Page 1 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
Prologue
Finlay
Promise me you won’t die.”
“It’s a bit hard to promise that.” Finlay cautiously glanced down the cobbled street before placing a comforting hand on his partner’s cheek. It was risky, and he tried memorising the smooth planes of John’s features; the way his brow furrowed at the surprisingly gentle gesture.
Orange dazzled the sky, like sparkling citrine. The sun hung low in the horizon, and a warm, summer breeze entwined their bodies, with a promise of adventure—and urgency—awaiting Finlay. Heneededto do this, but gods’ darn it, his heart was breaking at leaving.
“Then promise me you’ll come back.” John shifted, his heels rocking on the wooden porch of his tavern. Finlay’s chest tightened at the familiar squeak of wood, his breathing restricted, and he stared into his partner’s striking blue eyes.
“You’re all I’ve got,” John’s voice strained, and he cleared his throat.
“I’ll always come back to you, John,” Finlay spoke quietly, dark eyes darting around at their surroundings. “I promise Iwillalways find you. Together,ayterni—right?”
John’s eyes widened in alarm at the old language rolling off Finlay’s tongue, followed by a tentative smile at their endearment foreternal.
A soft whine sounded, and Finlay glanced down to his loyal hound sat beside John’s side. He stroked the gossamer-black fur, fingers shakily brushing over the collared chain, and placed a soft kiss on the dog’s head. The pooch reeked of stale ale, cigar ash and aged wood, the scent of home curling up Finlay’s nose, and he inhaled deeply.
“Conan, take care of John for me.” Finlay winked at his partner, before straightening his black-and-green uniform. He brushed his long hair out of his eyes with a trembling hand and flicked his wrists, warding off the persistent shakes.That’s going to be a problem.
“Aye, you know he will.” John smiled tightly but his eyes were alight with worry. “Temporarily—because you’ll be coming home. Alive.”
Finlay swallowed a panicked laugh and grasped his partner’s slender hand. “I need to find her . . . we’re running out of time, John. She’s everything we’ve been working towards.”
John only nodded once, his stare wary of the bustling life in the street passing them by. They were blessed by the gods to own a tavern on the main street, with a constant influx of sailors and weary souls to fill their coffers. It was much needed after Finlay had estranged from his family . . . if he could even call themthat.
“Two weeks,” John spoke, his sharp voice cutting through Finlay’s bitterness. “Come back with the girl. Then we can get the clan ready to move.”
Another reason for Finlay’s estrangement. He descended from pioneers of malice, hardship, andjudgement, who thrived under the empire’s reign of these islands. The clan he’d built with John was the opposite. Survivors in a world recovering from war—two wars in fact—who sought to eliminate the infestation of the Talmon Empire.
“If it even is her.” Finlay sheathed his family’s broadsword behind his back. Its weight was a continuous burden; a mark of shame running down his spine. Hatred filled him at what—who—the sword represented.
Sun rays bounced off a shining gleam of Talmon silver parading down the street, stopping cloaked civilians, searching their baskets, and confiscating weaponry. Their clan had caused a stir lately and, as a result, searches and surveillance had increased, and rebellions were lighting in people’s hearts. Only small embers, but it was enough to spark unrest amongst nobility.
“We can only hope.” John took Finlay’s trembling hands into his steady, rough palms, chapped from years of bartending at their tavern. “Remember the plan. Thestory. And don’t. Get. Caught.”
Finlay shook out a wavering breath, rolling his shoulders. “And don’t die.”
“Aye, that would be nice. We’d like you back in one piece.”
John flashed a grim smile of sharp teeth, and the heavy weight on Finlay’s back burrowed into his chest. A horn blared from the nearby harbour and John let out a gasp, woeful blue eyes shimmering with tears. He released Finlay’s trembling hands.
“I have to go.” Gods, it wasreallyhappening. Ten long, hard years finally coming to an inevitable end. Finlay’s pulse fluttered as he slung a knapsack of minor belongings over his shoulder, the strap biting into his slender frame.
“We’ll be waiting for you.” John gestured to Conan, his dual tails wagging between his two owners, unaware of what was unfolding. “Be careful, Finlay,please.”
“Always. I’ll miss you.”
John opened his mouth, but quickly shut it as a nearby guard shouldered his way past them to the entrance of the tavern.
“If you’re joining the ship I think you are, you’d better hurry,” the guard grunted, his gruff tone directed at Finlay. “The captain’s in a foul mood and she’s casting off early, eager to set sail.” His expression was pinched with irritation. “Bloody woman-captain, what’s this world coming to?” He ducked into the tavern, bellowing at the barmaid for an ale.
John tightly nodded, his mouth settling into a thin line as he retreated into the shadows of their haven, despite theguests.
With a tear in his eye, Finlay turned his back on his small,truefamily, and ventured down the main cobbled street towards the thrumming heart of the port, which was crawling with citizens, all rushing to bid farewell to their loved ones. Throngs of women and children waved and cried, and Finlay bitterly scoffed. No one was here to bid him farewell. The empire quashed anythingdifferentto their values, and he’d had no choice but to become an expert at hiding in plain sight.
Each step was an eternity, his feet dragging like stone through mud. He couldn’t mess this up. This was his last chance to right his wrongs—to right this messed up world.
