Page 2 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea (Avalore Chronicles #1)

Chapter two

T he morning broke bright and clear, as though the sky were apologizing for the storms of the night.

Arick enjoyed his stroll along the cobblestone streets of the waking city as he made his way to the castle.

He followed the harbor road, keeping an ear open for any reports of lost ships, but any grieving was being done behind closed doors.

The steward showed him directly to the king’s private sitting room, where the barrel-chested king was washing down his breakfast with a massive pot of tea. Thomas grinned up at him from the opposite side of the table, his dog at his feet.

“Arick, lad! Thomas said you’d arrived. Beat the storms. Why aren’t you staying at the castle?” He motioned for Arick to sit down and slurped his tea. “Bring another cup for the lad,” he shouted at the steward.

Arick smiled at his uncle’s exuberance. As a child, he’d loved hearing him recount tales of battles and bravery. “Hullo, Uncle Craig. I wanted the chance to visit with Elsbeth at the inn,” he said in response to the king’s question.

“Ah, yes, and how is herself?”

“I fear her age is catching up to her, not that she’d let me see.” He joined them at the table and accepted a cup of tea with a nod of thanks.

“No, of course not. Let me know if she needs anything.”

“I will, thank you,” Arick said. Elsbeth was like a grandmother to him, and it saddened him to notice the faint signs of aging on her face and in her mannerisms.

“Now that you’re here, I’ve got a task for you,” the king said, around a bite of breakfast, ignoring the crumbs that fell on his doublet.

“Of course, sir,” Arick responded, curious. Thomas squirmed.

“We’re planning a little something different for Thomas’s birthday in two days. Now that you’re ready to become a naval officer, I think this is right in your wheelhouse.”

Arick nodded, wondering what his uncle meant by that. But more, he was wondering why Thomas wouldn’t look at him.

The king outlined more about the party, reassuring Arick that he wasn’t in charge of counting spoons or ordering hors d’oeuvres.

“Thomas will take you to the, uh…venue. Are you ready to go, Thomas?”

“I need my coat.” Thomas shoved his seat back.

“Well, run and do that.”

“Da…you promised.” Thomas hopped on one foot.

The king waved his hand at him. “Yes, yes, I won’t tell.”

Thomas’s face stretched in a grin as he ran out of the room. Arick relaxed slightly. Thomas wasn’t upset with him. He helped himself to a muffin.

“There’s something else I want you to pay attention to while you’re here.” The king grew serious and leaned forward. “These storms, there’s something uncanny about them.”

“The one last night was much worse than any I remember as a child,” Arick agreed.

“We’d generally get one or two like that, but I worry that they’ve started so early in the season,” the king said.

“Have many been lost?” Arick’s stomach turned, thinking of the men he’d seen headed for the rocks below the lighthouse.

The king shook his head. “Two ships have been lost with all their crew. They were outside the harbor, but still — two too many.”

Arick pushed his plate away, the muffin half-eaten. “What about last night? Thomas and I saw some in peril.”

“Aye, Thomas told me. I had guards check the shore this morning. A lifeboat was on the beach, but no dead.”

Arick breathed a prayer of thanks.

The king cleared his throat. “I’d like you to do some investigating and see what you can come up with.”

“Sir, don’t you have advisers for that?”

“Bah, they’re either in denial about the risk of more storms or they blame Cliodna.” The chair creaked under his weight as he jerked upright.

“Cliodna? You mean the…”

“Yes, the mythical spirit that supposedly controls the sea.” The king shook his head at the thought but sent him on his way without elaborating further.

Arick pondered the idea as he and Thomas made their way to the docks. A mythical being controlling the storms was nonsense. The Creator was the one who controlled all of nature. And yet…

A shadow fell over him, causing him to glance up. All at once, the king’s first request made sense.

“Surprise!” Thomas gloated. His small sheltie, Cookie, yipped in agreement, dancing around them.

With a laugh, Arick returned his cousin’s hug. “Hardly my surprise though — it’s your birthday present.”

“Yes, but I’ve known about it for ages. It’s more fun to surprise you.”

The ship before them was a sailor’s delight — long and sleek, with a foredeck that was designed as a floating ballroom. The yacht could host at least a hundred people yet manage the high seas for a day cruise.

Arick was in love.

