Dusk fell. Sela emerged from the cave, exhilarated already, and ran down the beach towards the water. As promised, the ocean had pushed Tieran’s sword and loose copper, silver and gold coins from shipwrecks up onto the sand.

She ignored both and held out her arms. Before she reached the wet sand, the sea snatched her and pulled her into its depths. She surrendered to it, allowed the rocking in her blood to sync with the ebb and flow of the tides. The rare, peaceful sensation of being one with herself and her magic left her in ecstasy. She let the water sweep her out to the sound and return her, content to swim among its many creatures and float along the currents.

After some time passed in a dreamlike state, she neared the surface of the Bay. The sky above was dark. A sliver of a moon and starlight filtered through the water, making the waves sparkle.

Relaxed, tired, satisfied beyond anything she had ever felt, she allowed the ocean to wash her up onto the beach. Sela sat in the surf happily with the magic humming through her body as the water rushed past her, through her.

She felt Tieran’s gaze and twisted. He sat on the beach, out of reach of the waves, his elbows on his knees, watching her. Did the tranquility in her blood soothe him as well? He did not appear agitated despite the distance between them and the time she had spent in the ocean. He made no move to drag her from the sea’s depths.

The sight of him filled her with confusion once more. A thrill went through her, warm where the ocean was cold. Something had changed between them. If she sensed it, he would as well. What did it mean?

Turning away, Sela concentrated on the ocean and its magic.

A wave bowled her over, and she laughed. Standing, she lifted her arms. The sea created waterfall pillars in front of her. She sidestepped, and they followed her motion. Unwilling to let her one night with the sea go to waste, Sela began dancing with the waves. The water responded, creating shapes and moving with her, at times wrapping her in waves and other times, content to writhe and twirl near her in sync with her movements.

“Sela.” Tieran’s call penetrated her joyful dance. He had moved closer to the wet sand.

She turned.

“Tomorrow will be long. We both need sleep.”

She sighed. Her time with the ocean was coming to an end, and she was not at all ready to leave it. A streak of mischief flared within her. She sent a wave towards her guardian, dousing him from head to foot.

Sela laughed.

Tieran blew out a breath, displeased.

“I’m almost done,” she said and whirled away. The sea joined her in the happy dance. She spun and spun and spun, laughing breathlessly at a column of water mirroring her movement.

Tieran caught her, one arm wrapping around her. She collided with his body. He bore the impact with ease and held her close. The fever returned, creeping into her blood, competing with the magic. The water playing with her erupted into a spray of droplets that rained down on both of them.

Her arms dropped, and she gazed up at him. No one had ever looked at her with the intensity Tieran did. In that moment, she became both overly aware of herself and lost to anything but his eyes, which glowed golden in the moonlight, and the feel of his hard body against hers. Breathless from her dance as well as his look, she rested her palms against his chest and waited.

“You’re as wild as an Inlander.” Tieran pushed a wet strand of hair from her face. His eyes dropped to her lips.

Heat bloomed at the base of her stomach. A fever mixed with the cool magic, both racing through her blood. Would he kiss her again? Would he touch her differently than he did when tending her wounds or trying to control her?

Tieran’s eyes went to her lips. Heat flared in his eyes, and she held her breath in anticipation of experiencing his kiss again.

He abruptly released her and stepped away. “Now,” he said and turned his back to her.

Startled by his rejection, Sela stood in place, grappling with the heat in her blood. What had happened? He had seemed interested and then changed his mind.

Did he regret the kiss they shared? Had it somehow offended him?

Tieran never backed down from anything, and she had the sense he was … retreating, if not running from her.

Sucking in a deep breath to settle her rattled thoughts, Sela walked towards the cave. He had started a fire inside at some point while she danced with the waves. His sword and the coins were piled on one side of the fire. She paused near the blaze.

Tieran stretched out next to the fire, facing it, with no space between his body and the fire for her to lie.

Sela frowned, unable to explain his sudden shift or the flutter of new emotion inside her. She lay down beside him and glanced at the back of his head. How did she ask the question she was embarrassed to know the answer to?

