For the second time since arriving in Thassos, Sky shoves me behind his back as a group of guards advance on us with weapons drawn. Something tells me that, this time, no simple explanation will suffice; this time we're in real trouble.

Sky raises his hands. "Natalis. This isn't—"

"Silence, traitor," she snaps. "You will not speak."

The power in her voice is like a physical thing, tightening around my throat and making it difficult to breathe. Sky shuts his mouth as if clipped beneath the chin, and sinks to his knees as the guards secure his hands behind his back. Apparently perceived as a minor threat at best, a single guard takes hold of my upper arm.

"So, this was your plan, was it?" Natalis asks as she stands before Sky, forcing him to look up at her. "You knew that breaking the curse would result in mother's death, so you snuck in here like a common assassin to do the deed in secret. Father suspected you were up to no good, but I never imagined you capable of this."

Almost imperceptibly, Sky shakes his head, but if his silent denial has any effect on Natalis, she doesn't let it show.

"Well, I hope you're happy, Scyllian, my king. Though I suspect your reign will be a short one. Take them to the dungeons," she says to the guards. "Separate cells. I must confer with General Vargas. Meanwhile, seal this room, and spread the word that Thassos is in mourning for its queen."

The guards haul Sky to his feet, and together we're marched from the room and paraded through the grand hall and out into the open courtyard. From there, we take a sharp turn down a side path towards a crumbling stone tower. On my first trip through the courtyard, I'd been so overwhelmed by the beauty of the impossible bubble dome that I hadn't noticed it, and it looks so much like the decorative castles people put in fishbowls that I almost laugh.

A guard unlocks a heavy wooden door, the beams of which look like they were salvaged from the hull of an old sunken ship, and lead us through into a dark, dank space illuminated by a sickly blue-green glow. Slimy stone steps disappear through an opening in the floor, and as we're forced to descend them, another laugh threatens to escape me.

Of course the place has a dungeon, I think. What underwater palace would be complete without one?

The air grows colder the further we descend, and somewhere along the way I unconsciously start to count the steps in my head. By the time we reach the bottom, I've counted eighty-nine, and since I didn't start counting until we were some ways down, I'd guess there might be twice that many.

From there, we're led down a narrow stone corridor lined with cells. Some sort of encrustation covers the bars, in some places so thickly it forms almost a solid wall. The cells themselves are small and bare, but empty of occupants, which I choose to take as a good sign.

Near the end of the corridor, the guards unlock two opposing cells — one on each side — and shove Sky into one and me into the other before slamming the doors shut and marching back the way we came. I don't envy them the climb up those stairs.

As their footsteps fade, I catch my breath a little. Everything happened so quickly, I haven't begun to process it, but now reality is catching up to me. Our entire purpose for coming here is undone, and everything we were hoping to avoid just happened.

In the cell across from me, Sky remains on his knees where the guards left him, his hands still bound.

I peer at him through the largest gap in the growth-encrusted bars of my cell door, but his face is in shadow, and while I'm grateful for the unwholesome blue glow that keeps the pitch dark at bay, it's hardly enough to see by.

"Sky? Are you okay?"

I speak softly, but my voice sets off echoes nonetheless, which flutter like moth wings or the whispers of the dead, sending shivers up my spine. Another shiver follows it, this time born of cold, and I reassess my optimistic outlook. rather than a forgiving system, the reason all the cells are empty is likely because no one left down here would last very long. It's not literally freezing, but the damp cold sinks through my skin and steals the warmth from my body with every breath.

When Sky doesn't answer, I risk speech again.

"Sky? Talk to me, please. What the hell just happened?"

Finally, he speaks in a low murmur I can barely hear.

"What did you see?" he asks.

"What do you mean?"

"Just tell me what you saw."

I frown, confused. Perhaps he's in shock and needs confirmation that this is really happening.

"You put the amulet around your mother's neck, and... and her statue turned to dust," I say gently.

"Repeat that last part for me," he whispers.

I clear my throat. "Your mother's statue... turned to dust."

"My mother's statue..." He bows his head.

"I'm sorry, Sky. I know you—"

I fall silent as noises at the far end of the passage claim my attention and footsteps approach. A moment later, Natalis comes into view and stands between us, facing Sky.

She watches him in silence, and at last he speaks first.

"Where is Mother?"

My heart sinks as it occurs to me that he might be suffering a mental break, but to my surprise, Natalis laughs.

