Page 143 of The Sea of Zemira (The Zemiran Chronicles 1)

The sun had not fully risen, but enough light beamed above the horizon, allowing Nola to see through the trees. The morning had come quickly, though sleep was impossible. Despite the attempt to stay warm in Elijah’s arms, her clothes remained damp throughout the night, and the ground’s rocky surface caused her to shift every few minutes. The prince, however, slept soundly.

After she left the cave, she looked around. No sign of any of the sirens, well, whatever the sirens had become.Nola felt a strange disconnect within her body, like she was becoming detached from herself. She shook her head, blaming the sleepless, cold night.

“Are you ready?” the prince asked as Nola walked back into the cave. There was a moment of silence as she stared blankly at the cave’s surroundings, not understanding where they were exactly.

“What?” she asked, the sleepless night taking effect. Every step she took or word that left her mouth felt aimless.

Elijah’s eyes softened. “Nola, are you okay?” he asked. She felt his hand on her chin, but in an instant, he pulled back.

Nola blinked, their journey to the cave dawning on her. She wanted to run and flee to the sea in hopes he did not stop her. Or try to change her mind.

She nodded hesitantly. “Yes. Let’s get this over with,” she said, turning on her heel to follow the prince.

There was an awkward silence between them. Elijah looked as if he, for a moment, questioned their purpose in that horrible place. But it would not stop him, for he had waited twenty years to bring his mother back.

“This way,” the prince said as he turned to a trail near the cliff. The rising sun had dried the mud, leaving it hard enough so they would not slip.

Once at the top, Nola heard a waterfall on the other side of a rock’s peak. As they turned the corner, they both took a deep breath when they finally saw the cave’s entrance. The atmosphere quieted around them aside from the water splashing into a gorgeous turquoise lake.

Crotona seemed like a different place when the sun was up in the sky. It gave them a sense of peace as they walked around the lake to enter the cavern. Elijah held out a hand for Nola to take, helping her down the stone-carved stairs. They traveled down the rock corridor before reaching a chamber with a gate, thankfully, unlocked.

“I can feel its power.” He pointed to a room at the end of the third tunnel. “The Kroneon is in there.”

Nola followed him, even when her mind told her to run in the opposite direction. Suddenly, an unsettling feeling struck the siren; those creatures were still out there. Their sole purpose was to protect the weapon, and they were disturbing that sacred place.

“Right here,” Elijah said.

They entered a room with tall ceilings and a small opening to the sky. A ray of light shined into the cave, allowing them to see the space around them.

Nola’s eyes immediately drew to the ancient petroglyphs covering the walls. Most of them were of the sea: the water, the sea folk, and—.

“Is that?” Nola asked, running her finger over a drawing of a compass right beneath a sea craft. To the right was a woman, her hands outstretched, and carved stones surrounded her.

“The weapon was created by a sorceress,” Elijah said. “My birth mother, Gal’s, great, great-grandmother.”

The siren turned to look at him. “What do you know about the weapon?” Nola asked.

A side smirk grew on Elijah’s lips. “The Kroneon was created for the sea folk. It was meant to protect the Kingdom of the Undersea, not to create war.”

She looked back, her gaze wandering slowly up the wall.

“But that is exactly what it did,” she said.

Nola felt the prince by her side, looking at the drawings with her. “Yes. Once all the races knew about it, they fought and killed to find it. Twenty years ago, the weapon was found by your birth father, and the Fae thought they could claim it. But it never belonged to the Fae. And it never will.”

Elijah reached out and ran his finger over the compass’s drawing, then turned, facing an altar in the far-right corner of the room. There, at the center, was the compass.

Nola stared at Elijah, but then her eyes noticed other jewels and troves around them.

“What is all this?” she asked.

“These caves are ancient, Nola. Most have been here for centuries—it is King Argon’s treasure.”

Large, open-lid chests on each corner, covered in sparkling jewels and gems of all colors and shapes, sparkled throughout the room.

The siren arched a brow. “This is a pirate’s dream,” she said. “Lincoln has been looking for this place for over a decade.” Nola looked around again; a small temptation of taking a little bit of here and there grew within her. But that was not the reason they were there.

They both sauntered over to the altar. Nola rested her palms on the surface, staring at the compass. Her eyebrows lifted, mesmerized by such a simple, ordinary device. It did not shine or radiate power, yet its use was as powerful as a raging storm.

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