Page 14 of Heir of Autumn
Sylvain licked his lips, grabbed me by the throat, pushed me down onto the bed.
“Of course, oh summoner. I live to serve.”
6
Sunlight streamedthrough the intricate glasswork of the Oriel of Water, vivid colors dancing across our faces, across the floor. Each oriel bore designs that hinted at what awaited within, and this one was no different.
I marveled at the deep blue ocean and sky in the stained glass, the many-tentacled monstrosity that lashed at the waves. Sylvain stood to my right, and Satchel hovered between us, the three of us studying the great window with wonder, psyching ourselves up to enter.
Oh, and the evil twink was there, too.
“Right,” I said, addressing all three of them. “We’re about as prepared as we’ll ever be.”
I reached for Aphrodite’s medallion, muttering the words to the spell of water-breathing. Faint bubbles of light surrounded each of our heads, very much like the helmets that human divers of old would wear.
The bubbles shimmered, then faded, their magic holding invisibly in place. Sometimes the most important of magical spells could be more subtle, and nothing felt more important than the privilege of staying alive and breathing underwater.
“Nicely done, Locke,” Evander Skink said.
I stared at him, waiting for the inevitable insult, but nothing followed.
“Uh, right, then. Here we go. Let’s do this.”
We took a running start, my heart pounding to match my steps as they struck the stone floor. Together Sylvain and I leapt into the stained glass window, Satchel whooping as he whizzed forward between our heads. And somewhere behind us Evander lingered, too good to be vulnerable and allow himself a shred of excitement. Whatever, man.
The stained glass shattered in silence, exactly like the other oriels before it. Fragments of the window rushed past us, glimmering jewels in the deep blues and greens of the ocean, followed by smaller shards to honor the little things that lived within. Coral, orange, purple, pink, every piece a segment of the great tentacled creature depicted on the window.
And the air stopped rushing, the gooey, warm sensation of penetrating the oriel’s membrane falling away. In its place, a balmy wind, carrying with it the scent of salt and ocean. I closed my eyes and laughed as sea spray spattered my cheeks, surprised at myself, at my own confidence. I blinked, clearing the seawater from my eyes. My mouth fell open.
The Oriel of Water was a world of pure ocean, the overlapping realities of luminal space held together by immense magical forces. The watery realm stretched out before me, an endless expanse of blue-green sea. Scattered islands dotted its surface. Some were mere dots on the horizon, while others were larger, rockier, rising from their depths like stony fingers reaching for the sky.
I thought I’d seen plenty in the other oriels, but nothing could have prepared me for this, the sheer scale of it all. Yet it wasn’t the size of the oriel’s ocean that captivated me, but the odd sensation of peace and tranquillity. The waters seemed so calm, the sunlight glinting off the waves in a dazzling display of color.
“This is incredible,” I breathed, my mind a jumble of wonder, excitement, and fear. The ocean was so vast, just miles upon miles of water stretching on in every direction. All this time I’d been fussing over a spell of water-breathing when we should have been worried about a boat.
But one thing did strike me as strange. I scanned the waves, checking for signs of marine life.
“Huh,” I muttered. “Only a few fish here and there. You’d think there’d be more sea creatures around. Maybe some jellyfish, or a shark.”
Sylvain chuckled. “Be careful what you wish for, Lochlann.”
A great cloud passed overhead, darkening the patch of rock we were gathered on. Satchel gasped and pointed at the sky.
“Look!”
That wasn’t a cloud.
A whale was crossing the sky above us, swimming through the air as if it was water.
Panic gripped my chest, made my throat clench, but it immediately passed. We could breathe, couldn’t we? The air here was still air, even without the influence of our water-breathing spell. And yet the air was water, too. It didn’t make any sense, and yet it did. A spout of water leapt out of the whale’s blowhole, like it just wanted to fuck with me a little.
Expensive footsteps clicked behind us, dainty feet bound in shoes that probably cost as much as my rent. I rolled my eyes and glanced over my shoulder to check. Of course Evander was wearing something stylish and impractical, a pair of slender oxfords that would no doubt get scratched up against these rocks.
His eyes trailed down to my feet, his lashes fluttering as he squinted judgmentally. I looked down at my own scuffed and rugged adventuring boots, a little smug about how I’d made the practical, and let’s face it, correct fashion choice. But another set of footsteps came, one that I wasn’t expecting. I turned to look at the entrance, the fabric of reality rippling again.
My cheeks lifted, my face split by an enormous smile. “Namirah? Is that really you?”
I blinked, then rubbed my eyes as she stepped into the oriel, her hair streaming like lustrous black silk in the breeze. She flipped it over her shoulder and scoffed, but playfully.
