All thoughts and rationale leave my mind as Cail kisses me. I become aware of one hand cupping my face while the other is fixed on my waist. I have been kissed once before, as a dare when we all snuck out to a beach party when we were sixteen, but it had been uncomfortable and awkward. This kiss is different; it is primal and raw, and my body takes over as if it were being controlled by a separate mind.

At some point, I must have taken a step back because the wall is now behind me, and I use it for support as Cail’s body presses closer to mine as his kisses become hungrier. I decide I don’t want this moment to end, and I find myself hooking an arm around his neck, afraid that he might slip away. He doesn't complain, he only grips me tighter as our lips move together sensually.

The woman’s song fades to an end, and a blanket of silence falls around us. Cail’s mouth breaks away from mine suddenly, and he staggers back to put some distance between us.

He looks around dazed and confused, and some new, needy part of me wants to tell him to come back. I can’t make sense of what happened, but it feels as though something inside of me has been unlocked.

“Sirens!” Cail curses before laughing awkwardly. “Sorry about that; if I knew they were going to start singing, I would have stayed away from you.”

“Sirens?” I try to question, but my voice fails me, and I just end up mouthing the words.

My brain can barely string a simple thought together, and I glance around wildly in an attempt to gain an understanding of what is going on.

My eyes land on a woman standing in the fountain. Her chest is covered only by a pair of large shells, and she wears a skirt made from seaweed on the lower half of her body. As she takes a bow, people start to cheer.

Around her, I see that there are many couples who have also been embracing and are laughing between themselves now that the moment has passed.

Realisation hits me. Cail is right; the woman who was singing is a siren. Their songs are known to be an aphrodisiac that temporarily causes deep infatuation and lust for those around you. None of what just happened was real.

While I’m dazed and confused by the situation, Cail appears merely amused. I can’t bring myself to look at him after what has just happened between us, so instead, I busy myself soothing Bay, who is still shaken up by the loud bangs.

“Don’t worry or think too much into it,” Cail reassures me. “What happens in Ravenglass stays in Ravenglass. We’ll just treat it as one of those situations that don’t count because you’re drunk and never speak of it again.”

I make sure my expression is as neutral as possible before I turn to him. “Of course, I was never worried,” I tell him.

He must have bought my lie because his face relaxes, and he smiles casually. “Good, I don’t want this to make things awkward between us.”

“It isn’t; we’re still friends as always. Can we go see the fountain? I want to take a closer look at the statue.” I force a cheerful smile on my face and change the subject.

“Certainly,” he replies.

As soon as we approach the water, Bay leaps from my arms and starts swimming and splashing around in the crystal clear water. I glance around nervously, concerned that he is contaminating a holy shrine or something. I look to Cail for guidance, but he just shrugs and laughs.

“If they let sirens in the water, I’m sure they don’t care much about an otter,” he says, fiddling around in one of his coat pockets. He pulls out two coins and hands one out to me.

“What’s this for?” I take it hesitantly.

He points to the water, and under the ripples, I make out thousands of coins scattered across the bottom.

“This is where people make offerings to Taenya, the winged faery in the statue,” he explains.

“What is so special about her?” I ask, hoping that I’m not offending any deity.

“Well, mostly the fact that she had wings and outstanding powers to go with them.”

“Fae don’t have wings? I swear I saw one or two in the crowd earlier.”

“Those were probably nymphs,” Cail says. “They look similar to the fae, but their magic does not compare.”

“So this Taenya was the only faerie ever to have wings?” I question.

“It’s fae folklore that there was once a time that all faeries had wings, but Taenya is the only winged faery to be named in the ancient tomes as ever being real. Though, most of the fae now believe that she was actually a goddess rather than a mortal faery.”

I stare up at her statue. Her long hair is carved to be whipping around her wildly, and her arm is positioned to be stretched out far above her head. I can’t tell if she is trying to reach up for something or if she is about to strike down at something below her. There is something eerie about the posture, and a shudder runs down my spine.

“Are you ready to give her your offering?” Cail asks, snapping me from my thoughts.

I had almost forgotten the coin in my hand. “Do we just throw it?” I ask.

“First, you close your eyes and think of a wish clearly in your mind, then toss the coin into the fountain. If Taenya deems you as being true of heart, then it is rumoured that she will grant you your wish.” Cail grips the coin in his hand in front of him and closes his eyes briefly before tossing the coin near the statue.

I follow suit, feeling the coin dig into the palm of my hand as I grip it tightly. I wish for peace, I think clearly. The coin leaves my hand and drops with a splash in the fountain, and upon seeing it land, Bay races to try and retrieve it. Cail shakes his head and laughs at the mischievous otter.

