Hundreds of years ago, Earth fell apart, leaving only the utmost privileged to start anew on the already-inhabited planet Selino. But internal conflict may drive this second world to crumble as well... unless eight teenagers can find the magical, my...
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All six moons shone in the Aris Ocean, frothy waves cutting through their rippling, tentative glow. Will watched their reflections studiously, eyes pressed down into the waves as the Altiu coastline disappeared on the horizon.
She was cold and wet and tired, and here they were starting a whole other journey.
The sea was foaming, frothing — furiously spitting seawater, drenching the little longboat and its inhabitants, drenching the whole damned world. In front of her, a snarling Cynth was steering, attempting to navigate through the frenzy; behind her, the rebel Damon was sitting silently, stiff and on-edge. The two had stopped their fighting once they had settled on the boat, leaving in its wake a suffocating, inescapable tension. It was horrible; Will was uncomfortable enough already.
Just that morning, she'd had in her fingertips the most powerful rock in the world. She'd had power, period, power more than she could ever have imagined. And then it had all changed again, so fast it nearly gave her whiplash.
Cybele had looked for her. Cybele had looked at her, for a second before she went. She'd thought about it.
And then she'd betrayed her.
Except not really, because she'd never actually been on her side.
From far away, an Almoons fireworks display went off: six exploding crescents, popping rapid-fire. The longboat spent a second bathed in violet, before returning to murky darkness — Will could sense Damon behind her, craning backwards to watch the dissipating sparks. Without missing a beat, gaze still facing forward, Cynth snapped, "Don't try it, hibri."
Damon turned back around, shooting Cynth a glare and nothing more. He seemed impervious to the barbed word, the simple descriptor she'd hurled like an insult. Hibri.
Will curled herself into as small a shape as she could manage, knees tucked into her chest. She could feel her heart pounding, reverberating through her whole body. How many nights had she startled awake, certain she could hear Cynth's voice say that word — accusing, disgusted? Sometimes Cybele was there too, laughing, or shrinking away. Usually Will woke up before Cynth pulled her gun. Once she didn't, and the dream ended in strange grey ash.
How, how didn't Cynth know yet? It didn't make any sense — Will was no spy, nothing more than a fatal mistake. Was she only holding on through Cynth's underestimation? Or could Cynth know, and for some reason have decided not to kill her just yet? Like with the rebel?
Maybe her plan right now was to toss them both to their deaths under the water, to quite literally cleanse herself before starting the search anew. In that case, Cynth was in for a rude awakening; despite how much she tried to deny it, Will had power in water, power in the salt her mother had grown up in.
Cynth had no clue. No fucking idea.
Will could hurt her. Will could swim under that damn ocean water and pull Cynth down with her, pull her from the roots of her stupid blue hair until she screamed. Will could shove the human's head under the water and wait for her to beg her for mercy. She could find a rock sharp enough, down there in the sea, and she could show Cynth what she was really made of. She could saw off her hair, right in front of her, and finally display the gills hidden underneath. Will was so tired of always worrying about them, making sure they were covered. She just wanted to run, out here in the middle of the ocean, to get away from Cynth and the constant, paralyzing terror. She was soaked and cold and bruised and angry, and still she was only the dumbass who could never achieve anything, the stupid fucking side character only ever played for laughs.