The naval vessels he served on were far more utilitarian, and even the cargo ships were designed for one purpose — and it certainly wasn’t for comfort.

Councilman MacIsaac joined them, bowing to both of them, though it seemed as though he bowed lower to Arick than to Thomas, his prince. He was a small man, mean of appearance and broad of mustache, and Arick took an instant dislike to him.

“His Majesty informed me that you would be taking point for His Highness’s birthday gala.” MacIsaac’s tone implied he did not think the change of command was necessary.

“The seafaring aspect only. I have no interest in taking over. I’m certain you have put a lot of effort into the celebrations, and there’s no need to start changing things now,” Arick assured him.

MacIsaac gave him a calculating look, but he let the matter drop.

They climbed the gangway — wider and with sturdier railings than normal — and met Captain Blair, a pleasant, trim fellow who was the kind of man who could be both effusive host and rigid leader as the need arose.

MacIsaac immediately bombarded Blair with questions, some quite unnecessary or ridiculous, in Arick’s opinion.

The captain could no more promise good weather than he could wish for it to rain gold.

And there was little reason for MacIsaac to query the number of guests that could fit onboard — surely the councilman already knew that information.

Too excited to wait for the captain to give Arick a proper tour, Thomas led the way, jabbering about the various aspects of the ship.

Arick followed him. He’d ask the captain technical things later.

For now, he tried to take in all the details, from the hand-carved railings to the elevated platform for the musical ensembles and the polished floor that could be removed and stored safely when a ball wasn’t in progress.

“This is my favorite part,” Thomas said, guiding him down a level to a large space that had been closed off from the rest of the deck. Cookie ran around the sparsely finished room, sniffing everything. Thomas opened a set of French doors on the side of the ship with a flourish.

Arick stepped out onto the small balcony and looked around. There were no railings, only two guide wires holding the edge of the balcony to the ship.

“It’s a swimming platform.” Thomas pressed his hands together, as if trying to contain his glee. “See, you can dive from here, and there’s the ladder to get back up.”

“And these wires?” Arick held onto one to steady himself as he peered over the edge.

Thomas sighed. “Da didn’t like the look of it with a full balcony, and the shipwright gave some boring explanation. So the platform has to fold up when we’re not using it. See, it tucks into the doorway, here. It blocks the bottom half of the door, and you can still see out the top windows.”

Arick studied the neat little system that worked the moving floor.

The workmanship was impressive to have made it fit so well and not look out of place when closed.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, testing the give of the platform.

Despite everything, it had little movement, just enough springiness to be perfect for diving.

From inside the ship, footsteps and murmured conversation drew closer.

“I know what I saw,” a gruff voice said from somewhere behind them.

“You’re off your head if you think you’re seeing mermaids,” another retorted.

Arick stilled. He hadn’t heard anyone speak of mermaids since Daniel…

E ven deep beneath the waves, the early morning sun brought hope and beauty after the storm. Dappled light filtered through the waves, changing the colors of the underwater flora and turning Sorcha’s shelf of bric-a-brac into a glittering collection.

She turned the piece of malachite so it better caught the light, then picked up a jar that held jewelry she’d found on the ocean floor.

The gold and silver had tarnished from the saltwater, but the gems still shone.

Her favorite, a heart-shaped sapphire set in silver latticework, shimmered a pale blue.

She fished it out and slipped it over her head.

The faded ribbon was wearing thin, and she freed her hair as gently as she could.

Turning the jar in the light, she pondered what her Aunt Maeve had said about how the humans didn’t have their own magic. Instead, she’d told her, they imbued gemstones with it. Were any of her collection magical? Sorcha couldn’t help but wonder.

“Morning,” Ciara said as she poked her head through the opening to Sorcha’s cubbyhole. “A ship sank last night. Want to go take a look?”

Sorcha shivered. “Not until the Watchers have cleared it.”

Ciara tugged her hand, pulling her from the tiny cave. All traces of the argument from the night before were hidden behind a teasing smile. “Are you a cuttlefish?”

Sorcha shook her head firmly. “No, but I’d rather not come across a dead human, thank you very much.” One already this season was quite enough.

“They can’t lure you to shore if they’re dead.” Ciara rolled her eyes. “Come on. You’ve been cooped up for weeks. Time to have some fun.”

“I promised Aunt Maeve I’d help her in the infirmary today.”

“You can help her later.”