Page 10 of Fate of Echoes and Embers (Heirs of Elydor #3)

MAREK

As the first rays of light hit the horizon, the Veiled Sea’s shades of amber and pale pink reflected off the calm water like a polished mirror. It was the kind of sea a human would curse, but I was no human and our ship sailed smoothly along the current I’d created.

Without realizing it, I’d slipped my hand into my pocket, pulling on a leather string.

Tugging, the string uncoiled, its treasure was revealed.

A noise below caught my attention as long shadows loomed across the deck where Isolde had been standing the night before with Mev and Kael.

Laughing in a way I’d only seen her do years ago.

Would she ever laugh again that way with me?

Mist began to rise from the water as the night’s chill started to lift. The air was crisp, carrying the promise of warmth. I watched as Kael climbed upward, toward me.

“Did you sleep up here?”

I tightened my fingers, fisting the artifact within.

“Without a crew? Aye.”

Kael leaned against the rail, looking out to sea. “I know you’re reluctant to bring a crew into the Depths, but wouldn’t having one be easier on the journey there?”

Shrugging, I swept away the melancholy that threatened to pull me under as sure as the Depths themselves. Planting a smile on my face, I sighed. “Perhaps. But there is not one on my crew who would agree to remain on land as Tidechaser enters the Depths. I would not put their lives at risk for…”

“For the good of Elydor? It seems enough of an incentive for you.”

I didn’t respond. My reasons for accepting this mission were many.

“She told us. How you met.”

I sighed again. “You are ruining an otherwise pleasurable sunrise. I have a rule. No speaking on the quarterdeck until the sun is fully risen.”

“That isn’t a rule, Marek. We’ve spoken nearly every morning on the voyage to Thalassaria and since returning north.”

“It is a new rule,” I countered, flicking my wrist and veering the ship slightly east. Standing straighter, I peered over the starboard side of the ship. Kael joined me.

“I don’t see anything.”

“You’d make a terrible Thalassari sailor.”

“Perhaps because I’m not one? Nor do I wish to be.”

“Gyorians,” I muttered, pointing. “Do you see that blue glow? Beneath the waves? Look closely.”

Kael squinted. Knowing he couldn’t see it, with another flick of my wrist, I calmed the waters, temporarily, in that area. The telltale blue was easier to spot. Even so, Kael appeared confused.

“Have you ever sailed before?” I teased.

“Only when I could not avoid it,” the land-lover admitted.

“Surely you’ve heard of veilborn?”

Kael’s eyes widened. I turned back toward the sea as we sailed past, ensuring the blue glow beneath the surface didn’t follow us. Confident we’d left it in its wake, I concentrated on the horizon once again.

“They are real?”

“Quite real. Although I will admit, to see one in these waters is highly unusual. As you should know, they are more typically spotted off the Gyorian coast.”

“Never seen one myself.”

“With good reason. Their bioluminescence makes them appear almost translucent. That eerie blue beneath the water is usually your only warning a nasty sea serpent is about to strike. I’ve seen one split a longboat clean in two with its jaws.”

“I suppose they are agents of the Abyss as well?”

Sunlight filled the deck now, though neither Mev nor Issa stirred. “The Abyss,” I scoffed. “You believe in such things?”

Kael’s brows raised. “Do you not believe in Thalassa?”

“Or Zephra? Or your god, Terranor?” I asked, skeptical. “Were they not all one before Elydor split into three clans? Convenient of them to wait for such an occurrence before making themselves known.”

“So you don’t believe in the Elydorian gods and goddesses. What do you believe in, Marek?”

I gave him a sidelong look. “Myself.”

Kael tsked. “A dangerous proposition. Bearing the full weight of your choices may lead to reckless decisions.”

“Many of which I’ve made already.”

“Was abandoning Isolde one of them?”

Aware he and Issa were good friends, I needed to tread carefully. “Of course,” I said, gripping the wheel even though it wasn’t necessary. I’d been taught to sail by a human, a deliberate decision by my father. Later, as my magic grew, I questioned the decision until I understood its purpose.

