His raptor soared as Nazrin closed his hands around Essa’s. This small gift, this gesture of his fealty he would bestow her. He pressed their hands to her throat and fastened the amulet.
Her eyes flashed open, tears pooling in those malachite depths. “Tha—”
He cut off her gratitude with a firm press of lips against hers. “You are all I want, Sirena.” She shuddered in his arms. He brushed her tears away with his thumb. “Let’s return to Halcyon.” He ignored the lead weight inside his chest. Back to Halcyon, but for how long?
She sniffled and nodded.
“You shouldn’t have kissed him.”
Essa cast him a frown.
“The cyclops,” he explained. “You’ve ruined the reputation of my men. Now, all of our enemies will anticipate being treated likewise.” Winking, he held out his hand once more.
Essa smiled as she accepted it.
Accepted him.
***
They rode hard on the road to Halcyon. Night had fallen by the time they arrived at the encampment. As they steered their horses toward the stables, Gaven jerked his horse to an abrupt halt. A strangled noise tore from his throat. Nazrin’s own throat constricted as he connected with his brother’s mind.
Their thoughts merged. Nay.
Gaven flew off his horse and launched himself in the direction of his cabin.
Nazrin barked orders at his men to provide for the horses and at Essa to head to his cabin. He took wing to follow his brother toward the anguish that awaited them.
***
Essa paced the floor of Nazrin’s cabin. A pounding at the door broke her cascading fountain of fears. Heavy rain drenched the hooded figure in the entryway. She took a step back, regretting opening the door to a stranger.
“Essa.” The voice was full of despair. Aedre. She lowered her hood and her red-rimmed eyes appeared hollow in her pale face.
No. She stumbled backward at the shock. Has Amaya passed? Denial pulsed in her veins.
The maiden wrapped her arms around Essa to prevent her from falling, but it was the mother who required Essa’s support.
“Amaya.” Her voice broke in a sob. “She’s… We’re losing her.”
Images of the laughing child crashed through her mind. Why was Aedre here, when her daughter lay dying?
“When I mated Gaven, I relinquished my sea enchantress powers. Now, I can heal others, but not my own child. None of my spells have worked. They aren’t strong enough.” She shuddered in Essa’s arms. “Can you save her?” The plea was barely a whisper on Aedre’s lips.
She angled her face away from the desperate woman. Could she save the girl? If only she were the Pythia… True, she didn’t possess the gift of healing from Apollo yet, but combined with her powers, and those of the amulet, she might save the child.
Nazrin had told her he sought the amulet to heal someone he cared for. It had to be Amaya.
She scoured the deep recesses of her mind. The image Nazrin had shown her of her mother singing eclipsed the others. The lullaby. No, it wasn’t a lullaby. A Pythian enchantment.
“Yes.” The conviction spread into every fiber of her being. “Yes, I can.”
They hastened toward Aedre’s home. With each step, her confidence grew. Essa determined what to do and how to do it. She would save Amaya. Everything in her claimed it as truth.
At the cabin, she followed her friend through the door. A fire in the hearth cast a warm glow across the room. Toys were piled in one corner and a blanket was strewn across the sofa. It looks like home.
Gaven and Nazrin stood by the fire. Gaven’s despair mirrored his wife’s. Yet Essa hadn’t anticipated the redness in Nazrin’s eyes, or the tears threatening to escape their depths.
At her approach, Nazrin’s features hardened, and a firm, “Nay” resounded upon his lips.
She faced him and repeated the argument she’d been preparing for this moment. “I can save her. Aedre knows it.” She glanced at Gaven and witnessed the relief easing his shoulders. “Gaven knows it.” Essa regarded Nazrin. “As do you. You’ve tried everything. Now, it’s my turn. This is why you sought the amulet, right? Let me use it.” She glanced at Gaven once more. “Fetch Kyme, Melita, and Cassie. We’ll need their energy if we’re to save your daughter.”
“There’s too much risk,” Nazrin countered.
“It’s mine to take.” Trust me, she mouthed as she strolled past him.
