Page 28 of Enslaved

“I can tell you now,” the Prince says with emphasis, “she will not be giving away any kisses on request.”

The sea breeze whips through my hair, stings my lips with salt. I shiver and pull my cloak a little tighter. “Then I will bargain with her.”

The Prince crosses his arms. “How many layers deep into bargains do you plan to bury yourself?”

I turn away, cast my gaze out across the ocean. The Hinter Sea, that great expanse of unknowable vastness that both connects and separates the many realms and worlds of Eledria. Mariners must be brave indeed to travel those waves. An unwary sailor might find himself pulled adrift from reality itself, doomed to sail on forever into oblivion.

A shudder runs down my spine. I do not relish the idea of a journey to the Realm Under Wave.

The Prince takes a step toward me. Wind pulls at his coat, billowing it behind him like wings. For a moment, I think he will reach out, take my hand. But he doesn’t. He merely looks at me, his eyes hard and all-too knowing. “It’s worse than you think. Seraphine has not been seen in the Upper Lands since the signing of the Pledge. She refused to condone a peace agreement with humans, whom she hates above all other beings. In a fit of rage, she retreated to her realm and established barriers which none may breach, not with the greatest magic.”

There’s something in his voice . . . some hesitation or . . . fear. I study his face, my eyes narrowing. “You know a way. Through the barriers.” He blinks. Then abruptly pivots away from me, avoiding my gaze. I take a step nearer, pressing my point. “You know how to reach Ulakrana and the merqueen’s court. You know how it can be done.”

I’m right. I can see it in the tight line of his jaw, in the tension of his throat muscles. “It doesn’t matter,” he growls.

“It does!” Excitement and terror grip my heart. I have to keep myself from shouting. “If you know a way, you must tell me.”

“It would require far more than you should be willing to give.”

“I’ll give what I need to. Just tellme.”

“You would have to drown.”

An icy chill washes over me, like a wave of death itself. I draw back a step, as though the Prince has just threatened to do the deed himself.

He turns to look at me at last, his eyes bright under the stars. “When she left, Seraphine declared the only humans who would enter her city from that day forward would be drowned humans. She has held true to her word ever since.” He shakes his head then, his brow creasing with some expression I cannot name. “So you see, Darling? It’s hopeless. You must give this up now.”

“There’s a way.” I see the truth in his eyes. He wouldn’t look so afraid if it were as impossible as he’s trying to make it out to be. “You know a way to drown and not . . . not die.”

He turns on heel and strides away from me, making for the nearest path down to the beach. For a moment, I cannot summon my voice. Then I cry out,“Stop!”

The force of Obligation ripples out from me and halts him in his tracks. I watch his shoulders stiffen, his hands clench into fists.

“You are obliged to work with me until my quest is complete.” With slow, deliberate steps, I cover the space between us until I stand but a few paces behind him. “If you know how I may do this—how I may reach the merqueen—you must tell me.”

Slowly, slowly, he turns his head, looking at me over his shoulder. His violet eyes gleam in the starlight, sharp with dread. “There is a way, but . . .”

“But what?”

“It will involve another bargain.”

I swallow. “With someone worse than Vokarum?”

“Infinitely so.”

“Who is it?”

The Prince curses and runs his fingers through his hair. He’s fighting the compulsion of Obligation, trying to find some way around it. In the end, however, he has no choice but to answer. “It’s not a guarantee,” he growls, turning to face me once more. “Not by a long shot. But if anyone can give you the means to drown yourself without dying, it’s the crones.”

“The who?”

“The crones. The Blessed Beldames. The Daughters of Bhorriel. Have you not heard of them?”

“No.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Lucky you.”

“Who is Bhorriel?” Just the sound of that name fills me with dread. Like an instinct born into my blood, unlearned but always known.

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