Page 129 of In Rising Tides

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lyra snapped. “Drystan is the king. Surely he can put an end to this.” Lyra slung her arm in Drystan’s direction.

Estria hummed. “You heard Aegir today—not until Drystan’s been crowned. And the Tidal Master has been gaining favor as of late. To move against him would be foolish.”

“So we move quietly,” Lyra suggested, crossing her arms over her chest. “Have Adamaris see if any of the acolytes can be bought?”

Ishmael looked at Drystan before answering. “They have in the past.”

“Good. Pay them off to stall.”

Hadrian swished his tail, propelling him towards the center of the circle. “What do you mean?”

“Have them destroy supplies, make mistakes, lose things,” Lyra said. “Anything that would give us time to get down there without tipping off Aegir that we’re aware.”

When her response was met with silence, she frowned. “Surely you don’t all find that unreasonable?”

Drystan laughed quietly, the sound muffled behind his hand. “They don’t find it unreasonable. They find it clever, which is why they’re remaining silent—they weren’t quick enough to think of it.”

Caius snorted. “No, we find it so simple we don’t think it will work.”

Lyra turned on him. “Then you come up with something better.”

“There is nothing better,” Ishmael replied. “We’ll pay them off, but it will only buy us a few weeks.”

“Wouldn’t Aegir find it suspicious if we all show up at the temple?” Rigel asked, his pearl-colored tail shining iridescently in the dim light.

It would garner ample talk if half of the council arrived unannounced at a temple, much less most of the council.

There would need to be some kind of event or holiday to make it believable.

Lyra’s stomach tightened to the point that it made breathing difficult.

“We use the wedding as an excuse. I need to see the place to plan.”

Lyra woke long before the light had shifted in her room. It was still dim, and the luminescence coming from the tentacles was barely visible in the shimmer of gold that slid from the window.

There was a slow, deliberate pounding behind her eyes that hinted at the nuisance the day would be.

The pounding grew louder. It wasn’t just her head.

It was someone knocking on her door.

“Come in,” she croaked, her voice raspy with disuse.

Nerida whirled through the door, her black hair like a flag behind her. She hadn’t pinned it up.

Lyra blinked as someone else swam in right after Nerida, attached to her sister’s wrist.

“Did it have to be this early?” Thalassa whined.

Her hair was only partially pulled back. It was as golden as the light. It reminded Lyra of the sun, of the warm rays she had lounged beneath on land.

“Lyra—” Nerida snapped and then spun in a circle before finding her sister still in bed. “Did we wake you?”

Lyra eased up onto her elbows and brushed auburn curls out of her eyes. “I’m not sure. I think I was awake already.”

Thalassa blew out a breath, and bubbles swirled. “Told you,” she muttered.

Nerida shot her a glare before setting her attention on Lyra and waving what looked like a bit of spelled parchment in the water between them.