*trigger warnings: self-harm (ish), surgery on oneself, drowning, vomiting
"Broken people don't hide from their monsters. Broken people let themselves be eaten."
― Francesca Zappia
Lin staggered down the hall, cursing the blood trailing in her wake. People had flooded the showroom soon after Lin left, and even more of them gathered in the streets to gawk. Avoiding them took more energy than she could spare.
She clenched her jaw and pawed at the next door she came to. It took a few tries to get the knob to turn, her fingers tacky with blood.
She ducked inside without checking.
A closet. She closed the door behind her and yanked at the little chain dangling next to her face. A bare lightbulb showered her with yellow.
There was barely enough room for her to move. Shelves occupied most of the space with what looked like cleaning supplies. She shrugged and hiked her bad leg up onto one of the shelves, leaning against the other side.
The bullet in her leg leaned against a nerve, sending pain shooting up her body. She laughed under her breath, face twisted in pain.
The sigils weren't doing their job very well. The stab wound in her neck was still raised and aching. Her leg was half-healed and her head was killing her. She glowered at the silver marks sitting uselessly under her skin.
"Go on," she said.
They did nothing.
"Fuck you."
Again, nothing. They were still there, still working, they just didn't seem to realize she was injured.
She'd have to treat her own wounds, then. She knew how to do that. Lin squinted around the closet and grabbed at a bottle. She sniffed it and wrinkled her nose. Bleach. She put it back and grabbed another. Rubbing alcohol. Better.
She pulled out one of her cleaner knives and tore the hole in her trousers until she could see most of her thigh.
The bullet wound was puckered and red, irritated from her constant motion. The bullet twinged from its place deep in her leg. She blew out her cheeks and positioned her knife as carefully as she could.
Lin pushed it down.
The meat of her leg parted easily, and she stopped just before hitting her femoral artery. The bullet was close to it.
Under normal circumstances, she'd leave the bullet there. She had several slugs nestled in her body, but unless her sigils got their shit together, it was too risky to leave it close to an artery. She pulled the knife out and jammed her fingers inside.
She breathed hard, barely restraining a scream. Her sigils finally moved, but she pressed them back. It wouldn't be very helpful if she healed with her fingers stuck inside.
She worked her way through the torn flesh, blood trickling down her thigh and dripping on the floor. Finally, her fingers connected with metal. A shock of pain electrified her bones. Grinding her teeth together, she ripped out the offending item and grabbed the rubbing alcohol, dousing the open wound in it.
Lin jammed her knuckled into her mouth to hold back the scream. The bullet dug into her palm.
Her sigils worked their way into her, pulling the muscle and sinews back into place. She sucked in a breath as a bone fragment caught on a nerve.
She sank to the grimy floor, her entire body complaining. There wasn't enough room to stretch out her legs, so she just sat with her knees almost touching her chest, waiting for her body to put itself back together.
The pain receded slightly. Just enough that she could open her eyes without seeing stars. She swallowed bile and checked her neck again. Her skin was flat and smooth again, not even a scar left behind. It didn't usually take that long to heal.
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the shelves, slats digging into her back and neck. Blood covered her from head to toe, most of it belonging to other people. Her father's jacket was effectively ruined, but she was pretty sure Razo expected that. She picked up a towel from one of the shelves and scraped her blades. The blood had half-dried and turned to a sticky mess that smeared more than anything else. After a while, she gave up and shoved her knives into their sheaths.
"Come on, they're waiting," she whispered to herself.
Lin just wanted to sit in the closet forever. Just wanted to stay there until someone tried to drag her out so she could kill them, too.
Instead, she pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the darkness at the edge of her vision. She turned out the light and left.
A groan like thunder shook the walls. Windows rattled in their frames and the lights flickered.
Then, the floor tilted.
Lin cursed and grabbed at the doorframe to keep from sliding off her feet. The familiar sound of screaming, muffled by the walls, joined in the din.
Lin scrambled against the angle of the ground, climbing up without really knowing where she was going. Her sigils sang.
A witch was near.
A witch was causing this.
Magic, when Lin focused enough to see it, was wire-taut and imbued with purpose. She followed the current of it, her heart racing as it plunged below her feet.
The building rumbled around her, great crashes shaking the floor. The walls lanced with cracks. Paint flaked down over her. The tile floor swelled a few meters in front of Lin, stone breaking and lifting away as some insurmountable force ripped the island in two.
Lin's sigils screamed at her to move and she dove out of the way as the ceiling collapsed.
The roar of water assaulted her on all sides. Deadwater's deathly stench burned her nose. Lin gripped a shattered piece of wall as the ground tilted even more, threatening to send her falling down the hall. She jumped for the split in the floor, her fingers barely catching the ledge.
Magic burned her fingertips as she hauled her body over the edge.
Behind her, the entire tower had collapsed. The chunk of island it had stood on was slowly being devoured by frothing water.
Lin's breath came in gasps as she scrambled from one building to the next, wavering on unsteady footing. Torches sputtered out and people slid from their handholds into the unforgiving sea. Lin watched them splash into the water, twist as they tried to stay afloat, and vanish into the darkness not five seconds later.