I don’t feel any different after making the wish. Perhaps my heart isn’t pure enough, or maybe the coin is too low of a value for the magnitude of my wish. I wonder if Cail has been granted his?

Eventually, I manage to encourage Bay to leave the fountain, and I haul his dripping-wet body into my arms. My uniform is instantly soaked through, something that Cail seems to find hilarious.

“We should probably be getting to the inn anyway. It must be past midnight by now,” he says.

The mild night breeze whips at my long wavy hair as we stroll to the inn, and the air holds an odd smoky smell that I don't find unpleasant.

“Can I ask you something?” Cail says, his face thoughtful.

“Sure,” I say, worried for a second that he's going to bring up the kiss.

“Your friend and the captain of the fishing boat you worked on, do they know you joined our crew?” he asks.

“No,” I say quietly, “they don’t. I lied and told them that I was going to go and live with my aunt in Bise because I didn’t want them to stop me.”

“You have an aunt?” He sounds surprised, and I realise that I probably made it sound as though I had no living family left.

“Yes, but I have never met her.” I have been hesitant to tell anyone about my aunt’s occupation after the quartermaster’s accusation, but Cail already knows more about me than anyone else right now, so there’s no point in withholding the truth. “Apparently she and my mother didn’t get along, and she left the islands years before I was born to join the coven.”

“She’s a witch?” He seems interested but does not show any distaste.

“From what I’ve heard. My mother never really talked about her.”

“Have you ever considered actually going to visit her?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, since my mother died and I left the islands, I’ve only really thought about avenging her and fighting. But I’m assuming that if she hated the islands and the family enough to leave, then perhaps she wouldn’t be happy to see me anyway.”

Before he can ask any more, we reach the inn; it is shorter than most of the surrounding buildings, but it looks just as magnificent. The outer walls are made from white marble, and some type of blue-green ivy creeps up the side and around the windows.

“Sef,” Cail calls me back before I can walk through the door.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing, I just … I got you something earlier, but then we got talking, and I never got a chance to give it to you.” He looks sheepish as he takes my hand and places something warm in my palm, closing my fingers around it.

When I open them up, I see a glowing yellow crystal pendant on a delicate chain made from some type of silvery metal.

“It’s beautiful,” I say quietly.

“It’s infused with fire magic and gives off a lot of heat. If you wear it under your clothes it should help to keep you warm when we’re in flight,” he explains.

My heart swells, I have never received such a thoughtful gift before, and I’m unsure of how to repay him. “It’s perfect. Thank you so much,” I tell him.

He smiles, seemingly pleased.

I am about to thank him with a hug, but memories of being in his arms rush to the front of my mind, and I stop myself. Instead, I fiddle with the clasp and fix the chain around my neck. The crystal sends pulses of heat through my chest, warming up my core.

“It looks good on you,” Cail says, inducing a red-hot blush up my face that has nothing to do with the heat from the crystal. I lower my head and pretend to be inspecting the pendant, allowing my hair to hide my face.

“We should go inside,” Cail says, brushing past me to hold the door open.

The inside of the inn is just as fancy as the outside: while the walls are made from the same polished marble as the outside, the furnishings are made from smoothed natural wood branches. It’s tranquil—well, the lobby is tranquil, but the bar through the door to the right is filled with Trevor’s drunken booming voice.

As we enter, Dusty rushes toward me, relieved. “I’ve been worried about you! I thought you might have been lost,” he cries.

In an effort to get him to join their drinking game, Leki and Trevor force Cail onto a barstool and place a tankard of alcohol in front of him.

“I’m fine, I was with Cail, and he knows his way around the city,” I reassure him.

“I’m glad you weren’t alone; there’s some very unusual people out there. I kept going out by the fountain to look for you, and this strange woman started singing and making me feel weird,” he says.

I blanch at the thought of how close Dusty was to observing what transpired between Cail and me.

“Here, try this.” Dusty thrusts a small cake into my hand that is oozing with sticky honey.

I take a bite, and the sweetness fills my mouth. The cake itself seems to be infused with some kind of citrus, and the flavour bursts on my tongue.

“It’s delicious,” I say.

“I’m going to try and replicate it back on the ship one day. We picked up so much yummy food, and the stallholders said that they preserve well, which is good for us. I have having to keep throwing out so much spoiled food,” Dusty rambles.

From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Freya, who is looking as flawless as ever, as she slips onto the stool next to Cail. An unwanted pang of jealousy rips through me as she leans close and laughs prettily at something he says. As though sensing my gaze, her attention snaps to me and she launches a glare that holds a clear warning: back off.