Kael refrained from prodding me for more. For that reason, I offered the full truth. “I was foolish. We grew close, given the short time I remained at Hawthorne Manor. I’d convinced myself I was sparing her, aware of a growing sentiment between us.”

He said nothing. Convincing myself it mattered little what Kael believed—of me, of the situation—I remained silent as well.

Needing validation from anyone besides myself would only lead to disappointment.

Besides, what could he say? Immortals and humans did not partner well together.

Willingly loving someone, knowing you would experience their death was foolish, in my opinion.

I’d met few immortals who didn’t, at some point, regret the decision.

It wasn’t that we never felt the pain of loss.

My mother, for example. It was just easier to avoid the situation altogether, if possible.

Especially when the human in question was as kind and compassionate as Issa.

And the immortal was a corsair who lived on the wrong side of the law.

“I never planned for Mevlida.”

As the ship swayed gently from side to side, the water near perfect even without my guidance, I waited for the Gyorian prince to continue.

In some ways, he was as rumor suggested.

Pragmatic. Direct. But there was a thoughtfulness to him I hadn’t expected.

Not from a Gyorian, and certainly not from King Balthor’s son.

“Sometimes,” he explained, “the things we don’t plan for are the ones that change us the most.”

I thought on his words while Kael headed back down, below deck.

As I’d done hundreds, if not thousands of times, my thoughts drifted back to my mother.

I hadn’t planned to lose her, especially not to drowning.

A Thalassarian? An experienced pearl diver?

It was unheard of. I hadn’t planned to grow up learning that love was something you could drown in, something that could slip beneath the waves and never return.

So aye, I agreed with him, that things we never planned for could change us the most.

* * *

If there was one thing I could rely on during my time at Hawthorne Manor, it was Issa stalking the halls before daybreak, checking in with her commander and steward, ensuring all was well.

So when she never appeared on deck to break her fast, I began to worry.

Mev and Kael had returned to their cabin after eating so I was loathe to disturb them.

But now that I stood in front of the captain’s quarters, I reconsidered fetching Mev.

By the tides, Marek. Just knock. Ensure she’s well.

I did. No response.

Any number of things could go wrong with humans.

I imagined her having fallen from the bed.

Or a sudden illness plaguing her in the night.

Pushing open the door, I was greeted by darkness.

Knowing my way in this space, I moved toward the desk, felt for the moonstone and allowed my energy to flow into it.

Whipping it toward the bed, an astonishing sight greeted me.

Issa was sprawled out, one arm above her head, as if cradling it. She was fast asleep; my knock and subsequent entry into the cabin, along with the glowing moonstone, had not disturbed her. For a woman who woke before the sun each day, it was a remarkable display of slumber.

So often, she wore her hair back, off her face.

But those wavy tendrils always managed to find a way to escape.

Now, however, her hair was loose. Her full lips, slightly parted.

Her eyes slowly opened, as if sensing my presence.

I expected her to sit up, curse my presence, or at least question it.

Instead, she simply looked at me as if I belonged in the cabin, watching her sleep.

Which, of course, I did not.

“I assume there is a reason you’re here?”

“You are calmer than I would have expected, to find me hovering over you in your cabin.”

“Your cabin,” she corrected. Issa pulled the coverlet toward her chin, rolled to face me, but otherwise, remained.

“Not for this voyage.” I replaced the moonstone in its wooden holder. “I remembered how early you woke at Hawthorne and became concerned.”

“Has the sun risen?”

I laughed. “Some time ago. I broke my fast with Kael and Mev and… decided to ensure you were well. You did not stir when I knocked.”

Issa sighed. “I had some difficulty falling asleep last eve. But when I did… I suppose the motion forced me into a deeper sleep than usual, as you are correct. I am an early riser. There is much to be done… normally.”

The burden of running a border estate was not lost on me. “You are free here to do as you please. Including sleeping all day, if you’d like.”

“I confess, such a thing would not normally tempt me, but there is something about being on your ship…”

Without asking, knowing how she might respond, I pulled out the wooden chair from my desk and sat on it, facing her. “Sailing agrees with you.”

