Page 20 of Fate of Echoes and Embers (Heirs of Elydor #3)

ISSA

I’d never felt magic like this before.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I felt the beat of my heart beneath my chest. Marek was beside me, either having taken over the wheel or ensuring I remained safe, I wasn’t sure.

It wasn’t just powerful; that was not the most unusual thing about this magic. Typically, when magic was close, it cascaded through my senses, but not this. This was like a crash, sudden and… unnatural.

How to describe it?

I opened my eyes. Marek was so close, I could hear his breath, even over the wind that had suddenly picked up.

“Issa, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“This magic is so sudden, as if it were dormant and then just…”

I looked out to the sea. Nothing seemed amiss. But it was.

“You sense magic near?” Marek asked. “Maybe a pelagor? I’ve not seen one but?—”

“No.” I shook my head. “I can differentiate between different… types of magic. It is unlike any other I’ve ever sensed before. As if something…” I tried to grasp it once again, but the feeling was gone. “Awoke.”

It was the only way I could describe it.

Marek took the wheel. He could have used magic to steer the ship, but I understood why he did not. There was something comforting about it. A false sense of control, perhaps?

Moments ago, I’d have shoved him off the side of the ship, if I could have managed it, if for no other reason than verbalizing the truth. I had been jealous, unreasonably so. But it was uncharitable of him to say it, not that proper decorum was high on Marek’s list of attributes.

But now, the way he looked at me, his eyes full of concern… I could easily fall back into his arms, and that was precisely the problem.

“Mev,” I whispered.

Marek saw her at the same time as me, racing toward us with Kael on her heels. They scrambled up to the quarterdeck, which became quickly crowded.

“Lyra,” she blurted, “just whispered to me.”

“Out here?” I asked. Though skilled Aetherian whisperers could communicate the length of Elydor, it was still a surprise their whispers could travel across the sea.

She cupped both hands over her mouth, as if still processing what had happened. Moving them to her cheeks, Mev appeared as surprised as I was at the communication.

“Lyra was the first one to teach me how to whisper,” she said, dropping her hands. “Maybe that’s the reason… I don’t know.”

“Tell them,” Kael prompted.

“Rowan sent word to her, hoping she could get to me. He had a vision.”

I didn’t believe in coincidences. Though the feeling of a powerful, dormant, magic was gone, it must have been related.

“It was disjointed,” she said, lifting her hand into the air, as if not even realizing she was doing it. With one flick of her wrist, the sails caught a stronger wind and Tidechaser moved more quickly through the water.

Marek and I exchanged a glance, likely thinking the same thing. Mev manipulated the air as if she’d been born in Elydor, raised to wield it.

“Mev… the Depths… they remember. Not safe. Not meant to be disturbed. Tell them.”

Kael cleared his throat. “I believe you left something out?”

She stared blankly at him, as if trying to remember. “Oh, yes.” Mev made a face, as if it were painful to repeat the next words. “A sacrifice must be made…”

She looked at Marek. We all did.

He shrugged. “I’ve no notion of what that means.”

“I felt something,” I said. “Just before you came up here. A magical presence unlike anything I’ve felt before.”

“Unlike anything?” Kael asked. “How so? Stronger?”

“Maybe,” I admitted, unsure how to put it into words. “But more than that. The awareness of it began differently. It was as if something… awoke from a slumber. It slammed into me, making its presence known, and as quickly as it came, it was gone.”

“A sea animal, perhaps?”

“I said the same,” Marek admitted as I shook my head.

“Wait.” Mev leaned against the rail, into Kael’s side. It was still strange to see him, my friend but always the stalwart Gyorian prince, this way. She had changed him. In a good way.

“Technically, everything in Elydor is imbued with magic. So every animal… actually, every Elydorian… do you sense them all?”

“No, not any longer. Before I was trained, aye. To an extent. Maybe like when you sense another’s intention?—”

“Ahh, I get it. I only feel it when I open myself up to receiving it. Or when it’s so strong, I have no choice but to notice. It’s been like that from the start.”

“Without training?”

“Right. No training. My mother is a psychic. It’s what led her to The Crooked Key in the first place, I assume: whisperings of a secret portal among the magical community.

But me? Nothing. Nada. At least, not until I came here.

It came on gradually but, no. There was never any training involved.

