Page 51 of Lore of the Tides

The rest of their party? Who? Syrelle, Lore’s captor? Any surviving sailors and guards who would lock them up the moment they had the chance? If so, why had they been woken first? Why had they been separated? A hundred more questions flitted through Lore’s mind, but she voiced none of them.

Finndryl looked to Lore. Lore gave a slight nod.

They might as well follow the siren to the queen.

It was clear they were out of their element, and there was no telling how long theSourcefrom the jellyfish sting... or thePuallas Kissas Cuan had called it... would provide them with the ability to breathe, see, and not be crushed by the weight of the tons of water above them.

Finndryl released the siren aide but kept the weapon firmly clasped in his grip. In a flash, the siren grabbed the Puallas jellies’ cage and dashed toward the door, only needing one powerful flutter of their tail. For a split second, Lore’s breath hitched, afraid they would close the door and lock them both in here once more, but the siren simply pulled the door open wider and waited for them to follow.

Finndryl entwined his fingers with Lore’s, their shared pulse a rhythmic counterpoint to the thrumming ocean. Together, they stepped through the doorway onto a path bathed in ethereal luminescence. The intoxicating scent of crisp, fresh salt enveloped Lore as she craned her neck, eyes widening in awe.

Above them stretched a liquid sapphire sky shimmering with ineffable depths.

“It’s a wonder we weren’t crushed by the pressure before waking,” Lore murmured as she took in the seemingly infinite expanse of water above them.

“That room is spelled to withstand pressure. That’s why the door was locked.”

Lore swallowed.

“If you had left the room, the spell would have been rendered useless. Without immediate access to the Puallas jellies, the two of you would have imploded within minutes, your bodies unable to withstand the weight.” The first thing she’d done was try to open the door. There was no denying it. She was completely out of her element. One wrong move here, and it would not just be her deathsentence, but Finndryl’s as well. “Even your bones would have been pulverized,” Cuan explained to Lore, their voice cheerful now that there wasn’t a spear poised to pierce their heart.

Apparently, Finndryl’s death threats hadn’t dimmed their spirit.

Lore and Finndryl followed Cuan through a mercantile district of a city. The shops were rounded, made from clay, stone, and coral. They looked abandoned. She stepped over what looked like a child’s toy that sat half-buried in a once-manicured public garden that was now filled with decaying plants. Small fish the size of Lore’s pinkie darted in and out of the planters, searching for food.

There was no one around, save them, and the darkness was eerie.

She moved closer to Finn, and he squeezed her hand. He was here with her, every step of the way. Lore glanced at him as he walked, head high, his eyes constantly scanning the abandoned city.

He didn’t have to say it, Lore felt it too. Reunited at last, nothing and no one would separate them again.

Walking underwater with the ease of walking on land was a peculiar sensation. Her skirt fluttered around her as if caught in a breeze, but otherwise, she could move as though she were on solid ground. The magic surrounding the Puallas Kiss was magnificent.

They pushed on until their surroundings took on more of a domestic feel. Rows and rows of homes, all abandoned. Caught in the current, a strip of torn fabric floated from an alley and snagged on Lore’s ankle. She stepped over an open satchel that had been discarded in the road.

At length, they met the border of the city in the form of a drop-off, a glistening ramp, the same width as the road, that led down and down. Glowing shells, the same ones that Lore had siphonedSourcefrom, adorned the fringe.

They paused at the pinnacle of the ramp. At its base, beneath the expanse of a seemingly endless sea, where even sunlight surrendered to the twilight depths, stood a palace.

A mosaic of coral, pearl, and crystal, the palace appeared sculpted by the currents themselves. The walls, a living colossus of coral, burst with sea life. Lore’s eyes alighted on countless spires, twirling and elegant, stretching toward the surface like the yearning arms of drowned lovers. Each spire was adorned with luminous shells, their soft glow illuminating the palace grounds.

The palace was so lovely, all radiant and shining, Lore almost didn’t notice the entire siren platoon posted at the gates—and the well-armed and armored soldiers weren’t just guarding the palace; it seemed that they were there to watch over every inhabitant in the kingdom. Families were set up all along the palace grounds, amid colorful steepled tents throughout the expanse like a strange, shimmering mirage born of a dream.

Laughter, music, and the low murmur of conversation drifted through the watery twilight, a patchwork of sounds that stitched a portrait of a kingdom under siege. Something had happened here... something requiring the inhabitants to abandon their homes and shops to lodge in the very shadow of their palace.

Lore’s skin prickled. How did she and Finndryl fit into all this?

An echo of Lore’s own unspoken questions, Finndryl’s eyes settled on the army before them, fixed in a probing gaze. The last few hours’ unpredictability seemed to weigh on him. He was unprepared for whatever would happen next, and it appeared that didn’t sit well with him.

There was a shallow trench carved in the sand at their feet, positioned between the city and the downward ramp to the palace. Lore tracked the indentation. The line extended in either direction, curving in a wide arc, a circle around the palace.

Finndryl made to take a step over the line, and Lore tugged on his hand.

“What is this line here?” Lore didn’t bother to suppress her suspicion. The line was perfectly formed; the water, kelp, or various fish should have marred the perfect arc.

Magic was at play here.

“You will not be harmed; the mark of Puallas Kiss grants you both safe passage through our shield,” answered Cuan with a polite dip of their head.

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