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J ade followed Librus into the chamber in the seminary where he worked, her eyes desperate to find something familiar.

But though this was an academic building, she saw no books on shelves, no wide desk, nothing to remind her of the schools she’d attended or the ones she’d seen on her tour of the university she’d hoped to be attending soon.

Instead, the room—cast, as everything was, in a blue-green light—had small shelves with gleaming data-crystals lining them where books should have been.

As in Electra’s house, there was a recessed pool where she was used to seeing plush furniture.

She found herself yearning for a sofa, a comfy chair.

The mer preferred to be in water whenever possible.

But she followed Librus to the pool and accepted the hand he held out to help her step into it. She wore a set of Electra’s clothes, which she’d already learned could be submerged for hours yet repel the water and come up dry the moment she left the pool.

Well. Dry ish . Nothing down here was ever truly dry.

She wasn’t sure yet what she thought of the man who followed her into the water and took a seat on one of the benches shaped into the side. He was kinder than Electra, yes. But he was also the one who had convinced Prince Finn that she ought to be kidnapped and forced into marriage.

She didn’t intend to forget that.

“Give me your hand,” he said, holding out his own. Nothing harsh in his tone…but it was still a command.

For one heartbeat, she thought of Storm. So strong, so capable, yet never once had he demanded anything of her. Then she blinked and forced those thoughts away. She had to focus, had to keep herself firmly planted in the here and now so that she could learn who these kidnappers of hers really were.

Victims or villains? Noble revolutionaries or cutthroat rebels?

She held out her hand, and Librus didn’t hesitate so much as a moment before pressing his palm to hers.

At the first touch, she felt only the normal sensation of skin on her own.

His palms were the smooth ones of a scholar, not the roughened versions she was used to thanks to island life, with fishermen and soldiers surrounding her.

Her own were calloused from line and weapons and rods.

Maybe that was why Librus frowned and pressed harder.

Heat blazed. Burning, but not burning. Heat without pain. It filled her, starting at her hand and pulsing up her arm, to her heart, and then out to the rest of her. Only when it reached her eyes did she realize it was light. But it blinded her to anything else.

Light, only light. Yellow light, not the underwater blue that she hadn’t yet learned to filter out of her awareness. Sunlight . It eclipsed her actual vision and then shifted. Not fading but admitting another kind of vision. One that came from something other than her eyes.

First, Librus. In a flash, she knew him.

Could see the hundred and ten years he’d lived.

She could feel the love he’d felt for his parents, the dedication to the sister who was twenty years younger.

The fear when she’d been Awakened, even though he’d known it was likely.

Fear, because that meant she too would be a slave of the queen.

Fear because Mariana was growing darker as she grew stronger. Fear because the Crown Princess looked at the rest of them with hatred and jealousy.

She felt the grief when his human father died. When his mer mother refused to use the weak magic in her blood any longer, so that her body grew weak and gave up.

She felt the Call of the One surge up in him one day as he studied the Holy Writ. The awe of communing with the divine.

Then she felt…something she couldn’t. Something her senses had no way to process.

Something that clattered and clashed and banged its way into her perception yet couldn’t quite break through.

Magic . His, not hers. It was brighter than eyes could see and louder than ears could hear and a sensation in cells she’d never used before. She knew it and didn’t.

It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. And she wondered, even as she tried and failed to grasp it, if this was what all magic was like, every time. If it was always blinding and deafening and overwhelming. If so, how did it not drive everyone to madness?

Librus pulled his palm away, and Jade gasped back to normal consciousness. The light faded and turned blue, and she was again aware of her surroundings. She saw his concerned face, handsome in its ageless lines, in the water across from her.

Her heart twisted, pounded, squeezed. How long had that been? Seconds, minutes, hours? Either way, the sheer volume of information she’d absorbed left her lightheaded. He’d shown her not just facts but thoughts, feelings, reactions.

She blinked away the dizziness and stared at him.

He was good looking, as was to be expected of an Awakened.