Why had he not kissed her a second time?

The memory of their first kiss was enough to make her body flush from the top of her head to her toes. She rolled onto her side and pressed her back to him, frustrated she could not read her protector’s mind, and wishing he could not read hers.

* * *

Tieran kept his distance the following morning as well. He led her away from the cliff and the sea, towards one of the coastal villages perched on a bluff. They did not enter the town but waited in a grove outside it.

Sela sat quietly, eyes as much on Tieran as they were on the village he observed. He had spoken only a handful of words since they woke that morning. He had not looked at her, either.

Disturbed by her guardian’s indifference, she began to suspect he had not wanted the kiss to happen and did not know how to handle her, now that he felt her reaction to him. If he regretted it this much, why not tell her, so they could return to the relationship they had before?

Is that possible? She had never been attracted to the cousin her king wished her to wed. She had never experienced any sort of fever when she crossed the paths of attractive men in her father’s palace or elsewhere. And she had definitely never felt her cool magic respond to the touch of anyone.

Was it better to pretend nothing ever happened? Could she be near him without thinking about it? Without her blood heating when he touched her?

Already, she missed the sea’s calming influence. Sela leaned her head back against the tree whose trunk was at her back. The sea’s call remained strong. It was close and yet, too far to soothe her restless blood. Unable to fully understand her reaction to Tieran, or his sudden distance, Sela could not help feeling a tremor of despair whenever she considered she would never visit the sea again.

Sensing the shift in her mood, Tieran glanced towards her. He did not speak but returned his attention to the village.

“Wait here,” he said and rose. He strode away from their concealed location.

Sela leaned forward, eyes never leaving him. Her guardian trotted toward the dirt road winding away from the city between lush, green hills. An older man on a wagon pulled by two horses was headed away from the village.

Tieran approached the driver and waved a hand at him. The driver slowed. The two exchanged words before Tieran handed him some of the coins the ocean had brought them. When the driver nodded, Tieran turned to face her direction.

He waved for her to join him.

Sela went, in no hurry to leave her sea behind.

Tieran went to the back of the wagon and opened the door leading into the dark interior packed with food, supplies, and clothing. He climbed in. She followed. The enclosed space smelled musty and was too filled with boxes and bags for both of them to sit comfortably. Tieran pushed to the side farthest from the door then sat.

Sela joined him, uncertain where she was supposed to sit. He reached up to take her arm and pulled her down. The touch rattled her, sent fire dancing within her. She gritted her teeth and willed herself not to react to him. She settled between his legs.

The older man stacked boxes in front of them before closing and locking the door. Breaths later, the wagon jolted forward.

Tieran’s arms went around her, and she relaxed against him. Her shoulders fit between his. She put her arms down, jerked back when they encountered his hands, shifted to find a place to put them and then gave up. Their quarters were too tight, and holding her arms up above her head would be too awkward to maintain. She rested her arms down and tried not to think about the man at her back.

“Do you trust this man?” she asked doubtfully.

“He is an Inlander. Inlanders can be bought. He will take us where we wish to go.”

She had not been able to tell the driver was an Inlander. His plain appearance told her only that he was likely a peasant. But Tieran would know his own kind, she assumed.

Sela leaned her head against his shoulder. The fever inside her subsided without completely disappearing. She was comfortable enough in his arms to want to sleep.

“Are we going to find allies?” she asked in an attempt to stay awake.

“I haven’t decided.”

His answer was more clipped than usual. How was it possible for her to miss their contentious exchanges? Was it better to be civil and know he was upset, or to have another heated argument because he was concerned about her?

The farther the wagon ventured from the sound, the less magic she felt. Sela’s distress grew the longer they rode.

“We will return on the full moon,” Tieran said softly.

“We will?”

“Every full moon.”

Her brow furrowed. Happiness bubbled within her, but she sensed an effusive response was not appropriate for Tieran’s mood. “Thank you,” she said instead.

He was silent.