She cursed as she ran. She didn't stop cursing. She cleared gaps between crumbling structures with ease, only to rush for the next as soon as she could.
All around her, the island was being consumed.
The rush of water overcame every other sound, its smell covering everything else. All of Lin's senses pushed her to escape.
There wasn't anywhere to go.
For some reason, she'd hoped that something would stay above the water. Maybe the rubble under the sea would pile up, or something on the foundation of the island would remain. No luck.
She stopped running when she crouched at the topmost corner of a skyscraper, the water bubbling beneath her.
Lin panted where she was. Her bloody fingers clenched at damaged concrete. The rest of the island was gone, replaced by deadwater. It shifted in tones of red and blue under the moonlight, white froth accenting the red.
Her heart sank down to her feet.
Hadrian. Razo.
Two of the only people she gave a shit about.
The water lapped at her boots. Spray stung her fingers. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to her knee. "Fuck," she whispered.
She didn't move as the building sank below the water, her skin burning as magic wormed at her only to be repelled by her sigils. She let go of the building and kicked at the water.
Lin gagged as water splashed into her mouth. Her limbs thrashed as she tried to keep herself afloat. Over and over, the waves covered her head, filling her mouth and boiling against her eyes. She pushed her face out and gulped in air before starting again.
Her hand scraped against something rough and solid.
She couldn't see it, but she grabbed hold of it with both hands. A rope. Lin hauled herself up using it and sputtered for air. She vomited water, her stomach clenching painfully and her throat burning.
The rope pulled her up out of the water, the magic falling away from her like barbed wire. The cold, smooth metal of a ship pushed up against her side. Her hands slid along it until the rope finally carried her high enough that she could grab the safety railing. Lin let go of the rope and dragged herself the rest of the way onto the flat surface of the deck.
Her body shook as she puked again, stomach acid burning her mouth. The watery vomit pooled on the deck, trickling back towards her.
"Linna? You alright, lass?"
Lin blinked the water out of her eyes and looked up.
Razo stood there, his face mostly covered with goggles and a mask, thick gloves on his hands. He dropped the rope and helped her to her feet, careful not to touch her more than he had to. She almost fell into the cargo hold.
He propped her up against a stack of crates and threw a big towel at her. It was stiff and discolored, but she wrapped herself in it anyway. Deadwater trickled from her hair onto the floor.
Razo took off his goggles and unzipped his jacket. A red bruise bloomed on the side of his face. Lin swallowed, shaky from vomiting. "What the fuck was that?"
Razo threw his hands up. "Why'd you always expect me to know?"
She frowned and pulled the towel tighter around herself. Her eyes darted to the door, half-expecting Hadrian to be standing there. Maybe he was in the cockpit.
"Could you get me some clothes?" Lin asked.
Razo nodded but didn't move. "First thing's, lass. Your cannon fodder Cortez beat the shit outta me."
Lin blinked. "What?"
He scowled. "There ain't much ambiguous about that. We sealed the doors, were on our way back to Sirenita and he beat the piss outta me. He was all ready for it too, had a drugged needle to put me out of commission."
"And Hadrian?" Her heart thudded in her ears. "Is he -- "
He threw his hands in the air again. "I don't bloody know. Last I saw, he was sittin' pretty as his mate whaled on me."
"He's not on the ship?" Lin asked, breathless. "You didn't save him?"
Razo's bushy brows went all the way up. "Really? That's what you wanna know?"
She growled and lunged at him, her hand grabbing his throat. He backed up into the wall, wincing as he hit it. "Don't."
"Don't bloody what?" Razo had his hands spread in surrender, but otherwise appeared wholly unimpressed with her display. "You've known the lad for what? A month? You've never given a half-shit about anyone like this before."
"He was my responsibility," Lin growled. He'd been her friend, too. She'd been so sure that he would have a happy ending. Him, working alongside Shabina to make the world a better place. Now, he was probably dead. She let go of Razo's throat. "Were there any -- any other boats that survived?"
Razo looked down at her for several minutes. "No. Not that I saw, anyhow. Whatever took down the island started on one of them."
She nodded. Her eyes burned. Her sigils were calm, the witch gone. Maybe she'd killed herself in the chaos. Probably not.
"He was working for someone, though," Razo said. "Cortez, I mean. I heard him and the lad."
"Who?"
"I don't bloody remember." Razo winced. "Arsehole kicked me in the head, I barely understood what was happening."
Lin nodded jerkily. She didn't trust her voice just yet. She turned away from him and started unbuttoning her jacket. It hit the ground with a soggy thud. Piece by piece, she removed her weapons and the network of straps holding them in place.
There were several possibilities. Cortez could have been working for one of the Kings. Or Greymark. Or, and Lin bristled at the thought, Shabina.
It was too indirect to be Greymark. Shabina wasn't cunning enough or cruel enough to plan it, but maybe one of her advisors could have. Lin wasn't familiar with Yelena's tactics, but the woman didn't seem to hate Lin enough for this. But Wilson? Wilson was the most likely candidate.
Hadrian was his son, after all. It made sense that he would keep tabs on him.
Either way, Lin knew what she had to do next.
--
"These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triump die, like fire and powder
Which, as they kiss, consume."
—William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet