Page 44 of Fate of Echoes and Embers
“Technically, everything in Elydor is imbued with magic. So every animal… actually, every Elydorian… do you sense them all?”
“No, not any longer. Before I was trained, aye. To an extent. Maybe like when you sense another’s intention?—”
“Ahh, I get it. I only feel it when I open myself up to receiving it. Or when it’s so strong, I have no choice but to notice. It’s been like that from the start.”
“Without training?”
“Right. No training. My mother is a psychic. It’s what led her to The Crooked Key in the first place, I assume: whisperings of a secret portal among the magical community. But me? Nothing. Nada. At least, not until I came here. It came on gradually but, no. There was never any training involved. At least, not with my human abilities. Anyway, tell us more about what you felt.”
“It was dark,” I blurted, realizing I had not mentioned that.
“Dark magic?” Marek asked.
“I’m not sure. I’ve never sensed dark magic, that I know of.”
“Not surprising,” Kael explained to Mev, “it’s extremely rare.”
Unfortunately, I had nothing else to offer.
I began to pace, thinking back to Rowan’s vision, or what we had of it, at least. “The Depths remember. Not safe. Not meant to be disturbed. A sacrifice must be made. Do you think… could the magic I felt be the Depths themselves, somehow? The two must be related.”
“You said there are all sorts of stories about the Maelstrom Depths,” Mev said to Marek. “But that the most likely spoke of a living force that does not forget. Does not forgive. Isn’t that what you said?”
“Oldest story, but perhaps most likely too.” Marek nodded toward the ship’s wheel, stepping aside.
I took it, thankful to have something useful to do.
“So that tracks with Rowan’s message,” Mev said.
All three of us looked at her, confused.
“Sorry. That… makes sense. You felt as if something, maybe dark, came alive. And legend speaks of the Depths as if they are alive. ‘They remember. They require a sacrifice.’ It must all be related.”
“Marek,” I said quietly, knowing what I did about his mother’s death. “Where does one learn more about them?”
His brows arched. “Sailors’ journals, like the one we acquired. Oral history. I’ve asked Nerys to research The Deep Archives for information on the Depths and other underwater disturbances like it. But thus far, very little information has been useful.”
Our group fell silent.
Marek’s mission was dangerous before. But this? He would not survive those Depths. Of that I had no doubt. We couldn’t let him go into them. Not like this.
Mev straightened, her gaze sharpening with realization. “Then we need more than old sailors’ journals and fragmented myths. Kael and I will scour The Luminara for information. We need to figure this out before you retrieve the Wind Crystal, Marek.”
Kael nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Those vaults house the oldest records in Aetheria. If there’s any written account of what dwells in the Maelstrom Depths, it would be there.”
Marek rolled his eyes playfully, bringing a much-needed lightness back to the conversation. “Aetherians and their books.”
“I agree,” I said, running my fingers along the wheel’s smooth, time-worn wood. The ship swayed beneath me, steady despite the storm of uncertainty brewing in my mind. My grip tightened… not to steer, but to ground myself.
“Then it is settled.” Mev pushed off the rail and headed back down to the main deck, Kael falling in step beside her.
“Where are you going?” I asked, curious.
Mev tossed a grin over her shoulder. “To make sure we don’t all starve. Unless you’d rather survive on Marek’s questionable stash of dried fish?”
They were gone before he could reply.
Marek moved toward me, his presence solid and sure. I breathed in his scent of salt and sun-warmed leather. He didn’t speak at first, just rested a hand on the wheel beside mine, his fingers brushing my knuckles as he adjusted our course.
