I shook my arm free of his. “Then I’m going in his place. I couldn’t stand by and watch you die, and I won’t let the boy die, either.”

His eyes darted back and forth, searching mine. “You’d really risk everything for some servant boy? His life is worth nothing compared to yours.”

“My life is worth nothing if I ever believe that.”

He shook his head. “You’re a brave girl, I won’t deny that. But I need you alive. I’m sorry.” He turned away.

“I’m the one who planned it!” I yelled, loud enough that all the lords and ladies could hear. “I put the page up to it. I’m the one who should be punished.”

Ceren whirled back to me. “Stop it!” he snarled. “You saved my life. No one is going to believe you did this.”

“I had a change of heart,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “And now that I’ve admitted it in front of witnesses, you can’t hold the boy accountable.”

The other members of the court rushed forward. “I always knew she couldn’t be trusted,” one of them said.

“We should have an Ilarean queen,” a lord muttered.

“She must pay for what she’s done,” another said.

I could feel Melina’s eyes on me, but she kept her silence. Apparently she wasn’t willing to sacrifice herself for me, either.

Ceren stalked up to Talin, who hadn’t said a word through any of this, though his eyes flitted between his brother’s and mine. “Tell her to stop this, Talin.”

“What makes you think she’ll listen to me?” Talin hissed.

Ceren scowled. “Oh, please. I’m not a fool. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

I couldn’t bear to see Talin’s reaction, not after what had happened at the lake. I kept my eyes on the page, who was crying quietly. He was all that mattered now.

I heard Talin release a heavy breath, and then his hand was on my shoulder, drawing me aside. He leaned so close his lips almost brushed my ear. “You don’t have to do this,” he said. He swallowed thickly. “I know you want—”

“It’s not about what I want,” I said. “I can’t let that child die. I’m a strong swimmer. At least I have a chance.”

I could tell as our eyes met that he saw me—me—for who I really was: stubborn as a barnacle, maybe, but someone who fought for what she believed in.

For a moment, I thought he might insist on going himself. But he must have seen the resolve in my gaze, bcause instead of protesting, he nodded and drew a knife from the sheath at his waist. “Go for the eyes,” he said as he handed me the blade. “I’ll help in any way I can.”

His grip on my shoulder remained fierce, despite his words, and I let my hair fall forward, obscuring us as I brought my hand up to his, half expecting him to jerk away at the contact. But though he inhaled sharply against my ear, sending shivers down my spine, he made no attempt to move, and I knew he felt the same spark that I did.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been cold,” he murmured. “You did nothing to deserve it.”

“Thank you.” A moment later, I gently removed his hand, but kept my eyes locked on his. Ceren might suspect my attraction to his brother, but if I was about to die, I needed to make sure Talin knew it was more than that. “Your kindness has been like the break in a storm,” I said, understanding now what he’d meant in Varenia. Life here was dark and cold and unforgiving, but Talin had made it a little more bearable.

He held my arm for a moment longer, his jaw clenched tight. “I wish things were different—” he began, but I stopped him.

“So do I.”

He released me slowly, and I could see him wrestling with what to do. I shook my head a little, telling him silently not to dive in after me, no matter what happened.

The guards were waiting for orders from Ceren, but I climbed up beside them and took the boy from their hands. “Go now,” I whispered to the page. “Leave the castle and go home to your family before anyone realizes you’re missing.”

His eyes widened, but he nodded and scrambled off the rocks. I set down the knife and pulled off my gown to more gasps. My shift only fell to my knees, but I needed to move freely. I studied the lake for a moment, ignoring the murmurs of the crowd. The water would be cold, but at least I’d be able to see with the light from the glowworms. I’d need to stay away from the shadows. As I peered over the edge, the finned back of the creature sailed past again. It had to be twenty feet long, bigger than the great man-eating sharks that lived farther out to sea.

Ceren looked horrified, but Talin held him back. Fear coursed through my veins like it had the day of the incident, when I’d thought I might lose Zadie. But fear could be useful. It could be turned into strength. I grabbed the knife, nodded at Talin once, took the largest breath my lungs could hold, and jumped.

* * *

As the frigid water closed over my head, I opened my eyes to take in my surroundings. Here, the lake was about twenty feet deep. From what I’d seen of the beast, it looked more fish than lizard, but if it had created the tunnels down here, it had to be able to breathe on land as well as in the water. I kept my back pressed against the rock and the knife in front of me as I searched for the creature.

When I broke the surface several minutes later to take another breath, I felt something brush against my feet. “Look out,” Talin shouted, and I dived back down to see the creature’s white tail disappearing into a crevice on the other side of the lake.

The head appeared a moment later from another crevice. So that was Salandrin’s lair. My first impression of the beast was that it was similar to the giant cave salamander, with thick white flesh and short legs ending in clawed feet. But the head was longer and more tapered, like a moray eel, and when it opened its mouth, I saw dozens of razor-sharp, cone-shaped teeth. It swam past me, back into the shadows. I counted three sets of legs, though the hind legs were small, probably vestigial.

I’d also noticed that it had tiny red eyes, like the salamander. If I had to guess, the creature was blind.

But it knew I was here. It had sensed me when I went to the surface for air. It could likely feel the vibrations in the water. I moved away from the wall, just a few feet, and the creature came rushing out of the shadows, its mouth wide-open. The water around me began to surge forward, as though I was caught in a tide. Salandrin was sucking me into its maw.

I reached back for the rocks and grabbed hold, wedging my fingers as far into a crack as I could, but the force of the suction was incredibly strong. My head was inches from the surface and I was running out of air, but if I let go, I’d be sucked right in.