Page 13

Chapter

Ten

“ D aphne Stone,” my sister whisper-yells, making Malachi break away from my lips. Why couldn’t she wait a tempo or two? I’m busy being kissed hello, and I need to give attention to all the Stirlings, so no one gets jealous.

I spin to face my sister, who storms through the library like she’s on a mission. I brace myself for whatever she’s about to say or do.

She opens her arms wide and envelopes me inside of them, burying her head against my shoulder and huffing. I wrap her up in return and bask in the awesomeness of sisterhood. It’s an unbreakable bond. Miles apart, we will always find the other.

“I feared I’d lost you,” she mutters against me.

My hand rubs slow circles on her back. “Never. You should know by now that no ocean or narrative will keep me from you.” My heart swells with love and acceptance that I lack elsewhere. I may have found the Stirlings—or perhaps they found me—but Gwyneth has been with me through thick and thin.

“What is our saying?” she asks as she pulls her head back to stare at me.

“Snacks before chit chat?” This is common sense, but folks need reminding.

She shakes her head. “Try again.”

I gaze at the ceiling and think about the many things that have made up our sister bond over the annuses.

“Dudes are fleeting. Sisters are for keeping?”

“How many sayings do you have?” Malachi wonders.

“Enough for every situation,” Gwyneth says. “Try again, Daphne.”

“Sisters forever?”

She sighs and smiles. “That’s the one.” She grabs my hand and tries to tug me away.

“Wait,” I mumble, stooping to grab my giant knife and fork.

“Is that the trident?” she squeaks.

“If I say yes, are you going to freak out?”

“Yes.”

“Then no, it’s part of a giant matching cutlery set for when I’m presented with a giant sausage.”

She swipes a hand down her face and groans. “Bring your big knife and fork with you. We have much to discuss.”

The sword is much heavier now we are on land, and the trident is impossible, so I drag them along the floor as she leads me down the aisle between the towering shelves of books.

We emerge into the central part of the library, revealing the semi circular desk and a wide-eyed librarian.

“She’s dripping all over my floor,” he snarls.

“And her weapons are leaving scratches in the wood.”

“I’ll mop it later. Right now, I’m taking a break,” she calls out as she gives him a dismissive wave on the way to the corner of the library, the Stirlings stalking behind us.

My nose twitches, igniting a grumbling in my stomach as I spy the most amazing thing and almost fall to my knees in worship.

No seafood in sight. Oh, glorious sausage, my yearning for you has been strong.

I balance my weapons against the wall, next to my original cracked mirror, and breathe a sigh of relief.

Nothing says home like a good sausage. Forget home is where the heart is. My heart is where the sausage is.

“Is she praying to the sausage?” Theo asks.

“Only the worthy get worshipped,” I declare as I snatch a plate and load it with all the deliciousness I can fit on it. Is that cheese? They stepped up their game in the kitchens. Typical that they would do it while I was gone.

They leave me to my food, demonstrating they now comprehend the hierarchy of priorities.

I drop my butt on the armchair, but Theo sweeps me up and carries me over to the sofa, before sitting between Hart and Malachi.

They are dressed in loose white shirts and black breeches with riding boots.

Each and every one of them looks amazing.

Malachi grabs my booted feet and arches a brow at the supple leather.

“For the love of all the Idols, please explain what you are wearing and why,” Theo mutters in my ear as he sweeps his hand down my arm.

I stuff the first bit of sausage into my mouth and sigh as I try to figure out how to explain my last turn in the ocean.

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Gwyneth grumbles. “She’s here, she’s safe, and any explanation attached to that outfit will not enhance my world.”

I munch on more sausage as Gwyneth leans against the table opposite us. Nash joins her and tilts his head at me. “We can leave the explanation,” he decides. My shoulders relax. “Until later. When we are alone.”

My cheeks heat as his gaze darkens in warning.

“Tell us how you escaped,” Malachi says. “Did you persuade Poseidon to release you?”

“Not exactly. There was a crocodile,” I say. Damn, that cheese is good.

“A crocodile?” Theo parrots.

“That’s right. Anyway, he helped me to seduce the Idol, steal his trident, and basically wish myself back here.” Speaking of wishes… I glance around. “Where is the genie?”

“I instructed him to stay with you,” Gwyneth says.

“I forbade him from following me into the Idol’s bedchambers.” Which he needs to thank me for. Otherwise, he would also need a memory spell.

The mirror man emerges in the glass and darts his gaze at everyone. “Put down that female. My mistress David will be mad if you fondle another. One short diurnal, and you forget you possess the fairest of them all. She will never compare.”

I wave at him. “Hey, dude, it’s me.” Aww. My mirror man defended my honor. My chest warms at the thought.

His eyes widen, and he squashes his face against the mirror. There’s snot dripping out of his nose. “Dennie, is that really you?”

“It is.”

He leans back and sneezes onto the inside of the mirror. Snot drips down the surface.

