Page 33

Marin

No lights flickered inside the manor as I dragged our gear up the front steps.

“Figures he makes me do the shopping and carry the bags,” I muttered, brushing the hair off my damp neck and peering into the darkened window.

No sign of life. The metal timepiece I dug out of my bag said it was a little after nine o’clock.

That was early by revelry standards, but seeing how we planned to climb a massive vine into the sky in a few hours, I thought he might at least try to get some sleep.

Lifting my lantern, I reached for the door handle, only to find it locked.

Did he expect me to break in? Maybe climb the trellis to an open second-story window?

My hands fisted on my hips as I searched the wide wraparound porch and found a rock perched on the wooden rail.

A piece of paper was trapped underneath, the edges fluttering softly in the night air.

Another note. We were making a habit of shorthand correspondence.

I unfolded the paper and found a small metal object tucked between the page.

In case you make it home before I do, I made you a key. -Ga v

I held the key in my palm, warming the metal against my skin.

Gavin had used copper wire to create an intricate cage around a piece of sea glass, then tied the wire to a leather cord he’d looped through the top of the key.

Smiling softly, I ran my finger along the wire, tracing it to the smooth edge of the glass.

Home.

I read the note again, trying to ignore the pang of longing and the flutter of want inside my chest. How could something as simple as a key feel like the world’s greatest treasure?

A metal more precious than gold.

But that was fanciful thinking. This was a gift of practicality wrapped with a teasing bow to spare me from breaking a window. I squared my shoulders. This was his home. Not ours, certainly not mine.

“Oh, he’s good. A key strung with sea glass? Bold move. The man thinks he has me in checkmate. A charmed Marin is a less deadly Marin,” I said to the bags of gear at my feet as if they were eager and willing to take my side. Considering Gavin’s money had purchased them, it was a long shot.

Still, I pressed the key against my heart and released a tight breath. Maybe I’ll just pretend I’m home for a little while, so long as no one is here to see it.

The key slid soundlessly into the lock, and I pushed open the door.

A warm, salty breeze, touched with the faint scent of wild sea lavender, followed me inside.

The lantern glowed over the polished wood floors in the grand foyer.

I struck my flint and lit the tallow candles sitting in the wall sconces until the entire hall was bathed in a steady amber glow.

Amazing how the years hadn’t dimmed the magic of this place as if it were steeped into the foundation.

A few pieces of furniture still wore faded dust cloths, draped like ghosts of the past. The grand curved staircase leading to the second floor needed new carpet, but the broken spokes in the hand-carved railing had been replaced, and the whole thing stained a deep reddish-brown.

I explored some of the rooms, drifting my fingers over the stone hearth in the living room, and peeking into the surprisingly clean kitchen. Resting my lantern on the counter, I wandered to the sink and lifted the lever, giving the pump a few strong pulls until fresh water gurgled from the spout.

It still worked! Though Gavin’s handicraft was evident.

He’d switched the pump handle with something sturdier and more practical.

That didn’t surprise me. He’d always been the one to check my gear, upgrading items whenever we stopped at trading posts.

I wondered what else he’d changed, making it better, applying his own personal touches.

I used to think he was incapable of settling down and staying in one place. That he was always chasing something just out of reach. Yet, here he was. And he was surprisingly good at fixing things.

The thief who could mend houses.

Collecting a stream of water in my palms, I drank some of the cool liquid, then filled each of the water skins I’d purchased.

I set one of the leather flasks aside, along with a few days' worth of food rations: apples, crusty bread, and strips of dried meat. It wasn’t hearty or home-cooked, but it would last Gavin until Cass came to set him free.

Nerves stirred in my stomach. My plan was solid and fair. I wasn’t leaving him without food or water. If anything, I was doing him a favor, saving him from a long, grueling trek through an unfamiliar realm where either of us, or both, could end up dead .

He should thank me.

And yet, my nerves only churned harder, laced with guilt, of all things.

But I had nothing to feel guilty about.

He’d admitted it himself. Gavin was using me, exploiting my mission to line his already deep pockets. That was the difference between us. He wanted something. I was trying to save something.

We were not partners.

