Page 224 of Lana Pecherczyk
“You came back,” she said. “What happened to your clothes?”
My clothes?
Frowning, Blake glanced down and gasped. “Oh no, it’s ruined.”
Her sequins were tarnished and falling off. She’d spent so long sewing them on, giving it the razz. Now everyone could see the skeletal fabric had always been there, hiding beneath.
“Jeff’s going to laugh at me,” she groaned. “He told me this dress was cheap.”
She plucked at the hem, pulling at the sequins. So many had lost their shine.
“—the anatomy diagram—” River’s voice, desperate and distant.
Blake’s head snapped up, searching. River?
He’d gone back for the diagrams. He believed in her.
“Blake,” Ada’s voice warbled from somewhere. “Some of these are smudged. I can’t make out this section.”
Relief curdled.
Of course, even her one good thing wasn’t good enough.
Oh my God, babe. You’re so clueless.
“Shh.” The mermaid put a finger to her lips. “The tide’s coming in.”
Coolness touched Blake’s forehead, then vanished.
“Something’s wrong. The mana won’t—” Ada’s voice sharpened. “Find Clara …Go.”
Blake shivered violently. The sand was so cold, colder than she’d ever felt on Perth beaches. But the sun still burned her skin, contradicting everything.
Someone screamed nearby—Trix.
She gets to stay,Blake thought distantly.She gets to build something beautiful.
The irony tasted bitter. Or maybe that was blood.
“You owe her!”
The shout was so loud.
“Dad?” she murmured, angry. “What are you doing here?”
“I can’t find the workshop. Everything’s underwater.”
But it wasn’t her father’s hands holding hers. Through the blinding light, she tried to sit up. A gentle pressure pushed her back onto the cold sand. A shadow fell across her face. Black andwhite wings blocked out the burning sun moments before a bird landed beside her.
“Scarface? I thought you’d left me.”
The magpie cocked his head, that damaged eye studying her. His feathers were ruffled, but she saw the fierce loyalty beneath his scars.
“You’re not so scary,” she whispered, reaching toward him. “It’s okay. You should go and protect what matters.”
She touched warm skin instead of feathers. The magpie’s worried squawk sounded like her name.
Blake.
