Page 46 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
She was never sure why Erick always urged her to trim her hair short. Whenever she’d challenged it, he always had a different reason. To prevent her catching lice from other crew members, to give her a masculine presence when commanding a ship, or to show off her scar and make her appear threatening.
She gently curled a short strand by her temple around her finger. “I think I want to grow it out.”
Erick paused. His gaze lingered on the reaching scar flicking over her cheekbone and traced the curve of her brow. Icy brown eyes blinked, the edges crinkling with age.
“We’ll discuss it later.”
An exhale of disappointment was all she managed as he marched to Blake, directing him into the sweeping glass doors of the manor.
Once they disappeared, Kora passed through the archway into the tiled courtyard, her step wavering. Standing by the flowing, three-tiered fountain, she splashed water onto her face and neck, washing away the sickening heat coiled around her. The water was cool, crisp, with a scent of . . . mint.
She stilled, cupping her hands under the flowing water, and brought it to her lips, taking a deep gulp. Her knotted stomach finally eased, and she moaned as she devoured another cupped gulp. The depths of her mind tickled, and she observed the baying lemon trees, interspersed with large, vibrant green bushes. Prowling over to one, the minty scent overpowered her senses, burning her nose.
Her brows knitted as she peered back at the fountain. Dainty, green leaves floated on the surface. A warm breeze drifted through the green-and-white mosaic-tiled courtyard, ruffling her hair, and circling her body before wafting upwards.
Alright then, time to the follow the wind. Completely normal thing to do.
The current led her to the trellis attached to the corner tower of the manor overlooking the courtyard. Chunks of broken ivy and purple wisteria clustered on the ground by her feet. She craned her neck up to her bedroom window, the malachite-green shutters wide open.
“Remember.”
With a gasp, Kora’s hand shot to her chest, gripping the talisman resting underneath her shirt. It warmed at her touch. The sound of flowing water in the fountain roared in her ears, and she yelped as the water sloshed, spilling over the lip of the stoned fountain’s edge and spooling onto the mosaic tiles.
Somethingdeep within her yawned, as if it were beginning to wake up.
Wake up from what? She had no idea.
20
Freshly bathed, Kora dressed in a simple, sage-green tunic and trousers, with silver stitching and buttons circling up the curve of her collarbone. Flying through the black-and-white hallways, she snagged crystalised ginger bites from the kitchen pantry, scoffing them to chase away the final dregs of the hangover. As she ran, she wolfed down a chocolate tart in three mouthfuls, licking her fingers, and rounded the corner into the grand parlour room.
The tension between Erick and Blake was palpable. She glanced to the glass windows, adorned with heavy black drapes and gold tassels, wishing for her familiar, comforting breeze to waft in.
Cadell Manor was one of the finer homes within the mid-district. Constructed from large, pale stone, with green shutters lining tall windows, and arched glass and iron doors. Most rooms were furnished with exquisite mahogany and oak furniture, and decorated with swathes of cream and black.
The ceilings rose high, and Kora lingered by the mahogany table, large enough to seat up to twenty, with Erick to her right, and Blake to her left. Coffee permeated the air, and her fingers trailed over the dainty cup and saucer on the table as she stifled a yawn. The run had been a stupid idea.
An aged map of the Azarian Islands covered the shining woodwork, candles in brass holders placed on the curling, frayed edges. Three islands were outlined in green: Aldara, and Talmon, with its smaller, sister island—Otrovia. In the centre of Shaurock Sea, was Peril Cove, stained black, and to the south-west, covered in grey and marked in red, was Galen. The enemy.
She tunnelled on the vast space between Aldara and Talmon. A thick black line scored across the map, separating Aldara from Talmon and Otrovia.
The Black Abyss.
A deep, dark trench, miles away from Narrowfen Pass, that swallowed any vessel daring enough to cross its path. Rumours circled, entailing dangerous sea creatures that lurked deep within the Black Abyss, and some claimed it led to Davy Jones’ Locker.
The only way to reach Talmon Island was to sail around Peril Cove, venturing close to Galen, and risking an ambush by pirates. Something Kora knew all too well. Bree had done just that when she’d heard Kora disappeared. Her heart panged. Herroyalfriend had sailed those dangerous waters to find her.
“You’re looking better, Marwood.”
Erick’s scrutinising stare zeroed in on Blake’s side, and Kora also cast her gaze over her first mate. He’d always been good at recovering from battles. Always the first to come out of the med bays healed and raring to fight again. Her red haze encroached the edges of her mind. No—she couldn’t start thinking about that, about how his family would batter him senseless.
“Thank you. I am healing well.” Blake dipped his head.
“Quite you are. An impressive feat.”
“We discovered some things on our journey that we need to escalate immediately.” Blake cleared his throat.
Erick glanced between the two of them, his face neutral. He’d found time to change, donning standard black trousers and a waistcoat, with his favoured burgundy shirt. It suited him well. His brown hair was ruffled, waving around his stern face. He gestured for them to continue.
