Agatine (Terres book II)

Chapter Twenty Five

Wren kept her hands on the rough stone of the spiral staircase, feeling for the door in the dark. She'd gotten to know the bumps in the stone where her hands fit, and the spot where the door would swing open if she pushed. The light outside angled across the roof, nearly blinding her. It was getting to be that time of year where it took forever to go down, and the nightly respites from the heat were getting less and less.

Phina stood, framed by the light, back rested against the supports for the water tower. She turned her head and smiled at Wren as she approached, latching the door behind her. Wren's heart leapt into her stomach. She said nothing and crouched down on the ledge before sticking her feet off the edge. The height still made her woozy. 

Phina let go of the support tower, strode over to her, and sat down with little effort, just like she always did. "You came back," she said.

Wren nodded. She did not say anything. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and her shoulders felt tense and hot. Phina fluttered her wings.

"I didn't think you would be so scared. It was meant as a joke, but I can see it wasn't funny."

"It wasn't," Wren said. She could hear Phina's breathing next to her, she was so close. She wondered if this was just another trick. If next time, she'd pin her and the blade would be real. If Wren would scarcely blink before her throat was cut, just like her mother's.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you really sorry?" Wren asked. "Or are you just telling me that so you can do it again?"

"I really am," Phina said. "I have pulled that trick on just about everyone in here, and none of them panicked and ran off. Most people think it's funny. What happened to you?"

Wren narrowed her eyes and tried not to think of the last time someone had forced her to defend herself. She didn't want to think about his glazed over eyes or the warmth of his blood on her hands or the look of pity Ittra had given her when she found her curled in the wagon, crying and covered in bruises.

"It's a bad memory," she said. Phina nodded and stood up, then held her hand out to her. Wren gave her a questioning look, then took it and tried not to scream as Phina heaved her to her feet and the edge of the ledge got precariously close.

"Relax," Phina said. She held onto Wren's arm and pushed her a little closer to the edge. Wren let out a small whimper and clung to her. The ground swayed back and forth, like it was drawing in toward her, then pulling away again. It made Wren feel sick. She took a big jump away from it and half-jogged to the part of the roof that was by the door.

"We need to teach you to escape. And how to defend yourself." She leaned against the doorway and eyed Wren in a way that made her feel like an ant. "No one can hurt you if you can make them stop. Do you think it was an accident when that man left? He was afraid of me."

Wren folded her arms and didn't look at her. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I keep...I keep wanting to. I want to hurt the people that hurt me, and hurt my friends. I have dreams about it--"

"--So?" Phina said. Her shoulders were soft, but her eyes were hard as steel. her mouth turned up in a smirk. "Do you know how many people I've hurt? How many peoples' lives I've taken away? You--"

"--Get used to it," Wren said. "You've told me." 

"You need to make a decision, Wren. Do you want people to hurt you? Or do you want to keep that from happening?"

Wren wondered if Phina ever felt bad, or if she wore the same sarcastic smile for everyone. How long it took her to slip into her skin, where nothing bothered her and no one could get to her. Wren wanted to be able to pick at her until she snapped, to aggravate her like she aggravated Wren. But she knew Phina was right, that there were only two options. And she knew which one she wanted.

"I don't want to watch my friends get hurt," she said. 

Phina gave her an appraising nod and slipped something out of her pocket. The metal of it glinted in the sun. She took a step toward Wren, grabbed her arm, and pressed the dagger at her throat. She wrapped her other arm around Wren's shoulders and pinned her to her chest.

"I thought you said you wouldn't do this again." Wren sensed that this steel was sharp. It would cut her if she was not careful. She froze in place and watched the dagger out of the corner of her eye.

"Take my arm, near the wrist, and slip the dagger out of your pocket," Phina said. The air rushed out of Wren's lungs. She willed her arms to move, but they stayed in place, pinned there by fear and by Phina's wrist digging painfully into the fragile bone of her wings.

"I can't." Wren's heart beat in her chest like a hummingbird's wing. Phina pushed the dull edge of the dagger into her throat a little harder. The steel pressed into her jaw and made her swallow.

"You can," Phina said.

"I'm scared." Wren's voice broke. She felt for the dagger in her pocket. The cool metal contacted her fingers, but she couldn't will her hand to grab it. Phina gave her a small shove.

"Take the dagger. I am not going to cut you."

I don't trust you. The words echoed around Wren's head, but they didn't come out of her mouth. She grabbed Phina's wrist, careful, ever so careful, not to push the metal of the knife into her own throat. She fought herself for breath. The air itself made her dizzy and the light shining down on her almost blinded her. Wren grabbed the dagger by the handle and grabbed Phina's wrist with her other hand.

"Dig your thumb into my wrist below my thumb," Phina said. Wren felt for the bony protrusion where the appendage joined the rest of her hand. Her nail dug into the soft flesh of Phina's wrist. Phina let out a hiss. Her fingers relaxed around the dagger and Wren took it without thinking. 

"No, no," Phina said, and her hands clamped around it again and pressed it back into Wren's throat. She let out a soft whimper. Phina laughed. "Relax. Do it again. Don't take the dagger. Not so hard this time, either. That hurt."

Wren did as she asked without questioning it this time. She felt Phina's fingers release. Phina nodded and drew her hand back. "Take my arm around the elbow and twist."

Wren grabbed Phina's wrist and pressed her thumb between the place where the muscles joined. Her eyes widened as Phina's body followed the pressure and she uncurled from around her and bent double. Wren stopped thinking. She could hear only the sound of her own breathing. Her fingers twitched and without thinking, she pressed her knife below Phina's ear, just barely angled enough that it would not cut her.

Phina laughed and grabbed Wren's wrist. She pressed her own fingers into the space below Wren's thumb, and Wren felt the dagger release. Wren's heart rate slowed instantly. She hoped the fear in her eyes wasn't evident as Phina handed the dagger back to her.

"You're stronger than you think you are," Phina said. She tucked her own dagger back into her skirt. Wren eyed her warily, as if she expected her to jump like a wildcat and pin the knife below her throat again at any moment. She was a poisonous plant, harmless and beautiful and deadly and terrifying in a way Wren couldn't even name.

"What do we do now?" she asked, voice as small as a whisper of wind.

"We do it again," Phina said, and she lunged for her wrist.