Tris's Book

Broad hands gripped her shoulders. It felt as if the sun had just appeared behind her. I thought you'd never ask, he said.

Lark joined with Sandry; Rosethorn with Briar. Tris waited, until she realized that Niko would not unite with her uninvited. He has a cat's good manners, she thought. To the sense of him in her mind she said, Please?

He joined his magic to hers. Once again the four became one, their strength increased a dozen times by the arrival of their teachers. Forming a blade of magic, all eight plunged down, hacking at the threads that connected Enahar to the mages of the cove fleet. Singly, then in clumps, they gave. Next they slashed his bonds to the mages before Summersea. Those ties parted, cutting Enahar off: he was on his own. Immediately he threw up silvery shields, strong protections that would be hard to break.

Tris stretched out a hand. The lightning bolt that had stayed nearby while Enahar taunted her now settled into her grip. To it Sandry fed the power of the spindle that had made the four into one. Briar added the green strength of stickers and thorns. From Daja came the white blaze of the harbour chain.

Tris pointed to Enahar's shields. Strike, she whispered.

The bolt split the air, giving birth to thunder. The shields, and Enahar's ship, exploded.

Shadow fingers locked around Tris, dragging her from Niko's hold.

If you want me so badly, you may go with me! the dying mage snarled. He clutched her tight, hauling the girl into darkness.

Lark and Sandry opened their real eyes on Winding Circle's wall. "There's something that binds her to him," said Lark. "A cord of some kind -"

Sandry pried open Tris's clenched fingers and lifted away the string circle to reveal a gold hoop. "Aymery's earring," she whispered.

Niko, looking grey, had returned to his own body. So too had Briar, Rosethorn, Frostpine and Daja.

"I think I know what to do," said the Trader. She took the earring and placed it on the stone before her. A few sparks lingered still in Tris's hair; she collected those. Sandry gave them a spin, turning them into a small lightning-bolt.

Briar gripped it, and aimed it at the earring. "Strike," he, Daja and Sandry whispered.

The bolt lashed the earring, turning it to a blob of liquid metal.

Tris yanked clear of Enahar as he faded to nothing. She rose from the pit he had dragged her into, until she found herself drifting on the sea's magical currents. Going back this way might take a while. She was too weak to move higher and steal a ride on breeze-back, but the tide would bring her home.

Floating, she looked around, and found horror. Overhead patches of battlefire burned on the surface, setting the remains of wrecked ships on fire. Other ships were in motion, trying to move out into the open sea, away from Winding Circle. Bodies floated everywhere, tangled in debris, some of them in flames.

The dead drifted in dozens to the sea's floor, weighted down by chains. Some of them were in pieces; some were burned. Some had been alive when they entered the water, and their faces were masks of panic.

The galley slaves, she realized. They had no way to free themselves. How many of them had she killed? And how many were guilty of nothing but being unable to escape - or fight back - when pirates came to call?

Power - Lark's - found her drifting among the dead. Encircling her like a net, it brought her home.

She heard cheering, and opened her eyes. The other three children caught her as her knees wobbled, and she staggered. "What's the fuss about?" she asked through lips that felt swollen. Up here she could see the wreckage, survivors and bodies; they had begun to wash up on the beach. I can't take any more, she thought, and closed her eyes.

"Look!" Sandry eagerly pointed out to sea.

Raising her head, Tris looked.

It was the Emelan Navy, coming down the peninsula. They had gathered as promised. The surviving pirates from the cove fleet were doing their best to flee before the Duke's sailors had a chance at them.

"You'd better undo her waterspout," commented Briar. "It'll make the Duke mad if his ships are banged up."

With the Navy's arrival, the deaths of the queen and their chief mage, one fleet in pieces and their wizards either directionless or in active revolt, the pirates waited for nightfall and fled. Some went directly into the Navy's grasp; some got away. Duke Vedris promised his people that, as soon as was humanly possible, he would launch a force against the Battle Islands, to burn the pirates out. Everyone knew they would come back, as they had for centuries, but law-abiding folk would have a few years of peace before they did.

For two days the children did nothing but eat and sleep, except for Tris, who also looked after her bird. Even if she had been able to slumber deeply, which she was not, his shrilling would have roused her. Frostpine moved back to his room over his forge; Niko returned to his usual place. The women performed Discipline's chores for their charges.

On the third day, when she was up and around, Tris found Rosethorn minding her tomato plants. "I'm busy," the dedicate said crossly, tying a stem more firmly to its supporting stake.

Tris wasn't as frightened by this greeting as she would have been a week before. "I'd like to ask a favour, if I may."

Rosethorn tilted up her wide-brimmed hat in order to see Tris's face better. "The answer is no."

Tris half-smiled. "Niko says he'll be in meetings here or in Summersea for a week. I want to help at the infirmaries in the afternoons, until my lessons start again. They need people to fetch water and food and so on. The only way I can do it is if someone looks after Shriek."