Page 76 of In Rising Tides

“It’s the call to worship,” he muttered.

The water grew colder, and goosebumps erupted down her arms.

Lyra pointed to her chest and then to her ears again. There was an otherworldliness to the sound.

Drystan nodded. “Siren magic.”

The singing swelled louder.

Lyra couldn’t remember the last time she had heard mermaids sing, and with magic, no less.

It was a summoning, a cresting wave of power, and it was entrancing.

They breached the colossal granite pillars of the throne room. She raked her eyes across the mosaic floor.

Ennosidas stared up at her with those piercing green eyes. His black hair reminded her of Wilder.

But they couldn’t be any less alike.

Had Tiandra once been there?

Or had this palace been constructed after Ennosidas lorded over the sea?

She looked up at the dais they were approaching.

The absence there made her hesitate. Drystan’s hand kept her moving forward, but the slight tug of her hand had him slowing.

Her father’s throne was gone.

The glimmering stalagmite chair that he had lorded from was not where it had always been. The murky light filtering down from the open dome ceiling reflected off nothing.

Lyra looked at Drystan with a quirk of her brow, but he shook his head just once.

The dais wasn’t completely empty, though.

There was a merman standing in the center, his arms stretched wide in welcome.

She had a sudden urge to flee.

He was commanding in every sense of the word. Nearly as tall and broad as Drystan, his shoulder-length black hair had a single streak of silver.

A scar marred the skin just above his upper lip. This must be the new Tidal Master.

“Aegir,” Drystan greeted him as he swung an arm low around Lyra’s back.

When he tugged her closer to him, she didn’t fight it off. It felt strangely protective in a way, but she knew he had meant it as a gesture of pride in a “look what I caught” kind of way.

Aegir clasped his hands in front of his chest and eyed Lyra. His blue-green eyes were so light they bordered on gray. There was a heavy assessment in his stare.

It made her uncomfortable, as if he could see beneath her white gown.

“So this is our lost Princess, home at last.”

Drystan chuckled. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hip, a warning.

“She is very pleased to be back home. Lyra, I’d like to introduce you to our Holy Tide Master, Aegir.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Aegir replied, his attention fixed on the frown tugging her lips down.