She stared into the darkness. “Are we going to your uncle’s?”

“No.”

She waited.

“I’ll fetch my gold first. If we need allies, we will buy them.”

Sela said nothing more. How long they traveled, she did not know. The driver stopped twice – once late afternoon and a second time past dusk – to let them stretch their legs and eat. The scenery changed with each rest, with the second stop resembling the Inlands. Sela sensed no water magic at all.

She climbed back in the wagon and settled into place in Tieran’s arms. They tightened around her, and she rested against him, despondent after the brief joy of frolicking with her sea.

She dozed off and on, dreaming of water, swimming with the sea creatures, and the fear she experienced when confronted by the open ocean.

The wagon jolted to a halt, waking her. Groggy from the little sleep, Sela sat up straight. The driver unlocked the door and opened it, displaying a brilliant Inland morning. She shaded her eyes and blinked before creeping forward. She exited the wagon and stood, observing the savannah stretching in every direction. The breeze rippled through the grasses, resembling waves, in a way that made her homesick for the sea.

She sensed a lake nearby without seeing it, perhaps behind a hill. And … something else was here. A flickering of sea magic.

She looked around, uncertain how she could feel the ocean when it was a day’s travel away. The magic came from no direction she could identify. Unlike the lake, whose call she could pinpoint, this new magic permeated her surroundings.

She heard Tieran and the driver speak without paying attention to either. She shielded her eyes with a hand, peering towards the hill hiding the lake and then around her again.

Not a well, not an underground water source, not a stream or second lake.

What was calling to her? Why was it familiar? Was the source of the elusive voice of the sea that she had noticed sporadically since entering the Inlands near here?

The wagon rolled away, down a road overgrown with grass.

Tieran strode towards one of the few clusters of trees in the Inlands. Several of them were blackened by fire, and the grass beyond them was littered with the charcoal remains of a small village. No other people, horses, or villages were within sight.

Sela followed him curiously, unable to shake the sense magic was present.

Tieran paused in the shade of a large tree, observing the area where the small village had once stood. Sela stopped beside him. His gaze was fiery, lethal, his features drawn and his body rigid enough to snap. Any question she had about where they were died before it reached her lips.

“This was my home,” he answered through clenched teeth.

Her heart went out to him. Sela looked out over the ruins of his village. She did not want to know what went through his mind as he returned to the site of where his sisters were murdered. Nothing she could say would help him.

He walked toward the charred remnants of his home.

She remained in place, doubting even she could calm him.

She gave him his privacy and sat at the base of the tree. Tieran walked through the village deliberately, pausing at several points along his path.

Was he imagining what had happened there? Or did he recall a happier time, before his enemy swept through and destroyed everything?

She wanted to think she would remember only the good but could not help remembering the last time she saw Karav disappearing over the top of a hill, walking confidently towards his death.

A tug of cool magic came from behind her. Sela peered around the tree, uncertain what to expect from the mysterious magic. She glanced towards Tieran. He crouched at the edge of the village, his attention completely absorbed by his memories.

Sela rose and left him in peace.

The flicker of magic retreated, but not before she sensed its source behind a small hill. Sela walked towards it, through the pale, waist high grasses of the Inland savannah, beneath the mid-morning sun whose heat made her long for the sea once more.

When she reached the hill, she was breathing hard. She turned to face the village.

Tieran had not moved. His head was bent.

She studied his hunched form, hating that anyone could hurt as he did. She wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him and use her cool magic to bring him peace.

Was peace even possible after what he had lost?

Tieran was not a man who would want to be considered vulnerable. If he chose to share his pain, she would listen. As much as she did not wish to, she had to grant him his space.

Helplessness crept into her again, along with a sense of loneliness. Were these her emotions or his? She could not tell.

Hugging herself, Sela circled the hill. No water sources appeared in the savannah on the other side.

The whisper of magic came again, this time from behind her.

She faced the hill. How was the lump of earth in front of her radiating water magic?

