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The ancient name of the island, still used by some of the more remote villages, is Rahvekya. Upon its surrender and entry into the Empire, the land was named in honor of the strategic genius who led the campaign, General Leeshyn Akeisa. The General also served as its first Grand Duke.

Akeisa: A Comprehensive History (Volume One)

by Guildmaster Klement

The Kraken was coming.

It wasn’t that Naia possessed any particular knowledge of this fact. Rather, it was more of a sense, the fine hairs on her arms and neck lifting at his approach. She could simply feel him. She always could. It was a tugging sensation, low in her belly, one that she hadn’t recognized at first but now understood.

Arousal.

She clenched her hands into fists and stared out over the harbor, her cheeks still hot and her body pulsing gently with anticipation.

Damn him, anyway.

Churning water heralded a disturbance deep in the bay. The tiny waves that lapped at the docks turned to swells that frothed and splashed. Everyone on the dock froze in unison as a massive wooden monster stabbed out of the waves. The waters of the bay shuddered as the prow of a ship followed it, slicing up from the depths as if carried forth on a giant swell.

The Kraken revealed itself in pieces. Dark-black wood and shiny gold portholes and massive green sails that emerged from the water improbably dry and immediately filled with a wind that touched nothing and no one else.

Except for Naia. It sighed through her skirts and lifted her hair as the ship raced toward the docks, water still sluicing off its deck and hull.

Only one person stood on the deck, gripping the ship’s wheel with an assurance that spoke of confidence and experience—Einar, captain of the vessel.

The Kraken himself.

On the surface, he vaguely resembled the man standing beside her. He and Aleksi shared the same coloring—dark hair and eyes, golden skin. They were even about the same height.

But that was where the similarities ended. Aleksi was broad through the shoulders and lean everywhere else, with a lithe sort of strength that screamed speed and grace. And his gorgeous face had inspired countless songs and sculptures and paintings, all of which had endeavored in vain to capture the full glory of the Lover—the elegant slash of his brows, his long lashes, his luxurious mouth. He was a work of art, perfect and untouchable.

Einar wasn’t elegant. He wasn’t even beautiful. His nose was crooked, and his craggy features were rough. But something about their asymmetrical arrangement pleased Naia, especially when he smiled.

And when he laughed ...

She tore her gaze away from him as the ship shuddered to a stop alongside the dock. The deck abruptly swarmed with crew who tossed ropes to waiting dockhands and lowered a gangplank. Einar was the first person down it, ignoring the awed gazes and excited murmurs of the small crowd as he strode directly to Dianthe and bowed in a way that somehow married arrogance and reverence. His dark hair was shaved on the sides, but the top spilled rakishly over his eyes as he glanced up at her with a wicked smile. “My queen.”

Dianthe sighed with exasperated fondness as she ran her nails through his hair and then tugged, pulling him up. “Save the dramatic obeisances, Einar. It is enough that you came so quickly.”

Einar transferred that wicked smile to Naia, and her stomach clenched. “How could I not, with such precious cargo to be conveyed?”

Naia inclined her head. “Captain.”

Behind him, shouts sounded as a second gangplank hit the deck. Nimble sailors scampered up, carrying crates of supplies and heavy trunks. Einar winked at Naia before pivoting to face Aleksi, who received a much shallower bow and no mischievous grin. “My lord.”

“Einar.” Aleksi glanced at Dianthe. “Do you anticipate trouble in Akeisa?”

Einar’s smile faltered. “Akeisa?”

“Our destination,” Naia explained. “Do you know it well?”

His smile returned abruptly, too bright. Too forced. “Can’t say I’ve ever visited. I don’t imagine its ruler would have welcomed a ship from the Sheltered Lands.”

“Well, Gwynira is ready to welcome you now.” The Siren’s beautiful face hardened. “And while I don’t anticipate trouble, given the mess the Betrayer left behind ... I plan to prepare for it.”

Naia quelled a sigh of relief. If trouble did arise, at least the Kraken and his crew could effect a ready escape. Not that she was frightened. She’d fought in the final battle against the Empire; surely she could handle a little diplomacy. But she was young, and it sometimes seemed as though the entirety of her existence had been ... bigger than her.

Her first mission for Dianthe had been to escort the Dragon’s promised consort from the capital to his keep, high in the mountains. That consort, Sachielle, had turned out to be the Everlasting Dream itself. And Sachi’s lover and companion, Zanya, was the manifestation of the Endless Void.

