Page 30 of Fate of Echoes and Embers
It was a tricky bit of magic that Nerys perfected well before I ever attempted it. Lifting both hands, I first summoned moisture in the air. It was easy enough this close to port. With the mists, I twisted my fingers, creating two deceptively thin ropes. Bound by water, no human could break them. With a final movement, I flicked my hands and sent the ropes coiling around Issa’s hands, first separately and then, with a stronger pull to account for her resistance, gently binding them together behind her back.
Grinning, I took a step toward her, grateful to have Kael and Mev as an audience. There was no accounting for what I might attempt otherwise. Kissing Issa again had become a near constant vision in my mind. One “aye” from her and the thing I promised myself not to do—get close to her again—would be a foregone conclusion.
“I could, of course, also summon water from the bay. But this would do just as well.”
Issa rolled her eyes. “Are you planning to release me?”
I hesitated long enough for Kael to issue a warning. “Marek,” he grumbled.
A curse on meddling Gyorian princes.
Another flick of my wrists and the ropes turned back to mist, evaporating into the air almost immediately. When they did, I stepped past Issa and reached for the door, but not before whispering into her ear.
“A good thing we have witnesses, sereia.”
12
ISSA
An antique shop. Its owner was a human. Not surprising since we were still in Estmere. But what did surprise me was his greeting to Marek. He looked as if the Spirit of the Tides had just walked into his shop.
“Uh,” he stammered, clearly nervous. The older man moved with the careful precision of one who had spent his life handling delicate and dangerous things. His fingers were smudged with ink.
“Relax, Bram. I’m not here to collect payment.”
So the two knew each other. Was that the reason for Marek’s hesitancy coming here?
“You’re… not?”
“Payment for what?” Kael asked.
“We’re here for an item.” Marek looked around the dusty shop. Every corner was filled. From books to stopwatches, to tarnished silver goblets and ornate dagger hilts… the artifacts peeked out of wooden crates and crowded the countertops. The scent of old parchment, polished wood, and something faintly metallic filled the space.
“An item,” Kael repeated. “Procured legally, I’m certain.”
I was equally as certain it was not. The owner stared at Mev, no doubt wondering if the rumors were true, likely having guessed her identity.
“Are you…” Bram began, without finishing.
“Princess Mevlida,” she said.
Bram immediately bowed, nearly slamming his head on the counter in his haste. When he stood, his gaze fell on Kael. “Which means you must be Prince Kael of Gyoria?”
“No bow for me?” Kael taunted in his typical, gruff, Gyorian manner.
“Gyorians have not been kind to Valmyr, or Estmere. Your father’s policies have made it more difficult to conduct business these past years.”
“And precisely what sort of business are you in, Master Bram?”
“Kael,” Mev warned.
“You are an antiques dealer.” Kael’s voice softened, but not by much.
“Bram istheantiques dealer. Human or otherwise,” I said.
“What can I do for you, captain?” he asked Marek, still wary.
“You’ve procured an item with extraordinary magical properties.”
