Lina
Lina didn’t stay.
Inaction was agony. There wasn’t a force on earth that could have kept her still. Her fingers curled around the door handle a heartbeat after Eva shoved her through to safety.
She fled the salon, fear chasing her through door after door after door, through rooms blissfully free of that writhing, living tide. She ran until she found herself back in her marble-floored bedroom, stumbling past the amber-and-gold-leaf screens, collapsing, shivering, onto a daybed in shock.
No one chased after her.
Minutes passed. Then hours. Hours where her mind refused to stop spinning. Her thoughts flooded with too many terrible scenarios to banish with a magical bargain or a tap on the wall.
Had it been like this for Thomas when he was taken? Had he felt this lost and alone, this damn frightened? This confused? This helpless? Lina’s eyes burned. She swiped furiously at her face as a tear escaped to scald her cheek.
The little reef snake Eva had gifted her slid from beneath a pillow, coiling its stripes around her wrist and fingers as if to squeeze her hand.
Lina prised the little creature free, pacing up and down, up and down, ignoring the growing hot ache in her ankle, almost enjoying it, because she deserved pain and because at least that was familiar—that she could handle. Her eyes skimmed unseeing over the chaos of magical gifts as she struggled to think of something, anything, other than what had happened on Eva’s balcony before the dark tide had come to claim what it was owed.
To claim her.
What the sea wants, the sea shall have, as sailors said.
She suddenly couldn’t stand the still-damp clothes clinging to her. It felt like she’d been licked, swallowed, tasted, and then spat out. Lina stripped, shimmying into a short, glittery green shift with matching gloves. She tied her blood-coral beads in a double knot around her neck and felt a little more in control. The familiar ritual settled her nerves. It was like putting on makeup before a performance, like putting on armor, like prepping for war.
She combed her bangs out, brushed the sleek, damp bob of her hair, wincing at the state of her roots. Put on lipstick, rouged her cheeks, painted her eyes with shadow.
Keep moving. Do something. Don’t think.
Don’t think.
A hum sang through her skin as she picked up the comb Eva had given her, thumb sliding over red string and silken black strands threaded tight through the shiny teeth. Heat flooded Lina’s cheeks, and she hesitated, then shoved the comb back into her brassiere. A gift was a gift. And a piece of emergency magic was always useful to have, no matter where it came from.
No matter the witch it came from.
Where was Eva now? Had those black waves washed her away, drowned her in the dark corridors of her own palace? Drowned all the witches? Maybe Lina was the only one in here left alive.
Maybe that was for the best. Now that she was calmer, Lina didn’t think she could face anyone ever again, especially Eva.
Her fingers reached up questioningly to trace her lips, as if she could recapture the feeling of the Eva’s mouth crashing down on her own.
What even was that kiss?
And why had she enjoyed it?
Lina knew what love was supposed to look like. She knew what she was supposed to want, who she was supposed to want. She’d been brought up on sweeping tales of soft, sweet caresses, stories of hand-holding, butterflies fluttering in stomachs, and epic, tongue-tied romance.
She didn’t want to hold Eva’s hand. She wanted to shove her up against a wall and scream, “What have you done to me?” She’d wanted to bruise her hips when she’d kissed her. She’d liked how powerful she’d felt. When she thought of Eva, there were no butterflies; only this heated swoop in her stomach, like a thrill, like adrenaline. This violent uneven rhythm of her heart.
Trying to reconcile what she was currently feeling with all those soft, sweet tales, with all the scenes she’d rehearsed in her head, with all she knew… She didn’t know anymore. What if what she thought was love wasn’t what anyone else felt when they said the word? How would she ever know if what she was feeling was right? Was truly love?
Lina paced out onto the balcony. The rain was still falling, but as mist now, not as fire. Ordinary gray clouds roiled and readied themselves for the next brutal onslaught.
The shadow of a lonely seabird threaded through the gloom. Lina gripped the hip-high balustrade, the only thing standing between her and the sea below.
