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A flash of blue light blinded Riella and silenced her friends. She was driven upward by a roaring tornado of white water for what seemed like an eternity. The siren could do nothing except be borne on the water, glimpsing tentacles as she whirled higher.
Then, all at once, it stopped. She was underwater, near enough to the surface to see shafts of sunlight. The current buffeted her sideways.
“What happened?” Sent Jarin.
With a jolt, Riella turned in the water, kicking her legs. Jarin floated in the water before her, apparently healed. And . . . able to Send to her.
Jarin looked around in confusion. He seemed completely at ease, and she realized he could breathe underwater. And so could she, although her tail and Voice had not returned.
“My friends recovered the Amulet of Delphine,” she Sent to him, making him start with surprise as he experienced telepathy for the first time. “They used it to save our lives. I believe the Sea Witch imparted some siren traits to us, as well.”
“You’re alive,” he Sent, sheer relief overcoming his features.
“We both are.”
“But you’re alive. Riella, all I wanted was for you to live, with or without me.”
“And I want you. I need you. Jarin, I have so much to tell you.”
His face broke into a huge smile. He swam to her, grabbed her waist and kicked upward. Together they broke the surface of the ocean, water streaming from their hair.
In the golden light of a new day, they kissed.
EPILOGUE
Old Cove was the last stop for Riella and Jarin before they were to board the Pandora with Berolt and Drue and the rest of the new Dark Tide Clan.
The first stop had been Klatos, to return Neve to her Starlight Gardens cohort. The mages greeted her rather indifferently, Riella thought, considering the danger the young sorceress had been in. Before saying goodbye, Riella and Neve swore allegiance to each other, should either of them ever need help.
Next, they traveled leagues inland to the Emerald Mountains, where Seraphine lived. The elf was welcomed home with warmth and relief. Patrols of elves had been searching for her fruitlessly, Polinth having concealed Seraphine with sorcery.
Riella then insisted they find Yvette, who was studying Herbalism and Healing at an academy in the countryside. She was bemused to meet Riella again. Polinth had come to the academy to question her about the map’s whereabouts, but she’d been canny enough to reveal nothing. Yvette had a new healthy glow, not unlike Seraphine. She spent her days learning from books and foraging for medicinal plants and tending to the infirm.
And finally, Riella and Jarin arrived at Old Cove, in the far northern reaches of Zermes.
The graveyard was easy to find. It sat atop a hill in the seaside hamlet, birch trees standing guard over the smattering of headstones. The leaves of the trees were turning orange, as summer gave way to the first breaths of autumn.
Riella and Jarin dismounted their horses as they approached the gates of the little cemetery, walking the rest of the way on foot. His parents’ grave was in the center. The headstone was hewn from white marble, brand new and elegant, naming Malakai and Levissina.
One grave was covered in thick velvety grass, and the other was piled high with fresh soil.
Jarin stood at the foot of the grave, his arm around Riella.
“Davron and Amelie brought her body here,” he said. “I can’t think why they’d do that, after everything.”
“Perhaps simply because they are decent people.”
“Then I pray they stay far away from Klatos and the throne, for their sakes.” He heaved a sigh. “I’m afraid death would await them.”
“But Davron is the rightful heir. I can’t see how anyone could stop him, should he wish to return.”
“The Garstangs are shrewd and cruel and power-hungry. They would not relinquish their newfound hold on Zermes easily.”
“I don’t know.” Riella leaned her head against Jarin’s shoulder, thinking of Polinth. “The shrewd and cruel and power-hungry have a way of plunging to their deaths.”
“I don’t believe I have to worry about Davron telling the Garstangs the location of my mother’s grave, at least. The Nikolaous and Garstangs are no friends to each other. My parents can finally rest, together.”
He and Riella lapsed into silence, gazing at the headstone. Overhead, a pure white dove arced in the blue sky. The breeze carried the sweet, musky scent of roses, which was impossible, because none existed nearby.
