an eternity. Then he lowered his head under the water.
The surf rushed out, shoving past until not even Lydia’s feet remained submerged. The strange power binding her released its hold, and she staggered, landing on her bottom in time for the next wave to splash her in the face.
Magnius was gone, and only the sand soaked far beyond the tide line gave her any comfort that it hadn’t been a delusion.
Retreating up the beach, Lydia sat with her violet skirts spread around her to dry, staring blindly at the ocean while she waited. Time passed, though whether it was a matter of minutes or hours Lydia couldn’t have said. It wasn’t until she heard her name coming from the ocean that she snapped out of her reverie.
“Lydia! Lydia!”
A longboat flew toward shore, Teriana standing in the prow with Bait behind her holding the oars.
Once they reached the shallows, Teriana jumped out of the boat, holding a wrapped package high above her head until she was on dry sand. Then she trotted up the beach. Tossing the package on the ground, she turned eyes filled with stormy seas on Lydia. “The only thing it appears you need help with is escaping the sun. You look like a boiled lobster.” Pulling off her battered hat, she plunked it down on Lydia’s head. “There.”
Lydia’s jaw trembled. “You might have mentioned Magnius was a sea monster.”
“He isn’t.” Teriana grinned. “He just looks like one. What did you think he was? Some sort of handsome merman who’d swim up to the beach and give you a kiss?”
The corners of Lydia’s mouth crept up. “I thought he was going to eat me.”
“Why would he do that?” Teriana punched Lydia gently on the shoulder. “You’ve got less meat on you than the half-eaten wing of a scrawny chicken. Besides…” Teriana hesitated, licking her lips and glancing out to sea. “Magnius is a demigod. A scion of Madoria, Goddess of the Seas. He isn’t ruled by hunger.”
That had been easy to believe last night with the haze of wine and the darkness blanketing their conversation, but now Lydia found her mind recoiling from her friend’s words. Recoiling from the very idea that Teriana and her people put their faith in myths and fables—practices that the Maarin had kept secret from the Celendor Empire. Practices that, until last night, Teriana had kept from her. “There is no such thing as gods,” Lydia muttered. “All can be explained by logic and reason.”
Teriana rolled her eyes. “Well, aren’t we just a good little parrot today. Though if I do say so myself, you’d be a lot more convincing if you hadn’t just confessed to speaking with an overgrown sea snake.”
“True.” Lydia stared at the sea, not sure what she believed anymore.
“What’s wrong? Tell me what’s happened to keep you from walking down to the harbor yourself?”
“My father has forbidden me to go to the harbor.”
“That so?” Teriana frowned. “Hate agreeing with a senator, but you were well to stay away today. Whole city’s in an uproar since Lucius Cassius announced he’s running for consul. If he wins, all Maarin ships will be giving harbors under the Empire’s control wide berth.”
“Did you hear as well that Lucius Cassius has decided to take a new wife?”
“Hadn’t.” Teriana huffed out a breath. “Though I pity the poor girl he’s chosen.”
Lydia grabbed fistfuls of sand, squeezing them hard in an attempt to maintain her self-control, but Teriana wasn’t fooled. “No…” her friend whispered.
Lydia nodded slowly. “My father signed the contract. A week after the elections, I will be the property of Lucius Cassius.” Lydia lifted her face, hoping against hope that Teriana would be her salvation. “I need you to take me with you when you set sail.”
But the look of misery on Teriana’s face dashed those hopes to pieces.
Resting her chin on her knees, Teriana said, “If it were my ship, I would, but my mum refuses to even consider the idea. It’s forbidden for us to take passengers, and she’s … rigid.”
Lydia remembered what her father had told her yesterday: her mother is not warm to your friendship. “I know she is.” Pressing her fingers to her forehead to try to steady her chaos of emotion, Lydia was rewarded with a jolt of pain as her sunburned skin rebelled from the touch. “I know it’s not your decision.”
“I’m sorry—”
Lydia held up a hand to forestall her friend, giving her head a weary shake. She didn’t want to hear Teriana’s apologies. Poking the package