Did the waves look closer than they had a day ago? Was the inky water climbing higher?
And what of the moon? Last night, the storm-ravaged sky had hidden it. How full and fat had it grown?
She tried to distract herself with a story, seeking refuge in fantasy and wild imaginings, envisioning herself in a different time, a different place.
It didn’t work.
The balcony faced the city, and even in the overcast gloom Caldella was clearly visible, a faded pastel tapestry of town houses and winding cobbled streets. The crescent isle looked fragile somehow, slim, like the moon the day before it went dark. Waves with white teeth gnawed at its edges, swallowing districts piece by piece. Black water snaked toward the city center in sickly, swollen veins.
Something caught in Lina’s throat. Her beautiful fairy-tale city. Her sinking city. Her home.
Drowning.
She backed away from the balustrade, knuckles white.
At least if Eva… Did Eva really care? Was it possible she truly…
Was it terrible of Lina to want to believe it, to want it, for her stomach to flip at the thought? To think that she of all people could have captured the wicked Witch Queen’s heart? A girl people claimed had no heart?
Lina’s own heart skipped a beat.
She shook the thought away.
At least if the magic worked, her death would mean something. Finley was out there, and Uncle and Laolao and all her aunties and cousins, and Ma and Mama were sailing home. Ensuring their happiness and survival—that was less a sacrifice and more her duty, wasn’t it? If she thought of it that way…
No. She shouldn’t be thinking of it that way. She should be thinking about how she could use Eva’s affection to her advantage to save herself. If Eva cared for her, how could she choose between saving the person she loved and saving everyone? It would be like with Thomas and Natalia.
And yet, just thinking that, thinking of taking advantage of someone’s feelings like that, someone she might even…
Something inside of Lina rebelled. A burst of panic like a caught bird fluttering inside her rib cage.
A voice drifted out onto the balcony, calling her name. Lina whirled around, fighting her way through the balcony drapes, gossamer lace catching like cobwebs at her arms, her face, blindfolding her before she stumbled into the warm embrace of the room.
A boy was weaving past the amber-and-gold-leaf screens, a boy with sea-tanned skin and sun-kissed hair. A boy in soaking, storm-wet clothes. The boy who’d once carried her home when she turned an ankle.
Lina stopped cold. Thomas rushed forward. Amber lanterns swinging from the ceiling faded the scene like an old photograph.
He didn’t feel real. He looked like someone from a dream, someone she was struggling to remember, to grasp the shape of. Who was Thomas Lin? How well did she really know him?
He stopped before her. “Lina.”
The way he said her name, like a prayer or a wish, turned her legs to jelly. All her old shyness flooded back. A thousand questions raced through her mind, a thousand things she longed to say, wanted to shout. A queer part of her wanted to apologize. But what came out was a question. The very last she expected herself to ask.
“Did you care about her at all? Natalia?”
Did you love her? Did she kiss you? Did you like it?
Or am I the only strange one, having all these confusing feelings for a witch?
Thomas’s face shuttered. His gaze dropped to the floor. He was silent for a long, long moment.
A moment in which Lina could hardly breathe.
“I don’t know.” Thomas scraped a hand over the back of his head. “Truly. But what else could I do? I thought if I made her care enough for me, she wouldn’t go through with it, and I quickly realized I could make her care. I know what girls like. I know girls like me. And she was easy. Even though she was the Witch Queen and people said she was wicked. She was quiet and a little shy.”
Something inside of Lina splintered.
“At the beginning, I hated her. At the revel, I thought I was kissing this girl I liked, and then Ula’s face changed, and then I was here. Trapped. Waiting to die like all those other boys. I think… I think hated everyone then. Everyone just lets this happen year after year, and no one tries to stop it. They just accept it, celebrate it, like we have no other choice. But later…” Thomas’s expression was pained. “When you’re acting like you’re in love all the time, it’s impossible not to…to…it all starts to blur, what’s true and where the lie ends.”
