Page 31 of Fate of Echoes and Embers
The man might be an experienced shopkeeper, but he was not as proficient at hiding his true emotions. Eyes wide, he all but announced the truth of Marek’s words.
“How do you?—”
“It would please me very much, if you might show us the item, good sir.”
I had never heard Mev speak so firmly, and eloquently, before. That was a princess’s request, and not simply a woman who’d fallen through the Aetherian Gate.
The shopkeeper stood straighter, his shoulders back, head held high. “Of course, your grace. It would be an honor.”
I caught Kael’s eye roll and nearly giggled.
Disappearing into a back room, Master Bram left the four of us alone.
I had questions.
“The two of you know each other well, it seems?”
“Well enough,” Marek said good-naturedly enough, but there was a hesitancy to him not normally evident.
A good thing we have witnesses, sereia.
I wanted to get him alone to ask what Marek had meant by that. Or at least, part of me wanted to know. Part of me knew already. And another part of me wanted nothing to do with the conversation.
I held a hand over my heart, listening, not even needing to block out my surroundings. “It is close.”
“Remarkable,” Kael said. “I’ve not seen a human do that before.”
“My father had the same ability. And harnessed it in the same way. He is the only other I know who did as much.”
The shopkeeper emerged with a water-stained, leather-bound book. “I bought it from a Thalassarian.”
“May I?” Mev asked, perhaps sensing he would trust her with the book.
Indeed, he handed it to her without question.
“It doesn’t appear magical to me.” She began flipping through the pages.
“I thought the same and would have turned him away if it weren’t for another patron who sensed its magic.”
My ability wasn’t rare but neither was it common. I exchanged a glance with Marek, who was likely thinking the same.
“This is why I kept it,” he said, reaching forward and opening to a page. Kael looked over Mev’s shoulder and read.
“She called upon the sea, but it answered in hunger. Not offering the tide its due. The Depths demand more than courage. They demand a heart willing to break.”
At “The Depths,” my stomach flipped. The reality of what Marek was attempting to do sometimes felt as if it were just another of his adventures, many of which he had told me about. While dangerous, Marek’s command of the sea kept him safe. The Maelstrom Depths were different. There was a real possibility he would not make it out of them alive, and despite everything, I did not want him to die. The thought of it, in fact, left me in a constant state of unsettledness whenever we were faced with the reality of the situation.
“What is this?” Marek demanded, his tone losing all of its typical, teasing qualities.
“Supposedly, a journal kept by a sailor who perished in the Maelstrom Depths. As you can see, there is nothing inherently magical about it. But if it truly has been to the Depths and back…”
“Its magic will be felt,” Marek finished. “Comes from the same one that created the Depths in the first place.”
“I don’t get it.” Mev flipped through the book once more. “How is it intact if it was in the water? And what magic created the Maelstrom Depths? I thought it was just a dangerous patch of sea?”
Kael took the book from her and held it under the candlelight on the counter in front of us. Master Bram looked as if he wanted to take it back from him, but the shopkeeper didn’t dare.
“The legend varies, depending on who’s telling it.” Marek exhaled, looking at the journal intently. “Some say the Depths were born from the anger of a god. Others, that a sorcerer sought to control the winds and failed, drowning the sea itself in cursed magic. But the oldest story—the one that was whispered long before the clans of Elydor carved their names into maps—speaks of a living force that does not forget. Does not forgive.”
