Page 43 of Daughter of the Dark Sea

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.

The lost girl.

Whispers weaved throughout the cave, echoing off the smoothed stone, and she flushed at the attention they attracted.

“Well,”

Blake murmured.

“let’s get a drink.”

“Best thing you’ve said all day.”

Samuel stormed towards the bar.

“Put it on my tab,”

Erick called, as Aryn, Blake—with Bree hot on his heels—and Ivar followed Samuel.

“I wouldn’t have done that,”

Kora taunted.

“He’ll drain your coffers dry.”

“They know me here,”

Erick replied dryly.

She lifted a surprised brow. Such a small insight into his life, but she held the information close to her heart. How many times had he been to Ignitus Rocks?

“Let’s sit over there, we need to talk.”

Erick motioned for Theron to follow.

“Why don’t you join the others?”

His pointed glance skewered her, and she froze mid-stride at the dismissal, feeling like a child being told she couldn’t join the adult’s conversation.

It wasn’t often when Erick the commodore ordered her around, and she’d learned the hard way to listen to him—even if it went against every instinct she had. Because he always had her best interests at the forefront of his mind. Or some nonsense like that. He took this parenting thing too seriously sometimes.

“Oh . . . of course.”

She awkwardly stood for a moment as the two males slipped away, their voices hushed, their faces strained. Something wasn’t right, and by the gods she would find out. She turned to her crew at the bar.

Bree clasped a goblet of wine, her bright eyes fluttering at Blake, who smiled lightly as they conversed. Samuel had three steins of ale, chugging them down whilst Aryn shook his head, sipping his single stein. His fingers kept brushing his bowstring, his golden-flecked hazel eyes darting towards Ivar, who leaned with his back to the bar, arms crossed, his black eyes trained on Theron and Erick across the cave.

Kora placed a hand on her chest. They were all precious to her—except Ivar—and she hoped, she prayed she wouldn’t lose them—any of them, in the face of the oncoming war.

War.

She never thought she’d see the day she would be actively involved in a war. It changed everything. It made her dizzy. All her plans were foiled, there was no way she could slip off to Shannara now. No way she could prevent Blake from joining the army when they would need him most. At least she was out of the Skytors’ grasp.

He glanced up, his green eyes scanning the cave until he found her, and the tensity within him visibly relaxed as he waved her over to join them. With a stiff smile, she trudged over to Blake and Bree, the latter turning surly as Kora ordered a large stein of ale.

Kora leaned against the floating deck’s edge beside the sheer drop of the mountain below. She trained her gaze on the Citadel in the distance. Shining like a grand beacon against the black drop of the sky, the sea terrorised the jagged cliffs it sat upon.

Blake exhaled next to her as a crisp, cool breeze ruffled his raven hair. Gods, that level of handsomeness should be illegal. His entire body was tense and rigid, and when he looked at the Citadel, a glimmer of a green ember burned in his eyes, ringed by shadows.

Samuel and Aryn lounged inside the cave, the former nursing his many steins of ale, the latter constantly trying to stop him from invading the bar and bankrupting Erick. Theron, Ivar, and Erick had retired to an inn, ensuring they had rooms for the evening before they sailed to the Citadel tomorrow.

Several sailors had cornered Bree, asking her a multitude of questions about the noble houses, and the Citadel they were never allowed to visit. Only residents, or visitors with formal invitations were allowed in. Bree all-too-quickly welcomed the attention, and her musical laugh wafted on the gentle winds encasing them this high up. Her blue gaze repeatedly swivelled in their direction, her smile straining until her porcelain skin looked ready to crack.

Below the deck, Kora glimpsed her black-and-green crew, drinking and singing in various taverns. They deserved it—gods, they all deserved this one night off. She’d even partook in some dubious gambling with Samuel, granting some of the silvers he’d lost playing Cribbage weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Everything’s going to change,”

she blurted out.

Blake startled and leaned forward, placing his arms on the wooden beams lining the deck. Only a strip of wood, carved to resemble the whirling pattern of clouds in the sky, prevented them from plummeting to their deaths.

“Hmm, agreed, my asterya.”

He shuffled closer.

“Blake . . . I’m scared,”

she whispered out loud. Admitting those words sent a palpable shiver through her. It was all too much, and it was all happening too fast.

