Focus on the water.
When Soraya is done, Odi and I move together towards the rail, the darkening sea churning black below. I swing my legs over the side, the salty wind rushing up to meet me. I glance to where Odi should be to my right, ready to dive in. But she lingers a few paces back, her long braid shifting in the breeze, her boots still firm on the deck.
She blinks hard, chin trembling before she forces it still. The mask of certainty cracks, and for the briefest breath, I see the fear bleeding through.
“There’s still time to back out, little doe,” I offer quietly.
She shakes her head, but I catch the way her throat bobs with uncertainty. “I can do this.”
I know she can. We’ve been through worse together, but something tells me she just needs a little boost of confidence.
With a grin stretching across my mouth, I offer her my hand. “Prove it.”
She only hesitates for a beat longer, then her hand is in mine, and she’s hopping over the ship railing to stand next to me. “Ass.”
A low chuckle rattles my chest as I glance over my shoulder to Soraya, Tavi and Elio. “Try not to sink theship while I’m gone.”
I’ve been leaving her a lot lately, but there’s no doubt in my mind thatThe Gilded Hartis in good hands. If it came down to it, there’s none I’d trust more to take her over in the case of my absence—or my death.
Salt water slaps the hull, sending up a spray. I turn my attention back to Odi “On three?”
She nods and squeezes my hand gently. “On three.”
“One. Two. Three,” I murmur, then our bodies are diving for the Adamaris sea.
I shift the moment we hit the water. A cloud of bubbles surrounds us as we sink down below the surface. Once they clear, I point to the sea stone around Odi’s neck. She watches, wide eyed as the stone pops open, releasing a pale lilac bubble that becomes more see-through the bigger it grows. It forms around her head in a wavering shape, thin as glass that bends and sways when she moves.
“Pretty impressive, right?”
She weakly nods, but doesn’t answer and that's when I realise she’s still holding her breath. She freezes, eyes growing wide. Her hands fly up to claw at her throat as if the bubble might split, allowing water to rush in. She shakes her head, lips clamped shut, panic pouring off her in waves.
I grab her by the arms, firm but not rough, holding her steady in the dark water. I lean close, forcing her gaze to mine. “It’s alright,” I say, pulling her a fraction closer. “Trust the stone. Breathe.”
She shakes her head again, brown eyes wild with fear. Her chest spasms, fighting the urge. I squeeze her arms tighter, grounding her. “Odi. With me.”
At last, she gasps, sucking in a desperate breath. Instead of drowning, she exhales, shaky and disbelieving as the bubble holds. Her hand drifts up, fingers brushing the edge of the magic sphere, awe softening her panic.
Then her eyes snap back to me. “Rune—” Her voice is in my ears, clear as if we were standing on deck. “I can . . . talk?”
I can’t help the grin that twists across my face. “Aye,” I say. “Welcome to life under the sea.”
Pink flushes her cheeks as the colour comes back to it. It makes my heart swell to see her in my world. Here, where my blood thrums with the richness of my heritage. The place where my heart truly feels at home. And she’s smiling . . . at me.
I offer her my hand once again. “Come on, little doe.”
Odelia threads her fingers through mine. The touch of her soft skin against the roughness of my hand sends a thrill up my arm. I grip it firmly, and then we’re flying. Midnight water rushes past us as we glide down deeper and deeper, towards a towering finger of jutting rock Elio advised as a guide.
The soft lilac glow of Odi’s sea stone is enough to illuminate a very small circumference around us, but it’s not enough to help her see very far. Shapes stir in the murk, fish scattering, drifting, sea weed tugged by the current. Then I see it.
I point ahead. “Look.”
It sits on a column of jagged rock, pale stone where there shouldn’t be any. Square edges too clean to be nature’s work, jutting up like giant, broken teeth.
“It’s definitely a temple of some kind,” Odi murmurs, her eyeswide with interest.
With her hand still firmly in mine, I slow and together we drift down until the full bulk of the structure looms before us. Barnacle-crusted just like Elio said. Four siren statues that once stood proud lean at odd angles, their carved poses almost too lifelike. The space is crowded with opportunistic kelp reaching for sunlight, and the wary bodies of fish that watch curiously from within pockets of stone and coral.
Odi releases my hand and swims for the door. I follow, my hand cool from her absence. We hover before the door. It’s massive, cut from the same white stone, sealed tight. No handles, no hinges. Just a smooth slab between us and what lays on the other side.