Dark hair that waved back and down to his collar, skin of a warm bronze, eyes so deep a brown they looked nearly black.

As she studied him, something tugged within her.

Something that lived in those same inert cells that he’d taught her how to feel through his own experience. Magic .

Was it her own, trying to stir? Or his, still coursing through her? Her own thoughts or the ones he’d shared? Was the sudden bond she felt real, or a product of the thought-sharing?

Her eyes burned. She needed someone to talk to.

No, not just someone . She needed Arden, with her sarcasm and cynicism.

Arden, who could somehow, with her questions, make Jade feel confident in her own decisions.

Arden, who’d meet Electra’s attitude without flinching and would stare down Librus without being swayed even a little bit by either his good looks or his obvious power.

She was so much like Papa. Strong, capable, unflinching, even without magic.

Jade never would have dreamed of saying it out loud, but seeing Arden standing tall and unfazed by anything the world threw at them had always made Jade keenly aware that she was not Jericho Bleu’s daughter by blood. She had none of the warrior in her.

She had a sinking suspicion that her captors would soon condemn her for that. Much as she might want to help them survive, she didn’t want to go to battle to do it.

“Are you all right?” Librus’s voice was soft, gentle. “I’ve never done this before with an Unawakened. Please, let me know if it’s too much.”

She curled her fingers into her still-tingling palm.

He sounded so warm, so understanding, so concerned.

But for the first time in her life, she had no gut instinct as to whether or not she should trust him.

Part of her wanted to—part of her screamed a refusal.

And the confusion itself was confounding.

This was supposed to be what she was good at.

But what if she wasn’t anymore, or wasn’t down here, under the weight of the sea?

What if the thing she’d always thought was her true gift had abandoned her?

Magic couldn’t replace it. Wouldn’t . She didn’t want the power to manipulate the environment—she wanted the ability to understand people.

Please, Triada. Don’t take that away from me!

She opened her mouth intending to assure Librus she was fine, but instead a sob wracked her, curling her shoulders forward and pushing her head down.

They’d already taken her from her family. From Storm. But this sudden silence of her intuition? That was like losing herself .

Librus’s hands clasped her shoulders. “I’m sorry. So sorry. This is too much, too fast. I thought it would be quicker to show you, but…we’ll ease into it. A bit more each day, but plenty of the lessons can be given verbally. Does that sound better?”

She had no intention of telling him that it wasn’t the lesson that had brought her to tears.

No desire to confess that despite all the emotion he’d willed into her, she felt so empty right now.

Absent the things that mattered most—the people they’d taken her from, and the confidence in her own identity.

And then another thought hit, one that had her sucking in calming breaths and straightening again, forcing the tears to subside.

He’d put his thoughts into her mind—could he see hers too? Pull her thoughts out of her mind with his magic? Was this sudden lack of intuition because he’d taken it from her, somehow?

Librus handed her a towel when she tried to wipe her tears away with wet hands, though even that felt damp. But she held it to her face and breathed in its fresh scent until she felt calm enough to say, “Thanks.”

“Of course. Despite how I know you must feel about us all, we mean you no harm, my lady.”

She lifted her face, no doubt splotchy and red-eyed, and met his gaze. “Unless I don’t cooperate. Or am not magical. Then you’ll execute me.”

Librus laughed. “You needn’t fear that second one. I promise you, I did my research when we realized that the prophecy was ripe for fulfillment. You are the chosen one. I have no doubt whatsoever.”

A shiver coursed up her spine. “Could you start there? This prophecy?”

“Of course.” He leaned toward a shelf and a data reader, thumbing the crystal to life so that pages in an unfamiliar script sprang into the air.

She shivered again. “Could I get out of the water, if we’re doing it verbally?”

He froze for a moment. Then smiled. “Of course, forgive me. I’ve forgotten that land-dwellers are not as comfortable in the water as we are, despite my own father having been one. It has been too long since I’ve lived daily with his habits. Please, do whatever makes you most comfortable.”