Page 37 of Wicked Sea and Sky

Leaving my bowl untouched, I swam toward the shale table and dug into the sand. It had been more than two years since I’d buried it. The visions it cast were too vivid, and the anguish they caused only dragged me deeper into despair or fueled my anger.

“Just admit it, Marin,” Sirena said. Her voice was low, but a thread of amusement cut through. “None of this is about finding some lost relic. It’s about tasting honey again, isn’t it? Ah, simple pleasures. They’ll motivate you every time.”

I snorted. “You sound like someone I used to know. A thiefwho’d stab you in the back for one of those simple pleasures.”

Sirena dropped her bowl with a muffled thud and leaned forward on her stomach. She peered at me through the bars while idly twirling her fingers through the sand.

“Will you find him when you’re back on land?”

I stopped dead, mid-search, hands still buried in the sand, then whipped my head around to face her. “Absolutely not! I never want to see Gavin Blackwood again.”

“What a shame.” Sirena flopped onto her back with a sigh. “Enemies really do make the greatest lovers.”

“You’re being absurd.”

“Am I? Love and hate can shift with the tide.” She winked. “Want me to keep going?”

“No. Keep your ridiculous sayings to yourself.”

“Fine. I’ll just live vicariously through my next cellmate.”

I clenched my fists in the sand. “You’re getting out of here, too. I’ll only bargain with the queen if she agrees to your release.”

Sirena let out a delighted squeak. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course. I’m not leaving you behind.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Keep searching! Have you checked near your bed? Maybe you hid the pearl by your dreary tally of days.”

“It’s not dreary,” I grumbled, flicking my tail. “Timekeeping is an art.”

Sirena scoffed, and I resumed my search around the kelp bedding. A groan of relief escaped my lips when my fingertips brushed a small, smooth object.

Scooping up the pearl, I rolled it in my palm. The tendrils of magic were already seeping into my skin, clouding everything but the vision materializing behind my eyelids.

But how was I supposed to find the right one?

I tried to focus, channeling the direction of the visions as best I could. One after another, they flashed. I fought against the pull, drowning in memory. None of them were right. With a curse, I dropped the pearl.

“You’ll find it,” Sirena murmured, sliding onto her bed as the anemones extinguished their light.

I lay in the dark, still reeling from the vivid scenes. The first relic I’d ever found, hidden behind a cascading waterfall, flanked by mythical statues. Pride had swelled in my chest as I held it, soaked to the bone and grinning like a fool. Then there was the day I’d met Bowen. He’d sized me up with one raised eyebrow and said I’d be perfect for his crew. Short, but swift. What I lacked in combat skills, I made up for with insight. And sarcasm. Plenty of that.

And then the door to his study had opened, and Gavin strolled in. He’d dropped his pack beside my chair and slumped into the seat next to mine.

“What are the odds, Nichols? Looks like we’re partners this time. Must be fate.”

“Or poor life choices.” I hit him between the eyes with some of my finest sarcasm, earning me one of his, slow, cocky smiles, along with Bowen’s undying approval.

An ache tightened my throat as I rolled onto my side. I thought I could sift through the visions now, and they wouldn’t hurt as much. But seeing my old life, my friends, and especially Gavin, made me realize those wounds that time had scarred over were still raw.

I searched my memory for days, laboring in the mines and returning to the pearl at night. And then finally, just before I gave up and buried it in the sand again for another day, a man’sweathered voice filtered through my mind.

The vision sharpened. I found myself seated in front of a roaring campfire with Gavin and the others. Our supplies had run low, and we’d stopped for the night at a rundown trading post.

An old man who ran one of the supply stalls leaned toward the fire. His voice was a raspy whisper in the night air as he told the tale of an ancient relic he’d once heard of. The golden glow cast flickering shadows across the harsh angles of his face. His tufts of white hair wavered in the breeze.

After traveling for days through a relentless rainstorm, the skies had finally cleared. Our gear was waterlogged, our boots caked with mud, and I longed for a bed that wasn’t hard-packed earth. The fire’s delicious heat seeped into my aching muscles, chasing away the chill buried deep in my bones. The man’s leathery tone made my eyelids heavy. I fought to keep them open, but it was a fight I couldn’t win.