Page 129 of The Second Death of Locke
“It’s different,” Grey insisted.
“Is it?”
She didn’t answer. The only noise was the waves crashing below as she considered this. “I might understand why Kier is angry,” she said finally. “But that doesn’t explain why everyone else is willing to die.”
Ola chewed on her lip. “If it helps, it’s not about you at all. Locke was always the linchpin in the middle of a complex set of treaties. It benefits Scaelas and Cleoc to return to that.”
Grey put her elbows on the stone and rested her head in her hands. It did help, and she did know that, though it was easy to forget. It was almost a relief to know they were following her for her political significance rather than her personality. “And there’s been no word from Nestria. They hope to remain neutral, to fall in with the favor of whoever wins.”
“Lucky bastards,” Ola said simply, rubbing Grey’s back. “I envy them. If only someone would do the work forus.”
They stood in silence for a while, listening to the wind, growing progressively more damp as the clouds spat down their drizzle. Grey watched the warships out at sea.
She flexed her fingers, checking in on her well, and the gentle pull of the power from the Isle. Now, days into her position as Locke, she understood it further. It was like a mapwork of light inside of her: she could feel the strongest tether, between her and Kier, shining golden and strong; there was another flow of power too, a doorway between her and the Isle.
But something had changed, since time started again. She felt pinpricks within her of all other wells. Before, when she’d reached for someone’s power on the battlefield, to rip it away, it had been there when she’d looked for it. Now, she didn’t even need to look. She could see the connections, like silvery threads of power, windingfrom Locke to those who carried its riches.
“I think they expect something impressive of me,” she said quietly.
Ola scoffed. “You’re Locke. You brought back an entireisland. How much more impressive do you need to be?”
Grey sighed. “I don’t know. And I don’t knowhow. I barely have a grip on my own power—I’ve only been here for a few days. But I have to do something.”
“Like what?” Ola asked. “Blow up the Isle?”
Grey elbowed her arm. “I don’t know,” she said. “Bigger than that, even. It seemed like when they presented their choices, there were only two: marry or fight. But what if there’s a third choice? One of my own making? One that does not force so many to their deaths?”
“Any ideas? Happy to brainstorm.”
Grey laughed without humor. “I don’t think it’s that easy.” She stretched her hands, feeling the power of the Isle running through her. “Do you remember, in the valley, when we thought we were going to die?”
“How could I forget?” Ola said. “I would count it among the finest hours of our friendship.”
Grey shifted her weight, the thoughts crystalizing. “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Back there, I… ripped the power away. It hurt, but I did it.”
“It didn’t just hurt, Grey. It nearly killed you.”
She inclined her head, allowing that. “But what if I could do it on a larger scale?”
Ola was quiet for a moment, considering that. “I think,” she said carefully, “you would be showing your hand, and demonstrating that you have a control of the power that… puts you more at risk.”
“I agree.”
“And if it nearly killed you last time to pull the power from a few dozen wells, I can’t imagine the catastrophic disaster to your own body to pull it fromthousands. Can you even do that, at a distance? How would it work?”
“I don’t know.” Grey pressed her lips together. She had known for long enough that it was very possible she’d become a casualty of thiswar herself. “I’m not worried about dying,” she lied.
Ola rolled her eyes. “Well, it makes things a lot easier if youdon’tdie,” she said.
“It would save lives. If I could do it.”
“But what if you can’t, and you die too?”
Grey shrugged. There was no way around it, and Ola was right: it was possible she could pull that much power, but there was very little chance of her own survival if she did. Besides: “I think, if I did it. If I pulled the power. I think everyone would hate me. Or fear me, at the very least.” She chewed her lip, her eyes watering in the frigid wind. “I have no desire to flex my hand and control the nation.”
“Even if it saves lives?” Ola said, flipping her own argument back on her.
Grey had nothing to say to that.