“I suppose it might.”

She had wanted me to take her sailing, and I’d agreed. Stupidly, I’d agreed and woven tales about all of the places we could go. That was the night before I left. The night I realized what was happening. That I was making future plans with a woman who could never be mine.

“You told me once you wished to sail the whole of Elydor.”

We had been sitting before the hearth in Hawthorne’s hall, a game of chess underfoot. One that, if I recall, was never finished.

“I did not think to do it like this.”

“How did you imagine it?” I wasn’t certain if Issa took our “re-introduction” to heart or if she was not awake enough to remember to glare at me this morn, but I was thankful for it.

She tucked the seasilk pillow under her head. “I thought it would be more akin to sleeping under the stars. Beautiful yet uncomfortable.”

I smiled. “Are you certain there is not Thalassari in your blood?”

“Quite certain. I am as human as any in Estmere.”

Human, and not immortal. The idea of watching Issa growing old, an inevitable illness as age’s companion, was enough to make my stomach roil. Against my will, I imagined her in that bed, sickness overcoming her. Watching Issa die. I simply could not do it. And yet…

“I could take you. If I survive the Depths, that is.”

“Marek—”

I tossed up my hands in surrender. “Forgive me. Pretend I did not say it.”

“Promises you will not keep. Or this death wish that you seem to have. Which shall I forget first?”

“Gods, Issa. You wound me. I do not have a death wish, just a very, very concerning lack of self-preservation.”

Thankfully, her smile returned.

“I believe another ‘very’ may be in order.”

“Two are not enough?”

“Where you are concerned? Nay. Besides, even if I wished to, you know well I cannot.”

That was wholly untrue. Issa simply believed it to be so. “Will not. There is a difference.”

“Hawthorne Manor?—”

“Was your parents’ dream.” I had an uncanny knack for finding ways to make Issa angry with me, even as I began to chip away at her defenses. “Was it not?”

Her eyes narrowed. She could not deny it; the words were her own, given on that very same night an unfinished game of chess led to our first, and only, kiss.

“My parents’ dream is my own.”

“Nay, yours is to sail Elydor and beyond. Yours is a call to adventure, Isolde.”

I was naught if not consistent but my honesty did nothing to improve her mood.

“Sometimes, we sacrifice for those we love. I am certain the concept eludes you, otherwise I would elaborate.”

I clutched my chest, as if taking an arrow to the heart. “You wound me, Issa. Neither sacrifice nor love are concepts I am unfamiliar with.” I held up a hand to forestall the argument she would make. “I did not say I agree with either, but I am familiar with both.”

Rolling her eyes, Issa shook her head as if to dismiss me. But I would not be so easily dismissed.

“A sacrifice implies you are giving something up, does it not?”

“I believe it is time for me to get up.”

“Convenient, but as my lady wishes.” I stood and replaced the chair. “A meal of bread and cheese awaits you in the tidehall. The sea is cooperating today, if you would like to sail.”

“You would allow me to sail your ship?”

I would allow you to do anything you wished, Issa, if it would put a smile back on your face.

Knowing I was the cause of her current state of displeasure did little to erase the memory of the Issa I first met. The one who happily showed me her home, introduced me to her people. The joy I took in her own was a feeling I remembered so distinctly, I could recall it easily.

“Of course. I await my lady’s pleasure.” I bowed. “If you need anything at all, you know where to find me.”

“Marek.” She stopped me as I stood and turned to leave.

I closed my eyes before facing her. That voice had haunted my dreams, but this was no dream. Isolde was very, very real. With more very’s than my lack of preservation.

“Do not make promises, again, you do not intend to keep. It was that very thing that nearly broke me when you left.”

The immediate reply I thought to offer stuck in my throat.

What was worse? Knowing I had done that which she accused me of? Or “nearly breaking” a woman as strong and unbreakable as Isolde?

Both.

The answer was both.

I bowed my head in deference, sighed, and lifted it. “My mother will take me to join her if I do so again, Issa.”

This time, when she called my name, I did not turn back.