The first flush of color from the sunrise leaked into the crystal blue waves of the Southern Sea like spilled watercolor paint. Saoirse stood on one of the many docks jutting out from Caltine Harbor as the salt-laced breeze whispered over the merchant ship that would bear them to Terradrin.

The Tellusun ship had a curved prow with an elegantly crafted stem-head. Whorls of swirling clouds were carved into its oak surface, mimicking the way the wind moved over the dunes of the Shujaa Desert. The carvings crept along the hull of the ship and convened at the ornate stern that glimmered with two rows of bronze-framed windows. Two masts pierced the dawn, lateen sails sitting idle as they loaded the last of their supplies. Because the ship would not only take them to Terradrin but to the Northern Wastes afterward, they had stocked up with enough barrels of wine and crates of dried plants, salted meats, and other non-perishable provisions to last a month. A sizable crew of Tellusun and Terradrin rebels milled about the deck checking the riggings and shouting various orders.

As a Mer, Saoirse had seldom traveled by ship. It had always been much more efficient to travel through the seas in kelpie-drawn carriages or by swimming to a destination herself. It was strange to think how drastically her life had changed since the Tournament. She had walked on land for weeks now, breathing air just as any other land-dweller. With waves lapping softly at the dock and the cry of gulls overhead, bitter-sweet nostalgia seeped into her heart. She itched to hurl herself off the dock and sink deep into the ocean, filling her lungs with the briny waves her body craved. But she knew that after weeks of drinking titansblood and acclimating to breathing air, her progress would be lost if she gave in. Moreover, if she relented and let herself swim in the sea, she might not ever want to climb back out again. And more pressing was the reality that Selussa was undoubtedly searching for her. As the daughter of King Angwin and a descendant of the Mer Queen Basilia, the Maeral Sea could identify Saoirse’s presence in her waves as easily as a mother recognized the cry of her own child’s voice in a crowd. The ebbing tides sloshed below the wooden planks of the dock as if beckoning her under, bits of frothy sea foam spraying the deck. With Selussa in command of the ocean, Saoirse couldn’t risk being identified no matter how desperately she longed to return home to the waves.

Saoirse stared out across the open sea as if she could see the distant lands of Terradrin on the horizon. The sun was still a smear of gold against the flat expanse of blue. Her heart thundered wildly in her chest. What monsters lurked below the ocean’s serene surface? What monsters waited for them in the shadows of the Under Kingdom on the other side?

“Saoirse,” a voice called. Aurelia sidled over with a long-suffering expression on her face. She wrapped her arms around Saoirse and they clung to each other in silence as the waves lapped against the dock.

They had discussed Aurelia’s role in relocating the Mer refugees at length, but her stubborn friend was no less displeased. Saoirse understood her hesitancy. She had rarely been separated from her dearest friend over the last ten years, and even though they were to rendezvous in a week’s time, it felt like a piece of Saoirse’s heart was being chipped away.

“You know how much I hate this,” Aurelia mumbled against her shoulder. “We’re to depart for the Isles as soon as you set sail. It feels wrong to leave without you.” The rescue party would travel by pegasus and arrive at the jungled Isles of Mythos within hours. A flock of winged horses would undoubtedly draw the attention of Aurandel away from the Southern Sea.

“I know.” Saoirse leaned in and inhaled the familiar scent of her hair: lavender and kelp soap. She pulled away from Aurelia and peered into her turquoise eyes. She caught a blonde curl that had freed itself from the tight plait wrapped around the crown of Aurelia’s head, tucking it behind her ear. The translucent scales that shimmered on Aurelia’s high cheekbones were tinged pink and orange in the dawn.

“You are capable and strong,” Aurelia whispered, placing a hand on Saoirse’s cheek. “You don’t need me to protect you. But you know that it crushes me to send you off into the unknown.”

“Our people need you just as much as I do. You will save so many Mer lives. My beloved sister. My captain.”

Aurelia gave a reluctant nod. “Someone needs to keep an eye on Sune and Rook, I suppose,” she replied wryly. She swiped a hand across her tear-streaked face and straightened. “They’ll kill each other if I’m not there to intercede.”

Rook. His name was a sharp pang in her heart. She was grateful for his forgiveness, but the conclusion of their conversation last night was far from satisfactory. She was relieved Rook was with Sune in the city making last-minute preparations for their expedition rather than down at the docks. Seeing him again would likely unravel the last of her fraying nerves.