"You're cleverer than I've given you credit for," she says, "and yet not quite clever enough, it seems. Mother is somewhere safe, along with the real throne, never fear."

"And Father?"

Natalis laughs again. "Figured that out as well, have you?"

Thoroughly confused, I dare to draw attention to myself. "Sky? What is she talking about?"

Natalis casts me a glance over her shoulder. Her physique reminds me of Freya, as does her tumble of dark curls, but unlike my sister there is nothing playful about Natalis — at least not in the look she gives me.

"Explain it to him, Scyllian," she says. "Show me that you truly understand."

Sky draws a long, deep breath before he speaks.

"That wasn't my Mother," he says slowly. "It was a replica. But only Natalis knows that. As far as everyone else is concerned, it was the real thing. And Father..." He finally raises his head and meets his sister's eyes. "You never saved him, did you? That's why he never joined us on holiday, or so much as made himself known before now. He's been dead all along, hasn't he?"

"Of course he has," Natalis says, sounding rather pleased with herself. "He was sent to the deeps. There's no coming back from that. If you'd been less distracted by your own selfish concerns, you'd have realized that sooner, no doubt."

Sky shakes his head. "Who's been playing the part, then?"

"No one. When my emissaries retrieved his amulet from the deeps, I had them bring back what was left of him, as well. What you've seen and spoken with is... a simulacrum. A puppet."

"Necromancy?" Sky lifts his brows. "You've inherited some interesting gifts, sister. What about Anemone? She's under your influence as well?"

Natalis scoffs. "Hardly. She's far too powerful."

"The most powerful beast may be forced to obey out of fear," Sky says. "What hold do you have on her? I know she would not help you willingly."

"You know nothing." Natalis sneers. "You've seen her once a year, at most, for a handful of days at a time. I practically raised her. I'm the only parents she's known, and she'll do as I ask, because she knows what happens if she fails."

Sky falls silent for a moment, and Natalis says nothing, seemingly content to wait for him to speak.

Finally, he clears his throat.

"It seems I am not so clever, after all," he says, "for I don't understand. Those storm petrels I kept seeing — those are your spies, I take it?"

"They are." Natalis nods.

"So, you knew I'd found my heart's mate. And yet I didn't know that I would die if I failed to embrace the sea by the next spring tide. If you wanted the throne, then why enlighten me? Why not simply let time run out, and become the heir, and then destroy the statue yourself? Or, after we spoke, why not allow me to awaken mother? I've no desire to rule, and I'm sure after all that's happened, she would not object to you holding on to the real power while she acted as a figurehead until we found a way to end this 'inheritance by death' rule."

"Because I don't want the throne," Natalis says. "I want to rule as I have, unhindered by that ancient nonsense. And because that bit about you dying was a lie. I made that up to get you here as quickly as possible. I needed that amulet, and only you could bring it to me."

"What about father's half?"

Natalis waves her hand impatiently. "It was unbound; the magic severed with Father's death. I needed you to bind it to your lover first, then return it to me whole. As for awakening mother... You haven't quite gotten it yet, I see."

"Gotten what?"

She smirks. "You've been carrying the guilt of Father's death for decades. Imagine how you'd feel if you knew he'd been innocent?"

The color drains from Sky's already pale face, the bluish glow of the coral giving him a ghastly hue. "It was you," he says. "Even back then... it was you. Father had nothing to do with it."

Natalis nods. "Right before she cursed herself and banished you, Mother understood the truth. You can imagine how displeased with me she'd be."

"She executed the man she loved for nothing," Sky breathes. "And what now? What is it you want Natalis?"

She shrugs. "As I said — I want to rule, but I don't want the throne. This way, mother can remain as a statue, sustaining the protections guarding Thassos in perpetuity, while I continue to lead our people in her stead. As for you... Well, traitor that you are, you'll endure the same fate as father — and you'll accept your sentence humbly, because if you don't, this one will join you in the deep."

She nods at me.

"If, however, you cooperate, I'll return him to his people — with a clean set of memories, of course. It just didn't work out between you two, did it?"

Sky meets my eyes, but I read nothing  but despair in his.

"No, I suppose it didn't," he says.

"Good. Your trial will be held at dawn. In the meantime, I suggest you enjoy one another's company while you can."

She turns and departs, leaving us alone in the cold, the silence, and the dark, with a fate as heavy as the ocean above our heads to contemplate.