“Are you ill?” Do mirror men get sick?

“No, allergies, I already told you.” That’s right—water. He leans forward and rubs his forehead against the surface before moving in little circles to clear his bodily fluids. It squeaks as the mirror becomes more and more smudged.

“There, that’s better.” It’s not, it’s really, really not. But we let him believe otherwise.

“Do you know where the genie is?”

“No, I haven’t seen the mystical being since our last encounter in the ocean.”

Hmm, that’s odd. Maybe he went to visit relatives or is taking a vacation. Odd timing, but it’s not as if he has to file a request with me, his mistress. Yuck.

“You stole the trident?” Gwyneth whispers with a look at the giant fork.

I wave a hand. “Don’t say it all reverently. Their egos are enormous as it is.”

“The trident and Excalibur possess egos?” Hart asks. It’s the first time he’s spoken since my return, and it does something funny to my stomach.

“The sword in particular, but then again, I only just met the trident, so his personality is in question. Perhaps he’s not an asshole with something to prove. The point is, I took command of both Poseidon and his weapon.” I shudder. “And now I am back.”

“But you are still at the mercy of the legend?” Malachi checks.

“I think so, or I wouldn’t feel a connection to the sword, and the trident would have killed me because apparently, the trident’s power created the sword. Perhaps that’s why it’s all moody and silent. It’s a broody weapon.”

“How mad is Poseidon going to be with you?” Gwyneth asks.

I blink. “I mean, I did as he asked and punished him. He literally said ‘Punish me. I’ve been naughty.’ He can’t be mad at something he begged for.”

Silence. One tempo, two. Someone say something before my mind finds something to wreck.

“That explains the outfit,” Theo drawls as his fingertips skim down my nape and over my spine to the corset.

“But you are still the Lady of the Lake,” Hart checks.

“I doubt she’s morphed into the Lady of the Leather,” Malachi adds with a sly smile. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“My concern,” Gwyneth cuts in, “is Poseidon and his legendary temper. The history books are littered with stories of his wrath for perceived slights.”

“I could just spank him,” I declare. “I doubt he will be a problem.”

Gwyneth shakes her head as Theo’s chest shakes with suppressed laughter. “He might be all into,” she waves her hand up and down, encompassing my body, “whatever this is. But he is, at his core, an arrogant Idol with an ego the size of the ocean. You humiliated and stole from him.”

“One stupid male ruler problem at a time,” I advise. “He’s not at the top of our list, and he’s not beating down our door. We can send the mirror man to check up on him periodically and report back.”

I shove a piece of cheese and sausage in my mouth, and my eyes widen. Wow, that is like a sausage party in my mouth. Malachi snorts.

“I’ve been thinking,” I say after I swallow. “Did you speak with your father? He no longer has the sword, and I’m curious what effect that is having.”

“His rule was already beginning to slip,” Nash says, leaning forward on his knees. “Now it’s falling away fast. The people are seeing the rotten core of his soul and are turning away from him as their leader.”

Gwyneth sighs. “Meaning the narrative is gearing up to force the issue and make a knight worthy to become the new king.”

“But that involves a dead dragon and a dead Lady,” I grumble.

“Neither of which is happening,” Nash adds. Glad we agree on that.

“He’s ignited a realm-wide search for his dagger,” Malachi says with a grin. “But few people care. They are glad his reign is loosening.”

“What happens if he yields the throne, but no one has taken possession of the sword?” I ask.

“If we could truly resist, then I guess our kingdom would descend into lawless chaos.”

That doesn’t sound healthy.

“I’ll be resisting,” Hart mutters with a side-eye at me. I don’t miss the double meaning, but I doubt his sincerity.

“Now that you’re back, we can concentrate on untangling you from this legend,” Gwyneth says. “Before, I had to divide my attention between rescuing you and figuring out how to release you from being the Lady of the Lake.”

“There are enough of us to split the tasks up,” Nash says with a nod.

“Gwyneth, you seem to have a handle on Poseidon.

You are in charge of research and tasking the mirror man with his spying job.

Hart can liaise with our contacts at the castle and keep watch on where our father is looking for the sword.

“Theo, you are in charge of security. I am not enjoying how many people in power are targeting Daphne, directly or indirectly. But your beast has the power to beat most things.”

“And what about me?” I ask.

Nash’s lips lift in a slow smile, and my heart thrashes in my chest. Oh Idols, help me. Or don’t—because I’m certain I will enjoy the brand of darkness in his gaze.

A shiver runs down my spine. “You’re cold?” Theo asks as he pulls me against his chest. He runs hotter than the rest of them, and his heat warms me through. But that’s not why I’m shivering. It’s the wicked look of determination in Nash’s eyes that calls to my soul. I wink at him.

Bring it on, Nash Stirling. I dance with chaos and steal from Idols—I am ready for your darkness. You don’t scare me.