The path was sandy but firm, easier footing than the treacherous descent Dorian had led her down. Octavia, despite her ordeal, moved with the practiced ease of someone who walked this way daily. Emily followed, appreciating the simple act of walking on solid ground without needing to constantly assess handholds or worry about falling debris. The sun felt warm on her back and the sand soft under her toes.

  At one point, Octavia stopped suddenly. Emily stopped behind her, just short of a collision. The girl's mouth was a hard line as she looked up at seagulls circling the sky. "That's not right," she said, pointing at the birds. "They've been flying in the same tight circle since st night. I should have taken it as the omen it was."

  They could do nothing to help the birds and so continued on. As they rounded the headnd, a cluster of small dwellings came into view, nestled in a slightly wider bay. Port Azurea was simple: perhaps two dozen huts constructed from weathered driftwood, stones, and daub, roofed with thick yers of dried reeds. Fishing nets were draped over racks to dry, and overturned coracles y scattered on the shingle above the high-tide line. The air smelled strongly of fish, salt, and woodsmoke.

  A vilge meant vilgers, a few of whom stopped in their paths, first waving to Octavia, and then staring curiously at the newcomer. The naked newcomer. Emily felt a familiar flush creep up her neck, and she reflexively hunched her shoulders, making herself as small as possible.

  "Hullo love," said the closest fisherman, his smile more wrinkles than teeth. "Nice day for a walk, innit?"

  Emily smiled bashfully, avoiding eye contact.

  A woman mending nets nearby chuckled. "Leave 'er alone, Alf. She's far too young for you." She turned to Octavia. "Who's your friend, then?"

  Face glowing with excitement, Octavia skipped closer and grabbed Emily's hand, raising it up in triumph. "This is Emily! She rescued me from certain death when my boat was caught in a whirlpool!"

  At this, everyone who wasn't already staring looked up from what they were doing, keen to get a glimpse of the hero. Emily smiled awkwardly, attempting to preserve some modesty with her free arm.

  Octavia's smile disappeared as she took in Emily's obvious discomfort. "Oh, sorry!" she blurted out. Then, leaning in, she whispered, "I forgot that... well, I didn't think you'd mind... I'm sorry!" Octavia picked up the side of her dress and tried to wrap it around Emily's back, hiding at least some of her body. "Come, let's hurry to my house! I've got some clothes for you there." Then, to the onlookers, she shouted, "Nothing to see here, folks!"

  Emily ducked into the crook of Octavia's arm as best she could and the two hurried toward one of the rger huts, followed by a half a vilge worth of eyes. Thankfully, the hut was on the outskirts of the small settlement, near the dock. "Here we are," she said. "Home sweet home. Though it doesn't look quite the same without the boat moored out front."

  Octavia pushed open a heavy wooden door and ushered Emily in, away from the vilgers' eyes. "Mama! I'm back! And I brought a guest!"

  The interior was dim but cozy. A central hearth smoldered, filling the single room with warmth and the scent of peat smoke. Simple wooden furniture lined the walls, and fishing gear hung from pegs. A sturdy-looking woman with a weathered version of Octavia's face and the same blonde hair, though streaked with gray and pulled back severely, turned from tending a pot over the fire. Her eyes, sharp and blue, widened first at Octavia's dishevelled state, then widened further as they took in Emily.

  "Octavia! By the Tides, what happened? And who...? Why are you...?" Her gaze fixed on Emily's nudity, suspicion hardening her features instantly.

  "Mama, it's alright! This is Emily. She saved my life!" Octavia quickly recounted the story—the strange whirlpool, the sinking boat, Emily's rescue.

  "...and she doesn't have any clothes on because they got lost," Octavia concluded. Emily's expnation of her nudity sounded even weaker when someone else said it.

  But this appeared not to matter. Through the course of Octavia's story, the suspicion in her mother's eyes had softened, repced by dawning horror, then a slow flowering of gratitude. She looked Emily up and down again, this time with a different assessment. "You pulled her from the grip of a whirlpool?"

  "Uh, yeah," Emily mumbled, fully conscious of the awkwardness of standing naked in the middle of this dy's kitchen.

  The woman's face broke into a broad smile. "Saved my daughter, you did. That deserves some kind of favor, though we haven't much to give." She bustled towards a rge wooden chest. "Octavia, find her something dry. One of your spare shifts and skirts. And that tunic Joric outgrew."

  While Octavia rummaged, her mother—whose name Emily learned was Mara—dled thick, steaming fish stew into wooden bowls. "Sit, sit," she urged Emily, pointing to a stool near the hearth. "Get warm. You look chilled to the bone. It's a brave woman who faces these unnatural tides."

  Emily took her seat on the stool, crossing her legs demurely, as Mara busied herself with the final meal preparations. "I did tell Octavia to stay home today, but she knew better. She always does. If you hadn't been on that beach... I shudder to think."

