Page 119 of Lore of the Tides

Had tried and failed.

Syrelle and Finndryl. Her heart had expanded to fit them both, beating like a drum song for them, and that was the only truth that she knew. In the war of head versus heart, her heart was victorious.

The moment she spread the binding ofAuroradel, power surged into her, eager and waiting. Wanting. She laid the book across her lap. It shuddered with untold power, vibrating between her clutched fingers.

Two weeks to Alytheria. Over a weektoo long. She would dock and find nothing but tragedy on those shores if it took her two weeks.

Lore spread her hands across the page and coaxed the power, letting it flow through her. When she’d begun practicing magic withLune, she hadn’t known what magic truly was. She’d thought she needed to follow spells, translate them, recite them perfectly, find just the right ingredients, weigh them, cut and burn and mash them, and add them to the spell exactly, like a recipe. Too much of something, and it wouldn’t work. The spell would be wrong, twisted.

But now, months later, she knew that the grimoires were simplySource, mobile ley lines, permanent swells of radiance, her own personal Mother Pearls, and Lore need only be the conduit of theirSourceto bend it to her will.

Lore pictured her people in her mind’s eye. Duskmere, nestled in a forest, surrounded by enemies. Enemies of their freedom, their bodies, their hopes and dreams. The king had never seen humans as people. They had been little more than animals to him. Worthy of less than his prized horses.

Now that he knew they could wield magic, he would wipe them off the face of the earth.

Lore closed her eyes and let the power of sunbeams alight over her. Light, heat, and magnanimousSourcefilled her from her toes to the coiled ends of her hair. She let it simmer within her.

She was magic, she need not be afraid.

She thought of this ship. A monstrous vessel designed for long-distance journeys, not speed. Intended simply to traverse the ocean, journeying from one place to another and then back again.

She focused on the wall to her left. This wall connected all the wood of the ship: the hull, the masts, and the sails, which even now caught the wind and harnessed it.

She followed it. She felt the ice-cold water around the bow of the ship.

Haste.

They needed swiftness.

She called for Hazen, whose very blood flowed with a song of the sea. He’d promised to use his own magic to urge the tide to carry them along, but it wouldn’t be enough.

Hazen poked his head through the adjoining door that connected his room with their own, his eyes curious. “What are you up to in here?”

“I need your awareness of the sea.”

Hazen didn’t hesitate. “How can I help?”

“I may need you to use your song on the captain. I’m about to take over control of the ship, and I don’t need them standing in my way.”

“I can’t use my song while in this form. Not unless I am submerged in water, at least partly.”

Damn it.

“Then use your sword. Tell Finndryl.”

“No need to tell me, I’m here,” Finn said as he slid the door farther open and peered in. Lore nodded, hoping that he knew how thankful she was that he was always there for her. When this was over, she would tell him. She would whisper it against his skin as she worshipped his body.

Lore grasped Hazen’s palm between her own two hands. “On second thought, how fast can you swim?”

Hazen’s only response was to grin.

Hazen was not just a siren, but a siren prince and the ocean his playground. He knew the sea; it was as much a part of him as the blood in his veins.

“All right, I’ll need you in the water. Stay close to the ship, you’ll know what to do in a moment.”

“You two do what you need to. I will take care of the captain.” Finndryl’s lips quirked up, and he clenched and unclenched his hands. He was itching to use his magic, Lore could tell.

She knew that feeling well.