Page 78 of Across an Endless Sea

Even a hermit in the Deep Caves has somehow heard about the Blade Prince.

I nod. “Yes. Danu thought I could turn him to our side, but I failed.”

A long and thought-filled silence fills the space. Marlblew can’t seem to stop moving his hands. Even when he’s done with the fish, he twists his hands together in a nervous way, eyes shifting from place to place.

Finally, they land on my wrists, and narrow.

“Shackled?” he asks, cocking his head.

Of course, I’m not wearing the same heavy iron shackles as the others. I grimace and hold out my bracelet.

“I’m sensitive to iron,” I admit. “This was… all Caed needed.”

It feels like admitting a huge weakness, but Marlblew just nods, leans over, and yanks the bangle free like it’s nothing. The ring of silver and iron clatters to the ground with a pealing sound, and I sigh in relief, rubbing the skin where it was. My wrist feels lighter, even though it was a delicate thing.

Now I have a chance. Perhaps not enough to take on a tunnel wyrm, but definitely enough to put Caed on his ass for everything he’s done since my last rebirth.

To my shame, I get so caught up in fantasies of slapping Caed with Maeve’s strength that I completely forget about my rescuer’s presence until he speaks up again a few minutes later.

“What of Diana’s other sons? Are they still alive?”

Wondering at his sudden interest in my family, I reply slower this time, “Apparently so. Florian has only told me a little about them.”

Marlblew snorts. “They stayed away during your childhood? I can’t imagine that. Dare must’ve broken you out of the temple at least a dozen times.”

I shake my head. “I’ve never met them. I was raised in the mortal realm. Why are you so interested?”

Silence. He fidgets on the spot, then twists to stoke the fire.

He’s avoiding the question, and for a long time, I think he won’t answer.

“I had another name,” he finally murmurs, glancing at me before running his hands together again. “Agh, but they might not have told you. I didn’t leave in the best fashion.” He spins, looking me in the eye. “Bramwell, but my family calls me—”

My breath catches, and the tiny sound stops him mid-sentence. It doesn’t matter.

“Bram.” It makes so much sense. The youngest brother, whose gift was trap making, who reportedly vanished without a trace almost a century ago. “You’ve been here all this time? Florian has been searching for you ever since you disappeared.”

No wonder he wanted to know about my brothers—ourbrothers. He must have missed his family terribly.

He and Florian have completely different colouring—which I suppose is unsurprising given our mother had three different mates—but their face structure is similar. I imagine they might once have had the same mannerisms, but if Bram has been down here for a hundred years, I’m not surprised that his people skills are rusty.

“How have you survived all this time?” An uncomfortable thought hits me. “You weren’t… captured by the Fomorians, were you?”

Of course he was. How else would he have gotten here? But they can’t have known who he was, or surely they’d have used him as a bargaining chip. I can’t imagine my mother would’ve let her son rot away here.

Right?

Twenty-Five

Caed

My face is still sore, but that doesn’t stop someone from slapping my cheeks to wake me. I try to wave them off, then realise that my arms are still bound. With a sigh, I reach for my magic, intending to scare off the slapper, only to find…

Nothing.

My swords aren’t there. I can feel the power that I use to summon them, but it’s sealed away. Out of reach.

True fear, the likes of which I’ve rarely felt before, ricochets down my spine. Being powerless in Fellgotha is a death sentence.

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