“I am,” Prentis said with a smile. “And this is good news for you, Adara. Half-transformations like those are a Greater Fae trait. It means that once you complete the coming-of-age ritual, you should be able to unlock all of your water fae abilities.”
I glanced down at my hands, rubbed the spaces between the fingers on my left hand with my right thumb. It had been so strange to feel the webbing there, and a part of me wanted to transform again so I could try swimming again, this time with my webbed feet free of shoes as well. But I’d tried this morning before I’d come to breakfast, and nothing had happened.
I wondered if I had to be in the water to trigger the transformation. That would make sense. After all, if I did it on land, I wouldn’t be able to breathe, and I’d panic like I did yesterday.
“I’m happy to hear that,” I said slowly, “but why was I able to transform like that, since I haven’t unlocked my magic yet? And is this something I’ll be able to do again?”
Prentis hesitated. “Sometimes when we are under great stress, or feeling some particularly strong emotion, we can temporarily access abilities we wouldn’t normally be able to wield.” His gaze flickered to Einar briefly. “Your attachment to your dragon protector seems to be strong enough to allow you to draw from that hidden magic.”
I looked at Einar, who was staring back at me, his golden eyes glittering. I wish I could tell what he was thinking, but for once, his expression was completely undecipherable.
“So it’s a good thing, then, that I came after you,” I said, a little smugly.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t become dinner,” he countered. I opened my mouth, ready to argue, but then he reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “But I’m glad you rescued me, all the same.”
The retort dried on my lips, my mind going blank. I stared at our twined fingers as heat tingled up my arm, and suddenly, my mind whisked me back to that night in the air temple when Einar and I had danced. I could still remember the feel of his hands on my body, the way he’d expertly twirled me across the dance floor while secretly searching for the Oracle.
And I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was reliving that moment, too.
Einar winked at me, then took his plate and sauntered out of the galley, leaving me and Prentis alone. There was something smug about the way he walked, as if he’d won some kind of argument or contest. Curious, I glanced at Prentis, who wore a black look on his face as he watched Einar leave the room.
“What?” I asked, a little annoyed. “Is there something I missed?”
“Nothing.” Prentis stabbed a halved tomato with his fork and shoved the whole thing into his mouth. “Nothing at all.”
* * *
After breakfast, I went to the upper deck to find Einar. Aside from the brief, half-delirious conversation I’d had with him before Prentis’s soldiers had captured us, I hadn’t spoken with him privately since the fight against King Aolis.
But the moment I set eyes on the horizon, all thoughts of Einar fled from my head.
Spread out on the coastline like a bed of glittering jewels, the city of Usciete was a sight for sore eyes. Colorful houses and buildings clustered near the beaches, while manor houses perched on cliffs and hillsides farther inland. Usciete Palace loomed above it all, built at the top of the tallest cliff, its sea-foam-green domes and eggshell walls gleaming softly in the morning light. A tunnel had been carved into the base of the cliff—the only means of accessing the palace from the coast, unless one felt like scaling the cliff’s rocky face.
We would be traveling through that tunnel all too soon.
I grabbed the sleeve of a passing sailor, pulling him to a stop. “How long until we reach the docks?” I asked, my voice tight with nerves.
He glanced at the coastline, which was approaching far too rapidly for my tastes, and then back at me. “Within the hour, my lady.”
I nodded, then let him go. Anxiety reared its ugly head as I looked at the shoreline, at the dockworkers and sailors already anchored in the bay, at the bustling port city and the magnificent castle beyond. I was about to meet my maternal great-grandmother, and I looked like something the cat had dragged in. I needed to wash up, comb my hair, find something to wear. Did Prentis bring anything suitable for me, or was I expected to present myself to Axlya wearing the clothes I—
“Adara.” Einar’s voice rumbled from behind me, and I jumped. Frazzled, I spun around on my heel, ready to scold him for sneaking up on me, but the words died on my lips when I looked up at him. His normally stoic face was soft with concern as he looked me up and down, and when he brushed a stray hair away from my cheek, all the pent-up emotion inside me welled straight to the surface and into my eyes.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, clawed hands coming to cup my shoulders. His touch was gentle, and yet it felt like he was holding me together. As though he could sense the storm of anxiety churning in my gut, threatening to rip me open at the seams.
“I just…” a tear escaped the corner of my eye, and I swiped at it angrily. “I just feel so lost right now, Einar. I should be happy that we made it here, excited to meet Lady Axlya and get the ritual underway, but I’m afraid. Maybe even terrified.” More tears leaked out, and I let out a bitter laugh. “I’m so pathetic.”
Einar’s grip tightened on my shoulders. “You arenotpathetic, Adara,” he said sternly, pinning me with his fierce golden eyes. “You’re one of the strongest females I’ve ever met, and I’ve had the privilege of fighting alongside some of the fiercest dragon females in my army. Your adoptive mother was kidnapped, you’ve been forced to learn how to wield new magic your people thought lost forever, you found out that you’re actually a princess of the realm, you vanquished the false king that stole your throne, watched as an evil entity took possession of your mother’s body, fled the capital, were taken captive, and now you’re on your way to meet one of the most powerful fae in the realm. Yet you have risen to every challenge thrown your way with dogged determination, refusing to give up no matter how heavily the odds have been stacked against you.”
“You are many things, Adara. Smart, strong, beautiful, brave, loyal, and stubborn, sometimes even to a fault. But you are not pathetic. You are a miracle, a daughter of fae and dragons, a child of ice and fire, and I refuse to hear you put yourself down like this, not even for one second.”
He dropped his hands from my shoulders, and for a second, I thought he was going to pull away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a crushing embrace. The heady, masculine scent of him filled my head, and a sense of security filled my heart as he held me tight to him, saying nothing, demanding nothing.
Simply holding me, so I could fall apart.
Burying my face in his chest, I sobbed silently, but violently, letting out all the grief, all the frustration, all the rage from the last few days. My tears soaked the front of his shirt, my fingernails tore through the back, but still he held me as I quaked. I felt like a lone sapling in the middle of a storm-torn vale, holding on for dear life as the winds threatened to rip me out by the roots and send me sailing into the abyss.
But the storm didn’t take me, of course. It simply passed through me, until I was empty and drained, until I slumped against Einar, my nose clogged, my eyelids heavy. I wanted to drag myself back to my cabin and sleep the rest of the world away.
