Page 4 of Lore of the Tides

Lore twisted her face into a confused expression. “I thought you were commander?”

“Commander, yes, but aboard this ship, I am Commander in name only. I didn’t manage to bring any of my cabal with me. Those crewing the ship are loyal only to the king.” His voice held a bitter edge. “He has sent my cousin, Lady Coretha, on our journey to protect his interests—we are, of course, seeking the grimoires as gifts for him.”

Lore’s mind shuttered. The grimoires were not for Syrelle at all...

“You would find the grimoire... complete the set... and gift them to the king? Does he not have enough?” Aghast, her voice rose an octave. “Is he not in control of an entire kingdom already?”

“You weren’t wrong—what you accused me of just now. Only, the one with an unceasing lust formore, it was never me—but the king. That’s the thing about power, Lore, is that for those who seek it, there can never be enough.” His expression was grave, earnest. “I have hurt you, lied to you, betrayed your trust, and I am sorryfor that. I will apologize for my betrayal for as long as there is breath in my body, and I know, yes, I know you do not wish to hear this, I know that you don’t wish to hear anything from me just now, or even see my face—and trust me, I do not blame you one bit... I would despise myself if I were in your boots—just know, I could never have helped you to unlock the secrets ofDeeping Luneas... as myself.”

She had been right. Him admitting to his wrongs did not make her feel better, she hurtmoresomehow. She’d wanted to avoid this because she was filled with so much rage it was like plugging a geyser with earth. She could feel the dirt dampening her anger, shaking and shifting, ready to explode apart by a scalding torrent of devastation and hatred. Briefly, she considered scratching out his eyes, ruining his true face. She tightened her grip on the vase, her fingers itching to toss its contents, or at least throw the vase at him. She resisted. Barely.

Oblivious, he continued, his words rushed. “My original plan didn’t play out. I tried, but I could not makeDeeping Luneunlock for me. When I changed the plan—told my uncle that there was something wrong with the grimoire, that I had a plan to unlock its secret using a human, he accepted it. He was irate when he discovered that not only had the magic been unlocked, but that I had withheld that information. When he learned the truth in the tower, that you, a human, had access to the magic... his reaction surprised me. He was furious, scared about what it meant for a human to have access to magic... he...” His tone was grave. “The king wanted to eliminate the human race altogether.”

Terror shuddered Lore’s breath. And her removing the grimoire from the library... they risked the king becoming even more powerful...

“I knew that I couldn’t keep the knowledge of your bond withDeeping Lunefrom him forever—and when Isla and I discovered the steward’s repulsive plot with the women and children, my priority became to put a stop to the Tower Project, but, Lore... and I am fearful admitting this... I used the unfortunate circumstances as an opportunity.”

Lore felt bile climbing up her throat. How could the abduction of women and children—and the sick use they had planned for them—benefithim?

He continued, “I had to know... I had to be sure that you could do it—could use your powers to extract your people, that you were powerful enough to make it happen. For only through your strength and mastery ofSourcewill we find the Book of Sunbeams.”

“You think...” Lore opened and closed her mouth in shock, not believing what she was hearing. “You think that, after everything, I would search for this other grimoirewillingly? That I would place another weapon into your hands and then... what, stand aside as you reward the very being who has imprisoned my people forgenerations? The king who even now must be persuaded not to annihilate us?”

Lore swayed on her feet. It was worse than she thought. Everything was worse than she’d thought. Syrelle’s betrayal seemed inconsequential to this threat on Duskmere.

And it was all his fault.

If he had never tricked her into the library, things would still be bad, but the king wouldn’t be on the hunt to acquire two monumental weapons... her people wouldn’t be facing extinction.

Syrelle closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “I wish I could open up to you completely, tell you the entire truth—but if it were relayed to the king... the results would be not just my death, your people’s... but yours as well, and I will never let that happen. Just know that my intentions will benefit you and all of Duskmere. Do not fight me in this—together, we can findAuroradel; I will be able to fix everything.”

How would finding another powerful source of magic—one that would be detrimental if placed in the king’s hands—fix anything? “You want me to search for the book so that you can ‘fix’ this mess you made? As though the continuity of my entire race were a castle made of blocks, and they tumbled?”

He nodded solemnly.

“No.” Lore clenched her teeth so hard she was afraid her molars would crack. “I won’t do it. I won’t be your puppet any longer.”

She needed him gone. She needed him out of her life. This was a nightmare. This was a terrible, horrible nightmare. She would wake up from this, she could—

“Mouse—”

“Call me that one more time, and I’ll break this vase across your face and use the shards to carve out your deceitful tongue.”

Syrelle swallowed, anguish crossing his expression momentarily.

Lore meant it.

Syrelle was bigger than her, stronger, faster, and his magic did not rely on the moon, nor a spell book, so she might not be able to achieve her threat, but she would try her hardest, and it was clear by his pained expression that he knew that.

“You didn’t disclose how hostile she is, Syr.” A high, lyrical voice spoken from behind Syrelle cut the tension in the room. “Nor how insolent. Should we have her bound and gagged?”

Lore cut her eyes behind him, where a beautiful female stood in the doorway.

Lore hadn’t heard it open, and, judging by the expression on Syrelle’s face, neither had he.

For the first time, fear crossed the depths of his dark eyes—just for a moment—real, raw terror, just before his face hardened into an apathetic mask.

Was he wondering how much the female had heard?Had it been enough to condemn him?

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