Page 128 of Lore of the Tides

“Being kept as a spectacle, an oddity for her court to gawk at, a sort of ‘pet’ of hers was terrible, but the worst of it is just this damned craving... this constant ache for her wine, her food... It helped that once I set foot back in Duskmere, I literally couldn’t leave again. Takes away some of the urge to go off and drown myself in it.” His laugh was wry.

Lore placed her hand on his shoulder. “I wonder if there is a spell I could—”

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but I’m handling it.”

“Let me know, all right? If it becomes too much to bear. I’m sure I can help.”

Grey smiled, pulling her into a quick hug. “You returning is help enough.”

Lore squeezed him back.

She was afraid again. Afraid that their plan wouldn’t work. That Grey would be killed, another person in her life to leave her arms empty.

* * *

Later, Isla, Finn, and Lore slipped out the back door and entered the field behind the shelter. They sat upon the earth in a circle, nestling between two rows of spindly grapevines that, even in death, clung to their trellises.

The air thrummed with anticipation as Lore, her lips pressed tight in concentration, carefully turned the pages ofAuroradel. Sunlight streamed through the leaves of the vines, painting dappled shadows across the diagrams and texts. Isla sat opposite Lore, her ethereal beauty heightened by tentative hope.

“Are you sure about this, Lore?” Isla asked, her voice a whisper laced with trepidation. “We don’t have a volcanic deity to help break the curse.”

“Now that I have the sun book, we do not need one. If you want this, then I have to try,” Lore replied, her voice firm despite the imperceptible tremor in her hands.Auroradelpulsed with heat, its soft light glowing beneath her fingertips, as if wanting to assuage her worries, as if telling her,Believe it will be so, believe in me, in us, and it will be. “Like Finndryl, I can feel the magic lying dormant within you, bound by the rotten film of the curse. Your magic is strong. It’s time it was set free.”

“This might be painful, but Isla, it will be so worth it. Trust Lore,” Finndryl murmured to his sister.

Isla nodded. Her eyes flicked from Finndryl to Lore, her gaze unwavering. She squared her shoulders. “I trust you, Lore. I’m ready.”

Lore found the page detailing a ritual of luminescence, a spell designed to cleanse. She took a deep breath as she studied the page,committing the ancient Alytherian to memory, before letting the book rest on her skirts and taking one of Isla’s hands in hers, Finndryl’s in the other. She would use the feel of his magic as a map to help guide the spell within Isla, as their magic was connected, not just by family, or the curse, but because they were connected by more than that, they were formed together in the same womb.

Lore began to chant the incantation, her voice rising and falling, the spell sounding songlike as she wove it, pressed it into Isla.

Isla gritted her teeth, her body trembling with the intensity of Lore’s spell as warm, bright light enveloped her. Lore closed her eyes as she continued chanting, no longer needing the spell to guide her as she poured all her hopes and adoration for Isla into the spell.

Isla gasped, the sound choked, agonized. Lore’s eyes flew open. Her resolve faltered, what if she was hurting Isla as she did Finn, but this time the spell wouldn’t take?

But then, shesawthe curse. A rust-red mist began to seep from Isla’s pores, writhing and hissing as it met the light. She couldn’t stop now. It was working!

Lore maintained even as Isla cried out, her body beginning to convulse as the red mist grew denser. It encircled Isla like a tornado, overpowering the light as it fought against the cleansing spell. Finndryl tightened his grip on Lore’s hand, and she knew that he was clenching Isla’s tighter, sending strength to his sister.

With a final surge of power from Lore, the light expanded, erupted, banishing the red mist, which dissolved into motes of dust that scattered in the wind.

Isla’s eyes sprang open, just before she gave a shudder and collapsed forward into Finndryl’s outstretched arms, her body suddenly racked with heaving sobs.

“Isla, tell me, what do you feel? Are you all right?” Lore asked, terrified that it had gone wrong. That she had caused Isla pain for nothing.

“I... I can feel it,” she whimpered into her brother’s shoulder. “It’s lifted. The curse is lifted.”

Chapter 43

Hazen left after breakfast, having his own part to play in their uprising. Their future settlement depended on Queen Naia keeping her end of the bargain that Lore had struck with her back in Lapis Deep. Lore had faith that she would keep her promise. The goodbye with the siren prince was swift, as Lore and Finndryl would see him soon.

The inhabitants of Duskmere gathered, each person with a bowl from home, at the open-air church, which stood defiantly nestled within a copse of trees, as the sun rose toward its zenith. Lore’s footsteps were silent on the creeping alyssum that covered the ground as she wove through the crowd of humans. Dappled sunlight illuminated the moss-covered stone altar at the front of the church, casting shadows uponZiara, the sacred skyglass they used to search and track the stars. Generations of hope were stored within the magnificent skyglass, as countless gazes peered through the eyepiece searching for Shahassa.

The elders chanted prayers over the people who crowded into the church, spilling out through the open windows, the entrances. For the church, not built to contain, was more a collection of lichen-covered stone pillars. Their voices wove in and out of the pillars, the trees, as they chanted—imploring the gods to guide them tovictory. Many hugged their loved ones close. Lore’s gaze clung to the people, trying to memorize everyone’s face. Some she might never see again.

Heat from the black behemoth of a cauldron warmed her cheeks, and she placed the pack of ingredients she’d brought from Jamal market onto the pew beside her. The oil was ready. Lore scooped the chopped onion from the cutting board and dropped it into the sizzling oil. When those softened, she added the garlic that Finndryl had just finished chopping. One minute for that; she didn’t want the garlic to burn. Next, she added salt—for protection—then handfuls of cumin, coriander, turmeric, and a pinch of fiery chili—the added warmth would help to strengthen them. The fragrance wafting up from the cauldron made her mouth water.

“Just in time,” Lore called to Lex and his partner, a long-haired boy with kind eyes and a cheeky sense of humor, as they hauled in the last bucket of water and set it at her feet.

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