“Be safe,” Saoirse pleaded. “Selussa will be watching the rescue party, whether through the eyes of her beasts or the whispers in the waves. If you—” her voice faltered. “If you see any sign of my father, tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I love him.”

Aurelia nodded solemnly. “I will.” Her eyes suddenly brightened. “Do you know what day it is today?”

Saoirse smiled sheepishly. “It’s my nameday. I’d hoped you might forget about it. It doesn’t seem that significant considering everything going on.”

“You wound me, princess. How could I forget? Of course, it’s still significant!”

A few weeks ago, Saoirse would’ve thought she’d be celebrating her nameday within the great halls of Kellam Keep. A decadent feast of royal proportions would’ve been spread across multiple tables and the halls crowded to the gills with court guests and fellow members of the Torqen. She would’ve sat beside her father at the head of one of those tables surveying the festivities. And if the Tournament had gone their way, the court would’ve been celebrating Elorshin’s victory by toasting to the Crown of Revelore brought back to the Mer kingdom for the first time in a century. Saoirse could’ve never predicted that her eighteenth nameday would instead be celebrated on a rebel ship bound for Terradrin while the continent descended into war.

“I wish I could give you a gift,” Aurelia mourned. “Alas, I have nothing to my name except the cloak on my back and the sword on my hip. I was going to peruse the selections in the market last night, but Sune?”

“Do share more details of your torrid affair,” Saoirse teased. “That will be a gift enough.” A wicked grin cut across Aurelia’s face and a peel of laughter spilled from her lips. For a fleeting moment, it felt like they were two girls again, whispering across the hallway in the Torqen barracks.

“I don’t think you’d like to hear about what goes on between us,” she laughed. “I can barely stomach it myself.” Aurelia grew serious again. “Jests aside, I am so amazed by the woman you have become, Saoirse. You’re brilliant in every way. Your mother and father would both be so proud of you.”

Saoirse very much doubted that. Her father had been vehemently against her decision to compete in the Tournament, citing her foolishness and naivety. She could still hear the furious words that he’d hurled at her in his study a lifetime ago: Proud of my daughter for almost getting herself killed by a sea dragon? Proud that although I explicitly told her not to try and find the Elders’ Tokens, my daughter went directly against my orders? Which of these are you referring to? Which of these actions should I be proud of?

No, her father was likely dead because of her. She was a disgrace to him now. And her mother…Her mother’s similar ideas of a united Revelore were what got her killed in the first place.

“Are you ready?” a stern voice interrupted. Saoirse turned from Aurelia and watched as Neia Landum strode up the dock. The Terradrin captain’s bone-white hair was pulled back into an iron ring, the colorless sheet of her hair hanging down her back like a horse’s tail. She wore a dark cape that fluttered in the wind, the ink-black fabric posing a sharp contrast to her pallid skin and colorless eyes. Neia stood nearly as tall as Rook and Saoirse had to angle her head to look up at the Terradrin captain.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“Well stop standing there looking so dour, then,” Neia said briskly. “We’ve got a world to save. Captain Eleni will be fine without you.” The commander strode past her up the gangplank, cloak whipping in the salty breeze.

“Don’t mind her,” came a voice. Captain Rymir Barrow stalked up, a lopsided grin splayed on his face. “She likes to pretend she’s allergic to affection, but she has her moments of tenderness just like anyone else. Don’t let her order you about, either.”

“Easier said than done,” Aurelia mumbled.

Rymir laughed, his half-smile spreading into a charming grin. The harsh shadows of the great hall had made him appear older during their meeting, but the light of the sunrise revealed his youth. The Terradrin captain didn’t seem much older than Saoirse. His pearl-white hair appeared silver in the dawn, a rogue forelock feathering playfully across his right eye. His remarkable intelligence had been on full display during the war counsel, but there was no aura of arrogance about him. Instead, he seemed eager to help and earnest in his presentation.

Saoirse had observed Neia and Rymir’s odd sibling-like relationship last night with curiosity. Neia’s care for the young captain had been obvious in the way she’d burned with pride as he led parts of their meeting. She wouldn’t have guessed the severe former commander of Grivur’s infamous armies was capable of affection, but she supposed if anyone could persuade Neia to love, it would be the young captain. Saoirse got the impression that Rymir likely captured the hearts of everyone he encountered.

“Well, I’ll see you up there, Princess,” Rymir said, one star-bright eye winking at Saoirse. He followed Neia, his long-legged strides catching up to her quickly. When he met with her at the end of the gangplank, Neia punched him in the arm.