She was so beautiful.
Trained as a warrior, forced to become Lady of Hawthorne Manor too young, she had sacrificed everything—her life, her own happiness—for the sake of her people.
The ship lurched, the sky now darkened as if it was not morn.
Issa grabbed the railing to steady herself.
I reached out a hand. “Come. I’ll show you how to ride the storm.”
She took my hand, her grip just as firm as I remembered it. Pulling her in front of me as the deck pitched beneath our feet, I guided her hands to rest beside mine.
The sea roared around us, waves cresting high as the ship fought to stay its course.
Her fingers curled white-knuckled around the wood. “It feels alive,” she murmured.
“It is.” I reached over, adjusting her stance, steadying her hands. “You don’t fight the storm. You move with it. Feel the wind, the pull of the current.”
“It feels as if the sea will swallow us whole.”
I grinned. “Then we make it work for us.”
Another wave slammed into the hull, sending a spray of seawater over the deck. Issa gasped but held firm. She was a fighter. Always had been. And standing here while the storm raged around us, I realized she was meant for this life more than she knew.
The wind howled, tearing through the rigging as the ship surged forward. Lightning split the sky but Issa continued to stand her ground, hands firm on the wheel, her breath steady now.
Then, through the mist and driving rain, a break in the storm.
Beyond the endless waves, dark cliffs rose from the water, wreathed in mist. Issa stiffened beneath my touch.
“Welcome to Aetheria,” I murmured as another roll of thunder echoed behind us.
18
ISSA
I’d been to Aetheria before, but never from the sea. And the only time my father and I travelled as far north as Aethralis, we’d seen the palace from a distance. But as our party stepped onto the docks, the palace rising high above us, seemingly into the clouds, I wondered how we would get there.
The sea had been ruthless, but now, the storm seemed to die behind us. Aetheria rose ahead, wreathed in low-hanging clouds, its ethereal glow casting the cliffs in an otherworldly shimmer.
From this vantage point, the city was unlike anything I had ever seen. Waterfalls spilled from floating isles above, cascading down and vanishing into the mist before they reached the sea. The blue glow of enchanted stones pulsed faintly along the cliffside, embedded into the rock itself, as if Aetheria had been carved from magic rather than stone. And high above, the palace of Aethralis loomed. Its gleaming white towers pierced the sky, their intricate carvings barely visible through the haze.
“This is very different from Valmyr Port,” I said, glad to have taken a cloak with me. It was barely spring and though never bitterly cold anywhere in Elydor, there was a chill in the Aetherian air that Estmere lacked this time of year.
“When I first got here,” Mev said, in step beside me, “after I realized it wasn’t a dream, I couldn’t understand the perpetual perfect climate. Back home, you could drive twenty-four hours and go from freezing cold to almost tropical.”
“I’ve heard of your cars. And planes. I don’t believe I would ever trust such a thing to take me through the sky that way.”
Mev laughed. “At least there’s a reason why it works. This”—she flicked her wrist, sending a blast of wind upward in a spiral—“not so much. Lyra tried to explain it to me. My father made sure I was taught Elydor’s history. But by our technological standards”—she shook her head—“it still doesn’t make logical sense.”
“A ship that flies through the sky?” Marek added as he and Kael caught up to us. “Sounds like the kind of tale a drunken sailor spins after too much rum. At least with magic, I can feel the wind shift, the tide answer. Your planes? What stops them from simply falling?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Mev said. “They aren’t ships. But physics wasn’t my strong suit, so I’m not sure I can explain how they fly with any accuracy.”
“He’s jesting,” I said. “Elydorians have studied human technology since they first arrived. It’s all chronicled in the Luminara. We have our own version of it in Estmere, but Aetherians, as you probably know, excel at preserving history.”
“How did I not know about this?” Mev asked Kael, who smiled mischievously. “You have chronicles of our technology?”
“You’ve been… otherwise occupied.”
