Page 84 of Stolen Magic of the Deep

Her expression shifts, her stare softening. “What's your condition?”

“I would like to travel to the palace with you every day until he returns,” I state, not breaking her gaze. “I swim much better now, and I can keep up with the distance back and forth to Drekaris for training.”

“You cannot be unaccompanied,” she retorts.

“I understand,” I say, a smile forming slowly. “You can swim with me every day. Which Orion has probably asked of you anyway—to keep me safe, right?”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. But we leave and arrive when I say. I don't plan to wake you or tell you where to be. We must depart now, before it gets any later.”

I follow after her, keeping a short distance, not bothering to say goodbye to my teammates.

Orion has yet to return to the kingdom. I've slept at the palace for six nights since my agreement with Nyxalene. She's grown impatient and hardly sleeps. Every day, we swim between Drekaris and the palace in case he returns in the middle of the night.

Tonight, I’ve joined Nyxalene in the restless club, as my thoughts refuse to settle. I shift to serpent form and leave my chambers, making my way down the long corridor and toward the dining hall. The palace is eerily still at this time of night. With only a few posted guards, they could pass as statues.

The dining hall—among the darkness of the corridor—glows with marilume, illuminating the space within. The back of the room comes into focus as I swim into the cooking area. Immediately to my right, a sudden warmth engulfs me—the heated stone slab, still emits heat from supper. Across from it are open bays looking out into the expansive ocean, its blackness coating my already heavy thoughts.

“Why are you still up?” Nyxalene’s voice cuts through my intrusive thoughts.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize you were in here,” I say, backing up slowly toward the exit. “I was just looking for something to drink.”

Nyxalene rests against a sea-stone counter, holding a long, thin green plant in her hands. She watches me intently, bringing the plant to her mouth.

Eyebrows raised, I ask, “What's that?”

“Moon-kelp milk,” she says simply, handing me a piece. I mirror her movements. “It’s supposed to restore your energy. Anytime I cannot sleep or feel drained, I get a few of these and enjoy it. It is better warm, but I try not to interfere with the staff’s space too much.”

With the plant between my teeth, I grip the base with one hand and squeeze from the top with the other. The substance resembles a mixture of coconut milk and honey.

It glides down my throat—cold and inviting. I can almost feel the blend settling into my stomach.

“Is it supposed to leave a tacky feeling behind?” I ask, clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth.

“It can. It takes some getting used to if you have never tried it before,” she replies.

I pause, waiting for the right moment to ask, but remind myself there won’t be a “better time.”

“Any updates on the search for Orion?”

“No. I'm frustrated—with the search, with him.” Her voice rises, reverberating off the stone walls. “He didn't think to inform me where he was going. What he was doing. Nothing!”

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

I understand that feeling—of something being kept from you, especially by someone you care deeply about. When I found out my parents weren’t my biological parents, I was furious for so long. I wanted to run away. But eventually, I realized they chose to love me when my own parents couldn’t. “I know that feeling.”

“We've searched the entire kingdom. We cannot venture past the barriers, and I fear that's where he's gone.”

“How many sea days has he been gone now?”

“After tonight, it will be eleven.”

My eyes go wide. My timing must still be off. I’ve been trying to keep track ever since Orion and Nyxalene told me how old they were.

“This is going to sound stupid—” That’s a dumb way to start a sentence, Sarah. “How long have I been here in Virellan? I’ve done the math in my head. It was the beginning of August when I gained these powers, and I know we spent several weeks training for Current One—”

“Yes, you were slow.”

“I’m ignoring that.” I roll my eyes. “And Current Two is roughly a couple months, so that would mean I’ve technically only been here for about four months?”