Tides of Torment (Immortal Realms Book 2)

The waters of Mointeach Bay glistened in the bright sunshine overhead, and the white cliffs of Caithaird farther down the coast glinted more proudly for it. There was a familiar scent in the air that caused a flash of nostalgia to surface in Sereia. It was fierce and tasted suspiciously of homesickness. It was not a weakness she cared to acknowledge, and it did not mix well with the depth of unease and grief that had grown inside of her during their trip from Tribonik.

When she had fled Midniva a century ago, Sereia would never have imagined that she could miss the place that had stifled her. Living as a lady of nobility had not been enough to sustain the thirst for adventure and life itself that rushed through her veins. The need to go out and simply live had been a current too strong for her to ignore.

Sereia had snuck her way onto the first ship, only to be discovered and eventually thrown off at the next port. But that had brought her to the shores of Tribonik, where it was possible to forge an entirely new life. After proving her mettle in a sword fight against one sea captain’s best fighter, she’d earned her place onboard a vessel.

She worked her way from the bottom rung upward. Swabbing decks, prepping food, swashbuckling with the best of them. Sereia learned her way around the ship, hauling ropes until her hands bled and spending so much time on deck, her lips grew chapped and her skin burnt from the sun.

None of the pain mattered, because she was at sea, and the salt water was all she had ever hoped for. Ever needed. It was her home.

But a part of her, even if she did not like to pay it any mind, missed her homeland. Missed the white cliffs and the sun-bleached castle set atop them. Missed the call of the gulls over the harbor in Mointeach, and the scent of beef stew and ale filtering down the cobblestone streets.

“I did not expect to see these shores again.” Adrik stepped up beside her at the railing, the wind whipping at his shoulder-length, medium-brown hair. He wore most of it pulled back from his face with a leather string at the back of his head while the rest hung loose.

He was a tall man, broad shouldered and firmly muscled from his days on the ship. His blue eyes tended to glint with mischief and mayhem, and his tongue bore more sass than was appropriate for a first mate. He was lucky she viewed him as family and let him get away with it.

“Well, take pleasure in the unexpected. The crew can have their shore leave here.” She fought to keep her tone casual, hiding the swell of emotions inside her.

Her sea adventures had not kept her from Midniva. Over the years, she would return when her captain saw fit to dock at port here, and later, after she had commandeered ownership of The Saorsa through a well-placed bet and duel. Each time she’d stepped on shore, she had found herself heading back to the capital. Sometimes to see her family, but always to see Travion.

Their first interaction after the failed betrothal had been tense and full of many unasked questions. Yet, from there, they’d developed an understanding. When she was here, she was welcome in Travion’s bed, no questions asked and no presumptions made. It was a liaison without expectations and without shackles.

But even romances without romance can take their toll. Each time Sereia found herself in Travion’s arms, she was drawn more strongly to him. It became harder and harder to resist the desire to lose herself in his presence. To forget her life at sea and promise to stay there with him on land despite what she needed for herself.

It had been five years since Sereia had last stepped foot in Midniva, and when she’d left, she hadn’t been sure she would return. Adrik kept his face turned out to the approaching land, but his eyes flicked momentarily to her before returning to Midniva. “And you, Captain? What will you be doing back in your homeland?”

Sereia’s eyes narrowed a little, and she turned her head to look at him. Adrik’s beard was scruffy along his rugged jaw and made the high cheekbones in his face all the more prominent. Currently, his hair was straggly and in a mighty need of washing. His fitted blue shirt was stained and starting to look a little threadbare. As was the red scarf tied about his lean waist. He needed off this damn boat and a thorough bathing.

They all did.

“What I’ll be doing is no worry of yours. See to it that the ship is restocked and that any repairs needed are made. And for the love of sea and shore, find yourself a tub to wash the filth off.”

Adrik’s smirk was quick and broad as he scanned her over from head to toe. “You could use one yourself, Captain. Especially if you plan on visiting your ki—”

“Yes, I’m not much better than a barnacle myself. I’m aware.” There would be no discussing Travion. She couldn’t bear to, not until she knew whether the rumors were true. She also didn’t have the patience for Adrik’s taunting. Not now. Not with the cliffs of Caithaird in the distance. Did Prince Kian now reign there?

Sereia returned her gaze to the shores of Mointeach, the quaint seaport town, a familiar, welcoming sign. Small colorful homes nestled along the banks of the coast and worked their way toward larger structures that were used to house nets and process fish as they came in off the water. The seaside fishing shops and warehouses then gave way to proper shops, a market, taverns, and a small temple to the fae of creation.

Men and women bustled right alongside fae, selling wares and preparing fishing vessels. It was a healthy town. A welcoming port. A safe refuge from the unsteady nature of the sea.

