“More than one something, but Nerys is fine,” Marek said. “Caelum is with her.” His eyes narrowed knowingly. “Humans and immortals rarely partner well together.”
I could deny the thought had crossed my mind, but the denial would be hollow. I could hear the panic in my own voice, and undoubtedly Marek did as well.
“No,” I agreed. “They do not.”
Seemingly satisfied with my concurrence, he asked, “Caelum said you need to get to the Deep Archives?”
I was surprised the guard had told him. “He received my message?”
“He did, and would have come himself.” Marek grinned. “But knows I can get you there unseen. Let’s go.”
“Now?”
“Would you prefer I come back in the morn for your new escort to discover you missing?”
This would not work. “I need to… speak with someone there. Breaking into the Deep Archives will do me little good at this time of night.”
Marek crossed his arms. “Who said we were breaking in? And who do you need to speak with? I assumed this related to Nerys?”
As much as I wished to follow Nerithia’s instructions, I couldn’t lie to Marek any more than I had already. “It does not.”
If he was suspicious before, Marek was even more so now. “You won’t tell me the reason you wish to go there? Or who you must speak to?”
I thought quickly, weighing my options. This was likely the only opportunity, at least until after the festival, for me to get there. And while I could not tell Marek the reason, if there was any chance I could find this Seren, it was with him.
Give something to get something.
It was one of the first things I learned, being a human spy among immortals and finding myself in situations such as these.
“The mist?”
With a reluctant flick of his hand, as effortless as Nerys, Marek filled my chamber with a silencing mist. I waited for it to settle.
“Though it doesn’t relate directly to Nerys, getting there may be important in helping us to open the Gate.” If I had any other choice, I wouldn’t continue. But fully trusting Marek was not a luxury I could afford. “In addition to the Tidal Pearl, both the Wind Crystal and Stone of Mor’Vallis are needed. As we stand here, there is an attempt to recover both from King Balthor. I don’t know if speaking to this Seren will help achieve that goal, but it’s possible, and I intend to capitalize on any possibility to help the king and princess of Aetheria reunite Elydor with the human realm once again.”
During my speech, Marek leaned against the door as casually as if he had all the time in the world, his sharp eyes betraying an alertness that made it clear he missed nothing.
“It is Nerys’s wish, as it is mine and all humans’,” I continued, “to see the Gate reopened. Our contributions to Elydor are everywhere, and the cruelty of cutting ties with families who’ve waited nearly thirty years to be reunited, something I seek to rectify.”
“I also believe it should be reopened. As do all who recognize the value of humans. But your timing sucks. I also fail to see how finding this… Seren… will help achieve such a goal.”
My shoulders fell. “So you’ve not heard of her? Or him?”
Marek’s lopsided grin was my answer. “Her. I’ll admit to not spending much time at the Archives. Or reading any books, for that matter. But I know of Seren.”
That, I believed.
“Get dressed.”
He was taking me, and I wouldn’t waste the opportunity.
It was only after we slipped from my chamber, through empty corridors and secret pathways which spilled onto the beach, that we spoke again.
“A secret entrance?”
“One few know of and ever fewer use. Be careful where you step.”
We made our way around a rocky outcropping. The shore was nestled between towering cliffs with foliage spilling over its edges, creating a canopy of green that obscured the view from above. Hidden in a cove, a sleek and compact vessel.Tidechaser.