11

Eva

“You had the doors lead her into the sea cave? You’re going to let the serpent eat her?”

“I don’t remember dictating what you had to do with the boy.” Eva paused in front of the salon door, casting a glance back over her shoulder.

“I locked him up.”

Boring. But Eva didn’t say so aloud.

Yara caught up. She wore a frown of undisguised judgment, and it looked so much like one of Marcin’s that Eva made a mental note to cut down the time they spent together.

“The boy you gave me?” Yara pressed the tips of her fingers together. “I think he’d make a much better sacrifice. Much better than Thomas.”

Eva raised her eyes to the ceiling. Would Yara never stop sulking, never be content that Eva had chosen for herself this year? “You don’t agree with my choice.”

“I think you’ll find it difficult to make yourself fall in love with Thomas.”

Eva shrugged, a miniscule lift of her shoulders. She took gentle hold of the door handle, smiling faintly as she imagined Lina Kirk’s terror as she stumbled into the sea serpent’s cave, ignoring the irritating fact that Yara was right.

“Finley’s very handsome. And he could play his violin for you.”

“You think I will fail,” said Eva flatly. “You think the sacrifice will fail again this year.”

Because it would. The spell that would calm the dark tide was burned into Eva, listed like the ingredients in a cookbook or an old grimoire: Take the life of the one you love and mix with the tears you shed for them. Add three drops of blood, three strands of hair, and feed it all to the sea by the light of May’s first full moon.

The very first Witch Queen, the girl painted on the Amber Salon’s ceiling, had given the boy she was to marry to the sea to save the island, and the tide had developed a taste for such sacrifices. It was only satisfied when given someone the queen suffered to lose, someone she cared about.

It hadn’t been a problem for the queens who had come before Eva. They’d loved easily, fallen instantly for the boys they chose, keeping them in the Water Palace until the full moon rose so they could grow more and more attached to them.

But Eva wasn’t the type who got attached easily to people; at best, they grew on her in spite of her continued efforts to keep them at a distance. She could feed a hundred islander boys to the tide, one each dawn, each dusk, and it wouldn’t matter, because they did not matter to her.

Thomas Lin did not matter to her, not in the way that counted. She would not suffer to lose him. She would enjoy chaining him to the pillar and so the magic would fail, and the tide would continue to rise.

“Marcin didn’t—” Eva paused. Of course Marcin hadn’t objected. Not about this. He wanted to see Thomas drown, and he’d already confessed that he wouldn’t mind seeing the city sink.

A part of Eva suspected he liked it when she failed. Preferred it. She used to think it sweet, how he always needed to be the one who took care of things for her, how enthusiastic he was, coming to her with advice. He never seemed to know what to do with himself when she actually succeeded at something without his help.

Yara shifted impatiently, the fabric of her dress rustling like shore weeds.

Eva pushed through the door, starting down a flight of rock-hewn steps leading into darkness. A dull and distant thudding filled her ears, the faint beating of a lost heart, the crash of waves heard from underwater. She felt it more as a force than a sound, the dark tide pounding on walls that glimmered wetly with ravenous, insatiable hunger.

How she despised it, this curse that plagued their island. A queen should answer to no one. Not the heavens, not the earth, not the sea. Especially not to something so temperamental as the tide.

Natalia had, of course, laughed the first time Eva told her this. “A queen,” she’d corrected primly, “answers to everyone. First and foremost to her family, to her fellow witches. And then to her people, her islanders. What is a queen, after all, without her subjects? A queen of nothing and nowhere.”

Eva would be a queen of nothing and nowhere if she lost Caldella, if black waves swallowed the city her sister had entrusted her with. But what was one more year? Surely Caldella could survive for one more measly year. They’d lose parts of the island, yes. Edges. Corners. Some of the islanders would lose their houses and businesses. But the whole city would not be lost.

Or so she told herself. And it would be worth it to see Thomas Lin chained to the stone pillar in St. Casimir’s Square like he was supposed to have been two years ago. Would have been, if Natalia had not taken his place.

She could hear Yara’s steps behind her. She could not expect Eva to just let him go. She had honored her sister’s memory all this time, hadn’t touched a hair on his head. But he’d taunted her, waltzing into the revel with Lina Kirk. It was a slap in her sister’s face. Had her sacrifice meant so little to him? How dare he forget her and move on when they were all still grieving? He hadn’t cared for Natalia at all, had deceived her from the first. He was out there making her sister look a fool.

Eva pressed a thumb to her bottom lip and bit down hard, then quickly lowered her hand, closing her fingers into a fist so she wouldn’t see the nails already gnawed to the bloody quick. Death was almost too good for Thomas Lin. She wanted to take from him as he had taken from her. “It would be weak to change my mind now,” she told Yara.

“It wouldn’t though!”

They’d reached the bottom of the stairs now, where a dark arch waited to lead them into the sea cave. Eva moved through it, and a bloodcurdling scream greeted her, cut short by a great splash and plume of spray as something scaly and sinuous dragged something smaller into the inky water.

