Page 73 of Daughter of the Dark Sea

Lost in her thoughts, and brooding over her potentially ended relationship, her foot snagged on a rocky outcropping and she sprawled into a blissful pool of water. Large, jagged boulders surrounded the rockpool, creating a miniature cave with no ceiling, exposing it to the magnificent sky. The rocks were slick with ocean spray, and covered in algae, seaweed, and barnacles. She supposed they were better company than Blake’s mood.

Kora gently rested her back against it, her eyes closing against the muted darkness of the early night sky. The only lightavailable was of the waning crescent moon, twinkling stars, and the dim, orange embers from the campfire.

Hidden within the shadows of the cluster of large rocks, she rested in silence. Rolling up her trousers and removing her laced boots, her bare feet wallowed in the shallow rockpool, and she wriggled her toes as the cold water lapped against the skin of her ankles and shins. Good gods, it felt divine to soak her feet after five days of scorching heat—and no baths.

The ocean waves rolling onto the hard shore soothed her rattled mind, and the tension in her body unwound as the coolness of the rockpool eased the pains of riding Cadence for days.

The chilled liquid travelled past Kora’s ankles, coiling around her shins to her knees and she jolted at the thin stream of water winding itself around her legs like a snake. Alarm filled her, and she motioned her hand to wipe it away . . . and paused.

It wasn’t like a snake. It wasn’t constricting her, nor circling her like it would with prey. The watercaressedher skin, shimmering against the faint moonlight. The pain in her legs dulled to a tender soreness, and the water reached out to her outstretched hand, seemingly sensing her. Figuring out who she was.

“Hi,” Kora whispered, awe blooming on her tanned face.

She flexed her fingers and the stream rounded its end to form a finger-shape symmetrical to her own. Was the water alive? Or was this her power?

Upon contact, she gasped as a bolt of energy shot through her, straight to her core, lighting that sleeping power buried deep within her. The water sparkled iridescently, taking on a bioluminescent glow and cascading into the rockpool.

The wet, slick rocks glistened a unique indigo, and the barnacles pried open from the animated water. It rushed forward, enveloping Kora’s hand like a coil. She jolted, her bodyscraping the jagged harshness of the rocks as the water circled her, flowing up her legs and arms, and soaking into her light clothing.

Kora’s heart raced, her breath shuddering, and the talisman shone beneath her tan shirt. The water writhed excitedly, racing around her body like a hyper ferret. She flailed her arms, attempting to shake the water off but it didn’t budge, clinging to her like a lost child.

“Stop it!” she hissed, baring her teeth.

The water calmed, quietly looping around her in intricate swirling circles. She stilled and pushed away from the rocks, her back stinging with pain. As she winced, the water animated again, and she opened her mouth to order it to stop when she was suddenly overcome with a relieving coolness across her back.

It was healing her. Water had healing magic.

The discovery overwhelmed her, and her mind crested like an ocean wave, threatening to submerge her. Kora wracked her brain thinking through the individual factions of magic. It’d never been mentioned in any of Agatha’s tomes, or her teachings, that there was such thing as healing magic. None of the descriptions of the gods included healing abilities, either.

There werehealers, but they used traditional herbal remedies and medicines. If only she could’ve brought those tomes Agatha gave to her to research.Damn it.

She swallowed her escalating fear and drew a steadying breath, her hand fluttering across her chest, tracing the thundering pulse of her heart. Upon her exhale, she tensed her legs, willing strength to imbue them to keep her upright against the crescendo of energy washing over her in rolling waves.

“Alright . . .” she took another breath. “Now, you listen to me—whatever you are.” The water paused, awaiting her next words, listening intently. “It’s nice to meet you and all, but I’dappreciate it if you get off me now,” she paused. “I don’t have a . . . change of clothes.” Her words stumbled. She was talking to mystical water, for god’s sake.

Kora wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Perhaps some kind of slithering motion back into the rockpool, but the moment she finished talking, the water simplyfellfrom her body. It created a loudsplashand she grimaced, waiting to hear—or see—if anyone approached her from the camp. The talisman still shone beneath her shirt, and she glanced around the darkness before revealing it.

“No, no, no!” she moaned.

The sparkling blue glow within its heart had evolved into the shape of a crystalised diamond, and the ascending teal had absorbed more of the midnight blue shimmer. The teardrop shape was developing into an intricate pattern of winding vines, creating a complex swirl with pointed edges that Kora’s eyes couldn’t trace without feeling dizzy. Only the top third remained the original design, exposing the light blooming within.

How much time did she have left? What would happen when it was filled with her power? Would she shrivel into a husk?

Nibbling her bottom lip, Kora studied the talisman, twirling it around in her hands, figuring out if there was some way to slow it down—or even stop it, by adjusting the woven swirls. She thumbed the pointed edges, her wet skin sliding over the smooth metal. As she turned the talisman over in her hand to inspect the other side, it sliced the inside of her palm.

With a pained hiss, Kora plunged her hand into the glowing water upon instinct. It rippled around her, and thin tendrils of her blood floated from her palm, mixing with the iridescent blue. Confused at her own actions, she removed her hand from the crisp, chill water, and her blood ran just as cold.

The slice had fully healed. Not even a faint pink scar remained. Her blood washed away clean, and her skin was supple and smooth . . . even her callouses had disappeared.

The talisman hummed, eating up her power.

She observed the dark expanse of the ocean. There was nothing out there for hundreds of miles. If someone were to sail from Whitestone Bay and keep going, they’d arrive at the continent of Azaria after weeks of sailing.

It was so eerily dark out there, as if a shadow had overcome the night—even the stars’ twinkle seemed dimmer. Her gaze slid to the talisman in her smooth hand, and back to the blackened ocean.

No one would know.

Problem solved, right?