“Are you okay?” Dusty asks. “You don’t look so good. Maybe you should come and sit down.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to find my room and try to get some sleep. I’m feeling a bit tired,” I tell him. I need to be alone with my thoughts so that I can finally process everything that has happened tonight.

“Okay, well, I hope you have a good rest.”

I retrieve a room key from the faerie at the front desk and navigate my way through the large inn. Eventually, I find the right door and slip inside, locking it behind me. The furniture inside is made from the same type of wood as the rest of the inn, but a large soft green rug covers the floor. In the middle of the room is a large luxurious double bed with natural branches as the posts and gossamer-thin silk curtains drape down on either side. As soon as I put him down, Bay begins sniffing and exploring every inch of the room.

I approach the large floor-length double windows and pull them open, leaning against the railing and watching the city below. Even though the vendors have closed up the stalls, the streets are still alive with merry celebrations. Across the street to the left, my eyes immediately fall on the indigo and pink crystals that light up the arched tunnel where Cail and I had kissed.

With a sigh, I lean forward and bury my face in my hands. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop my mind from recalling that moment. Unlike my grief, the feelings that the kiss exposed aren’t as easy to suppress deep inside. Especially when they keep rising to the surface every time I see him.

I groan. How has everything become so messy? I imagine that it’s much easier for Cail; he can blame the moment entirely on the siren and put it behind him. Unfortunately, it isn’t that simple for me because Curians are inherently resistant to the magics of seafolk, and for my part, that kiss had been real.

The fae council doesn’t turn out to be what I expected. Firstly, I didn’t expect to be attending it at all. Since I joined the crew of the Zarla, the captain and the senior military members have dealt with the war strategies and discussions, while the rest of us are only informed about our current mission. Secondly, I didn’t expect the council meeting to be taking place in the banquet hall—which also happens to look more like a giant greenhouse, based on the abundance of exotic plants around us and the humid air that accompanies them. Thirdly, I didn’t expect us to be offered so many fae delicacies and sweet treats, which are currently cluttering the table.

When I awoke this morning after a restless sleep, I had taken Bay out to the fountain for a morning swim. The streets had been desolate compared to the night before, although I imagine that they are likely sleeping in after their late-night celebrations, and I noticed that the crystals weren’t as noticeable in the daylight with the sun masking their glow.

Dusty had found me by the fountain and informed me that the crew was preparing to attend the meeting, and, after leaving Bay in my room and hoping he didn’t destroy the place, I joined the others in the lobby. Since then, I have been trying to avoid looking at Cail or allowing myself to acknowledge his presence, something that he made extremely difficult when he decided to sit next to me at the banquet table.

The rectangular banquet table stretches the entire length of the room and is made from the same ashy pale wood. Dusty and I had chosen to sit towards the end near the open glass doors. Somewhere out in the garden, someone is playing the harp softly.

I discover that the fae council is made up of only five members. I had expected there to be far more. Calarel is the head of the council and sits in the center of the table, opposite us. Iolas and Sonlar sit on either side of him. They are joined by two other faeries: an older woman with curly brown hair and a man whose straight hair is pure white. Cail whispers to me that the dark-haired woman is Queen Dasyra, the mother of the crown prince that we saw yesterday. I feel as though being in her presence should have more of an impact on the crew, but they barely pay her any attention. I’m ignorant about how the fae royalty works, but perhaps the titles of the female royals hold less weight than their male counterparts. He also tells me that the white-haired man is the fae equivalent of a military commander over the royal fae army, Ryul Keyceran.

“I hope that the food is to your liking,” Calarel says. “I believe we are ready for some fresh fruit to cleanse the pallet.” He picks up a bell that is shaped like a flower. The petals are made from crystal, but the stem and leaves appear to be made from silver. It chimes pleasantly as he gently shakes it.

A convoy of fae servers arrives, dressed in elegant uniforms, carrying crystal trays filled with all types of cut and whole fruits. I notice that Dusty eyes them hungrily—or does he? I thought it was the fruit appealing to him, but his eyes seem to linger on the handsome fae servers even after they have placed the trays on the table. I nudge him with my elbow and flash him a teasing smile that causes him to blush.

I’m already feeling full, but I pick up a star-shaped purple fruit off the tray and take a small bite. I have never tasted anything like it; it’s tangy and aromatic, and as I take another bite, mauve coloured juice trickles down my chin. As I swipe it away with my hand, my arm brushes against Cail’s, and I feel my heartbeat jolt. Why does he have to sit so close?