Air caught in Eva’s lungs. She stepped down onto a mossy stone. Yara grabbed her arm, leaned in close. “It’s not weak to listen to a friend, especially when you know I’m right. You’ll show everyone you’re a queen who will listen, that you’re willing to listen.”

Eva eyed her sidelong, noting the anxious set of Yara’s jaw, the tremble of her lush lips, the ragged hem of her long, glittery black dress dipping into the water. The same dress she’d worn to the revel…

There were times when Yara got so fixated on an idea, so obsessed with a painting or potion or spell she was working on that she forgot to sleep, to eat, to change clothes. She burned so brightly sometimes that Eva worried her friend would burn out. Use up all her magic and fade from existence like a dream upon waking. The way all witches eventually did. There was a reason so few of them grew old.

“Marcin said you haven’t been sleeping—” Eva started, tugging her arm free, trying not to let impatience bleed into her words. Trying not to picture Lina wrapped in the sea serpent’s coils, her short blond hair fanning out around her head, her blush-pink lips slowly turning blue.

But it wouldn’t eat her. Not yet. Eva’s pet liked to play with its food.

“I’d sleep better if I wasn’t worrying the sea was about to gobble up my home. I may as well use a life buoy as a pillow. Don’t you want to save it? Natalia’s city? Our city? You said you did.” Yara’s shoulders were rigid.

Eva’s gaze tiptoed past her to the rippling black water. Lina’s scream still lingered on her skin, giving her gooseflesh.

“She didn’t leave it to you,” said Yara, “for you to watch it sink.”

Eva stiffened.

A cyclone of wind and shadow whipped the water into spray. Eva raised a hand to shield her eyes. When she could see clearly again, Yara had vanished.

She made a half-hearted attempt to go after her.

But then Lina broke the surface.

Gasping. Trembling. Retching up brackish water. Obvious terror on her face as she thrashed her legs and arms. Her fingers brushed the jagged edge of a stepping stone and she clung to it for dear life. The water was deep where she’d surfaced. The stones floated atop the water by magic.

Eva followed the slippery path they carved through the cave, stealing closer, stopping a step away from Lina. “Did you enjoy drowning?”

Lina’s head snapped up. Her eyes were wide as saucers.

“I did hear you screaming—”

“Did you enjoy listening?” Lina spat into the pool, gaze darting this way and that, searching anxiously for the sea serpent.

“A little,” Eva said, smiling.

“I can’t swim!” Lina shuddered, and once she started shaking, she couldn’t stop. Her teeth chattered—from cold or fury, Eva couldn’t tell.

“Evidently not.” Eva crouched and dabbled her fingers in the water, stamping down an odd pang of guilt.

But Lina Kirk had brought this on herself by storming into the palace uninvited. She’d brought out this side of Eva, made her sink to childish pettiness and spite. There was something about Lina that got under her skin.

There was something about her that reminded Eva of Natalia.

They didn’t look alike. Lina resembled a drowned rat right now, and Natalia had looked like Eva—or, rather, Eva looked like Natalia. But there was something, some undefinable quality that reminded her of her sister. Something that had driven both girls to dive headfirst into danger to protect the boys they loved.

A seething and sick kind of envy snaked through Eva. Because deep down, she knew that although she might indeed love, she was not capable of such a love. Not a love like her sister’s. It was not within her. She would always, always put herself first.

And why was that so terrible?

Envy mixed and melted into a teeth-grinding frustration. She did not understand. Could not understand. What made another person’s life more precious than your own? Why would you throw yours away? And if the other person truly loved you back, would they even want you to? If that was love…

The scaly edge of a spine cut the surface of the water. Lina kicked frantically, trying to climb onto the stone she had hold of. Words puffed out between each breath. “Where’s my brother? What did you do to him? Where’s—”

“Your brother? What did you do to my palace? To my sisters who were dreaming peacefully in that tower the doors first took you into?”

“I didn’t—” Lina let out a shriek as the sea serpent dove beneath her. “I never meant to hurt anyone. I only wanted—”

“And yet by coming here and trying to take Thomas Lin away, you’re hurting everyone. All the people on the island. Everyone in Caldella. Your friends. Your family. A sacrifice has to be made to keep the island from sinking, Lina Kirk, but you would steal mine away and damn us all to save some boy you like.” Eva straightened.

Color flooded Lina’s cheeks. She hauled herself onto the stone, dripping, panting on hands and knees. “That’s not true. You can give someone else to the tide.”

“Oh? So you’ve come here to offer me someone else? Your brother, maybe?”

Lina stilled.

Eva tilted her head to one side. “He came here with you. He joined our revel.”

“He only joined because you tempted him,” snapped Lina. “Because you promise anyone who does the chance to win free magic and undying love and—”

“Of course we do. You force us to. It was originally meant as a reward, to honor those brave enough to volunteer themselves. Like the money we pay to the families for the loss of their sons. But every year, more and more of you grow reluctant. More and more of you forget your duty. Now we have to bribe and trick and cajole you into joining the revel, even when you all know a sacrifice is necessary. And now you dare to come here, dare to attack my home, my family, make demands of me. One life a year is all that is asked to keep Caldella safe. That is the deal you islanders struck with the first queen.”

