Page 43 of Lore of the Tides

Either way, his time had come.

Lore let her eyes flutter closed, imagining that she held both books. That her people were leaving Duskmere behind for good. She would find a better place. Build walls. A fortress if she had to. She would devise a spell that would incinerate the fae on the spot—crossing the threshold into their village would be their instant, painful death.

She frowned. Obviously, not all fae were malevolent. Maybe she could call up a permanent fog instead—any fae with ill intentions toward the humans would vanish in the fog forever. If their intentions were honorable, they would be allowed to locate the gate... but none could enter. It would be a completely fae-free town.

SCREEEEEECH

Every muscle in Lore’s body locked up, petrified by a horrific symphony of sound that ripped through the room. No, the entire ship. Heart hammering against her ribs, a trapped bird desperate for escape, she sat up, looking around wildly.

It wasn’t the usual creak and groan of weathered wood; she’d grown used to that. Nor the sound of the wind inflating the sails, which sometimes echoed through the ship. No, this was a bone-jarring grind, the sound of beams being crunched.

SCREECH

Again the sound tore through the room, only this time it was accompanied by a tremor that rattled her teeth. The floor beneath her tilted violently, throwing her against the wall like a discarded rag doll.

The ship stood frozen, a captive in an unseen grip. Terror choked her, a viper coiling in her gut, which was shouting at her that this wasn’t a rogue tempest or an anchor caught on an uncharted reef.

This was something ancient, primal, a leviathan awoken from nightmares in the ocean’s deepest trenches.

Gods, was it Takuma?

Shivers spread down Lore’s spine that felt like the icy caress of death.

Lore clambered to her feet and rushed to the door, trying the handle. Locked, as she knew it would be. She made her hands into fists and pounded on the door. “Hello? What’s happening out there?” She waited, listening for a reply, pressing her ear to the door when one didn’t immediately come. “Cecil? Are you there?”

What had the power to halt a ship this size? In such a way that she would be thrown against the wall?

Lore tried not to imagine tentacles, thick as a mast, rising from the abyss, dripping venom that hissed as it burned its way through each deck of theLavender Lark. An obscene mass of barbed claws, scraping across the hull to pull the ship into its gaping maw.

She raced to the window and thrust the curtain wide, terrifiedshe would see a single, enormous eye, like a burning ember, breaking the surface of the sea, but there was nothing there but endless wine-red water of the Dread Abyss.

She rapped harder on the door, ignoring the sharp sting in her knuckles. She needed her grimoire.

She needed Finndryl.

“Cecil, let me out! If the ship goes down, and I’m locked in here, I won’t even have a chance.”

Lore heard the thud of something heavy hitting the level above. Someone, a guard or one of the few sailors left, screamed, a bloodcurdling sound that ended abruptly. People shouted to each other, their cries echoing down the corridor, pitched with horror. The sound of boots running to and fro above her—and louder footsteps out in the hall—and then—

She felt the ship lurch again, a sickening tilt, then a dead stop. Her stomach heaved as the floorboards trembled beneath her boots.

Lore hammered harder on the door, her hands bruising. “Let me out!”

But no one came. She felt utterly alone, adrift in the deafening silence punctuated only by an occasional shudder or thump.

She rested her forehead against the hardwood. Goddess, shewasn’tgoing to die in here.

Maybe she could open the door by dislodging the handle?

Lore studied her room. Then shoved the washbasin off the small table, not caring when the porcelain shattered on the floor. She picked up the table and, with a shout, heaved it over her head directly into the doorknob.

The wood table was dented, and a corner broke off, clattering to the floor.

But the doorknob stayed firmly in place.

The room began darkening with shadows. Something was obstructing the window. People. They climbed the ropes like ants on a stem, their bodies briefly blocking the light, cursed shadows.

Thistle and sage.This wasn’t an attack by a sea beast... people were boarding the ship.

---