Naia considered them friends , which barely made sense even in the confines of her own mind. And now, Dianthe was trusting her to accompany two elder Dreamers, the Lover and the Kraken, on a vital mission.

The god of all things that grew and a terrifying sea monster.

In this company, who wouldn’t be a bit intimidated?

Aleksi touched her arm, a gentle graze she could have imagined if not for the way it lingered. “You’ll be fine, Naia. Better than fine. You were born for this.”

She flashed him a grateful smile, and there was no more time for doubts. Dianthe bade her farewell with a kiss on the cheek, and then Einar’s large hand found the small of Naia’s back and gently steered her toward the gangplank. “You’ll have to settle for plain old wood this time.”

How did he manage to make that sound filthy? “If I recall correctly, you found my water bridges insulting to the dignity of your ship.”

He only chuckled, a low, dark sound that shivered up Naia’s spine. She shrugged free of his touch and hurried up the gangplank unaided.

The moment her feet touched the deck, a wave of sense memory rolled over her. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the crew bustling around, laughing and calling out with questions and orders. The scents of salt water, wet rope, and pitch surrounded her. Enveloped her.

the net drapes across her lap, damp and slick, but all her attention is on the tear to be mended, the netting shuttle heavy in her hand, her fingers slipping effortlessly into grooves worn into the bone

leaning over the carved edge of the canoe, watching the shallows for the telltale flash of fish scales in the slanting afternoon light

he climbs aloft to trim the sails, worn boots balancing on the footropes, hands tight around the jackstays, don’t look down, don’t look—

Naia gasped in a breath. The memories were both hers and not, moments that she had not lived, but that belonged to her now, all the same. They had come from the minds and hearts of fishermen and sailors and divers, from lives spent in tiny villages and out on the open seas. They were a part of the ocean, and Naia had brought them with her from the Dream.

“Steady, now,” Einar rumbled in her ear, a caress every bit as tangible as his fingers on her arm. “You good?”

The familiarity sparked something hot in her chest, a gentle pain that felt suspiciously like longing. “I’m not a fancy lady who’s never been on a proper ship before, Captain.”

Laughter spilled over her, deep and low. “Proper ships, eh? My sweet goddess, there is nothing proper about the Kraken.”

She bit her lip to hide a smile. “A hull, several decks, a crew ... It all seems proper enough to me.”

“That’s because they’re all being responsible now. Wait until we’re sailing under a starlit sky and they’ve found their way into the brandy. Whatever you do, don’t gamble with any of them.”

So he hadn’t completely figured her out. Not yet. “I am not afraid of a good-natured wager.”

“No, I imagine you’re not.” His fingers teased over her arm as he released her. “Be sure you know the stakes when you bet against a pirate, though.”

“Why? Is someone going to take advantage of me?” She met his sparking gaze, held it just long enough to turn the words into a challenge, then looked away. “It’s a beautiful ship, Einar.”

“I know,” he growled.

The deck seemed to vibrate under Naia’s feet, as if it was grumbling right along with its captain. Sometimes, it was difficult to tell where the god ended and his vessel began.

A tall, wiry woman with a sun-weathered face and wild gray hair appeared from belowdecks, dusting off her hands. “Supplies are almost loaded in. We’ll make the tide.”

“Good.” Einar turned, but the woman planted both feet and cleared her throat, looking pointedly at Naia. After a moment, he pivoted back. “Naia, meet my first mate, Petya.”

“A pleasure,” the woman said warmly as she held out a hand. “We didn’t get a chance to meet on the trip to the Empire, but I saw you fight. You’re a formidable young lady.”

It should have sounded like an idle compliment, but the sincerity shining from the woman’s eyes had Naia smiling as she shook her hand. “You honor me. Is there anything I can do?”

“Do?” she asked.

“To help, of course.”

Petya shook her head. “You’re a sweet girl, but the crew has their rhythms and it’s best not to disrupt them.” The old woman turned as Aleksi joined them on the deck. “You are welcome, my lord.”

“Petya.” He took her free hand and kissed the back of it. “Stunning, as always.”

Her weathered cheeks flushed. “Flatterer.”

A small, sleek black cat curled around Petya’s legs before approaching Naia with a plaintive meow. Naia picked her up and smiled when the cat curled into her arms and began to delicately lick one paw.

