“Aunt Marin… where’s my father?”
“He’s okay,” I said, breath sawing in and out. I tried to calm it so I wouldn’t scare her. But there wasn’t enough time. “I need your help. Can you do that? Can you be really brave?”
Annie nodded, lips trembling as she swiped at her tears and slid off the couch. I crossed the room, stumbling slightly, and stole the jar of sea glass off the desk. Outside, the storm clouds loomed, swollen and dark like bruises. Wind rattled the windows, shook the manor’s bones, and sent loose tiles tumbling through the overgrown garden.
“Here.” I poured a handful of sea glass into Annie’s palm. “We need to place the glass at every corner of the house. Just drop them on the floor, okay?”
Annie closed her fingers over the glass and pressed her fist to her chest, nodding hard before darting into the hall.
I bent over the desk, clutching its edge to steady myself. My head swam. The remnants of Tivara’s magic clung to me like barnacles on a ship, embedded too deep for even the sea glass to pull free. Not until the witch was dead.
The floor shifted under me, but I blinked away the dizziness and staggered after Annie. I dropped sea glass into corners and rooms, dragging myself from one to the next. My legs trembled, but I kept moving, creating a ring of glass—my makeshift conduit.
Annie waited in the library when I returned, her wide gaze fixed on the window.
I tugged her away. “Don’t look, Annie. Close your eyes. It’s almost over.”
She climbed back onto the sofa, and I dropped to my knees in the center of the room. The last bits of sea glass spilled around me.
I removed the shard from my belt and slipped it from its sheath. Colors swirled like a storm inside the crystal. I drew my dagger, glanced at Annie, then dragged the blade across my palm. A gasp hissed through my teeth. Pain sparked down my arm as blood welled, dripping onto the floor.
Pressing my hand against the shard, I felt a jolt as the jagged edges of the relic shimmered, dripping seawater from it like condensation.
Next, I grabbed the largest piece of sea glass. Blood stained its translucent surface. It pulsed wildly, energy throbbing up my arm and into every part of me.
My head dropped forward, and I whispered through clenched teeth, “This is for you, Dad. I’m keeping my promise.”
I clapped both hands together—the shard against the glass.
Light exploded.
The circle of sea glass lit up like a constellation, and the whole house glowed like it was lit from within. Thick, cold magic swelled around me like water from the deepest part ofthe ocean. Books tumbled from the shelves. The scent of salt filled the air. I tasted the salt on my tongue. Felt the stickiness of it on my skin as the shard drank in the magic.
A new vision flooded my mind, not of my prison, but of ancestral magic rising from the manor’s foundation and spilling into the shard. Magic that, when returned to the sea, could bind the witch's power and turn it against her like a trident through the heart.
I saw the surf in my mind, wild and foaming as I drove the tip of the shard into the water, sinking it into the sand. A force radiated from it, riding the waves, expanding toward the horizon, becoming a killing blow.
I knew what I had to do.
And then, with a final, shuddering boom, everything went silent.
The shard was full. Water droplets cascaded down its surface, dripping onto the floor. Placing it back into the sheath to dim its glow, I pushed to my feet and stuffed sea glass in my pockets for added energy.
I knelt in front of Annie. “You did so well. Stay here until we get back.”
Annie nodded, pressing her hands over her ears again as thunder cracked the sky and the sea witch’s scream sailed on the wind.
My boots skidded over the wet terrace as I ran back toward the beach. The rotted wood guardrail broke under my weight as I tore down the steps, barely keeping my balance.
I hit the sand, the shard tight in my grip. But it didn’t feel like the same beach.
The waves had pulled back, receding into the deep as if the sea itself knew I was coming. The shoreline stretched widernow, making the edge of the water feel impossibly far. Rain still lashed the beach in sheets.
Cass was tangled in a snarl of kelp, her blade hacking wildly as the vines crept up her legs. She was losing ground. Gavin and Bowen fought closer to where I stood, their features strained and pinched with exhaustion. Their strikes had grown ragged, blades missing completely as they staggered in the sand.
The tide had turned, and we were running out of time.
Gavin barely ducked the creature’s chain, his head snapping up to see me at the bottom of the path.
