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When I pressed, Gaina swatted the back of my head.

“Get in and quit questioning that fate that has led us here. And you be certain you lot return to me in one piece, or I’ll send you to that pesky goddess myself.”

I took up an oar behind Adira. Gwyn and Asger took the others. For the first watch, Cy would guide us with Hakon.

“Before I forget, I made elf ears.” Gwyn handed each of us strange, pointed tips that hardly matched our varying skin tones. Hers were too light, Adira’s like slate. The way Gwyn frantically passed around the handmade tapered elven ears, the more I took noteof the shudder in her breath, the gloam of fear in her gaze, the less I allowed the others to groan and protest.

“We’ll wear them, Gwyn,” I said. “Can’t hurt, right?”

She gave me a tentative smile, sitting at her place behind her oar. “That’s what I thought. I could cast a masking spell, but why fatigue ourselves so soon, right?”

Cy gave me a dark glance, but when I returned it with ice, he rolled his eyes and tucked his clay elven tips into the pocket of his cloak and faced the sea.

We slipped into the dark waters under moonlight, warding spells locked around the longship hull, attempts to keep shore patrols or Kappi from spotting us and alerting Destin.

With each pull from the shores of Magiaria, I could not shake the feeling that when we returned—if we returned—our land would not be the same.

CHAPTER 40

Adira

Water lappedagainst the hull of the longship. My shoulders curved in tension. Ironic how uneasy I felt approaching the unfamiliar shore, as though Magiaria had at long last settled into my bones as my home, my familiar.

Overhead, a new moon gleamed in liquid gold, brighter than the rusted copper shade of ours, but mystical and lovely. Mage legends insisted the second moon was the same across the realms of magic, but each color was different since the goddess saw each realm for its uniqueness.

I wasn’t certain it was true, but I was biased and favored the copper shade of Magiera’s second moon.

“Dock there.” Kage gestured to the spine of a bay. I cut the oars deeper into the gentle tides.

No one spoke, it seemed we hardly breathed, until sand and pebbles beneath the surf scraped over the keel of the ship.

Hurried and wrought in the truth that we did not truly know what we’d face here, we tethered the longship and gathered our few belongings—mage onyxtippincoin, a few jade stones, and tonics we might be able to use for trade.

“All right.” Gwyn rustled through her fox fur satchel. “Time for the caps.”

Cy huffed. “You don’t really think this will fool anyone, right?”

Gwyn’s lip twitched. “Well, I’m sure I don’t know, Cyland. But I’d like to be as inconspicuous as possible. We don’t know if we’re walking into a setup. Who knows if Destin sent decrees against his traitor brother, or if these people side with him, or?—”

“Understood, my darling.” Cy silenced her by pressing two fingers against her lips. “I was simply bemoaning how they alter the entire look of my features. Which is a true shame, for these folk will not get the full, stunning first impression.”

“Your head is too big.” Gwyn rolled her eyes, but freed a soft chuckle when Cy hugged her against his side.

The man played the role of snobbish and blasé, but in truth, Cy knew what we all needed—a defender, a shoulder to shed tears, a laugh.

A bloom of affection filled my chest for the lot of these people who’d absorbed into my life. To have Kage was a dream I did not think possible, but to have them all—it was like I’d at last found the family I needed.

The town was not far from the shore, and when wooden docks and dirt paths blended to cobblestone streets, we tugged our hoods over our heads.

“Avoid needless talk,” Kage said. “We’re traders. Nothing more.”

My fingers slipped into his, and when our palms touched, my pulse slowed.

Here, the air was sweeter. Still edged in a bit of salt and sea mist like home, but there was something in the breeze, like an orchard of orange blossoms. Streets narrowed between angled tenements and wooden buildings. Laths were dark but speckled in golden lichens and moss from the endless sea spray. Candlelight flickered in bubbled glass windows, and strange nickers and grumbles of creatures unseen came from a row of stables.

Streets were filled with few people. Doubtless, most would be tucked away, sleeping, but the few we did see, I could hardly keep from gawking. Ears tapered to a point, some with piercings of gold and silver, others in simple clothes as they groaned and rubbed aching necks from the day’s work.

Memories were hazy, but the more I took in the more they solidified in my mind. Moments of visiting the markets in Myrkfell with my parents when they’d gone for charms and rare crystals, but I’d gone to peek at the strange traders—shifters and fae and elven.