Page 30 of Lore of the Tides

The children were a blur of curls and rosy cheeks as they raced into Syrelle’s arms; he bent to their level and picked them both up to give them a fierce hug. Lore’s mind was reeling from the sight before her. Syrelle had a niece and nephew? There was no way she could’ve predicted that this would be on her list of things to witness today.

“What have you brought for us?”

“Hush, Iither! It’s impolite to ask him that before we’ve even asked him how he is!” the girl admonished her brother, who only shushed her in reply.

“I’m doing just fine, thank you, Inesca; it’s good to see that someone remembers her manners.” Syrelle grinned. “Though Iither knows I’ve never visited without bringingsomething.” He placed the children down and patted the pockets on his coat.

Syrelle gave an exaggerated frown as he continued to pat every pocket on his person. “Oh no, it seems I forgot them.”

Inesca shrieked a giggle and abandoned any manners she possessed in her small body and dug into his coat pockets herself, giving a joyful shout when she pulled out two small packages wrapped with familiar paper and tied with a bow.

“I knew you wouldn’t forget to bring us something, Uncle Syrelle!”

She handed one to her brother, who promptly ripped into his package. Inesca unwrapped hers with more care, carefully folding the paper and bow and slipping them into the bag hanging from her shoulder before examining her gift.

Just as Lore had this morning.

Their gifts were the same. One didn’t have to be a parent to know that twins needed two of any gifts, lest one covet the other’s more than their own. The twins proudly held up a...

“What is this, Uncle?” asked Inesca, his chubby fingers turning the object over and over in his hands.

Lore was glad he asked, because she wanted to know too.

“They’re a new invention, straight from the university in Viba. Adventurers use compasses to establish which direction they face.”

“Why not just use the stars?” the girl, Inesca, asked, her eyes wide as she turned the compass over and over in small, chubby fingers.

Of course, a child raised on the sea would be so familiar with the stars that navigating by them would seem effortless.

“Because ’Nes, this device is much more accurate than having the stars guide you. Soon every ship in the world will have at least one of these on them, I guarantee it.”

Syrelle plucked the metal item from Inesca’s hands.

He turned it round until he located a latch. He pressed it, and the lid sprang open on tiny hinges, revealing an intricate map painted beneath the glass. “But your finder is special because notonly does it have a pointer to reveal one’s direction...” He turned it, and the black needle turned with him, pointing to theSon the bottom of the map. A red needle stayed pointing in the same direction despite his rotation of the device. “Your compasses were intended to be two halves of a whole. They will lead to the other. Your compasses will always point the way to their twin.”

“Wonderful,” Inesca and Iither said in unison. Inesca grabbed her compass back and turned it around as Iither wrestled with the latch on his.

“Is your mom home?”

“Yes, she should be!”

“Thank you, Uncle Syrelle!” both children exclaimed, giving him a quick hug before running back to their friends, waving their gifts high.

“You have a nephew and niece?”

“Technically, they’re my cousins. Their mom is my aunt, my mother’s sister.”

His aunt, it seemed, didn’t live far from where the children were playing.

It was a small, single-story house that floated on the water and was tied between two docks. It was in no better shape than any of the others around it. This one appeared to once have been painted a lovely shade, but had since faded to an unappealing chartreuse. One of its shutters hung at an angle, held up by a lonely, crooked nail, the other was missing entirely, no doubt blown off by a storm long ago. The roof had green and red algae concealing its shingles, and a seabird had made the roof its home. Its piercing cry was mournful; the sound plucked the strings of Lore’s own sorrow.

Lore had never seen a house that was also a boat before. She didn’t even know one could build a house on the water.

Syrelle’s knock on the door was answered immediately by a female wearing trousers and a billowing, tucked-in shirt. Her cheekswere flushed, her skin was a beautiful shade of brown, and her hair, which was cut short, encircled her head like a crown. Her feet were bare, and she had smudges of yellow, blue, and shades of purple smeared on her pants, cheek, and fingertips.

The smile on her face from ear to ear and her genuine warmth were almost as startling as the antlers sprouting from her head.

His aunt had antlers. His cousins had antlers. Something wasn’t adding up here.