Play a part long enough, and it starts to turn real.
Lina swallowed past the lump in her throat. She knew the truth of that from dancing, knew it from the fantasies she spun for herself, when she stole courage from the image of Natalia holding strong against the tide, when she hummed the song of the girl who’d held on to her lover through enchantment and fire, pretending she was brave until she was brave.
She knew the power in pretending.
Thomas breathed out. “They said they wanted it to stop, too. Eva tried to find another way to calm the tide so I wouldn’t have to be sacrificed, so I could stay with Natalia. We all tried, Natalia and Eva and another witch called Yara and I. It tied us together, that desperation, more than anything else could have. But Eva’s different now. Colder.”
Because of you, Lina wanted to say, but didn’t. It sounded too much like an accusation.
And maybe it was.
“I never expected—I never thought things would end the way they did. I thought if I made Natalia care for me, she’d let me go. That was all I wanted. I tried so hard to be strong, but God help me, I was so afraid. I didn’t want to die. And when nothing was working, I thought if I told her… Those books said so many things. She promised she wouldn’t let me…” Thomas’s voice cracked.
The ache started somewhere deep in Lina’s marrow.
Thomas stepped closer, clasping both her hands in his, calloused palms warm through her gloves. “I know I’m not a good person, Lina. Not like you. And when it happened all over again with you, I was still a coward. I still didn’t want to die. I couldn’t make myself move. I let you take my place like she did. But I want to change. I failed you at the regatta, but I won’t fail you now. Finley has a boat—”
“Finley?” Lina put a hand to her mouth.
Finley in his broom boat sailing desperately round and round the Water Palace.
Because her brother was just as stubborn about not giving up as she was.
For a flicker, Thomas’s expression turned rueful, and the slight discoloration beneath his left eye suddenly looked a lot like a fading bruise. “Your brother has quite the temper. But he wasn’t going to refuse the help. I know the palace best. He’s distracting Yara while I fetch you.” He tugged on her hands. “Come, we have to hurry before the storm picks up. It’s almost a full moon.”
Lina’s feet were rooted to the floor. “But the island.”
“Sacrificing yourself won’t solve anything. Saving Caldella only means another sacrifice next year. And the year after, and the year after that. More innocent lives. This island is cursed. It will never end. Do you really want to be a part of that?” Thomas’s cheeks darkened with color. “Come with me. At the revel you said you would hold on to me. I know we’ve never… I didn’t have the courage to say how I felt before. But I need you, Lina. You came after me, didn’t you? You were willing to give up everything for me.”
Lina’s heart pounded. “I—” For a second she saw it, dreamed it, lived it, a version of the world where she took his hand and left the palace, escaped the wicked witch and the hungry tide, the cursed island, and sailed away with the boy she—
Loved?
The words stuck in her throat.
Oh, why hadn’t he come sooner? Why hadn’t he come for her before things had gotten all confused?
“Lina?”
A distant rumble of thunder saved her from answering.
Thomas shot a wary glance over his shoulder. “We need to go now.” He crossed to the daybed, rummaging through her gifts. “They gave you presents, didn’t they? Magic?” He threw a dress on the floor. A spell bottle crashed after it, shattering. The little reef snake let out a scathing hiss.
Thomas jumped and flung a pillow at it.
Lina flinched. “Don’t!” There was something violating about him tearing through all the things Eva had given her.
“Here, we’ll take these.” He snatched up a palmful of the black pearls and caught her hand again. “They’re good for charming the doors. Here.” He handed her a wooden oar he’d left leaning against one of the amber screens. Broom boats didn’t need them; had he brought it as a weapon?
“Come on, your brother’s waiting.” He smiled softly then, so proud and so full of hope. “We’ve come to rescue you.”
Lina couldn’t make herself say anything as he pulled her across the room and out the door.