“You were promised centuries ago. If you want your claim, go get her brother. You’d be doing us all a favor.”
“I am not known for favors, Emrys.” Her voice cracked with fury.
I smirked. Maybe that’s why I liked her best of the Old Ones. Clio was untamable. She was the storm.
Her next move was predictable. She conjured a tornado. I traced silencing runes in the air and sent them toward her—molten gold in the air. The cyclone unraveled into rags of mist.
“Is that all you have, old friend?” My voice sounded bitter. She had once been worshipped. Priests carved her name into stone, begged her for safe tides. Now, she was barely more than a memory. “We all fade. We all die. But tell me one thing—how did she capture you, Clio?”
She fought the spell binding her magic. I drew more sigils in the perfumed air until she was howling. The echo of my spell shook the island.
“There is something about her,” she spat. “Release me. Now.”
I landed before her, shadows curling around my boots.
“Remember when we sang the storm into silence, Clio? When the world was young?”
She stilled.
“For those times, I’ll spare you. But harm her again, and I won’t be so kind.”
The lavender sky darkened. The wind screamed. Clio thrashed against the bind.
“It’ll hold until we reach land.”
She cursed in every tongue I knew.
“I see those sailors you drowned taught you something,” I said with a smirk—and vanished.
The soaked floorboards of the ferry slammed against my back.
I was weary. Magic didn’t come easily anymore. With part of my power tangled inside Daphne, casting was a chore. I had to be cautious. My magic drew eyes.
“Emrys!”
Daphne knelt beside me, panic twisting her face. “What happened? Where did you go? She’s gone! Look!”
The storm had passed. A rainbow arched across the tattered clouds.
Her eyes dropped to my leg, where blood stained the fabric.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered. A crease formed between her brows. “Let me take care of it.”
Before I could stop her, she tore the lace from her sleeve and wrapped it around my leg. Her fingers trembled—but they were gentle.
When she finished, she didn’t move away. Her bloodied fingers lingered on my leg. She looked at me and smiled.
“Better?”
I should’ve pulled away. Should’ve told her the wound had already healed. That I was fine.
Instead, I chuckled.
The warmth in my chest wouldn’t let me speak the truth.
“Much better,” I said. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”
Daphne
