Maritime passage to the designated safe harbor.
“Kieran.”
He stops pacing and looks at me, his gaze sharp enough to cut through the thickest book in the library.
“Safe harbor.” My pulse kicks hard against my throat. “There’s a designated safe harbor for academy emergencies.”
He’s beside me in a single stride, leaning over my shoulder to read the text. His body heat’s rolling over me in waves, and my heart jumps from the awareness of what’s very close to my head with Kieran standing over me while I’m sitting down.
Focus on research—not on calculating the exact distance between your face and your combat instructor’s waistband.
It’s easier said than done, but I manage to keep my eyes fixed on the text, since the alternative is anatomically unavoidable and professionally catastrophic.
“The Sorceress’s Watch is an ancient agreement between Blaze Academy and…” I pause and point at the place in the text. “Aeaea.”
The page details essential information about Aeaea, the home of the legendary sorceress Circe who transforms men into pigs and commands the winds that guide lost souls. According to this text, she’s been the designated guardian of Blaze Academy evacuees for over eight hundred years.
“Circe’s isle serves as the keystone of magical defenses surrounding Blaze Academy,” I read aloud. “All vessels approaching the island without authorization are redirected to Aeaea, where intruders are collected and contained until their intentions are verified.”
Collected and contained.
If Oliver and Thad left by boat, Circe would have intercepted them. They could be there right now, trapped on Aeaea, waiting for someone to find them.
“There are directions.” I flip to the next page, then the next. “Maritime coordinates, star charts, and…” The next line hits me so hard I have to read it twice. “Instructions for where to find the boats.”
“Boats?” Kieran leans closer, and I lose my train of thought for a full two seconds before my brain kicks back into research mode.
“They’re hidden in the depths of the island.” I trace the faded diagram with my finger, memorizing every detail. “There’s a cave system accessible through the volcanic tunnels. The academy keeps emergency vessels there for evacuation purposes.”
For a long moment, neither of us speaks.
“No.” His mouth presses into a flat line, his green eyes hard.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no.”
I sit back and cross my arms. “I haven’t told you what I’m thinking.”
“You’re thinking about stealing a boat and leaving the island.” He’s standing perfectly still, his heat spiking in a pattern I’ve learned to recognize as Kieran trying very hard to not lose his composure. “You’re thinking about risking your life on the chance that your brother ended up on Aeaea instead of?—”
He stops.
Instead of dead.
“I have to try.” The words scrape past the knot in my throat. “He’s my brother.”
“And you’re—” Kieran cuts himself off, his hand going to the hilt of the dagger on his weapons belt. “You’re a first-year student. Those waters are treacherous. The creatures?—”
“I’ve read about the creatures.”
“Reading about them and facing them are different things.” Each word lands clipped and hard. “The sirens. The cyclops. The storms. You wouldn’t last a day.”
I stand up so fast my chair nearly topples over. “So what’s your suggestion? Go to classes like normal while Oliver rots in a sorceress’s dungeon? Wait for the faculty to investigate, even though they’ve done nothing useful in a week?”
“I’m suggesting you don’t go on a suicide mission.”
“It’s not a suicide mission. It’s a rescue mission.”
