Page 71 of Fate of Echoes and Embers
I thought of all the leads I’d followed, all of those I’d spoken with about tainted waters like the Depths… Would the Luminara hold its secrets when the Hidden Depths, the records of all great Thalassarian divers and sailors throughout Elydor’s history, provided little in the way of answers?
Likely not.
“Are you staying here?” I asked.
“No. Given what I’ve learned today, I have some business to attend to, but I will be back in a few days. If you have need of me before then?—”
“That will do,” I told him. “It’ll take a full day to get close enough for Issa to sense the Crystal’s magic and a full day to return.” As we spoke, the winds signaled the storm was coming more quickly than I expected. “And it seems as if tomorrow will not be ideal for sailing.”
Adren laid a fist on his chest.
I mimicked the gesture, marveling, as Adren walked away, at today’s turn of events.
Hoping enough time had passed for Issa to finish her bath, but also hoping it had not, I made my way inside the inn, putting all thoughts of my conversation with Adren behind me.
Our days together were coming to an end, but tonight? It was time for me to make good on my promise to Isolde.
27
ISSA
I sat on the edge of the bed, my hair still damp from a glorious bath. I hadn’t expected anything more than a wooden tub and was surprised when the innkeeper led me to a sunken stone basin, its waters scented with crushed nightbloom petals and warmed from beneath by hidden embers. She had locked the door behind me, another clue, as if I needed one, that I was in Grimharbor and not back home in Hawthorne Manor.
Above me, thick, dark beams gave the room a cavernous feel, while the lanterns flickered with an eerie orange/yellow light, fueled by the region’s peculiar firevine oil. It smelled of spice and damp earth, a distinctly Gyorian scent.
That I would find myself here, in enemy territory, welcomed by both the innkeeper and Adren, was wholly unexpected.
Adren. Was it more than coincidence that Kael had befriended me, his right-hand man a relative the entire time? And that I should find my way here, working with him to restore the portal to my ancestor’s realm? There was a saying in Elydor: the threads of fate are woven long before we see the pattern.
I had never put much stock in such things, yet here I was, entangled in a history I hadn’t known was mine, in a land that should have been hostile, with a man who should have been my enemy.
And then there was Marek.
He was acting strangely today. I’d seen the look that passed between him and Adren when speaking of the Depths. For all of Marek’s bravado, and skill, he knew deep down what I did. What everyone who spoke of the Maelstrom Depths knew. What Adren had uncovered about how King Balthor was able to hide the Wind Crystal in them: by sacrificing those who carried it to their watery graves.
There was little chance he would make it out alive.
I closed my eyes, imagining myself standing on the dock, waiting for him to return just as I stood on the battlements back home, scanning the horizon in the hope that he had simply gone for a morning ride and would come back at any moment. This time, I’d not find him in The Moonlit Current. He would be gone, forever.
If only I had fallen for someone easier to love. A human who could help me secure Hawthorne. One without years of scars from a search for answers. One whose endless smiles didn’t mask a pain that ran deeper than I could have imagined but one I knew all too well. The pain of the loss of a loved one. The kind of pain from which you never truly heal but only learn to live with, some days better than others.
There were times I woke up and didn’t think about my parents immediately, even getting dressed and beginning my day without a memory intruding. But there were others—a comment about them, a vision of them sitting on the dais together in the hall—the smallest thing could trigger a sadness that welled inside me, having to live without them and their guidance.
When the door opened, a decidedly damp Marek stepped inside.
“You’ve been to the stone basin?” I asked as he tossed his satchel beside the bed and locked the door.
“I have, though I’ll admit my first thought on seeing it was that I wished you were still there.”
“You are wicked,” I said, my heart racing at the sight of him.
Marek ran his hand through his hair and then, as if realizing he’d slicked it back, shook his head. That unkept look was part of his appeal.
“I’ll not deny it.”
Every step he took toward me was predatory, and with each one, I had to remind myself to breathe. Without warning, he lifted me, carrying me to the bed. Just as quickly, he placed me on it and climbed up, positioning himself at my feet.
“Uh, Marek. What are you doing?”