At least, not with my human abilities. Anyway, tell us more about what you felt. ”

“It was dark,” I blurted, realizing I had not mentioned that.

“Dark magic?” Marek asked.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never sensed dark magic, that I know of.”

“Not surprising,” Kael explained to Mev, “it’s extremely rare.”

Unfortunately, I had nothing else to offer.

I began to pace, thinking back to Rowan’s vision, or what we had of it, at least. “The Depths remember. Not safe. Not meant to be disturbed. A sacrifice must be made. Do you think… could the magic I felt be the Depths themselves, somehow? The two must be related.”

“You said there are all sorts of stories about the Maelstrom Depths,” Mev said to Marek. “But that the most likely spoke of a living force that does not forget. Does not forgive. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Oldest story, but perhaps most likely too.” Marek nodded toward the ship’s wheel, stepping aside.

I took it, thankful to have something useful to do.

“So that tracks with Rowan’s message,” Mev said.

All three of us looked at her, confused.

“Sorry. That… makes sense. You felt as if something, maybe dark, came alive. And legend speaks of the Depths as if they are alive. ‘They remember. They require a sacrifice.’ It must all be related.”

“Marek,” I said quietly, knowing what I did about his mother’s death. “Where does one learn more about them?”

His brows arched. “Sailors’ journals, like the one we acquired. Oral history. I’ve asked Nerys to research The Deep Archives for information on the Depths and other underwater disturbances like it. But thus far, very little information has been useful.”

Our group fell silent.

Marek’s mission was dangerous before. But this? He would not survive those Depths. Of that I had no doubt. We couldn’t let him go into them. Not like this.

Mev straightened, her gaze sharpening with realization. “Then we need more than old sailors’ journals and fragmented myths. Kael and I will scour The Luminara for information. We need to figure this out before you retrieve the Wind Crystal, Marek.”

Kael nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Those vaults house the oldest records in Aetheria. If there’s any written account of what dwells in the Maelstrom Depths, it would be there.”

Marek rolled his eyes playfully, bringing a much-needed lightness back to the conversation. “Aetherians and their books.”

“I agree,” I said, running my fingers along the wheel’s smooth, time-worn wood. The ship swayed beneath me, steady despite the storm of uncertainty brewing in my mind. My grip tightened… not to steer, but to ground myself.

“Then it is settled.” Mev pushed off the rail and headed back down to the main deck, Kael falling in step beside her.

“Where are you going?” I asked, curious.

Mev tossed a grin over her shoulder. “To make sure we don’t all starve. Unless you’d rather survive on Marek’s questionable stash of dried fish?”

They were gone before he could reply.

Marek moved toward me, his presence solid and sure. I breathed in his scent of salt and sun-warmed leather. He didn’t speak at first, just rested a hand on the wheel beside mine, his fingers brushing my knuckles as he adjusted our course.

“The wind’s shifting,” he murmured near my ear. “Feel that?”

I did. A subtle but distinct change in pressure, the sails catching at a different angle. I nodded as his other hand came to rest at the small of my back.

“Steady,” he said, his voice a shade rougher now. “You’re compensating too much.”

I hadn’t realized I was. The ship’s movement was instinctive to him, but to me, it still felt like an untamed thing, responding too easily to my slightest shift.

He exhaled, a near-silent chuckle. “You’re fighting her.”

I tipped my chin up at him, half in challenge. “Then show me how not to.”

His fingers curled over mine on the wheel, adjusting my grip. The touch was jolting, but not in the least undesirable, despite the fact that this was Marek, a man I’d been cursing most days for years.

“Don’t force her, sereia. Let the ship tell you where she wants to go, then guide her there. Not too much, not too little. Just enough.”

His words were low, deliberate, sending a different kind of awareness curling through me.

I swallowed. “Like this?”

His chest brushed my back as we moved with the ship’s subtle sway. “Better. Now, what were we talking about before that strange turn of events? Ahh, yes. I remember now. Us.”

Us. Me being jealous of Cassandra. My tumultuous thoughts that ranged from anger to gratitude to bitterness to desire.

“I’d prefer to talk about something else.”

He waited until I locked eyes with him before responding. “I’d prefer not to talk at all.”

His meaning was clear. But instead of scolding him, as I should, my gaze fell to his lips, remembering. His lips parted, inviting.

Damn him to the Depths. After everything, I still wanted to kiss him.