Page 60 of Lore of the Tides

The shimmering light emanating from within captivated her. The pearl’s beauty was undeniable, but what truly fascinated Lore was the glow ofSourceradiating from its core. It pulsed outward in waves as though the pearl did not only possessSource, but wasmadeof it. Lore circled the pearl, careful to keep her distance from the twelve siren draped in identical flowing vestments circling the pearl overhead, their haunting voices raised in rhapsodic worship.

Queen Naia floated onto a bench with a sigh, rubbing her back. Her magnificent tail swished absently, carving patterns in the sand.She looked at the pearl, her lips trembling, devoid of the humor she’d displayed in the parlor.

“This is our Mother Pearl,” Queen Naia began. “A gift from Anuya, Mother of all Gods, the Goddess of Vitality, Giver of Life and Home. Before Mother Pearl, siren were doomed to live in darkness.”

“If you could call it living,” huffed Prince Jaladri, positioning himself behind his queen.

“Rightly so.” Queen Naia continued, “We had no community, no language, no spirituality or home. Anuya saw the plight of her children, and it filled her with sorrow. One day, she asked her lover to crack open her chest and remove her beating heart from her body. He only complied because seeing his true love in such torment pained him.

“When he held her still-beating heart in his hands, she bid him rip it into thirteen pieces. Twelve to carve into pearls, gifts for her siren children, light to guide her children into a better life. One to place back in her chest, so she could continue to live and watch over us.

“Once she had shaped her heart into pearls, she flew into the sky and cast them all around the world. One for every great siren kingdom. Eight of them in the depths of the oceans. Two in the deepest lakes. One, long dead, its grave now a desert in Ma Serach, the ocean that once was its home long since dried up. And one is in an underwater cave system in the heart of the bottommost continent, Ethuella.

“Our ancestors, drawn by the light, moved to the pearls and rejoiced. Basking in their light, they could now see the beauty in each other, warm their children, build houses, and even cultivate food, for the sunlight that fuels your landers’ food does not reach down here. Without our Mother Pearl, we cannot grow food.

“Soon, we learned that we could use its power for more than the basics. It could power our shields and protect us from the demonic Nikoryxia and the Pasvils that hunted us in the dark. Our empires thrive as long as we each have our pearl...” The queen’s voice broke, a sob escaping her lips.

Prince Jaladri’s arm encircled her frail shoulders. They exchanged a glance, and she drew strength from her love before continuing. “You might have noticed that my city is empty. Our gardens, save for this one, are barren. Our Mother Pearl is—”

The pearl behind Lore flickered and went out.

The world was cast into darkness.

The clerics raised their prayer in a fervor, the unnerving sound filling the void. Terror shot through Lore, and she instinctively reached out, clasping Finn’s arm. He was there, beside her, a comforting presence as he leaned into her. Something he’d been doing since they’d studied in the Exile.

“—failing. As you can see.” Queen Naia’s voice trembled.

“Do not be frightened.” Jaladri’s voice was calm, though thick with grief. “Mother Pearl will gift us with light in a few moments. Ah, see, here it is.”

The pearl flickered back to life, its glorious, powerful glow whirring through the garden, and Lore realized that the palace towers, visible over the walls of the amphitheater, also flickered into sight, as though also coming back to life. That must have been what happened when she’d woken up—a momentary darkness caused by the pearl’s failure. And again, when they entered the palace for the first time.

“But it’s not just the sporadic darkness that is a problem; its very power is dwindling. Our shield, which once encircled all of Lapis Deep, is barely strong enough to cover the palace grounds, and only remains in place during the dark times because our alchemists are selflessly channeling all their power to it.

“Half of my population have absconded and, as we speak, make the perilous trek to our closest neighboring empires. Families have been torn apart and hunted by the Nikoryxia, who have been attacking in droves, picking off the old, frail, and young and draining their magic. Those who have chosen to stay have had to abandon their homes and move onto the palace grounds, but every day the shield weakens, the darkness increases.

“Soon we will all have to make the same choice: be lost to the dark or leave my kingdom to die. Our nearest allies, Black Diamond and Silver Waves, have offered us sanctuary, but we will be foreigners there. Refugees. And my crown will be forfeited.”

Lore blinked back hot tears. She knew what it was to live under the thumb of another, the land not your own. She wouldn’t wish this plight on anyone.

“That is where you come in.” The queen rose off the bench, gliding toward Lore, and clasped Lore’s hands between her own. Her fingers were wrinkled, the skin thin, sliding over brittle bones beneath. A grandmother’s hands. They felt soft and fragile. “We heard the whisper of you on the wind. Something powerful. Something new. And then, three days ago, we felt that power, even down here. We thought we might have found the answer to our problem. And your grimoire, this book, like you, gives off the same essence as our Mother Pearl.”

The queen gripped Lore’s hands in her own; though they shook with a tremor, her grasp was strong. “We hope, we pray, that with your help our Pearl will be restored to its original splendor. Our kingdom will thrive once more.” The queen let go of one hand and placed a palm on Lore’s cheek. “It seems wrong for one so old to ask you to be our savior, but we have much to give. Jewels, gold, a ship full of fish, whatever you wish; help us and it will be yours.”

“I can try. I will try. But I do not know that I can. What will happen if I fail?”

“Puallas jellies are one of the few creatures who, like us, rely on the pearl for their spring of life. When its power wanes for good, so will the mark of their sacred kiss. We will return you landers to the surface before I cast aside my crown and my people lose their home.”

“How long until... it gets to that point?”

“The failures have been more frequent every day, and at the rate that the shield is shrinking, we think a week, no more.”

“A week? That’s all?”

“I’m afraid so.” Queen Naia swam a distance and made a clicking sound, and Cuan swam forward and placed the latticed chest containing the grimoire in her hands.

“We watched you for a few days; some of my kind can turn themselves into seabirds, which is very convenient when you wish to spy on landers and remain unseen. My spies have deduced that being in possession of this book, the power within, will grant you the chance to take yourselves to the surface and leave us to our plight, if you wish to.” The queen’s hands clenched around the bones of the cage, and she raised her chin. “We are strangers to you. I have no doubt there is somewhere you would much rather be, with people who are not strangers. So I will return your book to you in the hopes that you will not abandon us without at least trying to help.” Naia shifted the cage to one hand and waved her free one in front of it. Where there had not been a visible opening before, the water shifted around the bones, pulling and rearranging them until there was an opening just big enough for Lore to pull the book free.

Lore reached her hands inside with some trepidation, perhaps an unfounded fear that the siren queen would readjust the bones to trap her hands in the cage. But she shoved the thought from her mind, pushed her hands into the cage, and pulled her tome free.

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