Page 13 of Wateredge

“Imagining that you are threatening to curse some poor islander?”

Victoria’s laughter was full and sincere.

“Oh, you’ve been on the island for too short a time, songbird, or you’d have heard by now that the Crowharts don’t threaten anyone. Well, at least I don’t, child. It’s not a threat if I follow through.”

Lark gulped, but Victoria just smiled, her eyes full of something unreadable, something Lark felt had nothing to do with her at all.

“Sleep now. And when you wake up, we can talk about you starting to work at the Tavern once the storm passes.”

Lark all but swallowed her tongue. “Huh?”

“If you’re wondering, it wasn’t the roasted shells, songbird. You smelled the bisque first. You took the time with the scent before you tasted it. And that’s more than most would have done. It told me enough about you. You can begin with the dishes, then we shall see how you fare.”

Lark lay in silence for the longest time, suspended between reality and dreams, listening to the sounds of the house, the muted words coming from the kitchen, and the way the storm toiled outside. She was tired, pleasantly toasty, her stomach full for the first time in ages. The events of the day kept jumping over each other in her mind, like a game of hopscotch. Angels, ghosts, the snow, and eyes the color of the ocean. Lark shivered, not unpleasantly, and looked up as if sensing…

And there they were, as if by command of her imagination. Eyes that didn’t just look at her. Eyes that, when laid on her for the very first time, made her go, Oh, there you are.

It was okay to think these thoughts in this place and at this time, just before her dreams took over, when fatigue and fear receded, leaving her weak with relief.

It was okay to think about the ocean eyes that saw her. Nobody would ever know. Lark was falling asleep, and nobody would ever know. And in any case, it surely was just her mind playing tricks, because nobody ever looked at her that way. Like she was important. Like she mattered.

Her skin heated under the steady gaze from the doorway. Not just the color of the ocean, ocean-deep too. Deep enough to demand a question.

“Would I drown?” she did not remember asking.

“I’d save you,” she thought she heard Seren answer.

5

SEREN, VISIONS & CIRCLES

SNOWMAGGEDON TO BE OVER SOON! EARLY SEASON OPENING?

With scarce data and full hearts, the businesses of Crow’s Nest are turning their eyes toward the horizon and witnessing a considerable influx of tourists on the island. This phenomenon is explained by the Astronomy Resort establishing itself as a strong and constant attraction, as well as local businesses stepping up under the new leadership of Mayor Allende. The event calendar announced by the ebullient Chamber of Commerce is one to behold and is clearly already paying dividends, as ferry operating companies have increased the number of crossings per day, provided the weather settles and stays clear.

In the meantime, keep safe and indoors. There is still a whiteout over Dragons.

—Crow’s Caw

“You hired her?” Rhiannon’s voice was level, almost neutral. Her eyes were anything but. Seren crossed her legs at the ankles in the confines of her aunt’s small kitchen, taking up as much space as she could. She had no idea why she was acting as if she would need to go to battle at any second and therefore required to be at the ready.

Victoria ladled soup into a haphazard collection of mismatched bowls, setting them on the table one by one, her hands ignoring the heat. Seren knew better than to touch. She let the soup cool. Let her sisters ask their questions.

Deryn obliged almost immediately. “How come?” And because of course she touched the damn bowl, she yanked her hand away quickly with a hiss. Rhy shook her head. Seren could swear she said, “Some Fire Witch” before Deryn poked her tongue at her.

“Do I need to ask permission from any of you when it comes to how I run my restaurant?” Victoria tore hunks of the bread and dropped them into a little basket that Seren was fairly certain was older than the house.

Rhiannon shook her head again and blew at her soup before forgoing the wait and dunking a piece of bread into the buttery goodness.

Deryn followed suit, both in the head shaking and the dunking.

Ceridwen gave Seren a sideways glance, but had not touched her food.

“Are you under the impression that she is⁠—”

Victoria finally turned to face the table, her eyes matching the storm outside.

“I am under the impression that she is in need of help. And before all of you jump down my throat, I don’t believe that for one second that child upstairs is in any kind of trouble with the cops.”