Page 118 of Lore of the Tides

Darkness shimmered around Syrelle as if he had already eased the clamp on his magic, preparing to take flight, to use all his power to cross an ocean, to save the only real family he had left.

“As I am now an enemy of the crown, he did not permit his messenger to disclose his plans for Duskmere to me, but I fear whatever he has prepared will be most catastrophic. It will take all your combined strength to save your people.”

“Well, that sounds ominous. Can’t you give us a bit more than that, Syrelle?” Hazen said from where he’d appeared behind Finndryl. He must have arrived just in time to hear Syrelle’s warning.

Syrelle ignored the prince.

He took one last look at Lore, his face displaying a vulnerability she had not seen in him since he’d been her Asher. His emotions were raw, exposed, and shone clearly on his face. His eyes, glinting in the daylight, revealed a silent mourning.

Syrelle was devoid of hope.

“You can’t return. Not with him intent on killing you.” She wrung her hands, panic tightening her chest.

“I don’t have control of the sun magic yet. I need more time.” Lore fought back tears. “We need more time to fix this.”

“We are out of time. You are a powerful sorceress, Lore Alemeyu. You have endured and thrived despite the poison poured on you relentlessly.” Syrelle smiled softly at Lore. “If anyone can triumph against him, it is you.”

“What if we ran? Now that I haveAuroradel, I know I can break the curse on the wood surrounding Duskmere; we will find a way to get my people out—to save Maple, your niece and nephew... there would be no need to—”

It was her fault. Her fault that the king would punish Duskmere. Her fault that he had Maple and the children in his clutches. Her fault, all her fault.

“No! My uncle is a predator—run—and you will just whet his appetite. Youmustfind another way.”

Syrelle stretched his wings, shaking out his feathers, preparing for flight. “I wish I had more time. If we had only had more time...” His voice faltered, broke.

Lore opened her mouth to beg him towait, to see if they could devise a plan, together. They could board the ship together—stay up all night making plans, like they did back in the Exile in Tal Boro. He had so much information she needed, about the king, about... about everything.

But she knew he did not have time to waste if he wanted any chance at all to save his aunt and the children.

And her magic was not yet something that he could rely on.

“Remember, Lore. The grimoires did not give you their magic; they were simply the key that unlocked the magic within you. Youaremagic, Lore. You can harness the power of a million stars in the sky, a million suns. Craft your own paradise.”

Syrelle bent his knees and, with one powerful beat of his wings, took flight.

Lore called after him, but within moments, Syrelle was out of sight. She shouted his name until she grew hoarse, collapsing on the dock, her body racked with sobs.

Chapter 38

Lore paced the cabin on theConstellation Weaver.

She’d thought she’d have two weeks to plan and prepare before she faced him. Yet now she had mere days before the King of Alytheria would unleash his plans upon Duskmere. And less time to save Syrelle, Maple, and her children.

She reached the wall and turned back around with a frustrated huff. She couldn’t think in this stuffy, windowless room. She thrust open the door to their cabin and slipped into the hall.

TheWeaverwasfilledwith passengers. Families, traders, merchants. She walked not ten feet before a giggling child clutching a rag doll ran under Lore’s foot, and she had to skip out of the way. Children never did well when cooped up. Only hours into the voyage, the children, most of whom had started this journey as strangers, had become friends or enemies, and they ran through the halls at top speed, playing their games of make-believe, heedless of the other passengers. The children’s laughter sounded like home.

Lore spun around, maneuvered her way back to the cabin, and closed the door behind her. She pressed her forehead to the wood, urging herself to breathe.

She would find a way.

She sank onto a chair and slippedAuroradelfrom her satchel. Opening the grimoire on a ship was a risk. It pulsed with power in her hands—intoxicating, petrifying, magnificent.

Lore put everyone at risk by even considering this. But she had to. She had to be there in time.

If she had to, she would carve the very ocean in two in order to save him.

She couldn’t fight it anymore. She would be adrift in a sea of darkness if she were forced to live in a world without Syrelle. She couldn’t help but love him, even though she’d tried not to.

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