Page 50 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
It was lust. It was greed. It was divine. It was beautiful.
She needed to know more . . .seemore.
Nibbling her lip, Kora hesitantly approached the wooden trunk, leaning over to glimpse the talisman. It had returned to its original form—a darkened-night shade of blue, and teardrop shaped. She picked it up, examining it. Had she imagined that, too? As her fingers gently traced the columns, a jolt of energy flew through her skin and, before her eyes, the talisman shone and moulded itself. Morphing.
Kora gasped as its dual colour returned, the end sharpening, twisting,evolving.Her core raged, as if it were reaching out to her. Hungrily. Her mind blanked, drowsiness sweeping over her eyes.
Instinctively, she placed the talisman back over her head, guided by an unknown force. The blue hue shone as she gracefully strolled to the window, her mind overwhelmingly empty. Except for a tiny scream, tearing from the depths of darkness of her broken mind. She couldn’t feel her body, and her control evaporated as she watched through her own eyes with horror.
Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup.
Her arm raised, stretching, reaching to the sky with her palm flat out, and the waters of the fountain bubbled and rippled. She couldn’t force her arms down. An invisible puppeteer was pulling the strings.
The ripple swelled, and the minty clear water trickled over the side, floating through the air. It trailed up the wisteria, twisting and turning, writhing with an unnerving aliveness before it latched onto Kora’s palm, coiling around her arm like a vice.
It travelled and grew, until tendrils of water were snaking and circling all around her body, creating a shimmering cleararmour as her uncontrolled body stared mindlessly out through the window. Dark spots dizzied her vision as she screamed from within her mental prison.This can’t be real.No.She’d thought last night had been a dream but . . .it was real?
Was she a mage?No. It had to be thisthingaround her neck.
“Remember,”her mouth spoke, but it was nothervoice. Kora cried from within, begging to be released from inky hands clasping at her soul.
“Remember,”it repeated with urgency. Suddenly, she fell, plummeting in an endless dark void. Her feet struck the sturdy terracotta tiles, the air of the open window graced her palm, and the coolness of the water circled her and rushed at her senses.
With a shuddering breath, as if she’d broken through deep water, her arm limply fell to her side and the water splashed to the floor, soaking into her rugs. Gaze transfixed on the fountain, she released a small, terrified sob as she placed one hand over her hammering chest. Over the dimming light of the talisman.
Utterly insane, indeed.
22
Kora stalked, her shoulders hunched and head bowed, winding through the narrow streets of the western side of the port town by Stormkeep Fortress. With a cloak covering her, she blended into the shadows of the leaning overhangs of crooked stores, mindfully skirting around any suspicious looking puddles.
After her spectacle with the fountain, she’d had to change again, this time opting for dark navy with golden stitching. Being seen in the empire’s colours this close to the slums would guarantee a mobbing—or worse. Besides, her undergarments had been uncomfortably wet from her tryst with Blake.
A faint store bell rang several feet in front of her intended path, and she darted into a nearby alleyway. Peering around the corner, two males exited the Silvermaid’s Emporium, chuckling to themselves as they held a peculiar glass bottle, filled with swirling, shimmering pink liquid.
“This’ll do it,” one spoke devilishly. “One sip of this, and I’ll be married to Lady Tornton.”
The other jostled him, swiping for the potion. “Hey! We paid half each—I’m using it, too.”
“Oh really? On whom?” the first filthy beggar leered.
“I fancy Lady Tornton, too.”
The two males halted by Kora’s alleyway, and she sunk further into the shadows, grasping at the hood of her cloak to cover her glaring white hair.
“You can’t steal my plan! I’m getting out of these shithole slums one way or another.”
“You’re just using Lady Tornton.” The second beggar pushed him aside, plucking the potion from the former’s grubby grasp. “I’m inlove.”
The first male spat on the floor, croakily laughing. “In love with a lady? How?”
“I work in her manor. She just needs to . . . notice me . . . that’s all. Then we’ll be together,ayterni.” Hastened steps followed his voice along the cobbled stones. A potion that could cause someone to fall in loveforever?
The first male cursed and lunged for the potion, igniting a sprawling fight, and the vial flew from their grasp, skittering across the waste-infested streets. Kora peeked from the shadows as they chased it between roving bodies walking up the path.
Dated stores lined the street, with market stalls popped up in front. Interspersing the buildings were aged, crumbling statues of the five Devani gods, their cracked hands turned out to accept prayers and offerings.
The western port town was all that remained of the old civilisation of Devania, before the conquest. Stormkeep Fortress had been erected in Azaria’s image, made the new capital of Aldara, leaving the western town to fade into history where it turned squalid with poverty and disease.