His eyes softened, and he gently placed a hand on her shoulder. This time, she didn’t feel the warming blaze whenever their bodies connected. She could only feel the tensity of Blake, the stiff indifference, as if he were a stranger bumping into her.

“I promise you, I won’t leave your side. I’ll be there at the end. We will be there at the end—together.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

His gaze sharpened, his fingers tightening slightly, small enough that it’d be hard to notice. But Kora had memorised his touches and his caresses until they were imprinted in her mind.

“I . . .”

he was at a loss for words.

He’d already broken one promise about remaining on Hell’s Serpent. She wasn’t sure whether she believed he could keep another. She was surrounded by lies and secrets—and it was becoming hard to tell which were real. He gripped her shoulder, his strong hands clenching around her arms, and she winced as his grip rubbed against her healing rope burns, but Blake didn’t let go.

“We will be together till the end, Kora. I’m not letting go of you.”

“Maybe . . . I should be letting go of you.”

She’d thought about it long and hard. He’d already decided to seek employment in the army, and that kind of distance wasn’t feasible. Their time wasn’t now. Not with a war approaching.

Perhaps the empire was right, relationships between officers were a bad idea. They’d only be distracted, unable to commit to what atrocities laid ahead. If they survived the war . . . then they had a chance.

Blake flinched, his face drooping in shock.

“You don’t mean that. You’re pushing me away because of the war.”

His grip tightened so much that Kora hissed in pain, but he still didn’t let go.

“Don’t do this again. I can’t lose you Kora, I need you with me, beside me.”

What are you doing?

Leaving.

No . . . Kora. Don’t leave, please. We’ll get through this together.

One of us must die Blake . . . this is for the best.

She gasped, shoving past the memory of the night before the final contest of the Darkoning Trials. It’d been one of her lowest and darkest moments. And she’d nearly thrown everything away.

“I’m not doing anything. I’m thinking of what’s best for you!”

She tried to break free from his grip, but Blake was as solid as the stone of the mountain. By the gods.

She’d been selfish their entire relationship, and she was done. She was ready to leap, and free fall into the abyss, releasing him from their vow.

“You’re what’s best for me! I have no future without you,”

he pleaded.

“I’m just in the way,”

Kora mumbled, tears threatening to surface.

“You could achieve so much more without me. The empire needs you.”

“You are everything. Everything I have worked for and more.”

His plead turned rough, and her neck cracked as he shook her.

“I have done everything for you, to be here with you. You have no idea! We made a vow!”

“I-I know, Blake, stop it . . .”

she fumbled at his hands.

“You’re hurting me!”

Just like that, a shadow cast over Blake’s face as the moon dipped behind a cloud and he released her, staring at his own hands as if he didn’t recognise them. Almighty Thanos. That conversation did not go as she’d planned.

“Kora!”

Bree staggered over, her goblet of wine sloshing over the wooden deck, staining her purple gown tangling around her feet.

“Bree? How many of those have you had?”

“That . . . is none of your concern,”

Bree’s words slurred as she dazedly smiled at Blake, her blue eyes sparkling. Her perfect mouth parted as she exhaled, her full bosom rising in her tight corset.

Calypso spare her, this was the worst timing.

“Why don’t you spend some time with a royal noble?”

Bree’s attempt at purring was nauseating, and she trailed one finger down Blake’s chest, her fingers tracing the buttons and buckles of his black attire.

“Not now,”

Blake spoke gruffly, his stubbled jaw clenched.

Not now? Kora stared at him incredulously—what did that mean?

Bree’s stare slanted to Kora.

“You,”

she hissed, and Kora blinked in shock at her friend.

“You’re always in the way. I saw you two together just now. You just don’t want me to be with him. Well, I have news for you, Kora Cadell, the champion would never stoop so low to be with someone the likes of you.”

Kora’s mouth dropped open as Bree flattened her palm against Blake’s chest in a feeble attempt to claim him in front of her.

“Bree! What . . . why . . . why would you . . .”

Blake didn’t remove Bree’s glistening hand, and stood there as statuesque as the towering station. Kora glared at them both, her simmering temper threatening to boil over. Stay calm, stay calm.

“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’t know your 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.

“I see it now. You want him. Well, he’s mine. 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 fully committed to 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 been doing together 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.”