Cyrene had limited knowledge of the requirements for a crew on a major sea voyage across the Lakonia Ocean, but she felt rather doubtful about what Gwynora had scrounged together in the three days Orden had given her to get ready.

The ship itself was impressive. Three giant masts with multiple white sails each. As large as two houses put together and sturdy. A carved mermaid was attached to the bow of the ship, and the name Crusader had been painted on the side. Gwynora’s disheveled and ragtag team ran about, following orders, but they were a motley crew if she had ever seen one.

“I would not let Gwynora see you looking like that,” Orden warned her.

“Do you honestly believe this lot is going to take us across the ocean?” Cyrene asked.

“If she says they can, then they will.”

Cyrene nodded. Orden knew Gwynora better than she did. It was clear that he trusted her judgment and that she would do what she’d said because of that weird piece of hair.

“Are you going to explain to me why she’s doing this for us?”

“No,” he grunted.

“How do I know that she’s not going to renege on her promise?”

“Because she won’t.” He turned to face her fully. “You have asked me several times over the last three days. Is my word suddenly not good enough?”

“Not yours. Hers.” Cyrene tilted her head in Gwynora’s direction.

She was yelling commands at her ragged crew and directing supplies onto the ship.

“She owes me a favor.”

“Why? Because you have a lock of her hair? How is that binding?”

Orden looked up to the sky and swore to the Creator. “You are not going to back down, are you?”

“Have you ever known me to?” she asked. “And, anyway, this isn’t about me. This is about all seven of us getting on board a ship and crossing the ocean. Avoca isn’t even conscious. I want to make sure we get there. For all I know, Gwynora’s going to double-cross us as soon as we board and hand us over to pirates—or worse, Byern. You keep saying she will hold to her deal, but why?”

Orden huffed out a breath. “I tell you this in confidence.”

Cyrene nodded. “Of course.”

“Do you remember the story I told you about my sister? How she married the king of Aurum and then, when she was murdered, I fled and was trained by an assassin, a former Guild member, like the ones we met and fought in Kell?”

“Yes.”

“Gwynora trained with me. Drystan was our master. He was Guild-trained and gifted. He had escaped the Guild’s influence and started over in a place where he believed he could train people, free of their bondage and rules. He wanted magical and non-magical users to have a sanctuary. He was the beginning of a network to help magical users. The Network was how Ahlvie knew where I was in Albion and how we saved your life that day you killed the Braj.”

Cyrene had heard of the Network and seen it in action with Lady Cauthorn in Byern, but she hadn’t known its history or the extent it spread.

“Well, Gwynora discovered that our master was being hunted by Braj. As you know, they do not stop in their pursuit. They have followed us all around Emporia, trying to get to you. I had left the sanctuary by then and gone off to what I believed was bigger and better. Gwynora found me and begged me to return. She feared Drystan would be killed, and I was the only one who could save him. But I was just getting my feet under me in the Trinnenberg court and told her I didn’t know when I could follow her. She said that, if I came with her now and saved Drystan, she would owe me a favor.”

Cyrene listened, enraptured. Orden looked anguished.

“Now, a favor is always a prize, but in Biencan’s mystical mythos, it was an unbreakable bond. We cut off a lock of her hair, and together, we bound it with twine. And she gave it to me after I finished off the last beast. I waited months, and nothing came. I was sure that we must have gotten them off of his trail. I assured Gwynora that he would be fine, and we could resume our work. And I left.”

Cyrene’s heart broke. She knew what had become of his master. “And he died.”

Orden nodded. “Yes. Gwynora blamed me. She said I was the only one who could have saved him. I kept the favor—not because I ever intended to use it,” he said, glancing up at her, “but as a reminder.”

“You kept it with you for fifteen years because of one mistake?”

“No. It reminded me to stop and listen to where fate was leading me. I told myself, the next time destiny was pushed in my path, I wouldn’t put my own needs ahead of it.” He looked at Cyrene meaningfully. “And I haven’t.”

Cyrene smiled softly. “Thank the Creator you listened this time. Where would I be without you?”

He laughed. “You would not have made it out of the Aurum woods.”

“Fair,” she agreed. Then, she placed her hand on his arm. “I am sorry that you weren’t there for Drystan, but you know it is not your fault that he died. And Gwynora should not blame you for it.”

Orden’s eyes searched out Gwynora’s movements on the deck. “I understand why she blames me. Drystan was her father.”

Cyrene snapped her mouth closed. Oh.

“If there had been any other way, I would have found it. But…if she must hate me to move in the path of destiny, then so be it.”

Orden cleared his throat and marched onto the boat. Cyrene wished she could have as much faith in destiny as Orden did. She would do anything to prove herself, including cross the open seas, but her fate seemed abject at best. And every step she took seemed to bring her closer to an end she didn’t know if she could win.

Cyrene surveyed the rest of her group. Ahlvie and one of Gwynora’s crew had Avoca on a stretcher and were carefully carrying her onto the ship. Matilde and Mikel followed in their wake. Vera smiled at her as she followed her sister and brother-in-law. That just left Cyrene.

She turned back once toward Bienco and her last step on its soil. She was leaving her homeland behind. It had been different when she left Albion to seek Eleysia all those months ago. This was leaving Emporia itself. She didn’t know if she would make it and definitely not if she would make it back. She took one more breath of the air before stepping onto the gangway and onto the ship.

“Welcome aboard the Crusader,” Gwynora said, dramatically sweeping her hand out. “Long may she live.”

“Good morning, Gwynora,” Cyrene said.

“Please, make yourself at home,” she said with an eye roll and then swaggered away.

