Page 138 of In Rising Tides

Safe was a relative term.

Safe could mean that she wasn’t in any harm, but that didn’t mean she was okay.

It didn’t mean that she felt valued, or loved, or even taken care of. Wilder found it hard to believe she was being treated as well as she should be.

“Can you not see clearly?” Jordania asked, shadows dimming her golden eyes as she frowned.

Otto shook his head before hanging it between his shoulders.

Wilder could tell what Otto was feeling: guilt and shame.

His visions had only been this unreliable once before, and that time it had also centered around Lyra.

There was too much uncertainty surrounding her.

“I figured your visions would be stronger this near to a ley line,” she hummed.

Wilder’s head tilted to the side. “The one near the willow?”

She shook her head, her long chestnut hair spilling over a shoulder. “No, we’re almost right on top of one here. It runs the length of the shoreline in front of the cottage.”

Wilder sat straighter in his chair. He didn’t know how he had missed it, but he had felt the draw there.

He had just assumed it had to do with him seeking her out.

But every single day he found himself drawn to the shore, basking in the sun and the waves, if only to feel something, anything, again.

“How do you know?” Maelys asked, sharing a look with Ridge.

Jordania shrugged. “A multitude of reasons, starting with the fact that I can feel the energy pulse there beneath my feet when I walk along the surf. But also,” she tossed the stones onto thetable, and they made a perfectly straight line. “The stones told me.”

Their eyes lit up with surprise, and she scooped them off the table again. “I can also tell you what might be happening in Atlantis.”

Wilder’s attention skittered from Jordania to Otto. He raised his head, a look of awe lightening his features and chasing away the gloom that had gathered in his eyes.

It appeared he would not be offended if Wilder sought Jordania’s sight instead.

“Yes, tell us what you know.”

She nodded, wrapping the burgundy shawl around her shoulders and pulling it tight.

“It will take some time.”

Jordania didn’t situpon the shore. No, she walked along the surf. Her charcoal gown turned black where it met the water and clung to her legs.

She kicked up sand and water in her wake, leaving tiny droplets of both almost as high up as her bodice.

Her eyes were open, but she walked without seeing.

The footprints she left behind were there and then gone, erased by the sea.

Wilder inhaled deeply, the briny air filling his lungs and soothing the encroaching anxiety that had gathered there.

That was why he was down here every day.

The air smelled of her, and it chased everything else away.

Ridge cleared his throat as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I know she didn’t say how long it would take, but how long do we have to wait?”