Page 108 of Daughter of the Dark Sea

“She was beautiful, and desirable. Her hand maidens were mermaids she created from the bowels of the ocean, and then Kaiah—the earth god—gifted her the islands for her mermaids. He loved Calypso, so he made lands in her oceans so they could always find each other. Always be together, and not cleaved apart by their own elements.” Yearning filled Bree’s sigh.

“I’m surprised your father told you such stories,” Kora spoke quietly.

She’d read the same tales in Agatha’s tomes—about the creation of their world, and the four elemental gods that ruled unchecked. Moulding and shaping the waters and lands until it became Devania. The kingdom of the divine. And how divine it’d been for thousands of years. Until the gods disappeared, magic along with them, hundreds of years ago.

Andmancame to rule.

Now it was Azaria. Kingdom of humans, murderers, and pirates. All achieved through the two-hundred-year-long Devanian Conquest that ended over fifty years ago, just for the Galenite War to take its place.

“He believes it’s important to know the history of our enemies. Of their fables of magic and gods. I just think it’s so romantic.”

“Sure,” Kora mused. “A story of romance and mystical creatures.” She wriggled her fingers in the air.

“You laugh now, but I’ve heard there’s aprophecy. From the witches.”

“How do you know what the witches are prophesising?”

“Just listen!” Bree smacked her arm. “The witches say the gods will choose someone who will bring forth prosperity to the land, and defeat the evil that lurks, restoring the gods’ home to what it once was. They will have unimaginable power—power of the world itself.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“I think it’s fascinating,” Bree’s bright blue eyes devoured the ocean. “Imagine if it were true. Someone chosen to defeat the pirates and the rebels. It couldn’t mean anything else.”

“Well . . . it’s just stories. Only the king has that kind of power,” Kora swallowed her lies. That prophecy hadn’t been in any of Agatha’s readings or teachings, meaning it wasnew. And somehow, Bree knew it.

A horn sounded behind them and Kora whirled in alarm, her eyes frantically searching for those gleaming white sails that stole her breath away.The Burning Dragonsailed beside them. It was larger than her ship, with intricate flame detailing, luscious green sails, and a vicious dragon figurehead. Its maw was wide open, and lined with razor-sharp teeth made of malachite stone. At full capacity, the ship housed up to six hundred sailors—far more than her two hundred.

Erick stood at the edge and, with one leap, he swung from his ship to Kora’s, landing with a grunt as he straightened his knees.

“Erick?” She hurried over, with Aryn materialising at her side. Bree hung back, her stare wide.

“Commodore,” Aryn dipped his head and Erick carefully regarded him, the lines of his body tense beneath his armour. He turned and waved to his ship, and another horn blasted through the gentle breeze.

“I’m sending my ships ahead to scout the final part of the route.” A messenger hawk circled the top of the main mast ofThe Burning Dragonas it angled away fromHell’s Serpent. “I’ve just received a missive from the Citadel.” His face was grave as he clutched the missive, its golden wax seal broken, staining the paper.

“What is it?”

“Galen has declared war.” Erick’s brown eyes were panicked, and Kora’s heart pounded. He was never panicked. He was always the calm, observant one. “They’re coming, Kora. Galen is going to attack the Citadel.”

42

Floating wooden decks jutted out of towering rock. Thick ropes, as wide as Samuel’s body, connected them to naturally formed caves, encasing one side of the rust-toned mountain. Strings of lanterns littered the mouths of the caves, with fires burning on the centre of each deck, and ivy snaked up the mountain, trailing under the decks, as if nature supported the structure.

South Wharf Station was a notorious stopping point for travelling sailors. Some decades ago, after the Talmon Empire had established themselves on Talmon Island, a lone architect had travelled out and chipped away at the mountainous, isolated island lingering off the cliffy coast of the Citadel.

Sailors from all walks of life bustled along the floating decks, in and out of the lantern-lit caves. Merchants had settled in various levels, providing taverns, inns, and stores to suffice every weary traveller’s whim. Kora was certain there was a brothel on the top level.

The architect had created the ingenious invention of an internal pulley-system. Miner’s shafts in the heart of the mountain that had been developed into wooden platforms, with various connecting ropes and handles.

Kora tentatively stepped onto one with her core crew—and Bree—lumbering onto it beside her. Samuel’s grey eyes flew wide with wonder, and she realised he, too, had probably never ventured to Talmon, just like her.

Theron and Blake grabbed hold of the pulley system, and raised the platform until they reached the middle levels. A rounded smooth tunnel, with ivy intricately cascading throughout, led them to one of the caves with a tavern built into it, and Samuel let out a low whistle as they all stepped into Ignitus Rocks.

Rich, red-and-orange-toned rugs littered the floor, keeping the coldness of the rock at bay. Lanterns hung from the ceiling between stalactites, casting a warm glow. A bar made of the same rusted rock encased the left side of the cave, and on the floating deck low, burgundy velvet armchairs were circled around fires. Small, mahogany tables stood adjacent to each armchair, with candles burning down to their wicks encased in dark holders.

Multiple sets of eyes swivelled towards the group, and Kora could only imagine what they looked like together. The towering presence of Samuel, the dark royal sentinel, the shadowy predator that was Ivar, the formidable, fiery Commodore Cadell, the best archer in the world, the latest champion of the Darkoning Trials, and the near-enough princess of the Hydrafort family.

And then there was Kora.