“It’s hardly a deal if you’re not holding up your end,” Lina shot back. “We gave you a life last year, and the city’s still flooding. The dark tide’s been rising since you were crowned queen. Your magic isn’t working.”

Eva’s composure slipped, her hands balling into fists at her sides. She spoke stiffly. Lied. “The sacrifice will work this year.”

Lina scoffed. “Forgive me if I won’t gamble Thomas’s life on that one-off chance.” She rose, wobbling, feet slipping on the moss. “Why him? You could have taken anyone. He already… She was your sister, wasn’t she? Your blood sister? Our last queen?”

All witches considered themselves family. But it was a rare thing indeed to be related by blood. “And?”

“And? Don’t you care? Your sister loved him, gave up her life for him. She sacrificed herself so he could live. And that doesn’t mean anything to you?” Lina looked ready to leap the gap between their stones in order to strangle Eva. Her eyes burned with all the fury of an unleashed storm.

Eva tensed.

“I care,” said Lina. “I was there that day. I watched them chain her to the pillar. It was the first time Ma ever let me watch. I’ll never forget it. Your sister wasn’t afraid. Not even a little. Not even when the tide rose or when the black water bubbled up through the cobblestones. Not even when the waves came crashing down. She looked so, so…” Admiration softened her voice, lurked in the bittersweet curve of a sudden faint smile.

Now Eva wanted to breach the gap between them and commit violence. “You speak as if you admire her. As if she did something astounding, some wonderful thing. As if she didn’t make a foolish, selfish choice. As if she didn’t throw her life away for nothing.”

“Nothing? She protected the person she loved. You’re the one throwing away her life, her sacrifice, by taking Thomas. She—”

“Would you do it?” Eva interrupted.

Water beaded above Lina’s top lip, glinted like glitter at the ends of her lashes. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

Eva leapt on that hesitation. “Would you take his place? Would you trade your life for his knowing exactly how it feels to drown?”

Lina’s chest stilled. For a second she didn’t breathe, and in that second, Eva knew Lina would give anything, trade everything and anyone, for the promise that she’d never have to go through it again. That she’d never feel the briny scrape of seawater on her tongue, choking her throat, burning her lungs. That she’d never feel so utterly, entirely helpless as she fought and fought and fought and failed to reach the surface.

Still, she wanted to hear Lina say it aloud. She wanted to hear her admit Thomas’s life was not worth her own. Eva’s voice dipped low. “If you say yes to taking his place, I give you my word I’ll let him go.” She offered the promise like one would a bribe.

Lina made no move to accept it. She stared, and her fingers twitched against her thigh, but that was all.

Eva smiled. “Not such a romantic vision, is it?” The water slapped, the sea serpent swimming a restless circle around them. “You value yourself more than you think. No boy was worth my sister’s life. No boy is worth your life.” The words flooded out of her. It felt so good to say them, these things she’d never had a chance to say to Natalia. “My sister is not some example to live by, some lesson to emulate. She is not a storybook character to idolize and hold up and romanticize. You should be grateful I’ve taught you this lesson, Lina Kirk. I won’t punish you for attacking my palace. I won’t feed you to my pet, and I will even let you go home,” she added with an air of great magnanimity. “You can return to the rest of your family. Live a long and happy life.”

Tell everyone how generous their new queen is.

Icy trickles of water dripped down Lina’s neck and past her collarbone. One of the straps of her dress was slipping off her shoulder.

“Aren’t you going to say thank you?”

Salty air whispered through the sea cave. Emerald light danced over the craggy walls.

“My brother.”

Eva cocked her head.

“What about my brother?”

Eva didn’t answer. She couldn’t let him go, too. Either he or Lina would have to be punished for their storming the Water Palace, otherwise the islanders would start to get ideas.

Lina probably knew it too. Her gaze had dropped to the water. She gave a tiny, infinitesimal nod at Eva’s silence, consoling herself perhaps. Then she looked up.

“I’ll do it. I’ll take Thomas’s place. And my brother’s. Let him go, too. It’s enough to punish one of us, right? I’ll stay with you and be the sacrifice, so please—” Lina bowed her head. “Please. It’s my fault they’re here. Thomas joined the revel to help me. You’ve left him alone before. I’ll stay with you instead, I promise. Please.”

A wild disbelief flared through Eva. It felt like losing, like they’d been playing a game Eva hadn’t known they were playing, and she had somehow lost.

Why did people not have the same love for themselves that they did for others?

She stared at that bowed blond head, speechless, the hollow space where her heart used to be aching, expanding into an emptiness that threatened to swallow her. And it hit her: the sacrifice might actually work this year if it was Lina.

It wasn’t love she felt. It wasn’t even like. But Eva would suffer, and for the dark tide, that might just be enough. It would hurt to watch this foolish life snuff out and know that Thomas Lin had somehow managed to steal another girl’s soul.

Someone else seemed to take possession of Eva’s body then. Her arm reached out and a voice that was no longer her own whispered, “Very well.”

If Lina Kirk was so keen to embrace death, then who was she to stop her? And perhaps this was a better kind of victory; she would take someone from Thomas the way he had taken someone from her.