CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Silence. Light. Orange. Smoke.

Caledonia blinked. The sky was gone. It was lost behind a haze of orange. And it was so quiet. It was as if sound had been sucked from the air and all that was left was this muffled ringing.

Caledonia blinked again. The ringing grew louder, and she realized that she was lying on her back, hands twisted painfully beneath her. She climbed awkwardly to her knees and paused as her head spun so violently it threatened to send her right back to the ground.

Orange smoke hung thick in the air. No, not smoke. It smelled sweet. Too sweet. And she could taste it on her tongue. It was like honey and it coated the inside of her mouth and her nose. This delightful sweetness consumed her senses. She wanted more.

No. Wait.

Caledonia spat on the ground. Bloody saliva landed at her feet and she spat again, but there was no escaping it. This wasn’t smoke, it was Silt, powdered and hanging in the air around her, flooding her lungs with every breath, sneaking into her body with every swallow. But why?

The factory. The answer hit her as soon as the question. Donnally! He’d done it. He’d taken her charges and destroyed the factory. Squinting through the haze, she confirmed her suspicions. The factory was demolished. Fire tore through the roof, sending plumes of muddy smoke into the air while all around its base, Silt created a dense ring.

Lir. Lir had been so close. Holding a dagger—

Caledonia spun. There was a heat at her wrists as if her bindings burned there, and her head was starting to float or grow or bloom like a flower. It was a nice feeling. An exciting feeling. Her pain was there but muffled, and as the ringing in her ears slowly receded, she felt sharper, stronger.

Something barreled into her side, knocking her off balance and driving her shoulder into the ground. There was a growl in her ear and then her head snapped back.

Blood spilled down her chin. She felt the warmth of it more than the pain, and for a second she was struck with wonder. Then Lir hit her again and she rolled backward, skidding up onto her feet.

She crouched low. Lir mirrored her position just a few feet away. All trace of his strange sorrow had been erased from his features. All that was left was pain. He was hurt, Caledonia realized. Not by her, but by Donnally.

Betrayal had dragged its steely fingers across Lir’s heart, what little of it there was. He was wounded and he was angry.

Through the sharpened lens of her Silt-soaked mind, Caledonia understood that this was not the same Lir who had asked her to choose him just a moment before. This was a Lir rejected by the one person he thought loved him. And now that Donnally’s allegiance had been stripped away, Lir would take out every drop of his brutal hurt on her.

“Ask me for mercy,” Lir said, voice a growl.

The words made Caledonia’s gut churn. Ask me for mercy. He had asked for her mercy the night they met on that beach. She’d given it and he’d taken everything from her. Now he wanted her to do the same. Not because he intended to give it. But because he planned to withhold it.

Asking for mercy from someone with a knife in your gut was to acknowledge their power. And Caledonia was done acknowledging Lir’s power.

“You don’t have any to give,” she spat.

With a snarl, Lir dove for her. Caledonia dodged, rolling swiftly out of reach. She tugged at her bindings, hoping whatever spark had landed there had weakened the rope. Wet warmth spilled down her hands and she tugged harder.

Lir renewed his attack. This time he went high, forcing her to dodge. She spun and danced out of his way, but with every movement, her head spun a little more than the rest of her. She’d never tasted Silt in her life and suddenly she was inhaling it with every breath.

Where Lir seemed to thrive on the additional dose, Caledonia struggled to know where her body ended and the air began. She couldn’t sustain this for long. And she definitely couldn’t win in this condition. She needed help.

Donnally. Where was Donnally? Had he survived the explosion?

Again, she tugged at her wrists. This time, she felt a hint of movement.

Time passed in a blur. Caledonia evaded Lir’s attacks but each time her feet felt slower, her lungs tighter. Her hands grew hot and wet as she fought to pull them apart with no luck. Lir lashed out, dragging the blade across her chest. A curtain of blood dripped down her front. She felt the pressure of it, but not the sting. Lir laughed, low and confident. As if he were toying with her.

It took her a second to realize that was exactly what he was doing. He was wearing her down. He would enjoy cutting her apart a little at a time over killing her with a single blow. And that was something she could use to her advantage.

Dodging again, Caledonia let her breath come a little harder, and she fell briefly to one knee.

Lir slowed his own steps in response, giving her a moment to recover. Or perhaps he was savoring her struggle. Blood shone on the edge of his knife as he stood with the sun on his face. “Bale Blossom,” he said, teasing her with the name. “Your final gift to me is your life.”

He struck, darting forward with incredible speed. Caledonia tugged at her wrists and felt the snap of the ropes. Her hands came free just in time to deflect Lir’s attack.

Surprise painted his face as Caledonia used his own momentum against him, twisting his wrist and driving him into the ground in one smooth motion.

He dropped her dagger and before he could recover, Caledonia scooped it up and drove it into his gut.

Lir’s eyes widened in surprise. His mouth gaped. Blood bloomed over Caledonia’s hand and she barely stopped herself from driving it all the way through him.

She could kill him now. Easily. His life was in her hands. Most of her wanted to take it. To kill him as she had Tassos. The world would be so much better without him lurking in the shadows.

A wind ghosted across her cheeks, bringing with it the voices of her mother and Pisces, “We can fight them as long as we don’t become them.”

For a shuddering breath, Caledonia believed that it was too late. She was too much like Lir and there was no coming back. Someone needed to end this, and why shouldn’t it be her? All of her terrible choices had prepared her for this moment. She could make one more.

But she didn’t need to.

With a shaking hand, she pulled the dagger free and stepped away.

“You said I gave you power. My resistance made you stronger, but you were wrong,” Caledonia said as Lir panted on the ground, one hand pressed to the wound in his gut. “The only thing I’ve ever given you is mercy.”

Laughter bubbled through Lir’s lips. “Mercy is weakness.”

Caledonia considered that. She’d shown him mercy and lost her family instead. She’d offered mercy to any who asked for it and lost all of Cloudbreak. If she wanted to believe mercy was a weakness, she had every reason in the world. But mercy was something else. Mercy was trust. And the only way to make this world something other than what it was now was to trust that other people wanted the same thing. Trust was the opposite of violence. And that was something Lir would never understand.

She smiled at Lir and was surprised to find some of her own anger was unraveling at the edges. “Mercy,” she said, “is more powerful than a bullet.”