Page 27

27

ROWAN

It had been three days since Nerys walked out of my chamber. Three days of not hearing her voice. Seeing her smile. Finding ways to touch her or kiss her.

Three days of torture.

Making matters worse, my new escort, undoubtedly a spy for the queen, refused to bring me to the Deep Archives as Nerithia’s note suggested I do. I’d asked the stern-faced guard who had informed me that first day he “had other duties to attend to.” I’d also tried to get a message to Caelum, but thus far, I hadn’t seen or heard from him. On the rare occasion my guard deemed me worthy to take a meal outside my chamber, I listened and watched, though my restricted movements uncovered little.

I’d considered requesting an audience with the queen, but since she’d made her presence scarce, and as far as I knew was leaving Nerys alone, I thought it best to leave it alone. I had had only one vision: yesterday as I returned to my chamber after the evening meal, but it was not of Thalassaria. At first, I thought the vision was of Kael, but when the man raised his head, speaking to someone, I realized it was his twin, Terran. The someone was his father, and the two argued. When Terran turned and walked away, the King of Gyoria called his son back, but Terran did not reply. Instead, he slammed the door on what appeared to be a throne room.

My grandfather had told his protégés, including me, that over time, it was possible to sense when the visions might take place. He said it was a feeling, one he could not teach but that The Keeper would need to learn to recognize. Thus far, I could not determine if my visions were of that very day or years into the future, making one such as an argument between the King of Gyoria and his successor less useful.

I stretched my legs out on the bed, prepared for sleep but unable to let it take me. Instead, I considered the note from Nerithia, one that was short but clear.

Go to the Deep Archives. Find Seren.

Having promised Nerys to remain in the palace to learn what I could of the queen’s intentions, I had no choice but to rely on a guard who clearly disliked me at best, and who was actively working against Nerys at worst. Getting to the Deep Archives any time soon was seemingly less possible each day.

A knock on the door, at this hour, surprised me. I was even more surprised to see it open with Marek slipping inside.

“Has something happened?” I asked, every part of me suddenly prepared for battle.

“More than one something, but Nerys is fine,” Marek said. “Caelum is with her.” His eyes narrowed knowingly. “Humans and immortals rarely partner well together.”

I could deny the thought had crossed my mind, but the denial would be hollow. I could hear the panic in my own voice, and undoubtedly Marek did as well.

“No,” I agreed. “They do not.”

Seemingly satisfied with my concurrence, he asked, “Caelum said you need to get to the Deep Archives?”

I was surprised the guard had told him. “He received my message?”

“He did, and would have come himself.” Marek grinned. “But knows I can get you there unseen. Let’s go.”

“Now?”

“Would you prefer I come back in the morn for your new escort to discover you missing?”

This would not work. “I need to… speak with someone there. Breaking into the Deep Archives will do me little good at this time of night.”

Marek crossed his arms. “Who said we were breaking in? And who do you need to speak with? I assumed this related to Nerys?”

As much as I wished to follow Nerithia’s instructions, I couldn’t lie to Marek any more than I had already. “It does not.”

If he was suspicious before, Marek was even more so now. “You won’t tell me the reason you wish to go there? Or who you must speak to?”

I thought quickly, weighing my options. This was likely the only opportunity, at least until after the festival, for me to get there. And while I could not tell Marek the reason, if there was any chance I could find this Seren, it was with him.

Give something to get something.

It was one of the first things I learned, being a human spy among immortals and finding myself in situations such as these.

“The mist?”

With a reluctant flick of his hand, as effortless as Nerys, Marek filled my chamber with a silencing mist. I waited for it to settle.

“Though it doesn’t relate directly to Nerys, getting there may be important in helping us to open the Gate.” If I had any other choice, I wouldn’t continue. But fully trusting Marek was not a luxury I could afford. “In addition to the Tidal Pearl, both the Wind Crystal and Stone of Mor’Vallis are needed. As we stand here, there is an attempt to recover both from King Balthor. I don’t know if speaking to this Seren will help achieve that goal, but it’s possible, and I intend to capitalize on any possibility to help the king and princess of Aetheria reunite Elydor with the human realm once again.”

During my speech, Marek leaned against the door as casually as if he had all the time in the world, his sharp eyes betraying an alertness that made it clear he missed nothing.

“It is Nerys’s wish, as it is mine and all humans’,” I continued, “to see the Gate reopened. Our contributions to Elydor are everywhere, and the cruelty of cutting ties with families who’ve waited nearly thirty years to be reunited, something I seek to rectify.”

“I also believe it should be reopened. As do all who recognize the value of humans. But your timing sucks. I also fail to see how finding this… Seren… will help achieve such a goal.”

My shoulders fell. “So you’ve not heard of her? Or him?”

Marek’s lopsided grin was my answer. “Her. I’ll admit to not spending much time at the Archives. Or reading any books, for that matter. But I know of Seren.”

That, I believed.

“Get dressed.”

He was taking me, and I wouldn’t waste the opportunity.

It was only after we slipped from my chamber, through empty corridors and secret pathways which spilled onto the beach, that we spoke again.

“A secret entrance?”

“One few know of and ever fewer use. Be careful where you step.”

We made our way around a rocky outcropping. The shore was nestled between towering cliffs with foliage spilling over its edges, creating a canopy of green that obscured the view from above. Hidden in a cove, a sleek and compact vessel. Tidechaser .

Wading through shallow waters, Marek approached the ship, reaching for a thick, weathered rope. He pulled it, revealing a small, retractable gangplank that extended from Tidechaser’s side.

Climbing aboard, I took in the ship’s polished wooden hull and its gleaming deep mahogany, reinforced with riveted steel accents along the bow and stern. The single mast carried a striking sail of midnight blue, emblazoned with the crest of Thalassaria: a swirling wave encircling a crescent moon.

“Do you need that?” I asked as we pushed off, pointing to the ship’s sail.

“No,” Marek said, placing his hands on the helm, fingers splayed against the wood. Something passed from him into the ship itself as the faintest hum beneath my feet made it feel as though the vessel had come alive.

The water around us began to churn, Tidechaser gliding forward smoothly, the sail slack despite our steady movement.

“I can guide her with the currents,” Marek explained. “But the sail keeps up appearances. No one questions a ship traveling with the wind, especially near Estmere’s shores.”

I watched, fascinated, as the tide shifted beneath us, subtle swells forming to cradle Tidechaser and propel her forward. “You’re not steering the ship,” I said. “You’re steering the sea.”

Marek smirked, his gaze fixed ahead. “You’re catching on.”

I’d seen remarkable feats during my lifetime. Land split open, the strength of a Gyorian unmatched. The whispers of those Aetherians who could manipulate sound waves to speak over long distances always amazed me. But having spent more time in Thalassaria on this mission than any other time in my short life, it was with them I felt the most kinship. It was their abilities that, to me, were the most awe-inspiring. The ability to control an ocean. What could be more powerful than that?

I glanced at Marek, at ease in his position, clearly enjoying every moment, this trip to the Deep Archives one he could likely do with his eyes closed.

He winked at me, a gesture of comradeship. Of acceptance.

What was more powerful than control of the tides? The bond between two people, whether it be friendship or something more. That was the true life force, one I’d been willing to forgo for the sake of duty to the Harrow legacy.

But that was before coming here. The thought of leaving this place? Leaving Nerys?

I closed my eyes, willing my mind to quiet…

Willing my heart to forget.