I had to take a breath, had to open my mouth and take a breath, had to ease the burning—
Then the door was ripped away.
And the faelight remained bright enough for me to see the three beautiful, ethereal faces hissing through fish’s teeth as their spindly webbed fingers snatched us out of the stairs, and into their frogskin arms.
Water-wraiths.
But I couldn’t stand it.
And as those spiny hands grabbed my arm, I opened my mouth, water shoving in, cutting off thought and sound and breath. My body seized, those talons vanishing—
Debris and seaweed and water shot past me, and I had the vague sense of being hurtled through the water, so fast the water burned beneath my eyelids.
And then hot air—air, air, air, but my lungs were full of water as—
A fist slammed into my stomach and I vomited water across the waves. I gulped down air, blinking at the bruised purple and blushing pink of the morning sky.
A sputter and gasp not too far from me, and I treaded water as I turned in the bay to see Amren vomiting as well—but alive.
And in the waves between us, onyx hair plastered to their strange heads like helmets, the water-wraiths floated, staring with dark, large eyes.
The sun was rising beyond them—the city encircling us stirring.
The one in the center said, “Our sister’s debt is paid.”
And then they were gone.
Amren was already swimming for the distant mainland shore.
Praying they didn’t come back and make a meal of us, I hurried after her, trying to keep my movements small to avoid detection.
We both reached a quiet, sandy cove and collapsed.
A shadow blocked out the sun, and a boot toed my calf. “What,” said Rhysand, still in battle-black, “are you two doing?”
I opened my eyes to find Amren hoisting herself up on her elbows. “Where the hell were you?” she demanded.
“You two set off every damned trigger in the place. I was hunting down each guard who went to sound the alarm.” My throat was ravaged—and sand tickled my cheeks, my bare hands. “I thought you had it covered,” he said to her.
Amren hissed, “That place, or that damned book, nearly nullified my powers. We almost drowned.”
His gaze shot to me. “I didn’t feel it through the bond—”
“It probably nullified that, too, you stupid bastard,” Amren snapped.
His eyes flickered. “Did you get it?” Not at all concerned that we were half-drowned and had very nearly been dead.
I touched my jacket—the heavy metal lump within.
“Good,” Rhys said, and I looked behind him at the sudden urgency in his tone.
Sure enough, in the castle across the bay, people were darting about.
“I missed some guards,” he gritted out, grabbed both our arms, and we vanished.
The dark wind was cold and roaring, and I had barely enough strength to cling to him.
It gave out entirely, along with Amren’s, as we landed in the town house foyer—and we both collapsed to the wood floor, spraying sand and water on the carpet.
Cassian shouted from the dining room behind us, “What the hell?”
I glared up at Rhysand, who merely stepped toward the breakfast table. “I’m waiting for an explanation, too,” he merely said to wide-eyed Cassian, Azriel, and Mor.
But I turned to Amren, who was still hissing on the floor. Her red-rimmed eyes narrowed. “How?”
“During the Tithe, the water-wraith emissary said they had no gold, no food to pay. They were starving.” Every word ached, and I thought I might vomit again. He’d deserve it, if I puked all over the carpet. Though he’d probably take it from my wages. “So I gave her some of my jewelry to pay her dues. She swore that she and her sisters would never forget the kindness.”
“Can someone explain, please?” Mor called from the room beyond.
We remained on the floor as Amren began quietly laughing, her small body shaking.
“What?” I demanded.
“Only an immortal with a mortal heart would have given one of those horrible beasts the money. It’s so … ” Amren laughed again, her dark hair plastered with sand and seaweed. For a moment, she even looked human. “Whatever luck you live by, girl … thank the Cauldron for it.”
The others were all watching, but I felt a chuckle whisper out of me.
Followed by a laugh, as rasping and raw as my lungs. But a real laugh, perhaps edged by hysteria—and profound relief.
We looked at each other, and laughed again.
“Ladies,” Rhysand purred—a silent order.
I groaned as I got to my feet, sand falling everywhere, and offered a hand to Amren to rise. Her grip was firm, but her quicksilver eyes were surprisingly tender as she squeezed it before snapping her fingers.
We were both instantly clean and warm, our clothes dry. Save for a wet patch around my breast—where that box waited.
My companions were solemn-faced as I approached and reached inside that pocket. The metal bit into my fingers, so cold it burned.
I dropped it onto the table.
It thudded, and they all recoiled, swearing.
Rhys crooked a finger at me. “One last task, Feyre. Unlock it, please.”
My knees were buckling—my head spinning and mouth bone-dry and full of salt and grit, but … I wanted to be rid of it.
So I slid into a chair, tugging that hateful box to me, and placed a hand on top.