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The sun was warm over my chilled skin, and I let my aching eyes skip over the ship’s deck. It was worse for wear. Large, jagged holes marred its sides. Some of the sails had torn and come free from their lines. Nemea’s eel-stitched sail hung empty above me. Shame burned through me. Perhaps my mother could have guided a ship in this state alone, but I was not my mother.
I was something darker and plagued, something worse.
Bending was agony, but I scooped up my tunic, Nemea’s crown and sword, and hobbled toward the edge of the ship.
Kill Eusia. Find Agatha. Keep Theo safe.
Keep Theo safe.
I clothed myself. I stared down blankly at the frothing water.
Keep him safe. Safe from me. For I had become his greatest threat.
Sea mist settled over me, and I set my plan. I would find Halla and take her with me. I would let her meet her beloved saint before she helped me end her. I’d bring Agatha to safety. The command I sent to the sea was crystalline: Guide me to Varya one last time.
I stepped off the edge of the ship, and the water swallowed me whole. It hauled me up and held me, so I floated on its surface like an old corpse.
In the cool, in the salt, my dream flashed to my mind.
The faceless woman, floating over the waves. No eyes. No hair. Adrift. While a dark, lurking presence combed through the depths below.
Starved.
Searching.
It finally found me.