Page 63 of Lore of the Tides

“How else am I supposed to carry your books and make it look this easy?” He flexed, his muscles straining the seam of his cuffed sleeves.

Lore rolled her eyes. “Finn... anyone can carry a stack of books underwater.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah... but not everyone can make it look this good,” he said as he set the books gently onto their chosen table. It was in the coziest spot, nestled between a bookshelf and a heater vent.

“All right, Alemeyu, stop flirting with me and put me to work,” Finndryl said, sitting down at the table.

Lore smiled sweetly and pushed the stack of books toward him. “Look through these while I grab another stack. Don’t worry, I should manage to carry this one on my own.” She twirled around. That would teach him to be cheeky. She called over her shoulder, eyeing him where he sat, lounged in his chair, watching her walk away, “And mark any instances of another magical drought that might have happened and been thwarted.”

“By the stars above, your will is done,” he said, cracking open the tome on top of the stack,The Coral Codex: A Sacred Study on Ethical Teachings of the Siren Faith.

* * *

“I thought my fingers would have pruned by now,” Finndryl said in hushed tones as he eased himself onto a cot beside Lore. They had thumbed their way through countless books until one of the scribes had finally ushered them to a hallway filled with cots splayed out in various places, all but two filled with unhoused siren families who were already sleeping.

They pulled theirs to a small alcove as far away from the sleeping families as they could.

Lore gazed at her own fingertips, swirling them through the water. There wasn’t a bit of wrinkled skin on her fingertips. “It is odd, isn’t it? Too long in the bath, and my fingers look like my gran’s... This Kiss has powerful magic. I honestly feel like I’m sitting inair. Thick, heavy air, but air. I can even smell you. Which doesn’t make sense if you think about it. How can Ismellunderwater?”

Finndryl raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching upward into a smirk. “You can smell me? What do I smell like?”

Lore’s cheeks warmed.Spiced whiskey, ginger, and something else delectable that she couldn’t quite name.“A stinky male.”

He breathed a laugh and settled into his cot, placing his arms beneath his pillow and staring at the ceiling in the distance. “I’m sure that’s not it. Should I come closer so you can sniff me again? That cot looks big enough for both of us.”

“No need; you’re pungent enough from over there.”

Finndryl’s nostrils flared, and he flicked his gaze over her body, taking his time to admire her from head to toe. Lore’s cheeks warmed when she saw his onyx eyes brimming with heat. “I can smell you, too, you know. I can always smell you.”

“Oh gods, what I smell like right now is none of your business. I probably smell like seaweed and despair.”

Finndryl screwed his expression into mock surprise. “Exactly like that.”

Lore faced him, flipping onto her side, propping her head on her hand. “Well, now I’m curious.”

“Comforting. The faint scent of parchment. Fresh, like dew in the morning. Though sweet.” He licked his lips, his sharp canines flashing in the low light. “Edible, like freshly plucked marigold.”

“Marigold? Are you saying you want toeatme, Finndryl?”

“Something like that,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper as his eyes, dark with longing, locked onto hers, revealing the depths of his desire.

Lore’s heart skipped a beat. His cot was close enough, she need only lean forward just a bit... No! This was exactly what she was trying to avoid.

If Finndryl put his delicious mouth on her, she would lose herself to him completely. Something she couldn’t afford to do when the problems of this fucked-up world were crushing her. When she needed to be focusing on getting away from the fae, notunderone of them.

She looked away, collapsing onto her back. “Go to sleep, smelly. We have a queendom to save in the morning.”

“You got it, Alemeyu.”

* * *

In the morning, Lore and Finndryl found themselves alone in the library. The librarians and scribes had taken the morning off for a religious service, and they barred other visitors from the library so as not to disturb them. Even Prince Consort Jaladri left them to their research, closing the doors behind him after letting them know where he would be should they need assistance with anything.

“Have you ever heard of a ‘radiance swell’?” Lore asked Finndryl as she placed a massive tome on the table.

He frowned and placed a fingertip on the page in front of him to keep his spot. “Never. What is it?”

“It says here,radiance swells appear seemingly at random, though one can sometimes find them by following the Nikoryxia, for they, due to an ecological factor, are able to locate them.” She tapped a finger on the passage, leaning toward Finndryl, her eyes alight with discovery. “Apparently, the Nikoryxia only lay their eggs within radiance swells—the essence of the swell, coupled with the natural warmth one emits, is the only thing that allows their eggs to hatch. If a swell wanes too quickly, the eggs die off and the creatures must go another year or more, sometimes as long as a decade, before another comes along and they can lay their clutches.”

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