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Chapter 8
Keliveth
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Iam still dazed asI climb back onto the ruins of the palace dome. The cool morning breeze and rhythmic crash of waves against stone are distant to my senses, overpowered by the lingering warmth of Evya’s kisses.
She climbs up after me, hesitating only a moment to shift from her lithe, scale-covered tail to her land-walking form. The slender fins along her forearms vanish, and the gills on her neck smooth over with skin. Only the shape of her ears—each with three delicate, fin-like points edged in tiny pearlescent scales—now discloses her merroc nature. The transformation happens so quickly I barely see it, but the sight still makes my breath catch. She shifts between forms with such ease, as poised and confident on land as in the water.
A twinge of inadequacy shoots through me, dissonant with the lingering sensation of her touch. My hand strays to skin just below my ribcage where I painted a series of powerful runes a few hours ago. My fingers come away dripping with watery black pigment. Powerful as I am, I don’t belong to the sea as Evya does.
How am I expecting to win a challenge against five merroc warriors?
My mind roils as the reality of my decision crashes in like a tidal wave. The heat of her touch fades, chased away by a chill of foreboding. What if Evya’s initial assessment of me was correct, and I’ve made promises to her that I can’t keep? I look to her, unsure of what to say or where we go from here.
She stands a few feet away, her arms folded and her lips pinched together as though pondering something. She peers at the disintegrating runes on my forearms, then reaches out and traces her finger over one of the symbols. Even that simple touch sends a thrill through me. I take a deep, steadying breath and try to turn my thoughts from worrying to planning.
There has to be a way for this scheme to work. For us to be together.
“You chose the runes well,” she says, though her expression grows stern. “You were wise to mark them in ink rather than trying to cast them from soul-light. I can add more that will give you an even better chance at surviving under the sea. And ...” she hesitates, then meets my gaze. “I can make these marks permanent if you’re willing.”
I inhale a sharp breath. Evya frowns, and I curse my instinctive reaction. “That would ... That would be wise,” I say slowly. “It’s only that—”
“You elves don’t care for tattoos,” she finishes, her mouth curving into a wry smile. “I know.”
“I’d prefer tattoos to drowning,” I say quickly, before I can think better of it. It isn’t as though I have a more feasible solution. After all, it was my idea to paint runes onto my skin. My only other option is to form the runes from raw magic, or soul-light, as I did when I healed Evya’s wound, but runes cast in this manner take a great amount of strength to maintain over long periods of time. If Evya is willing to go through the trouble of making the marks permanent, it only makes sense to accept her offer. “I want to have a better chance at winning the challenge.”
Granted, the other elven nobles at Kara Davonashi will likely be revolted. Most of my people see runework tattoos as a form of cheating, and they disdain those who use such marks. But surely I can find a way to handle that. Perhaps I can hide the marks under clothing so they won’t draw attention.
Evya tilts her head as if weighing my reaction. Will she question me further? Instead, she simply nods. “Then we have no time to lose.” She lowers her voice, casting a fleeting glance at the sea. “Wait here while I gather supplies, and then we’ll go someplace where we can speak more freely. It would not be wise to make our plans with the Seamother nearby.”
Without waiting for a reply, she turns away from me. A few long strides, and she launches into the air with a graceful leap and arcs toward the waves, transforming in midair. Pearl-white tail fins flash as she vanishes below the surface. I stare after her, my mind racing to comprehend everything that has transpired over the past hour.
The world is suddenly quiet of all but the lapping waves and the distant cries of flying sea birds. Without her presence to distract me, my adrenaline gives out and I sink down onto the stone floor from weariness. I find myself staring at the spot in the waves where Evya disappeared. She didn’t say how long she would be gone, or if I need to be on my guard against any dangers in the meantime. Nor can I begin to guess what will happen next. I just promised to dive headlong into Evya’s world.
Eternal, give me wisdom.Am I praying that prayer too late? Perhaps I’ve already abandoned all wisdom when it comes to Evya.
