Leif slung his pack over his shoulder and adjusted the strap of his sword as if he weren’t leaving me to die. As if this was just another day for him. When he finally crossed to the door, he paused, one hand resting on the handle.
“When I’m the captain of the Silver Wings,” he said, glancing at me over his shoulder, “I’ll name a vessel after you.”
The door creaked as he pulled it open, letting the cold wind rush into the cottage. His eyes met mine one last time, and for a fleeting moment, something flickered there—hesitation, regret, I couldn’t tell. On his arm, my heartbeat began to slow.
“You are an ocean I could easily get lost in,” Leif said. “But I can’t afford to drown.” The emotion was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Good luck.” Leif stepped out into the night.
The door shut behind him with a dull thud that echoed through the small space, leaving me alone in the silence. My legs gave out, and I sank onto the floor, my body already beginning to betray me as the potion took hold.
The room felt colder without him, the fire no longer enough to keep the chill at bay. I wanted to hate him—truly, deeply hate him—but all I could feel was the ache of his absence and the sickening weight of knowing he’d left me behind.
I stared at the closed door, my mind spinning with a thousand plans and none of them feasible. The betrayal stung, yes, but more than that, it hollowed me out. Because even as I satthere, going paralyzed and helpless, part of me still wanted him to come back.
I wouldn’t stay in the cottage.
With all my strength, I shoved Clark’s note into my pocket, grabbed my axe and dagger, and dragged myself out the door. Leif was long gone, his footprints in the snow leading away from me. I hauled myself up the hill while the winter rushed into my bones to freeze me. It wasn’t enough to cool the anger.
How dare he. How dare he light me on fire then leave me in the cold. How dare he make me feel alive before he suffocated me. This was the passion I’d been missing, the knowing I would do whatever it took to get him to notice me because he was all that mattered.
I hated this with all my heart.
Agonizingly slow steps led me to the top of the small hill. My legs burned with the effort, each movement growing heavier. By the time I crested the peak, they refused to move altogether.
I collapsed into the snow. Cold seeped through my clothes and bit at my skin. The world tilted, my vision blurring at the edges, but I managed to push myself into a sitting position. My arms trembled under my weight.
The icy wind whipped at my face, stinging my cheeks and tearing at my hair. I tilted my head back, staring up at the gray, clouded sky. It felt like the world was mocking me, silent and indifferent to my struggle. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath, and I clenched my fists, wanting to scream at the world.
Before I could gather the strength to decide my next move, a shadow flickered at the edge of my vision.
Thief appeared as suddenly as if he’d stepped out of the snow itself, his grin as sharp and mischievous as ever. The small boy sat cross-legged in front of me, looking far too pleased with himself, as if this were all some grand joke meant for his amusement.
“Remember that bracelet I offered you?” he said, his tone light and teasing. “The one that warned you about danger? Bet you wish you’d taken it now.”
“Help me,” I forced out.
Thief tilted his head, his bright eyes gleaming like a cat’s watching a wounded bird. “Help you?” he repeated, as though the idea were utterly foreign to him. “The best I can do is limit the potion’s effects to one day—for a price, of course. Since Leif’s already given it to you, I can’t interfere with competitors enough to take it away.” He leaned forward, his grin widening, as if he were about to share a secret. “Though Delilah would like me to tell you that perhaps killing Leif is in your best interest after all.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. So that was why she let this happen.
Delilah needed me to make a choice—to decide if I was willing to trade Leif’s life for hers. She was pushing me toward what she wanted.
My body moved slower with every passing second, the potion’s paralyzing effects spreading like a creeping frost. My fingers tingled and my arms felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each, but my mind raced. The wheels spun furiously despite the physical stillness overtaking me.
Thief watched me with an expression that was almost amused, his head resting on his hands as if he were waiting for the next act in this twisted game.
I latched onto his words, grasping for any thread of hope. “One day,” I rasped, my voice barely audible. “You can bring me back after one day.”
He nodded, an infuriatingly casual gesture. “That’s right. One day, and you’ll be free to move again. Of course,” he added, his grin never faltering, “whether one day will be enough for you to turn things around… well, that’s another story entirely.”
One day.
Was that enough time? Could I find someone to trade for Delilah, fight my way to the center, and reach it before anyone else? My gut churned. The center was too close now. Someone would reach it before me. Someone would claim the Silver Wings, and when they did, it would be over.
I’d lose everything.
The weight of the realization pressed down on me, heavier than the snow. My vision swam as panic clawed at my chest, but I forced myself to focus. There had to be a way. Therehadto be.
But even as I sat there, freezing and half-paralyzed, I couldn’t stop the thought that crept into my mind:Delilah was right.