Fortunately, I don’t get the opportunity to dwell on it further because, after whispering quietly between themselves for a few moments, the fae announce that they wish to begin the council meeting.

“I would first like to welcome you all to this meeting and allow you to begin the proceedings by telling your account of the events that prompted you to seek our council,” Calarel says, his voice melodic and composed.

Captain Coldrun clears his throat before he begins. “We received intelligence from our Linarian liaison, Commander Elias Larson, that Vardrans were amassing in Kestria. He believed that they could be seeking the assistance of the Kestrians to develop new weapons to give them an advantage in the war, whether by force or by forging an alliance. Our mission was to travel to the capital city of Torver and speak with their governor about the matter. Before we could do so, however, we encountered a Vardran military ship that appeared to be protected by some form of magic.”

“Can you please elaborate on what kind of magic you mean?” Iolas interjects politely. “Was it protected by a bubble barrier similar to that conjured by the witches?”

The captain takes a moment to ponder. “No, this magic was different, and not one that I have ever seen before, and neither has my crew. The magic only covered the outer structure of the ship and was a bright visible purple that shifted to blue.”

The fae look between themselves, seemingly confused.

“What happened when this magic was touched?” Calarel questions.

“We first attempted to strike the ship with cannonballs, but they immediately deflected away before they could cause any damage to this ship. We resorted to sending our first bloods onto the ship to counterattack, but the Vardrans were reinforced by two more warships, both with the same protective shield,” The captain explains.

Calarel raises a hand to stop him from talking further. “I just have a few questions to ask before we proceed. First, you say that the cannonballs deflected from the magical barrier; how would you describe this deflection? Did it deflect with an explosion? With sparks? Any other phenomena that would indicate a display of magic?”

I lean forward and glance down the table at Captain Coldrun. His hands are brought together in front of him as he reviews his memory from that eventful day.

“No, I believe there was no visible display of magic or any reaction. The cannonballs merely bounced straight off the side of the ship as it was nothing,” he says before glancing around. “Did anyone from my crew observe anything different?”

We all shake our heads.

“Very well. Does anyone else have any questions before we proceed?” Calarel says.

“I do,” says Ryul, the white-haired man, “you stated that you had crew members who boarded the enchanted Vardran ship, can those crew members please raise their hands?”

I jump in my seat, not expecting to be called upon. I nervously raise my hand, assuming that Rat is doing the same.

“Can either of you two tell me if you felt any magic once you made contact with the ship? To non-magical beings, this may feel like a slight hum or vibration, or perhaps the air felt differently, maybe warmer?”

I wrack my brain, trying to remember if I had noticed anything of the such. I had been so blinded by my rage that even if the magic was detectable, I wouldn’t have paid any attention to it. Still, I feel as though I have to try my best to come up with something; our testimony could depend on it.

“I didn’t notice any sensations of magic aboard the ship,” Rat says confidently.

I feel better knowing that his experiences match mine. “I didn’t notice anything either,” I say, trying to keep my voice clear and unwavering.

More bafflement appears on the normally impassive faces of the faeries. I realise that we have given them barely anything that might help them to identify the magic that might have been used.

“Since that line of questioning has dried up, perhaps we should start focusing on the Vardrans themselves,” Calarel says. “I call on the two crew members who were present on the ship again. Can you tell me the races of the Vardrans?” His eyes land on me expectantly.

Once again, I’m confounded and unable to answer. I hardly know any of the races of the few parts of the world that I have seen, let alone the Vardran ones. I only know that many of the Vardrans I faced were heavily tattooed and had strange teeth and ears.

“They were mostly goblins from the badlands of the south-eastern Uamia region,” Rat says. I’m grateful for his knowledge. I have been under the impression that goblins were much shorter. “There were also a few humans that sounded like they had Kalanis accents,” he continues.

I don’t even know where these places are located. Perhaps I should study the map in the navigation room more closely—providing Cail isn’t in there.

“What we are specifically looking for is perhaps someone who fits the description of a desert shaman. They are usually dark-skinned, bald, covered in symbols and markings, carrying effigies, have their skin pierced with bones …” Iolas says.

I shake my head. I never encountered anyone fitting that description.

“Did you clear out the Vardran ship completely?” She asks.

“No, we were forced to retreat before the ship could be fully cleared,” Rat replies.

Calarel sighs. “The reason we are asking is that we have reason to believe that the Vardrans are in the process of seeking out the shamans of the Okesh Deserts in order to gain a magical advantage in the war. These shamans are elusive and, up to now, have kept to themselves. This means that we are unaware of what kind of magic they wield or what they are capable of doing. However, it is rumored that they are extremely powerful. If there was a shaman on board, they would have kept them hidden away out of sight. If the shaman was killed, the protection around the ship would have fallen, and they would have lost their advantage.”

