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He dumped their luggage onto one of the thin mattresses, then gathered her into his arms. His lips met hers, warm and tasting mildly of sea salt, and his breath warm on her cheeks.

Leaning into him, she draped her arms over his shoulders and buried her fingers into his tousled hair, the concern of meddling, dangerous sea deities shunted to the corners of her mind.

The ship bounced over jolting waves, sending them stumbling on to the opposite berth. Her head thumped the wall as he crashed on top of her.

“Ow.” She rubbed her throbbing scalp.

“Sorry.” He scooted off her, then inspected the back of her head where she stroked. “There’s no blood. You’ll be okay.”

With their moment of intimacy lost, her thoughts returned to their close capture. “How long do you think we’ll have before Filip finds us again?”

He shrugged. “A month, maybe more. He’ll need to track us to the harbour, find out which ship we boarded, secure his own passage across the sea, then locate us on one of the many islands in the Hastehill Isles.”

“I might as well make myself useful, then.” She rose.

“I gave my word to Burchard I would use my powers to assist him and the crew. I’ll find out what needs to be done, and perhaps, you can find some work too.

If we’re going to be on this ship for the best part of a month, see if you can earn any extra coin. ”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winked.

She smirked at him before turning on her heel and exiting the cabin.

∞∞∞

On deck, she found Captain Burchard at the wheel.

The harsh sun beat against her face. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips dry. At least the hat prevented her scalp from burning. She’d need to pay a visit to the ship’s physician for a medicinal concoction to protect herself from the rays.

“I intend to keep my word,” she said as she approached the captain.

“Huh?” He glanced at her. “Ah, yes. Your magic.”

“With any luck, Moryana will look upon our voyage kindly, but if any storms were to come our way, perhaps I can stop them,” she said. “I’ll need to practise, of course, but I haven’t found any limitations to the use of my natural magic.”

“You’re saying your power rivals a deity’s?” The captain narrowed his eyes.

She lifted one shoulder. “Well, I wouldn’t have used those exact words, but astral magic is ancient. I can produce fire, make plants grow—who’s to say I can’t control the storm, or at least keep it away from the sails of this ship?”

He remained silent for a moment, as if to contemplate her words. Then he gave a quick, sharp nod. “You best get on with it, then.”

Smiling, she returned the nod, then headed to her berth—the privacy of the small cabin would give her the space and quiet to open a portal.

Once the shimmering circle was formed, she slipped into the prism world, the manicured lawns of Kirovo Palace stretching in front of her.

∞∞∞

“Check again.” Filip narrowed his gaze on the man, who wrote the ledgers for the ship’s passengers .

“As I’ve already told you, sir, there’s no one aboard under the names you’ve provided.” The man closed the book, then packed his belongings as the crewmen rose the sails behind him.

“What about the aliases I gave you?” Filip said.

“They weren’t there either,” the man said. “I must be on my way now. The ship’s about to set sail and the captain doesn’t wait for anyone.”

A burst of anger shot through Filip’s core. He grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck. “Check again.”

“Let me go!” The man gasped. “I’ve done as you’ve asked.”

“Perhaps we should find the harbourmaster.” Pyotr stepped closer between the two men. “He’ll have documentation for all the ships—and if they’re carrying passengers. While Damir and Adelina might’ve bribed the clerks to keep quiet, the captains are required to list these things.”

Filip let go of the man’s collar, then backed away.

Pyotr and the guards followed him.

Scanning his surroundings, Filip found a single-storey building at the edge of the harbour. A flag billowed outside, and a man dressed in tailored shirt and trousers, paired with a black-rimmed cap, conversed with another man outside the door.

“Excuse me.” Filip approached them. “Are you the harbourmaster?”

The man in the cap nodded. “I sure am. What can I do for you?”

