Page 93 of Seaborn and the Seven Seas

The grass closed around us as his horse pushed through, the tall blades brushing my face, my arms, dragging across my shoulders like fingers. Cool and damp against my skin.

Then the energy shifted.

Wind whipped through the grass so hard it pushed against us, forcing us back the way we’d come. They didn’t want us here.

Theron’s horse pushed on. It felt like being underwater. Pressure without weight. My stomach lurched.

“What’s happening?” I shouted, my own voice echoing back at me strangely.

“Who dares to enter?” A woman’s voice resonated everywhere at once.

“We hold the pure stones,” Theron said through the gale.

As if those were the only words that mattered, the wind died. The grass stilled. The world seemed to exhale—blades spinning then settling, the path ahead clearing like it had always been there.

Behind us, the sound of hooves. Fraya’s mare burst through first, Minha gripping her waist, both of them wide-eyed. Ranis came through a breath later, Jina’s arms locked around him, her face buried against his back.

Then whatever had held us released its grip, and revealed another world. The dim canopy gave way to warmth and open sunshine.

Trees rose in every direction, light beaming through in long golden shafts that fell across a river running clear and shallow over smooth stones. Deer grazed at the bank, lifting their heads once before returning to the water. Cottages scattered among the trees, flowers climbing their walls. Smoke curled from chimneys.

Children splashed in the shallows, shrieking and laughing, chasing each other through the current. Women moved along the bank carrying woven baskets, exchanging words and giggling. Men hauled loads of wood between the houses, and some fished at the river.

No one seemed afraid. No one looked over their shoulder.

I hadn’t known a place could feel serene. Like the rest of the world—the queen, the soldiers, the auction blocks, dangerous caverns, and bounty hunters—didn’t exist.

In the cavern we had darkness and each other. That was all we’d ever known. I hadn’t understood until this moment what we’d been kept from. What the world could look like when none of us were in chains.

“Welcome to Pandrano. Where peace is the only way.” The gentle voice came before she did, materializing out of thin air.

Theron’s stallion dipped his head low, like a reverent gesture. The other mounts followed, their noses toward the ground.

Long golden hair shimmered in the sunlight, each strand catching the light like spun thread, falling past her waist in soft waves that moved without wind. Her face was narrow and pale, not a single wrinkle. For an ancient being, she appeared ageless as she approached, her long white gown flowing, the fabric catching light the same way the pure stones did—a faint luminescence from within.

Her almost colorless eyes found mine first, long enough to make my chest tighten before moving to the others. At last, to Theron, where they lingered a moment longer than the rest.

“I have been expecting you,” she said.

Not to Theron. Not to the group. But to me.

“Come.” Her white gown caught the light as she turned, waving to a young man sprinting toward us.

When we dismounted, the same young man took the reins, leading the horses toward the river, and we followed.

Her cottage sat deeper among the trees than the rest, partly hidden by ivy and climbing white flowers that framed the doorway. A stone path led up to the entrance, smooth and worn from years of use. Wind chimes hung from the low branches above, their sound soft and continuous, like the forest was humming a tune.

The smell of dried herbs settled into my nostrils the moment we entered. Bundles of plants hung from the ceiling beams, casting thin shadows across the floor. Shelves lined every wall with small jars, folded cloths, and wooden chests sealed shut with leather cord.

A fire burned low in the hearth. From a small kitchen area, porridge simmered over the flame, rich and savory, the aroma cutting through the herbs.

A bed sat in the far back corner, neatly made, a single candle on the table beside it. In the center of the room a long wooden table waited with enough chairs for all of us.

She gestured for us to sit, then took the chair at the head of the table and folded her hands in her lap. “What do you seek, child?”

“The pure—” Theron began.

She raised a hand in front of Theron without looking at him. “I didn’t ask you.” Her pale eyes stayed on me. “Let the bearer speak.”