Frowning, she was about to return to the village when her eyes fell to an anomaly in the side of the hill. The grasses grew in a different angle along a square patch.

Sela approached. She made out the outline of a door that had been covered by grass. Pushing the grass aside, she ran one hand over the door to find a knob or other means of opening it. Her fingers bumped into metal, and she pulled the grass out from around it. The rusted ring was heavy. The door held no lock.

She pulled at it.

It did not budge.

Bracing her leg against the side, she used both hands and hefted it with all her strength.

The door gave a little then sprang free suddenly enough to disrupt her balance. She landed on her backside. The space behind the door was dark, the smell emanating from it musty. Her nose wrinkled. She stood.

Familiar, cool magic trickled into her more strongly.

Finally! She had found the source of the magic teasing her since she entered the Inlands!

Sela climbed up into the doorway and blinked rapidly, trying to make out anything beyond the darkness. The sound of water dripping reached her ears, and sunlight illuminated the uneven stone flooring leading away from the door. She entered, one hand on the wall to her right. The floor sloped downward. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she began to realize it was not completely dark inside. Glowing moss lined both sides of the wide hall through which she walked. The faint scent of the sea was in the air as well.

At first, she thought the gaping patches of darkness lining the corridor were holes. When she saw the skeletal arm stretched outward from one, she realized she had stumbled upon catacombs. She shivered and crossed her arms, uncomfortable in the resting place of the dead.

The crypts on either side of her lined the corridor sloping downward, deep into the earth, in a lazy spiral. The farther she walked, the stronger the magic grew, and the more intrigued she became.

From what she had seen, Inlanders burned their dead. Why did this place exist at all? And how could it smell of the ocean when the sea was so far away?

Glowing moss filled in the spaces between the dead and had grown to cover the ceilings.

She stopped. While the call of the magic came from ahead of her, she had felt a faint spark that faded just as fast.

Sela took a step back.

The spark returned.

She moved forward, and it vanished again.

She peered up and around, unable to identify the source, before her eyes fell to the hollowed out, open crypt in the wall beside her. She moved to stand closer, and the magic returned.

“Who are you?” she whispered to the bones within the grave. Her eyes scanned the skeleton covered in clothing. Its manner of dress reminded her of the paintings of ancestors her father displayed in his great hall. No one had dressed like this in the history of her family’s paintings, though.

The form in this grave was small without being childlike, with plenty of space between its head and feet and the edges of its tomb.

With a grimace, Sela leaned closer to make out the details of the skeleton’s dress. No sigil marked its gown, which appeared to be well tailored and ornately decorated. She held out her hand over the bones. The cool flicker of magic tickled her palm, giving Sela no doubt as to what – or who – she had found.

“You’re a water mage,” she murmured. From what the priests taught her, the lawless Inlands had been independent for a thousand seasons at least. She had memorized the names of every water mage for the past two thousand seasons, and none of them were known to have lived, or died, in the Inlands.

How old was this mage?

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, awed by the idea she had discovered a new line of mages.

The dead had no answer for her.

Unable to find any other details about the body that might help her identify when this mage had died, she leaned away and continued walking.

After another few steps, another flicker of ancient water magic reached her. She studied the second body. It contained no markings or sigils, and its clothing was more plain. Sela continued walking, only for another spark to flare inside her and then another. All came from the right side of the corridor, which she began to believe contained the crypts belonging to women.

Five more sparks caught her attention before she reached the end of the catacombs. She tilted her head, able to hear the faint roaring of the ocean somewhere beyond the stone wall in front of her. Placing her palms against the wall, she felt the vibration of water flowing on the other side.

The sea was present. Though how the ocean came to be trapped beneath this hill, she could not imagine. The longer she spent in the catacombs, the more intrigued she became.

“Sela.” Tieran’s voice was quiet, his approach silent.

She glanced over her shoulder at him without lifting her hands. “What’s behind this wall?”

“Behind it?” he echoed. “Dirt. Grass. I don’t know.”

“How old are these catacombs?”

“This is a sacred place, Sela.” His tone carried no warning, but she heard the reverent note in it.

