froze. She felt like a mouse as she scurried for cover - which just happened to be into one of the cabinets. She squeezed herself into it, pulling her knees to her chest as she pulled the door shut. The scent of moldy fruit filled her nose.
Hopefully her friends were safe, but Clara decided not to be optimistic. Either Coral and Forrest had completely forgotten to check-in after five minutes, or the house was occupied.
The latter seemed more likely.
The footsteps grew louder, as did the voices. Clara closed her eyes tight, wishing and praying to every goddess that her friends would be okay.
Such a coward, the voice inside her chastised. Not helping your friends is pathetic.
Clara drew in a breath, pushing her worries to the back of her mind. Her friends needed her - and sitting in the cabinet wouldn’t accomplish anything.
She could just make out muffled yelps and sounds of protests. It wasn’t Forrest then, because he didn’t make noises.
“Shut the girl up,” a feminine voice ordered, although it was rough and mean sounding.
There was a thud and Coral’s yelps fell silent. Clara’s heart leapt into her throat and decided against rashly throwing herself out of the cabinet like a lamb to the slaughter.
More thumps followed, and then more silence. The footsteps sounded odd, softer than normal. Clara wondered if maybe the things out there weren’t human, but she highly doubted it.
There were more sounds of scuffles, and Clara realized that Emmeline, Newt, and Beckett were probably about to be captured.
She decided to take a risk. Surprise was on her side, and she couldn’t let these mysterious people take her friends. So without thinking, Clara lunged out of the cabinet, throwing open the door.
Immediately, someone grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. Clara thrashed as a thick hand held her upright, but she still when she felt a cool blade pressed at her neck.
Clara took a moment to get her bearings. She had been trained to recognize body language, so it was no surprise when she identified the leader of the enemy pack quickly. A woman with scruffy, blonde hair that was chopped short was holding Emmeline by her hair. The Reader’s panicked, green eyes met Clara’s for only a moment before darting elsewhere.
And then Clara realized why.
The rest of the “people” weren’t human after all. Their bodies were rippled with muscles, their bronze skin perfectly toned. But their heads were all lions. From the neck up, golden fur and whiskers determined that all of these “people” were actually part cat.
“Talk!” the blonde woman ordered Emmeline, shaking her up and down.
A sob escaped Emmeline’s lips and the older girl bit her lip. Clara’s heart was racing but she would be helpless against the giant lion warriors.
Except … they had forgotten to take her daggers.
Clara swung back and forth slightly, building enough momentum to reach back to her captor. She couldn’t see Beckett, Newt, Coral, or Forrest, but she assumed they were probably in similar situations out of her peripheral vision.
Finally swinging enough to reach the lion warrior’s arm, Clara plunged her dagger into his bicep. The lion roared in pain - literally. Clara tumbled to the floor, where she rolled away before anyone could react. Shouts and thumps followed, but Clara had no time to look and see her friends.
She slashed one of her daggers across the woman’s ankles, causing her to yelp and lose her grip on Emmeline. The Reader struggled, finally getting far enough away to form a sword and embrace the battle.
With Emmeline safe, Clara focused on her new opponent - the lion warrior who had held her hostage. He bared his teeth, the fangs glistening with spit.
Clara ran at him and the lion warrior swung a clawed hand toward her. She ducked just in time and the tips of the talons grazed her cheek, drawing a little blood. Her Blessing took over, and her body felt feverish as Clara began to heal.
The lion was surprised that his prey wasn’t curling up to die. Using the moment of shock to her advantage, Clara leapt onto the lion’s back and wrapped her skinny fingers in his mane, pulling. Unfortunately, the house wasn’t made for close combat like this. The lion slammed his head backwards, throwing Clara into a wall.
Stars spun in her eyes and the lion barreled toward her. Clara’s instincts took over and she whipped a dagger at the warrior. It struck the lion in the eye and it yowled in pain, sounding more like a cat than a fierce killer.
Clara ran towards him again, yanking her dagger out of his head. Sand poured from the wound and the lion gave a final growl before collapsing into a large pile of dust.
Before Clara could celebrate, something slammed her back against the wall. Her ribs groaned from the impact and she felt heat in her chest, meaning something was broken and just now beginning to mend.
Clara realized it was a lioness instead of a lion, though her amber eyes were filled with fury. Maybe Clara had just killed the lioness’s mate.
The lioness lunged towards Clara, who rolled aside in a daze, her ribs still knitting themselves back together. The lioness crashed into the wall, causing the whole house to shake. While the lioness was shaking off her concussion, Clara begrudgingly pulled herself to her feet, gripping her daggers tightly.
As the lioness spun towards Clara, the girl tried the trick she had pulled early and threw her dagger towards the lioness’s eye. Clearly, this lioness was smarter than her supposed mate had been. She ducked and threw her entire wait at Clara.
It was a bit unnerving to see a human body barreling towards her, and Clara was still in shock from the hit to the head. The lioness and Clara interlocked in a fierce wrestling match.