Cyrene found her room and deposited the remaining items she had carried with her. The rest had been brought over bright and early and were already waiting for her. She pulled out the second letter that she had received. She still hadn’t opened it. Something about it had made her reconsider. She wanted to know who was reaching out to her, and at the same time…she didn’t.

Indecision warred through her. Then, she heard raised voices from above. She pocketed the letter once more and went to find out what all the commotion was about.

“Absolutely not!” Gwynora said. She pointed her finger at Matilde and Vera, who calmly stood by. “You will do no such thing.”

“What is all the yelling about?” Cyrene asked.

Gwynora glared at her. “I agreed to take you. I did not agree to let anyone do as they pleased while they were on board.”

“We simply suggested that we use Doma magic to fill the sails and help the seas,” Matilde said. She smiled slyly. “It would make the journey far easier and much quicker.”

“Plus, it would take much of the work from your crew,” Vera added. “I looked into our supplies and worry we might not otherwise have enough for the full trip.”

“We will have enough,” Gwynora spat. “I am the captain of this vessel. I am in command. None of you will be helping in any way. Your only goal this trip is to stay out of my way.”

“Gwynora, wait,” Cyrene said. “Maybe they’re right. Four of us are able to use our powers to make this trip shorter. If we can get to and from the island faster, wouldn’t that be a positive for you?”

“Five,” Gwynora said. “There are five of you. Don’t think I didn’t count.”

“Five, yes, but Avoca cannot access her magic.”

Gwynora snorted. “Yes, she can.”

All three of the women stared at her in shock.

“What?” Cyrene whispered. “You can see Avoca’s magic?”

Gwynora looked between them as if they were idiots. “Of course I can. She might be asleep, but she is not dead. Her magic is still a living, breathing thing. Her aura is the same as all of yours. Well, more like his,” she said, pointing at Mikel. “But I want nothing to do with magic. Nothing. All it does is bring pain and death to the people it touches. I can see when you are using your powers, so don’t even think that I won’t notice. It is a four-month trip. Get used to it.” Then, she stalked away in a huff.

“Well, she is pleasant,” Matilde grumbled. “It is irrational not to allow us to assist.”

“She fears her own strength,” Vera reasoned.

“Foolish.”

“Yes, but a protection. It is not ideal that it would take that long, but she is taking us, and we have no other way to get there.”

“So, we should be grateful?” Matilde snorted.

“Gracious,” Vera corrected.

Cyrene smiled. She loved having them together. Separately, they were these two incredibly bright, talented, and wonderful people, but together, they were like no one else in the world. In that moment, she felt so grateful that she had them as teachers.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t continue practicing,” Cyrene suggested. “Especially knowing Avoca can access her powers. Maybe we could try linking?”

Vera nodded. “Intuitive. Yes, we’ll try.”

“I still think we could hide our magic from Gwynora,” Matilde said.

“We will respect her wishes.” Vera said. When Matilde looked as if she would protest again, Vera added, “For now.”

Cyrene grinned at them. Then, everything seemed to happen so fast. One minute, they were docked, ready to go, and the next, they had cast off. Cyrene rushed to the railing and watched as they left Emporia for the open seas. She stood there with Bienco in her view until the shoreline grew so small, she could hardly see it. She didn’t know where they were going or what they would find when they were there. Just that they had four months to go in hopes that this island had the dragons she had been searching for.

She swallowed hard. She didn’t want to shed a tear for the life she was leaving behind. She would be back. She had to be back. She had too much left to do here not to return.

With a shaky hand, she retrieved the letter from her pocket and carefully broke the red wax seal.

Cyrene—

As you well know, your presence, letters included, are not welcome in Eleysia. If you were still in the prison cell I’d left you in, I would have your head already. You participated in the assassination of my parents. Now, your country has burned down my entire capital city and murdered my people, including all ten of my younger sisters.

The fact that you would even write such a letter to Prince Dean in my regard is preposterous. You have no rights here. You cannot ask for anyone, not even Basille Selby, to be reinstated as an Eleysian Lord. Stay out of matters of state as well as my love life.

As to my brother’s response to this, you will not receive it. He returned to me in Rasine to help reclaim my throne and has since disappeared entirely. I do not know his whereabouts, though I suspect he is with you. If that is the case, release him from your evil spell and tell him to return to where he belongs. You have done enough damage to Eleysia.

Brigette Ellison

Queen of Eleysia

Cyrene read the letter over and over and over again. Brigette was alive! Cyrene had been certain that all of the Ellison sisters had been killed in the Eleysian fires. What a relief for Dean to have one of his sisters still alive.

But after relief came anger. Her jaw began to ache from clenching it so tightly. She had not participated in any murders, nor did she condone what Byern had done to Eleysia. It made her furious that Brigette still accused her.

She hated that she had even written a letter to Dean at Basille Selby’s request. She had only done it in exchange for him walking their party through the Drop Pass in Kell. He had helped them, only for them to be ambushed by the Guild and nearly killed in an avalanche. After they had gotten out and found Mikel in the dragon caves, Basille had taken them as far as Yarrow before abandoning their party.

She honestly had never expected a response from Dean. And her heart had ached to even write to him…especially about something that felt so trivial.

Now, he was missing?

He had purposely left their party to go back to Eleysia to put his country back together. What could be more important to him than Eleysia? Certainly not her. He wasn’t here with them. He wouldn’t even begin to know where to look for her.

None of it made sense. Like the part about Brigette winning her throne back. Hadn’t she already been queen? Why would she have needed to win her throne back?

Cyrene suddenly felt even more lost than she had when the ship sailed away from Emporia. Brigette had to reclaim her throne. Dean was missing. Byern—Kael—was burning cities to the ground. This was what she was leaving behind. What would she find when she returned?

But there was nothing to be done.

She had made her choice.

She had already set sail.

Emporia would have to save itself while she was gone.