Page 111 of Daughter of the Dark Sea

“Bree, this is just the grog talking.” Her teeth clenched as she tried to suppress the haze.She’s drunk. She doesn’t mean it. She doesn’tknowyour secret.“I get you have worries, but just because we spend a lot of time together it doesn’t mean anything.”

The lie rolled off her tongue too easily. Below, cries rang out as a wave of the ocean sprayed up against the lower decks of South Wharf Station. A familiar pulse speared her chest, and her fingers flexed as she warded off the tempting pool of power brimming.

“No, no, no,” Bree shook her head violently. “Iseeit now. You want him. Well, he’smine. As the heiress of the House of Hydrafort, I can claim him.Right now.”

The ocean lurched, and Blake’s eyes widened as a rolling wave lashed up, nearly reaching their level. Bree squeaked as droplets of salted water sprayed onto the decking, but Kora didn’t budge.

“Stop it Bree, you don’t know what you’re saying. You know you can’t do anything official without the marriage rite in the Citadel. Think of what your father would say.”

“Listen to her,” Blake murmured in a sickening attempt to be gentle, still not removing Bree’s hand from his chest.Bastard.“You’ve had a lot to drink. I’m flattered, but you’re not thinking clearly.”

Bree huffed a laugh, her musical twinkle fading and replaced with something . . . ugly.

“I bet he hasn’t fullycommittedto you yet.” Bree’s sly grin made something snap in Kora as Blake’s face paled.

What did she know? What had he told her? In fact, what had Blake and Bree beendoingtogether in all those moments alone?

This time, the ocean wave cascaded up the side of the mountain, spilling onto multiple decks, drowning fires and flooding caves. Her mental glacial dome shattered as she loosened the leash on her power. The wind whipped into a gust, and it stroked down the length of her back like a yearning caress.

“Use your power,”the male voice flooded her mind, as if keeping it at bay had made it stronger, more relentless. “Get away from them.”

Kora’s fingers twitched, and the ocean water spooled around Bree’s and Blake’s feet, reaching for their ankles. Bree cried out, leaping away. It felt like an extension of her body, as though her own fingers were snatching their ankles, ready to drag them to the depths. Bree’s goblet of wine clattered to the ground, dark wine mixing with water as she slipped, falling with her arms flailing.

Kora flashed back to when they met, of Bree falling the first time, with no one to catch her as she shattered her bones on the marble ballroom floor. She instinctively reached out, swooping to catch Bree before she disgraced herself in front of the mass of sailors who’d grouped inside the mouth of the cave, hiding from the sudden ocean storm that raged. Bree breaking her bones again would be a headache none of them needed right now.

Well, that’s what she told herself. Was it an attempt to reconcile the surviving dregs of their friendship? Maybe. But as she steadied Bree on her feet, she shoved Kora away.

“Don’t!” Bree snapped. “I’m fine!”

She glowered at Kora, even if Bree wasn’t aware of Calypso’s gift that Kora possessed, as though everything that’d happened was her fault. The ever-present pit of shame and guilt tunnelled deeper into Kora’s core.

“I’m going to retire,” Bree smoothed out her gown. “Blake, would you assist me?”

Kora stilled as Blake nodded tentatively without hesitation. Her attempt at saving their friendship—and avoiding the nightmare if they delivered a noble in a cast to the Citadel—and her vow with Blake, simultaneously thrown back at her face.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke. “She’s not herself. She needs help walking, let alone thinking.”

As Blake aided the staggering Hydrafort heiress to the inn, Kora stood on the decking alone, her clothes soaked, and the wind roaring in her ears as her heart splintered.

“I’m here. You’re not alone.”

43

The inn Erick had chosen was decadent. Floors lined with emerald and gold runners, and rough cave walls covered in tapestries depicting the Talmon Empire’s history, interspersed with wooden doors leading to rooms.

Kora followed the winding tunnel, her fingers brushing over the tendrils of ivy hanging from the ceiling.Room four,the innkeeper had said. It was like a maze, and she exhaled with relief when she located her door. A brass plate, entwined with leaves and the number fouretched into it, shone in the flickering light, next to a tapestry depicting Admiral Darkon.

He stood atop a pile of bodies, Staghart flag in one hand, the flames of the land roaring behind him as he fought in the end of the conquest, before the empire existed. His black hair shrouded his equally dark eyes, hiding his face. Darkon had perished not long after uniting the islands, succumbing to infection and illness from the war.

Shame he didn’t have Koji there to help him. His salve worked wonders. Despite its stench.

Key in hand, she moved to unlock the door, but stilled as the sound of a familiar voice floated through the cavernous tunnel.

“It’s growing stronger every day. I’ve had reports of it escaping the trench.”

Erick.

“We cannot kill it—we have to find some way of containing it.”