She turned, studying him in the dim glow of plants. For a moment, she could not help comparing the lighting here to that of the sea creatures underwater when Tieran had kissed her. She dismissed the memory before it fevered her once more.

“I thought Inlanders burned their dead,” she murmured.

“Tribal leaders from my mother’s line have always been buried here,” he said. “You should not be here.”

She hesitated, hearing his firmness. “I apologize, Tieran. But I feel the ocean. It’s beyond this wall.”

He was quiet for a breath before walking towards her. She stepped aside, hating herself for noticing his scent and the warmth of his body as it brushed against hers. Tieran placed his palm against the wall.

“Do you feel it?” she asked.

“I feel something.” He lowered his arm.

“These are your ancestors?”

“From my mother’s side, yes.”

“Did you know they were water mages?”

“That’s not possible.” His gaze fell to her. Sela tried not to be aware of the distance between them. “There’s no magic in the Inlands. Certainly not water magic.”

“But it is,” she insisted. She stepped away before his nearness disrupted her thoughts. She paused beside the oldest of the mages. “She was a mage. All of them as well.” Sela indicated the next six tombs.

“You know this how?” Tieran sounded uneasy.

“I can feel it.” She held her hand out above one of the skeletons. The spark lit up inside her, tiny but present. “Can you?”

Tieran approached her from behind, stopped beside her and rested a hand on her hip. Sela held her breath.

“Yes,” he answered. “I can when I touch you.”

“I don’t know how, but you have a long line of water mages in your ancestors.” She shook her head. She wanted to comment on the strangeness of water mages in the barbaric, waterless Inlands but chose not to. “That’s why I’ve always felt the magic in you. You’re no normal mage-warrior. You’re a warrior in whose blood flows the power of a mage.”

“I’m no mage.”

“You carry the blood of ancient mages. My mother did not have my power, but she had the magic in her blood,” she explained. “I imagine your ancestors also carried mage-warrior blood. Perhaps the mages guardians are there.” Her eyes went to the men’s side of the corridor.

“These are mated pairs across from one another,” he said, indicating the tombs. “Is that usual? For a water mage to mate with her warrior?”

“I don’t know. The women in my mother’s line have always married nobles chosen for them by the king,” she said thoughtfully. “You have no less than twelve water mages among your ancestors. Could you imagine how powerful a water mage would be, if your line and mine were to mix?”

The moment the words left her mouth, her breath caught. They were wrong. So very wrong.

Sela began walking up the sloping path, back towards the entrance and away from Tieran. The retort she expected from him did not come. She hurried ahead, unable to deal with the tension between them in such an enclosed space.

She breathed deeply when she stepped out of the catacombs and into the sun. Tieran followed her, his expression grim, if not troubled.

“I apologize, Tieran,” she said again. “I heard the ocean and followed.”

He glanced at her before turning to close the door leading to the catacombs. “I’m not concerned.”

Surprised, she did not know how to respond. Tieran was upset, but it was unlike him to keep his anger to himself.

“Tieran, what is it?” she pressed. “Your quietness is driving me mad!”

“I thought you would prefer it this way.”

“You have never once done anything I preferred!” she retorted. “I would rather you be you than … this.”

He snorted, the only sign of his amusement. When satisfied the door was closed securely, he faced her.

“I brought you to my home for a reason,” he said.

“For gold.”

“Yes.” He wiped his mouth. “But also to remind me.” He walked away, back towards the burnt out village.

Sela trotted after him. “Remind you of what? You’ve had your revenge.”

“That’s not what I mean, Sela.”

She shook her head, frustrated.

Tieran did not stop walking when he reached the village but led her to one of the many burnt out foundations towards the center. He stopped then, jaw clenched.

“My sisters died here. My mother and father as well.”

She gazed around the space in respectful silence.

“The Inland wars are nothing compared to what you will draw to us.”

Sela lifted her chin in defiance without speaking. Tieran was beginning to realize the truth of their situation. It was not the time to remind him she had been trying to warn him of their danger all along.