And Cass was being ridiculous. A head start? I wanted to laugh. Gavin and I had been challenging each other since the day we met. Sure, he’d be angry that I bested him, who wouldn’t be? And he’d hate the restraints. But he wasn’t going to chase me down.

My hands stilled on the countertop.

A memory flashed. Gavin in the alcove, eyes glittering behind his mask with something dark and possessive. Something that made my pulse race.

I swallowed hard.

No. He wouldn’t chase me. Once I was gone, he’d go right back to his life. Out of sight. Out of mind.

A distant thud made me jump, and I looked over my shoulder into the hall. Had Gavin returned? I strained to listen, picking up the sound of soft footsteps. Taking the lantern, I slipped out of the kitchen and followed the faint noise.

The steps were too light to be Gavin’s. Besides, he had no reason to sneak around his own house.

A ghost, maybe? That, I would believe. As a child, I used to think our house was haunted, though my father assured me it wasn’t.

He said the doors that closed on their own, the creaks and thuds in the night, were just ocean magic drifting in on a salty breeze, infusing the beams with its essence.

Knowing more about our family history and its connection to the sea made me realize how true that was. This wasn’t just a house. It was an entity with a soul of its own, immersed in otherworldly enchantment.

And it led me straight to a pair of arched double doors, the ones with cresting waves etched into the wood. The same doors I’d stopped in front of before Annie, Gavin’s niece, had caught me snooping that first day.

The doors were still locked. I pressed my ear to the panel, the same way you press a shell to your ear to hear the ocean.

Silence.

I held my breath as if I expected the house to speak. To whisper something from the other side of the door. But the silence was steady. The house held its breath with me.

Just as I leaned back, a floorboard creaked behind me.

I whirled.

The lantern’s light sputtered, shadows flickering down the hall. But there was no one there.

Wow. I needed sleep.

I was running on fumes and doubt. A fatal combination when it came to my upcoming hunt. And here I was personifying a house, hoping it would share its secrets. With a mocking shake of my head, I gathered all the gear and hauled everything out onto the terrace.

It was after ten o’clock. Gavin still hadn’t returned.

I paced the tiles, stopping after a few strides to unroll my bedding near the iron rail.

The weather was warm, and the salt air and distant crash of the waves were soothing.

I planned to get a few hours of sleep under the stars before I made my move.

Climbing the vine in the dark would be difficult, but I’d prepared for that. The magic-infused light I’d purchased would illuminate my way and keep my hands free. The climb itself should only take two days, with a few hours of rest during the night.

Cass had explained the vine’s magic. How time flowed differently between our kingdom and the sky realm, and how the vine helped its climbers, stretching and shifting beneath them, carrying them higher with ease.

Not that it would be easy. My muscles still ached from years in the underwater mines. And my body was weaker than it used to be. I was getting stronger every day, but the climb would take its toll. I’d be lucky if I didn’t need to sleep for a week once I’d made it to the top.

The appeal of a partner suddenly had a nice ring to it. But I’d be fine on my own. I’d relied on myself for years. I could do it again.

My gear was packed and ready. The shackles were stored out of sight. The key was hidden on the front porch for Cass to find.

All I had to do now was wait.

Leaning my elbows on the iron railing, I faced the sea and tipped my head back to catch the moonlight. I kicked off my boots, letting my feet rest against the cool stone. My hair tangled in the breeze, the rich blue strands, marking my curse, sticking to the side of my face.

Something in the air shifted. A faint shuffle of boots. The weight of someone’s stare.

Awareness tingled over my skin.

I turned toward the house, expecting another one of its magic shadows.

But it was Gavin, leaning in the terrace doorway, watching me.

He stood mostly in shadow, just outside the flickering torchlight along the rail.

Dressed in black—tunic, breeches, boots.

He could have been a silhouette, except for the light in his eyes.

Neither of us spoke. And it was the strangest moment. Silent and charged. Like the air right before a thunderstorm. I was sure if I moved, I’d feel the current strike the air around me.

He stepped onto the terrace, his features catching the torchlight, and I sucked in a sharp breath. A gash cut across his right temple, the wound darkening around the edges. I pushed off the rail before I knew what I was doing, bare feet slapping against the tile.