“If the shamans are the ones wielding the magic, where do we go from here? Having a fleet of impenetrable warships invade Linaria would have catastrophic consequences. We need to know how we can stop this threat,” the captain emphasises.

“Before we get ahead of ourselves, we first need to establish whether the magic is indeed shaman. Additionally, shaman magic is something we have little knowledge on, so we will need to research the ancient tomes to try and identify a way of possible counteracting it,” Calarel says.

“What would you recommend that our next point of action should be?” the captain asks. “As I have already stressed, time is of the essence. Actually, another reason for our visit is that King Fury has asked the council to reconsider fae involvement in the war. With Vardra clearly having the upper hand with magic support, it is imperative that we bolster our own army with magic-wielding soldiers. Would the fae army be able to spare a few platoons for the cause?”

The five faeries exchange glances before Calarel responds, “You have given us much to deliberate on. Could you please give us some time to discuss the matters between ourselves? We will then return with a response. Until then, I will have the servers bring you some refreshments.”

“Of course,” the captain nods.

Calarel rings the bell once more, and the faeries silently rise from their seats and exit into the garden.

The servers return and refill our glasses with clear sparkling water, and Dusty begins tucking into the fruit once more while Cail leaves his seat to discuss something with the captain. With nothing else to do, I sip my water and fiddle with the warm yellow crystal around my neck.

Finally, the faeries return and take their seats, and Cail slips back into his next to me.

Calarel clears his throat lightly before talking. “We have come to an agreement regarding the points we discussed. Firstly, we have decided that we will need more verification of the magic and the wielder before we can advise further on the countermeasures to use. Your reports were correct in that there have been an increased number of Vardran warships amassing in Torver. We are also unaware of their motive, but we suggest that your first point of action be to investigate their activity with stealth. If you are able to get close enough to a magic-protected ship, you may be able to discover enough about it for us to have something to work with. Until then, we will have our research team investigate as much as they can based on what you have told us already.”

The captain nods thoughtfully. “And your decision on our request for fae military support?” he asks.

I hold my breath. This decision could be the deciding factor in the outcome of the war.

“It was unanimously agreed between the council members that the fae will remain neutral in the Linarian and Vardran war.”

I hear the captain sigh dejectedly along with other members of the crew. “Can I please ask the reason behind your decision?”

Calarel pauses for a moment to reflect, as though he is weighing up his words.

“While the fae are generally all-knowing in the current affairs of the world, the world is unaware of the current affairs of the fae. We understand that your war has ravaged the lands for many years with some devastating consequences, but the fae military is indefinitely occupied with other conflicts that can’t be discussed at present.”

A few of the others nod solemnly and find myself wondering what they could possibly be dealing with that’s worse than the war against Vardra.

“However,” Calarel continues, “we are willing to provide aid in other ways. As discussed, we will research the Vardran magic and, when identified, we will develop counteractive measures. In addition to that, we will offer you aid in completing your mission to Torver. We can provide you with crystals infused with glamour magic that will allow you to fly to Torver undetected and crystals infused with air magic that will allow you to fly with more speed to reach your destination. You will also be provided with one of our fulgbirds; they are three times faster than a pigeon and will be able to relay messages between us quickly. Once it has imprinted on your ship, it will be able to find it even while you are in flight.”

“That will be very useful, thank you.” Captain Coldrun says. I can tell from his voice that he is still frustrated by the refusal of fae soldiers.

Calarel claps his hands together cheerfully. “Unless you have anything else to discuss, I believe that this concludes our council meeting. Captain, I will send someone to your ship with the crystals, and they will instruct you how to use them. For now, I wish you luck on your mission, and we will be in touch soon if we discover something.”

“Thank you, that is all that we wished to discuss. My crew will take their leave now, and we will set sail for Torver in the morning.” The captain rises from his seat, and the rest of us follow suit.

We all shuffle back outside as Cail and the captain hang back to exchange casual conversation with the council members.

“Looks like we have the rest of the day in the city. What do you feel like doing?” Dusty asks me.

I turn to him with a smile. “How about I go get Bay, and we spend the day exploring? I think I saw a sign for an arboretum somewhere.”

His face lights up. “You want to go right now?”

I look back to where Cail stands with the captain. His gaze meets mine, and he smiles, raising a hand as if to tell me he’ll join us soon.

“Sure, there’s no time to waste, might as well take advantage while it’s still early.” While Cail can’t follow me this time, I think to myself.