Aedre led her to Amaya’s room and soon, the other women filed inside. From the stomping of boots outside, their mates waited with the two brothers. “Your powers weren’t sufficient, Aedre, for what ails your daughter, but together, we might be strong enough.”
Amaya lay still, so fragile and incredibly small on the bed. Aedre kissed her forehead. Gripping Essa’s hand, she murmured, “I trust you, Essa. Save my daughter.” Her plea the sole weapon she had left.
The women formed a circle around the child, their hands glowing with the illumination from their powers, awaiting her command. Essa perched beside the girl, drew aside the covers, and examined her body. She wasn’t sure what she was searching for, but the blue flames in her mind flicked across the child’s skin and she surrendered to the power inside her.
Surveying Amaya’s body, she dug deeper, as she had with the flowers. There must be a reason why the two cells can’t mesh. Something is missing or something’s within that shouldn’t be.
Doubt’s inky tendrils slid over her conviction. She rubbed the amulet between her fingers and begged for its power to bolster her own. Show me, please. Help me, Mother. Time was running out for the little girl. From her shallow breaths and ghostly pallor, she wouldn’t see the sun rise.
Haltingly, Essa began to hum the lullaby her mother had sung to her in the womb. One by one, the words slipped into her mind like cool, healing waters.
Then her fingers brushed across something so innocuous no one imagined it to be the reason Amaya was dying. The reason the offspring of Wind and Water Borne always died.
“Aedre,” she gasped. Pointing to the mole on the inside of the girl’s left arm, she asked, “Do you have a mark like this anywhere on your body?”
“No, none.”
“What about Gaven?”
Aedre shook her head, her eyes widening at what Essa implied. Their kind didn’t have any moles. Their flawless skin bore no blemishes. The child should be the same. This abnormality was the key to saving the girl. A tiny black dot, no larger than the tip of an eyelash, was the only mar to this girl’s creamy complexion. As she peered closer, she perceived a fine line beneath the girl’s skin, leading toward her heart.
Her blood pulsed in her veins, racing against time itself. She grasped the amulet with her left hand while her right fingertips traced the marking. It was like a toxin. One that seeped outward from her heart. She had to remove it from the child’s body, so her cells would merge, unobstructed.
Like an arrow that has pierced skin, it wouldn’t be enough to extract the shaft of the toxin. Essa would also have to sew the pieces together. This was why the child was dying. The blackness pooled into the mole, tearing her apart as it did so.
“Join me.” She waved for the women to place their glowing hands upon her shoulders. Just as she extracted water from the air, so she absorbed their strength. Gritting her teeth, she flamed her powers and began the process, desperate her efforts would be fast enough. Hours passed as she worked with her head bent over the girl, the other women’s powers funneling into hers. All the while, she chanted her mother’s enchantment under her breath. She wasn’t sure if it was necessary, but she assumed it wouldn’t hurt.
At long last, Essa surfaced and released her hold on the other powers. Amaya’s slumbering face was peaceful and a healthy flush colored her cheeks.
We did it. She sighed. The mark was gone, leaving no trace of the contaminant. She kissed the child’s rosy cheek and wobbled to the door. As she opened it and stumbled through, Gaven flew past her.
Dizziness overwhelmed her and the image of Nazrin blurred in and out of her vision. He plucked her into his arms and studied her face. She offered a weak smile. “Amaya will be fine.” She leaned her head against his chest, too exhausted to pretend she didn’t want to be there.
***
Nazrin exhaled a night’s worth of anxiety, rolling the tension from his shoulders. Both his niece and his mate were well. He carried Essa to his cabin, clutching her to him with the force of his unstated fears.
She’d risked her life for Amaya. Why?
More importantly, why had he permitted her?
Searching for the answer, he found it close to the surface of his heart. She was strong enough. The powers Hades and Persephone craved to exploit, Essa had at last learned to control. She’d determined how to merge the others’ powers with her own—a feat none had managed thus far.
Her training was complete.
Even more, so was the prophecy.
This night, Essa had cleaved Halcyon.