“I require access to your logs,” Filip said, keeping a tight leash on his bubbling impatience. “I’m looking for two individuals, who I believe boarded a boat here. ”

“I’m sorry, sir.” The harbourmaster shook his head. “I’m not at liberty to disclose such information.”

“Please,” Filip feigned desperation. “The lady, she is my betrothed, and she has been taken against her will. I must find her.”

The harbourmaster pressed his lips into a tight line, as if considering.

Digging into his pocket, Filip grabbed a pouch of coins and handed it to the harbourmaster. “Please. I only wish to escort her home safely. She must be returned to the bosom of her family.”

Sighing, the harbourmaster nodded to the door. “Follow me. And keep your money. I do this only because I have a daughter myself, and a fair lady is never safe at sea.”

The harbourmaster presented Filip with all his logs of the morning, and after a few minutes of flicking through the pages, he found their handwriting.

“Thank you.” Filip met the harbourmaster’s gaze. “When does your next ship depart?”

“ The Maiden departs in fifteen minutes.” The harbourmaster pointed through the window to a large vessel.

Filip strode out of the building, Pyotr at his side.

“Now, that’s a fine ship!” Pyotr whistled as he and Filip approached it—the sails on its three masts already raised.

A carved goddess was mounted to the ship’s bow—a wooden depiction of what Filip presumed to be Moryana. Many mounted guns could be seen from his position on the harbour .

“It certainly is,” Filip said—his voice escaped his mouth in a light whisper, his breath almost taken from him by the beauty of the mammoth ship before him. “One such as this would be useful in laying siege to a smaller vessel, one which may be transporting Adelina and Damir. Find the captain.”

“Yes, sir.” Pyotr nodded once, then dashed towards the ramp leading to the deck.

∞∞∞

The following morning, Adelina and Damir sat with the crewmen near the galley, bowls of cooked sausage and rye bread in hand.

His hands were raw from working the ropes and sails, but this didn’t seem to bother him as he ate with a smile on his face.

“What are your plans for today?” she asked him.

“One of the new crewmen has fallen ill with a bad case of sea-sickness, so I volunteered to fill his place for routine maintenance.” He wiped the corners of his mouth after he swallowed the last bite of food. “You?”

“I need to visit the physician—have you seem him about? Afterwards, I’ll be back in the prism world. Burchard expects an update on my progress imminently.” She rested her empty bowl on the wooden table beside her.

“You’ll find Doctor Sullivan right there.” He pointed to a grey-haired man on a bench a few tables over.

“You should see him too—your cheeks have blistered.” She nudged his shoulder.

He rose, then kissed her forehead. “I need to get going—there’s work to be done. Pick up some cream for me if it soothes your worry.”

With a gentle squeeze of her arm, he turned, then headed for the deck.

∞∞∞

Once she’d returned from the physician with two pots of salve in her hand, she ventured back to her cabin. She grabbed one of her spell books, then conjured the prism world.

Stepping through the portal, she returned to the manicured lawn of Kirovo Palace. She wondered why this magical dimension took the form of her former home. Perhaps it’d something to do with her connection to Filip—they were forever bound to each other, whether or not she liked it.

Grateful for the wealth of knowledge within the books she’d taken from the palace, she stroked the parchment pages gently.

She read through its contents, scanning sections she’d previously digested about astral magic and its solar properties. It was clear she didn’t need to control the wind itself, but rather, interfere with it via the use of the sun.

“ Areiras nielasnal ,” she said as she traced her finger along the written spell and the text beneath it.

This incantation, in conjunction with astral magic at its strongest, will intercept weather of a perilous nature. However, the conjurer should note such usage draws on the powers of whomever wields nether magic.

Slamming the book shut, she huffed. How in the realm was she going to draw on Filip’s power when, hopefully, half an ocean separated them?

She wasn’t in any position to inform Burchard she would be useless in the event of a dangerous storm because of the give and take relationship between astral and nether powers.

All she could do was hope the weather remained fair during their voyage at sea.