“That’s Ceillie, my cat,” Petya said. “Is she bothering you? Here, let me—”

“No.” Naia leaned away slightly. “No, it’s fine. She’s beautiful.”

Aleksi sighed. “That is not a cat.”

Naia was torn between confusion and indignation. “Excuse me?”

“She’s a higher intelligence shaped like a cat,” he explained. “That’s what happens after a thousand years or so.”

“After a thous ...” Feeling almost faint, Naia trailed off and peered down at the cat in her arms. Ceillie stared back, her green eyes assessing. “This is an immortal cat?”

“Don’t worry. You’re perfectly safe. She likes you.” Aleksi plucked the cat from Naia’s arms and stroked her head before handing her off to Petya. “Are we off?”

Einar inclined his head respectfully to Aleksi before turning back to Naia. “Petya can show you both to your cabins, if you’d like to settle in.” His eyes lit with that wicked challenge again. “Or you can join me on the quarterdeck.”

A cabin was simply a place to sleep. And since the real excitement on a ship happened everywhere else, Naia intended to spend as little time in hers as possible. She opened her mouth to say so, but Aleksi slid into the silence with a wide grin.

“Oh, there’s plenty of time for all that. I think we’d both rather stay and admire the competence of your crew.” He arched a brow at Naia. “Am I mistaken?”

“No, you’re not.” He was, however, up to something. She could feel it, tickling along the top of her spine like a whisper.

Einar seemed to feel it, as well. But he only waved for them to follow him up a short flight of stairs to the raised quarterdeck. The massive wheel stood proudly, painted ebony and deep green, with each spoke tipped with burnished gold. Einar touched it almost reverently before raising his voice. “All hands, ready to cast off!”

A deep bell pealed, the sound piercing the overcast evening sky. In unison, some members of the crew retracted both gangplanks, while others hauled in the heavy ropes that had been secured to the dock cleats.

“Stand by to make sail!”

The crew melted across the deck, hurrying to man their stations. Petya had been right. There was a rhythm to this, one Naia remembered in her bones, and the Kraken’s crew kept impeccable time.

“I usually coax the ship past the breakwater before I raise the sails,” Einar said. Beneath them, that familiar magic rippled through the ship and out into the bay. He glanced at Naia, his brown eyes snapping with heat—and more challenge. “If you still want to help, you could always ask the seas to be sweet to me.”

The way he said it made it clear he thought she wouldn’t—or even couldn’t. And though she told herself not to take such obvious bait, the idea of letting him think she was too weak to answer his challenge was unbearable.

Or, worse, too timid.

So she closed her eyes and reached out, gathering the attention of the rocking waves. He thinks we can’t, she whispered silently. Would you like to prove him wrong?

The waves surged, and droplets sprang from their surface in an eager spray. The reply vibrated through Naia, no words, just the rumbling, rushing sound of the impatient water.

The vessel shot forward, tripling its speed in the span of a heartbeat. It was reckless to do while still in harbor, but Naia felt every molecule of the bay beneath them and knew the water would carry them safely to the open ocean.

What she hadn’t considered was the fact that Einar was so wholly a part of his ship that he was already in the water. Heat poured through her as her magic met and mingled with his, and her eyes shot open.

Einar stood tall and proud at the wheel of his ship, his strong hands gripping polished wood. But his gaze was locked on hers.

His normally brown eyes had turned blue. Not the clear blue of a summer sky, but a deep, luminescent teal that reminded her of glowing sea creatures. They shimmered with awareness and curiosity, full of promise and all the things only lovers can ever know. Nighttime murmurs and startled laughter and soft, appreciative sighs.

And hunger. That was the heat sliding through her veins, prickling over her skin and making her nipples ache. Out of sheer desperation, she broke eye contact, but her attention merely shifted to his fingers flexing around the handles of the wheel, and that only made things worse. She could feel his hands, sure and determined, sliding down the center of her body. The contact was inevitable, less like a fantasy and more like the memory of something that had already happened.

“Good girl.” Aleksi’s growl broke the spell, and Naia looked at him. He was close, so close, his softly curving mouth only inches from her ear. “Teach him that you’re not to be trifled with.”

“I’m not.” A breath shuddered out of her, but she felt ... bold . Like this moment was a bubble that would burst at anyone else’s careless touch, but not at hers. Never hers. “You’d best not forget that, either, my lord.”

The sea breeze carried his soft laugh off into the night. “Trust me, love. I never do.”