Water and Wind

Chapter 24

Freya

In her mind, her hands ball up into a fist. In her mind, she can run. In her mind, she can get up and drag Nimue back, make her not leave them, make her not leave her. But she can't. This is reality, and reality is her magically trapped in bindings stronger than ever.

So she watches. But she hates all she sees.

She hates that Nimue is leaving, hates these people for making her do it, hates Arian for not stopping her. Tears come bursting out of her eyes in a torrent, and she knows that if Circe was here, she would frown and ask Freya what made her eyes so "blackout at midnight."

And what would Freya say? That her Nimue was leaving, was going on a suicide mission into the forest. And for what? This is the part where the lump in her throat swells. To save them, to save the rest of them. And give up herself.

Her older sister was brave, so very brave, and it makes Freya want to cry even more. She feels Nimue's warm hug around her shoulders, though that had been several minutes ago, and bit her lip. What had she whispered in her ear? Oh yes. Freya remembered now.

"Freya, listen to me." The ghost Nimue echoes in her head. "Arian... he-" Her voice had faltered there. She'd taken a wobbly breath. "He'll try to stop me. But Freya, you have power. You have to stop him, understand?" She'd stroked Freya's hair softly. "It could get dangerous if he succeeds, very dangerous, and then nothing I do will be worth it. Promise me, Freya. Promise me. You have great power. I need you to use it." Her blue eyes had searched her younger sister's. "Freya?"

She'd nodded mutely. What had she gotten herself into?

Nimue

Everything about this suicide mission screams that she should be scared. Terrified. And she is. But she doesn't show it. She needs them to believe her, to allow her, and shivering hard won't make that any easier. She jerks her spine straight and pins her shoulders back as she waits, squinting, chin tipped up to see the judge in his high box.

He bursts into a horrid laughter, like the sound of nails on a chalkboard, which gets higher until it reaches the pitch of a dying dolphin. He comes out of the box, walks down until he is right in front of her. She refuses to move. She will not give him the satisfaction.

"Little girl-" Oh, how she wants to punch him right now. But she musn't, and she knows it. Punching it has consequences not only for herself, but for everyone standing on the stage. To prevent it, she grabs her left fist with her right one and yanks both behind her back.

"Little girl," he sneers, and her grip on her fist tightens. He sobers a bit. "She had two children." He informs her, talking like she's an idiot. "And one was not 16."

"17 and a half," Nimue hisses under her breath, quiet enough so that he can't hear it.

"Hm?" He asks. As it turns out, he had heard it.

She dares to look into his eyes. "I know that."

"Then why should you go?" He taunts. Again, his tone sobers. It's like an up-down cycle that Nimue doesn't understand. His hands sweep out across the large crowd that is watching them with bated breath. His next words come out in a hiss. "100 years we've waited. 100 years she's taken from us. Do you know how many children we've lost? How many mothers weep themselves sick because of it? And here you are, throwing away the chance to help, not just them-" His arm sweeps again at the crowd. "But future generations as well?"

That's it. Nimue's fire is about to burst out of her. Desperately, she tries to stomp it down, suffocate it, anything, but it shoots out of her mouth in the form of yelling. "What future?" She screams. Her arms go to her own people, taking them in in half a sweep. "How many 'futures' have you cut from us? How many of our mothers wept themselves sick? How many wept themselves to death?" She yells. Now that her anger is out in the open, there's no point in taking it back. "How many of us have you sliced, hacked, hung, drowned, everything?! And you expect us to go on? You expect me to care for your woes when my family-" Here she cuts herself off, eyes welling up. "When my pa-" Her voice cracks. She is losing it.

The judge knows it as well. He cackles loudly. "Your parents! Your parents!" He laughs, facing the crowd. The crowd gives a nervous giggle, that being what they expect he wanted. Nervous, because they are afraid of Nimue's power, and what she could do to them - and rightly so. He continues to face the crowd like he is addressing them. "Her parents-" His thumb jerks at Nimue as he gives an uproarious bout of laughter that the crowd hesitantly echoes. "Her parents..." He pauses dramatically for suspense. "Didn't want her! Ain't that right? They didn't want her. Gave her away, didn't they? Never loved her, and for good reason. Dumped her with the rest of them devils." He laughs, referencing the crowd behind the pair that Nimue has come to call family. "They only took her in for the money, didn't they. Nobody never loved her." He turns back to Nimue, whose hands are shaking. "Ain't that right?"

"No. No." She whispers, hearing herself the wobbly, uncertain, unsteadiness in it.

He takes advantage of it, grinning hard. "You know."

She shakes her head mutely as tears start to spill down her cheeks. "No. No."