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Wading through shallow waters, Marek approached the ship, reaching for a thick, weathered rope. He pulled it, revealing a small, retractable gangplank that extended fromTidechaser’sside.

Climbing aboard, I took in the ship’s polished wooden hull and its gleaming deep mahogany, reinforced with riveted steel accents along the bow and stern. The single mast carried a striking sail of midnight blue, emblazoned with the crest of Thalassaria: a swirling wave encircling a crescent moon.

“Do you need that?” I asked as we pushed off, pointing to the ship’s sail.

“No,” Marek said, placing his hands on the helm, fingers splayed against the wood. Something passed from him into the ship itself as the faintest hum beneath my feet made it feel as though the vessel had come alive.

The water around us began to churn,Tidechasergliding forward smoothly, the sail slack despite our steady movement.

“I can guide her with the currents,” Marek explained. “But the sail keeps up appearances. No one questions a ship traveling with the wind, especially near Estmere’s shores.”

I watched, fascinated, as the tide shifted beneath us, subtle swells forming to cradleTidechaserand propel her forward. “You’re not steering the ship,” I said. “You’re steering the sea.”

Marek smirked, his gaze fixed ahead. “You’re catching on.”

I’d seen remarkable feats during my lifetime. Land split open, the strength of a Gyorian unmatched. The whispers of those Aetherians who could manipulate sound waves to speak over long distances always amazed me. But having spent more time in Thalassaria on this mission than any other time in my short life, it was with them I felt the most kinship. It was their abilities that, to me, were the most awe-inspiring. The ability to control an ocean. What could be more powerful than that?

I glanced at Marek, at ease in his position, clearly enjoying every moment, this trip to the Deep Archives one he could likely do with his eyes closed.

He winked at me, a gesture of comradeship. Of acceptance.

What was more powerful than control of the tides? The bond between two people, whether it be friendship or something more. That was the true life force, one I’d been willing to forgo for the sake of duty to the Harrow legacy.

But that was before coming here. The thought of leaving this place? Leaving Nerys?

I closed my eyes, willing my mind to quiet…

Willing my heart to forget.

28

NERYS

“It isn’t necessary to stay here, dear,” Aneri said to Caelum. “She can defend herself, if it comes to that. Though I do not believe the queen would be so bold as that.”

I’d been about to climb up the stairs to bed. Taking a few steps back down, I waited for Caelum’s predictable answer. Marek had refused to leave us, and I knew Caelum would too.

“Although I agree, it is a fact word is spreading. That Nerys will challenge her is no longer a secret.”

Another fact. Yesterday, when I left for the cove to train, I was inundated with inquiries. Enough that I’d had to turn back, not willing to lead anyone to my private spot at the palace. Instead, I spoke with everyone who stopped me. And though I never confirmed it, neither did I deny my challenge, replying with things like, “I look forward to seeing you at the festival.” At times, Marek, who refused to leave my side, had to step in and use his gilded tongue to say everything, and nothing, all at once.

“In addition,” Caelum added, clearly reluctant, “I am not convinced that the queen hasn’t already begun to send warnings her way.”

I came down from the stairs completely. “What do you mean?”

Aneri and I both waited but Caelum simply frowned.

“Caelum?” I prompted.

He sighed. “There was an incident in the village yesterday,” he said, folding his arms. “A young woman—some claim bore a striking resemblance to you—was found near the square. She had been hit with a whip of water. Though she wasn’t grievously harmed, it did leave a mark on her arm. When she woke, she had no memory of what happened, but…”

“But what?” Aneri asked, her tone sharp.

“She didn’t see her attacker, only felt the whip and fell to her knees. A voice whispered, ‘Know your place,’ but she did not see where it came from.”

My hands clenched at my sides. “Why did no one tell me?”

“I can’t speak for Marek, but I didn’t want to cause you, or Aneri, any alarm.”