  Octavia soon returned with a bundle of clothes. She'd brought a simple, cream-colored linen shift, a sturdy brown skirt, a tunic that may once have been blue, and a pair of worn moccasins. They were pin, homespun garments, but to Emily, they looked like the finest silks. She ducked behind a hanging curtain Octavia indicated, gratefully pulling the rough fabric over her skin. The fit wasn't perfect—the tunic was a bit loose across the shoulders and the moccasins squished her toes—but she felt immeasurably better. Human again.

  Emily emerged to find a bowl of stew waiting. She sat down opposite Mara and Octavia, inhaling the savory aroma. It was delicious—hearty chunks of fish and root vegetables seasoned with herbs Emily didn't recognize.

  "Eat up," Mara insisted, her sharp blue eyes softening slightly as Emily took the first spoonful. It was delicious. "Restore your strength. Pulling my girl from a whirlpool like that... that takes something fierce, girl. More than just strong arms. The currents out there today... they'd pull down seasoned fishermen."

  Emily swallowed a mouthful of stew, feeling the warmth spread through her. "I just reacted, I guess," she mumbled.

  "Her reaction saved my life, Mama!" Octavia piped up. She looked at Emily with wide, appreciative eyes.

  "That it did, ssie," Mara replied. "It was an act of providence for you to find your way to our shore when you did. Where do your travels bring you from, Emily?"

  "Oh, uh, innd," Emily said quickly, trying to sound casual. It seemed wise not to mention Paja Abbey in this company, and she had no desire to attempt an expnation of where she really came from. "Quite a ways," she continued, not untruthfully. "I'm... well, I'm a traveling schor. Studying local histories, coastal communities, that sort of thing." She took another quick spoonful of stew, hoping it sounded convincing. "I've heard so many legends about the Azure Coast, that I just had to see the pce for myself."

  Mara took a slow sip from her spoon, her gaze distant for a moment before returning to Emily. "Providence aside, it's a bad time for traveling this way. The sea's been wrong ever since the ground shook yesterday. Old Man Tiberon lost half his crab pots yesterday—lines snapped clean, not frayed like on rocks. Just gone."

  "I suppose that's why you wanted me to say home," Octavia said bashfully.

  "Aye," Mara replied, casting her daughter a stern look. "This is no weather for fishing. Nets aren't just empty, they're tangled with strange, deep-water weeds we've never seen this close to shore. Fish acting skittish, staying deep when they should be running shallow. Crabs shedding out of season. Started right after the tremors."

  It all lined up with what Caelum had said about the currents. The loss of the Azure Essence wasn't just an Abbey problem; its effects were rippling outwards, disrupting the lives of ordinary people who depended on the sea. She had to get it back from Richard, and not only for the ritual. The Azure Sphere had to be restored.

  A thought niggled at her. Would taking a vial of the Azure Essence cause some small but permanent disruption? Surely Althea would not have encouraged her to do something like that.

  "It's the monks!" Octavia decred fiercely, smming her spoon down. "Always meddling! Thinking they own the Azure Sphere, own the sea itself! They built that silly dome, told everyone it was for protection, for stability, and look what happens! They let the Sphere get stolen, or broken, or whatever happened, and now the sea's gone mad! Some guardians!"

  Mara shot her daughter a look—not disagreement, but perhaps a caution against such open hostility in front of a stranger. "The monks have a deep and abiding respect for the Azure Essence." She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice. "That Sphere, Emily... it was calming these waters long before the first stone of their Abbey tower was id. They built around it, not the other way around. Remember that, schor."

  The way Mara emphasized the word 'schor' made Emily shift uncomfortably on her stool.

  "They act like the coast belongs to them because they built some fancy buildings on it," Octavia said, looking into her stew bowl. "They charge us mooring fees if we get too close to 'their' cliffs, warn us away from the best fishing spots because their wards need space... and for what? What's the use if they can't even keep the Sphere safe?"

  Mara sighed deeply. "That is an interesting piece of jewelry," she said to Emily, her gaze flicking briefly to the subtle bulge of the Stoneshell beneath the borrowed tunic.

  Emily felt her cheeks warm. "Uh, family heirloom," she stammered, quickly taking another rge bite of stew. She hoped that Mara did not have the same familiarity with the Stoneshell that monks and merfolk seemed to.

  Mara nodded slowly. "Well," she said, her tone becoming brisk again, "you saved my daughter. That's what matters today. Finish your stew. You need your strength, especially if you're heading back out into... whatever's going on out there."

  Emily suddenly remembered Dorian. How long had she been gone? The sun must have moved significantly. She gnced towards the smoke hole in the roof, trying to gauge the time. Sunset felt closer than she liked.

  "Thank you so much for the meal, Mara, and Octavia, for the clothes," Emily said, standing up quickly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "It was wonderful, truly, but I really must be going. I have... someone waiting for me."

  Octavia looked disappointed. "So soon? But you just got here!"

