The Rose Society

We soar over Estenzia’s piers, and suddenly we’re out over the bay. The entire siege comes into view below us. A line of Beldish warships blockade the entrance of the bay, while others are engaged in battle against Kenettran ships—cannon fire looks like orange and white balls of light against the dark ocean. I can barely tell the sounds of their explosions from the roar of thunder overhead. Above them, baliras armored with silver plates glide through the air, their white-cloaked riders gleaming against the dark sky.

The tether hums, tugging at my chest. We are drawing very near to Enzo now. I can feel him turning his attention in my direction, too, sensing me in the same way that I sense him.

Even in the melee, I can see the Beldish queen riding on one of the baliras, her high braid in plain sight, her face protected behind a metal guard. She fires arrows one after another, taking down every Inquisitor rider in her path. Another rides with her—one of her brothers—no, Lucent. As I look on from a distance, Maeve leaps to her feet as an Inquisitor suddenly drops onto their balira, trying to throw them off course. Her sword flashes through the air. A spray of blood follows it, and the Inquisitor plummets from the balira’s back.

Then they veer away sharply, until they’re lost in the midst of riders.

“Adelina!” Magiano’s shout jolts me back. Gemma’s balira flies straight into our line of sight. We pull closer behind her. She glances over her shoulder at us—we are near enough that I can make out the familiar purple marking stretched across her face. Our eyes lock.

She recognizes me. And suddenly my power wavers.

Why am I hunting her down? She has always been kind to me, and perhaps she would be kind to me even now. A strange, wild hope grows in my chest—out of everyone, Gemma would accept me despite what I’ve done.

Gemma turns back around in her seat. For an instant, I think she’s going to slow her balira so that we can fly along side each other, so that she can talk to us. I open my mouth and start to tell Magiano to pull aside and give her room.

Then she turns back to face us—and a crossbow is in her hand. She lifts it and fires.

I’m too shocked to dodge.

“Move!” Magiano snaps at me. He shoves me hard, and the arrow sings past my neck. I fall flat against our balira’s back. My ears ring.

Gemma fires a second arrow, this time toward Magiano, but Magiano ducks low and pulls our balira sharply left. The arrow shoots past us and disappears into the darkness.

Magiano grits his teeth and urges our balira to speed up. “We need to work on your reflexes, my love!” he shouts.

My fear changes to bewilderment, then betrayal, then anger. White-hot, searing anger, burning the whispers in my head and forcing them out of their cages. They flitter around my mind like a cloud of furious bats until I can barely see. You would have gladly seen me dead, Gemma. A part of me tries to urge that, no, perhaps Gemma had only fired a warning shot, had purposely missed us—but the whispers in my mind shove this thought away. My teeth clench, and my fists tighten so hard against the reins that the rough ropes cut my palms.

How could you? I spared your life in that alleyway. Don’t you know?

I should have killed you.

I can hardly breathe. I don’t even care if what I’m thinking is fair. I should have killed her right there, it would have been so much easier. It would have sped up our goals. Why didn’t I? My power churns with my fury, and I push myself back upright on the balira’s back. I lean toward Magiano.

“Chase her up,” I shout. Perhaps it is a whisper in my voice that shouts, because in this instant, I no longer have a voice of my own.

Magiano pushes against the balira’s back. The creature lets out a haunting cry that shudders through our bodies. Then it dives. It dives so sharply that I have to steady myself against the saddle so that I don’t slide off completely. Almost immediately, Magiano pulls it back up, and the balira jerks its head up toward where Gemma flies.

She senses us. Suddenly our balira shudders off course—she is trying to manipulate our ride’s mind. Magiano grits his teeth. He pushes back. Our balira steadies. Magiano pulls it until its head is turned back up, and then he whispers something to it.

Gemma sees what we’re about to do, because she pulls hers up too. We charge forward, hurtling higher, leaving the warring bay below us. Rain flies in my face and I feel that old panic again, the fear of not being able to see, and I hastily wipe the water away. Gemma’s balira swings its tail in an arc. Its needle-like endpoint swipes at us, threatening to cut us—Magiano pulls us away at the last second. He forces us to move slower, out of the tail’s reach.

I grit my teeth and reach out with my energy. The threads shoot toward her, wrap around her like a cocoon, and then, as I concentrate, tighten. I feel her shrink away, her terror jump. From her point of view, it seems as if the world had suddenly rushed up to her, the sky become the sea, and she is upside-down, hurtling into the ocean and submerged in water. She can’t breathe. From where we are, I see her hunch over in her saddle in panic. Her balira veers sharply off course as she tries to turn them around in their illusion of an ocean.

I grit my teeth and tie my strings tighter and tighter around her. Gemma twitches violently again as she feels like her lungs are filling with water. She’s drowning, and she claws at the air, trying to swim.

“Adelina.” Magiano’s voice cuts through my concentration like a knife. My illusion wavers, and for a moment, Gemma can see. “We have to pull back!” he shouts. “We’re too close to the storm!”