Although Clara was no match for the lioness’s strength, the girl healed everytime the warrior attacked. The two bit and scratched for a few minutes, flipping up and down until Clara lost all sense of direction and her daggers.
Pain wasn’t something Clara knew well due to her Blessing. But there must have been something in the lioness’s spit that was cancelling Elyviella’s power - or maybe her Blessing was worn out. It didn’t matter though, because Clara was becoming sluggish in her movements. Her arms felt like lead.
The lioness tore into Clara’s shoulder with her teeth and the girl screamed.
All of the weight disappeared from Clara’s chest, and she grit her teeth in pain as she struggled into an upright position. Eyes blurry from the pain, she could just make out a tiny blonde figure battling the lioness.
Beckett’s tendrils on his arms were glowing with unnatural light. He had the lioness pressed against a wall in a chokehold.
It was like the magic poured from his fingertips, into the lioness, who was unwilling to host the magic. Silver veins appeared on the lioness’s bronze arms and legs. Then the warrior fell to the ground, dissolving into sand.
Clara was dimly aware of Beckett rushing towards her. He let out a small cry when he saw the wound on her shoulder. She wanted to ask, “is it that bad?” but her voice failed her.
Just as Clara thought she was going to black out, a steady stream of magic poured into her. It was like a wam trickle of honey, energy and strength that Clara consumed quickly. Her eyesight cleared and she saw Beckett’s bright eyes looking down at her.
Clara pushed herself out of Beckett’s lap, embarrassed to be saved by him. A prince saving her might have seemed like a dream if it had been anyone else.
“I’ve got you,” Beckett whispered. Clara slapped him across the face, not hard but enough to make him wince in shock. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks, but didn’t say anything. Her shoulder throbbed, but Beckett would only make it worse.
“Newt, stop!” Clara heard Emmeline exclaim. The healer forced herself to her feet, ignoring the searing pain.
Her vision cleared just in time to see Newt sock the short-haired woman in the face for what obviously wasn’t the first time. Her lip was split and blood trickled from her nose. A dazed expression was painted on her face.
“Sorry,” Newt mumbled, rubbing his fist as the woman keeled over on the ground.
“What happened?” Coral interjected from across the room. She was draped over the back of a couch, a long scratch trailing from her forehead to her cheek. Forrest helped her up and the two used each other for support.
“This woman and her lion-headed manservants attacked us,” Newt explained bitterly.
He grabbed the woman by the collar of her shirt, which surprised Clara. The woman wasn’t small, so lifting her was no easy feat. “Who are you and why did you attack us?”
The woman spat at him and Newt roared in anger.
Another shock - it was Forrest who placed a hand on Newt’s shoulder, warning to calm down. Newt nodded once and stepped away. The woman crumpled to the floor.
“I am Uris, demigoddess of pride,” the woman said at last.
Of course, Clara should’ve seen it sooner. For the woman to have inhuman warriors was a signal that she was special. But where did the warriors come from …
“Those lion-headed warriors are reincarnations,” Beckett guessed from beside Clara. A red blotch was forming on his pale cheek where Clara had slapped him and guilt welled up in her stomach.
Even the woman looked shocked by this guess. “Not just any incarnations,” Uris bragged. “Prideful kings and queens reborn. Their overconfidence was their downfall, now it’s their only purpose for fighting.” Then the woman pressed her lips into a tight line, determined not to let anymore information spill
Clara suppressed a shiver. Beckett could’ve been killing his ancestors. No, not could’ve - he did kill them.
“You work for Baelle,” Clara realized.
Uris rolled her eyes as if that had been made clear from the beginning, but she didn’t speak.
“What do we do with her?” Emmeline asked, taking an unsure step away from Uris.
“Kill her?” Coral offered, her glare hardening into stone. Clara hadn’t really seen such fierce emotion out of Coral since…
“Uris tortured you,” Clara breathed.
Recognition flitted across Forrest’s face, he hadn’t come to this conclusion yet. But Coral’s white-knuckled grip on her bow gave Clara the answer she needed. Uris had been the one to oversee Forrest and Coral’s torture while in Argenti.
“Let Forrest and Coral decide then,” Emmeline suggested. She placed her sword on the table as if murder by her hand was out of the question.
Forrest and Coral shared a long gaze. They seemed to argue silently until at last Coral spoke. “As much as it pains us to release her, if we murdered our enemies without giving them a chance to change, we would be just as bad as Baelle. We have to let her go.”
Uris looked up in surprise, and without hesitating, the woman ran. Her legs carried her faster than a normal person should’ve been able to travel.
Newt watched her go, but no disappointment crossed his face like Clara expected. Instead, he seemed … relieved. Like he hadn’t actually wanted to murder Uris. He’s just trying to protect Emmeline, Clara told herself.
“So, this was a failure,” Beckett grumbled.
“Not entirely,” Coral opened a pouch strapped on her back and revealed tons of food and water. “We managed to get some supplies. So what do you say? Next stop, the Beach of Lost!”
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