  "Duty calls," Mara said, giving Emily an understanding nod that seemed to hold more weight than the simple words implied. "You helped my daughter. Go where you need to go." She paused, picking up a small, dense oatcake from a pte near the hearth and wrapping it quickly in a piece of cloth. "Take this, for the path." She pressed it into Emily's hand, then added quietly, her eyes holding Emily's for a beat longer than necessary, "But be careful out there, girl. Especially if you're heading back towards that way." She gave a subtle, almost imperceptible nod in the direction of the cliffs leading back towards the Abbey and the cove.

  Emily nodded, accepting the oatcake and the warning. "Thank you, Mara. I will be."

  She gave Octavia a quick hug. "Thanks again. For everything."

  "You're welcome anytime, Emily! Come back if you can!"

  Stepping out of the hut and back into the bright sunlight felt jarring. The vilge seemed unchanged, with vilgers milling about and fisherfolk mending nets. The sun hung in the center of the sky, but would soon begin its descent. Sunset was still hours away, but she didn't feel ready to face Richard.

  Waving a final goodbye to Octavia and Mara, Emily hurried back towards the path leading to the headnd and the secluded cove beyond.

  She was clothed and fed, but Dorian would be wondering where she had gotten to. She considered teleporting as soon as she was out of sight of the vilge, but the luxurious feeling of fabric against her skin stopped her. It would be an insult to Octavia and Mara to burn her clothes immediately after receiving them.

  No, she would take the long route.

  Emily left the vilge, drawing far less attention than she had on her way in, and began picking her way back along the path by the cliffs. But before long, she was surprised by a tap on the shoulder. She turned to see Mara.

  "I know magical artifacts when I see them," Mara said, looking pointedly at the spot in Emily's borrowed tunic where the Stoneshell y. "You're not just a traveling schor, are you?"

  Emily blushed and stammered, but Mara quickly put a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. "I didn't want to say anything in front of Octavia. She's taken quite a dislike to the monks and anything magical, as I'm sure you've noticed. The prejudices of youth can be very spirited."

  "Th-thank you," said Emily.

  Mara winked. "I mean no insult, my dear, but I didn't believe for a second that you could have pulled my daughter from a shipwreck in a whirlpool without the help of magic. I am still very grateful, of course. And I don't want anything further from you, not for me anyhow. I just wanted to ask you something. About the Azure Sphere."

  "W-why would you...?"

  Mara's expression hardened. "I have an inkling that you're involved in all this somehow. From your actions so far, I believe you're on the side of good. I hope that you can restore our Azure Sphere. And it is ours. The monks and their abbey may be its current custodians, but it is far older than them and will outst them. Please, restore it to its rightful position. The Sphere is resilient. Even if much of its mass is missing, it will flourish and grow when returned to its right pce."

  Emily nodded. This seemed like enough for Mara, who bowed deeply and turned back to her vilge.

  Emily munched on the oatcake as she continued on her way. She felt reassured about her mission by Mara's words. As long as some part of the Essence was restored to the abbey, it would 'flourish and grow.' That meant she would be able to take a small vial of it without upsetting the delicate bance of nature.

  The secluded cove was just as she'd left it, but for the presence of the blond merman, who y basking at the water's edge, his human half lying in the soft sand while the tide pped at his tail.

  Caelum was rexed, but not too rexed to notice a human interloper. A wry expression crossed his features as he caught Emily's eye. "Emily!" he called. "You look very different today!"

  "Hello Caelum," she replied, her cheeks reddening slightly as she approached the waterline. "How was your hunt?"

  Caelum's face fell. "Pickings are sparse and the ocean is angry. I cannot stay here much longer. Destiny awaits me in the Kingdom of Nauticus."

  "So you came to say goodbye?"

  Caelum was silent for a time, his gaze fixed on her face, searching. "Seeing you again, Emily... it felt like finding an anchor in a storm," he said softly. "The Stoneshell... it is a symbol of the hope I carry, a hope for what could be, for Mer, for..." He trailed off, perhaps unsure how to voice the connection he felt.

  "But your path is clear," he continued, his voice tinged with regret. "This ritual demands your focus, your strength, here and now. And my own path, the one I must walk to challenge Trito and seek allies in Nauticus... it leads away from this shore."

  He looked down at their joined hands, then back up at her, his blue eyes full of unspoken feelings. "Perhaps the legends spoke only of alliance, not of shared journeys from the start. I cannot ask you to turn from your duty. Nor can I stay."

  He raised her hand slowly to his lips, his gaze holding hers. "Know this, Emily Stoneshell Bearer," he whispered, the sound almost lost in the waves. "While I seek my allies, while I fight my battles beneath the waves, I will be listening for news of you. And I will hope... hope that the currents bring us together again when both our immediate quests are done."

  He released her hand reluctantly. "Be safe. Be strong."

  With a st, intense look, he slipped back into the sea. Emily saw a single spsh of his tail, and then he was gone. The sea-salt tang of his kiss lingered on her hand, and she stared out at the ocean for a time, not knowing if she would ever see Caelum again.