She wondered momentarily how her mother and father were, as well as her sisters. How had they fared in the battle? Had any of them come under attack? Were any of them injured? Had any of her nephews joined the Midnivian army or the royal guard? It had been so long since Sereia had seen any of them. While she loved her family, Sereia had always felt so separate from them. Her sisters had been happy to follow along with their mother’s plans for their lives. Had loved the notion of beautiful homes, fancy gowns, and endless balls. All the things that felt like a noose about Sereia’s neck.

This life of piracy was not something that her mother or father understood, nor did they accept it. The idea that one of their daughters should choose to sail the seas with a group of swarthy ruffians instead of accepting the coveted role of queen had been incomprehensible. She’d had everything her mother ever dreamed of within a fingertip’s reach, and still, Sereia had fled from it all. It sent her mother into a fit of nerves, which was why she had not crossed the threshold of the Ferox family estate in over five decades. She wasn’t exactly certain she was welcome there anymore.

Lord and Lady Ferox had been born and raised in Lucem. They came to the middle realm centuries after King Travion staked his claim and settled himself and his court on her white cliffs. While they made their life here, they had never truly left behind their Lucem ways. But Sereia, who had been born to this seafaring land, had the water in her blood.

The salty breeze always called to her, and the ships disappearing on the horizon had beckoned her along with them. While her mother focused on seeing all five of her daughters married into well-off families—ones of power and acclaim—Sereia had sought any opportunity she had to escape to a world of freedom. Ballgowns and soirees were not the life she had ever seen for herself. Instead, Sereia had wanted the open sea before her and the wood hull of a ship beneath her feet.

“You’d tell me if there was something greater at work here than just a sudden desire to see home, right?” Adrik pressed, concern in his eyes as he studied her. “You seemed hell-bent on getting here, whatever the sea chose to throw at us.”

More than one storm had hit The Saorsa and her crew since they’d set sail from the port in Bezopasnyy.

Sereia turned from the small portside town of Mointeach and looked up at the bright scarlet sails of her beloved ship. They had withstood the winds well, but the foretopsail was in tatters.

“There is always something greater at work, Adrik. When you have need to know it, I will tell you. Until then, see to it that my ship is fixed.” Aboard The Saorsa, the only one Sereia trusted more than Adrik was Yon. In the nearly thirty years he’d been aboard her ship, he’d morphed from a mouthy teen to a mouthy friend who felt more like a pesky sibling. Despite him often being her sounding board, she did not have to share everything with him.

Now was not a time when she felt like sharing.

Adrik merely nodded. “Aye, Captain.” Knowing not to press her further, the first mate walked away to oversee their docking at port.

Shouts rang out around her as The Saorsa drew nigh to the docks, waves crashing on shore as the large ship drifted up to the wharf. Her crew hurried over the deck to reel in sails and toss ropes to those working atop the wooden structure. As the ship came to a final halt, lurching slightly as the anchor took root, Sereia turned from the railing and made her way from the forecastle deck down the stairs to the main, searching for Yon.

She found her climbing down the shrouds from the crow’s nest. As Yon dropped the last few feet onto the deck, Sereia waved her over.

“I have a task for you,” she said in a hushed tone.

Yon nodded and stepped closer.

“I need to know what happened with the supposed insurrection and if a new king sits on the throne in Caithaird. It is imperative you find out everything that is happening in the castle and a means for getting in unnoticed. I don’t want anyone in the palace to know that we’re here.” If Travion was well, Sereia could head straight back out to sea, and he would have no need to know she had rushed across the waters to check on him.

Yon’s large brown eyes peered up at her. While the other woman was petite and slender, looking as delicate as a water lily, she was an expert tracker. If there was ever a moment when Sereia needed information, it was to Yon she went. Yon never asked why, and Sereia never asked Yon how she acquired it. Her information had come in handy on more than one pillage of a merchant ship or when offloading goods once they were acquired.

“Should I leave immediately? Is this why we have come to Mointeach?” She studied Sereia carefully, questions brewing in her dark brown eyes. It made Sereia wish to shuffle in place, as if Yon were seeing down into the heart of her. The crew closest to her had all recognized the desperation within Sereia. Had known it was something greater than a need to return home. She wasn’t so good at hiding herself from those who saw her day in and day out in tight quarters.

“This is top priority. Leave now.” That was all she was going to give her. Just like Adrik, there were things Yon didn’t need to know.

Without another word, Yon disappeared down the ramp and into the crowds on the dock. And with her Sereia’s concerns went. Whatever word Yon returned with would decide how this shore leave was going to go for Sereia, and for any who got in her way.