Kingdom of Sea and Stone (Crown of Coral and Pearl #2) - Mara Rutherford Page 0,6

sea. I’ll need my strength.”

I looked up at him. “No, Father. That’s too dangerous. Stay home with me. We can dive together.”

He smiled sadly. “I wish I could. But there are too many hungry children to feed in this village. I see them in my dreams, their mouths gaping like baby birds’.”

My heart ached for those children and for the responsibility Father felt. “It will get better,” I said, though without the conviction I’d felt when I first reunited with Zadie. With so many people doubting me, it was becoming harder and harder not to wonder if they were right.

“Do you believe me, about Sami?” I pressed, even though I feared the answer.

Father sighed and looked up at the sky, then turned his dark gaze on me. “I will always believe in you, Nor.” He was quiet for a moment. “You’re going to search for him, aren’t you?”

“I have to, Father. Zadie needs him, and so do his parents.”

He nodded. “I know. But I hate to lose you again, when I just got you back.”

I closed my eyes and felt the tears slip past my lashes. “I don’t want to lose you, either.”

“Just promise you’ll wait until I return from my fishing trip.”

“I promise.” But even as I spoke, I wondered how long that would be. I had hoped coming home would calm the restless part of my soul that constantly yearned to move forward, the part of me that always wanted to be at the prow of the boat, the first one to reach the oyster.

But as comforted as I felt in my father’s presence, I felt equally compelled to leave, rather than wait for the village to decide my fate for me. There was a familiarity in running toward something, rather than away from it.

Father kissed my forehead. “My girl, take heart. No journey worth taking was ever easy.”

I hugged him and went to my room, where Zadie was already asleep. I slipped into bed next to her, letting the sound of her soft, even breathing calm my frayed nerves, saying silent prayers that this journey would prove worth the taking.

* * *

Father was gone before I woke the next morning, and Zadie was in the kitchen preparing food for the day. I changed into one of my old tunics and borrowed skirts from Zadie before joining her in the kitchen, relieved to find Mother was still asleep. I wasn’t sure if Father had told her what we’d discussed last night.

I had slept poorly, plagued by dreams of Ceren that felt disturbingly real. Fleeting images came back to me while I worked, of a teenaged Ceren sword-fighting with Talin and of a much younger Ceren climbing onto his father’s throne, as if testing it out for size. Why did I keep thinking about him, when he was the least of my worries now?

“What’s troubling you?” Zadie gently took the spoon from my hand. I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped stirring our stew.

I leaned closer to Zadie. Mother had an uncanny ability to ignore anything she didn’t want to hear, but she could somehow pick up gossip from across the house. “Why haven’t we received word that Varenia is free yet? Talin must know how worried I am. I left him days ago.”

Zadie squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “You said yourself that it would likely take time.”

“But how much time? How long are we supposed to wait?” I hadn’t told Zadie yet that I was planning to search for Sami as soon as Father returned. I was afraid she’d insist on coming, and someone needed to stay and make sure our parents were safe.

I couldn’t tell Zadie about my constant thoughts of Ceren, either. It would only worry her, and she’d had more than her share of worry lately. I forced a smile and went to the cutting board to chop herbs. “Never mind me. I’m just restless. I wish I could go for a swim to release some of this nervous energy.”

“I wish you could, too. But it isn’t safe to go out.” A few minutes later, she touched my shoulder on her way to gather the wash. “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” she said, but my mind was already far away in New Castle, wondering just who was sitting on the throne.

Several minutes later, she came in without a word, the color high in her cheeks.

“What’s the matter?” I asked as I set the knife down. “You’re flushed.”

“I was just thinking,” she said, her voice

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