“I have thought the past few days it would be better for you if you married your cousin and had an army to protect you,” he added with a scowl. “I have also thought you are mine, and I will never lose what is mine again, even if that makes me a fool.”

“Did you think to ask me?” she questioned, irritated he would decide her fate without consulting her.

His gaze fell upon her.

“You’re my guardian,” she said. “As much as I hate to admit you’re right, I would rather be here than some king’s prized possession at court. I will not fight a war where I am forced to take innocent lives.”

“We may die here, Sela, and soon.”

She shifted her weight, distressed by the confident warrior’s sudden loss of faith in their destiny. “You won’t let that happen,” she replied. “We can find allies. Your uncle might help us.”

“Dare I endanger the lives of my remaining kin for the sake of a mage?”

She flushed. The words were spoken without heat, but the impact was the same as if they had been shouted at her. “That is a decision you must make,” she said and turned away. “I would never fault you for choosing family over duty.”

She walked away stiffly. The depth of his concern left her feeling like the helpless burden she had always been to him. Protected by her father, Karav’s family had never been threatened, but Tieran’s would always be in danger.

Sela allowed the tug of the catacombs to guide her path. She wanted to uncover why the sea appeared to be speaking to her in the land-locked Inlands. Doubting Tieran would choose her over his kin, she tried not to let his unspoken rejection wound her.

Why did she feel crushed? She had peered into his heart and lost her ability to push him away while he appeared unscathed by the changes between them.

She returned to the entrance of the catacombs. Instead of entering, she sat at the base of the hidden door and concentrated on understanding the water magic’s faint whisper.

For once, Tieran did not pursue her. Her sorrow expanded as the day grew on. After all they had been through, would he abandon her now?

* * *

Dusk fell several hours later, and still he did not come to her.

Sela sighed, prepared to convince herself to give up any hope of Tieran being at her side. She rose and circled the hill. Expecting to see a fire, she was surprised to find none. The closer she walked to the charred village, the quicker she went.

Tieran was gone.

“Tieran!” Sela reached the edge of the village, searching the area visually. If he had gone hunting, would he not have ordered her to remain where she was until he returned?

How could he have left at all, knowing the madness would claim him?

“He’s gone.”

She whirled. The translucent mirage of the Sorcerer stood a short distance behind her.

“Did you take him?” she demanded.

“Trapped in my palace, I can do little,” he reminded her. “And my armies cannot cross the ocean. I lost all my trade ships today.”

“That’s your fault!”

“I misjudged you.” His image flickered without completely disappearing. “I came to negotiate.”

“I have other concerns requiring my attention.” She turned away, alarmed by his claim and hoping to find some sign Tieran was not gone for good.

“I will tell you where he is, if you grant me one request.”

She frowned. “How do you know where he is?”

His form materialized in front of her. “One of my few abilities is that of observing from afar. Though I cannot see you at all times, I happened to be looking when he was taken.”

“You’ve been watching me?” She glared at him.

“Yes. For a moon or two.”

She shook her head and chose to deal with the more pressing matter. “Tieran would never be taken if he were alive and not under a spell.”

“The men who took him bound him with a leather whip and dragged him off without resistance. They wore the sigil of a crossed sword and arrow. If what little I know of your people is correct, it is the symbol of the mage-warrior slayers used rarely but maintained by priests to punish rogue warriors. They disabled him and placed a collar around his neck.”

Sela’s pulse raced, and her breath caught. Karav had told her about the slayers, which priests used as the last resort to kill a rogue warrior who could no longer be controlled. “How do I know you tell the truth?”

“Because I need something from you. I will trade whatever you ask for in exchange.”

“Tell me where he is,” she whispered. “Once I verify he is there, I will grant your request.”

“I’ll show you.” The Sorcerer’s form vanished, only to appear forty horse-lengths away, near a hill opposite the one where she felt the ocean.

She hesitated and then followed, determined to find Tieran, even if she had no plan for freeing him without being captured.