Tides of Torment (Immortal Realms Book 2)
Tides of Torment: Chapter 21

Travion swore a string of curses as he bolted to his feet and stared down at the map. He jammed his fingers through his hair and growled. “You’ve got to be jesting. We’ve traveled this far—for what?”

It was Finn who piped in next. “We’ve found Taimon, and that alone makes it worth it. If we’d never found him, and his body wasted away on the shores of Sahille, we’d never have our justice. We would have been twiddling our thumbs and waiting.”

While that was true, it didn’t inspire any warm, cozy feelings inside of Travion. They were so damn far from Midniva, and trouble was hurtling its way closer and closer to home.

Without looking up from the map, Sereia spoke. “Adrik, Yon, we need to get back to The Saorsa.” She frowned, fingers tightening around the paper.

Adrik sighed, shaking his head. “This was by far the strangest shore leave we’ve ever had.”

Travion chuckled despite the circumstances. It wasn’t easy on the weary crew, chasing around an invisible foe who was always one or two steps ahead of them. Yet, he knew it could’ve been worse, and that worse was just on the horizon.

“But have you ever had so much fun before?” Travion glanced at Adrik and offered a small grin. Dangerous, exhilarating, and tiresome, but he had to admit that a part of him was enjoying this. Out on the sea, with Sereia and free of the crown. But it was a sobering feeling too, knowing how many had died in the process.

“I suppose you’ve got me there,” Adrik admitted.

“Let’s head out now, then.” Travion kicked sand over the dying fire. Smoke billowed from the hissing embers. “Time is of the essence, and who knows what the sea has prepared for us.”

Back on the ship, the rest of Speedwell’s crew whispered among themselves, but Travion was no fool. He heard every word and knew they were atwitter about Taimon still. They’d heard his pleas for mercy, but none aboard the king’s ship would grant it.

Travion slipped into the captain’s quarters, knowing he had to warn Kian of what was barreling his way. He poured water into the basin, pricked his finger, and watched as the blood swirled around until his reflection rippled. When it cleared, Kian’s face appeared.

“Kian, I wish I was calling with better news,” he said gruffly.

“And break tradition?” Kian sighed. “What is happening?”

Travion loosed a breath. “Where do I begin?” He clenched his teeth, feeling as though they were on the verge of snapping. “Taimon is a traitor and is in league with whoever is racing back to Midniva as we speak.”

Kian’s eyes narrowed, shock replaced his small smile, and then a fury Travion felt erupted on his features. “The bastard—he was in on every meeting. He had all of our information regarding strategics—everything!”

“Don’t I know it. He is in the brig and will be brought to trial. But you must prepare Midniva for the worst. I fear the destruction out here is only child’s play and meant to distract us. With whomever it is fully focused on Midniva . . .” Travion paused and leaned on the table. “I am truly afraid for the kingdom.”

“Uncle, I will do everything I can to hold Midniva.” Kian waited, then pressed on. “How far out are you?”

Travion tapped his fingers against the table and hung his head. “Nine days. But if we push those with wind and water affinities . . . Five. But we’ll be ragged when we arrive.”

Kian grimaced. “Do what you must, but do it safely.”

“Be well, Kian.”

“And you, uncle.”

The water rippled once more, and this time, Kian’s face was gone. Staring back at Travion was a male who looked bone weary. And this last leg of the journey hadn’t even begun yet. They still needed to rejoin The Saorsa.

Wind, called on by Travion, blew into the sails, pushing the Speedwell into open sea. Aided by the upheaval of the water, courtesy of Sereia, they were able to make exceptional time back to Saventi’s port.

In the brig, Travion studied Taimon’s sleeping form. Blood caked the side of his head, darkening his red hair. Again, the big question of why popped into Travion’s mind. Why betray him? What had Taimon been promised that was more than the life Travion had given? He frowned, but his attention was soon drawn toward the stairs.

Sereia descended a moment later and crossed the distance between them. “I’m heading back onto my ship.”

“I’ll be staying on the Speedwell with this bastard.” Travion motioned to the half-fae and shook his head.

Sereia pressed her lips together, sighing. “Fine.”

He quirked a brow. “Fine?”

“I won’t lie, I’m not keen on separating at this point.” Her gaze settled on Taimon, and she folded her arms across her chest. “But I understand why.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek and turned on her heel. “Just promise me one thing?”

“And what is that?” His curiosity was piqued. A promise between them could mean a thousand things, and few likely anything good. More of an order under the guise of a promise.

“Don’t kill him without me. I want to be there when the life fades from his eyes.” With that said, she retreated up the stairs and left him with Taimon, who’d roused just in time to hear that last part.

“I can promise you that!” he called to her, and Travion knelt so that he was eye level with the other male. “For your death will be a public display.”

Travion leaned on the rail of the Speedwell, squinting as the wind whipped his hair into his eyes. Sea spray coated his bare arms, and salt peppered his lips. Being in the open water was like being home to him. The wild and free ocean soothed the deepest, darkest parts of his being.

Two days had passed since setting sail from Saventi’s port, and they were still too far out from Midniva to be of any service.

Finn huffed as he leaned over the side, staring down at the churned-up waves. “Have you called to your nephew yet?”

Travion grimaced. “Before we left.”

“The prince is more than capable, and with the warning, they’re ahead of the book wielder,” Finn carefully said, clearing his throat as Travion glowered at him.

He wasn’t wrong.

Travion pushed away from the rail, intending to venture into the captain’s quarters, but the shrill whistle of Velox stopped him in his tracks. His beast cried out again, racing along the side of the ship until Travion peered down and their eyes met.

“Velox?”

Sharks. Large ones.

“By the sea . . . Velox, hide. Keep you and your pod safe. Go!” Travion shoved away from the rail. “Finn, have them fly the warning flag. We need to pull up beside The Saorsa.” At that moment, he longed for the ability to teleport or speak to Sereia’s mind. Instead, she was a sitting duck on the open water.

Finn’s brow furrowed. “We’re going too fast.”

Travion dragged a hand down his face, sighing. “Then I suppose we’ll have to slow down, won’t we?”

Without another word, Finn rushed away, barking orders. Soon, the bright yellow flag with a navy dot in the middle was raised. It flapped wildly in the wind, and he was glad for that, because the brightly colored fabric caught someone’s eye quickly. Adrik—Sereia? Likely Yon. All that mattered was that they were slowing their speed and circling back.

It took longer than Travion would have liked for The Saorsa and Speedwell to line up. Every moment that passed by was precious time they couldn’t afford. But when the ships were side by side, he and Finn worked to secure the plank in place.

Sereia leaped onto the wooden structure and eased across the way. Her brow furrowed in confusion and in an underlying worry. It was there in the pinched way she held her lips and how her shoulders remained scrunched up.

“What is it?” She glanced around, then homed in on his eyes. Whatever she saw in the depths of his gaze was enough to suck the breath from her. “By the sea! What are we in for?”

“Velox warned of two monstrous sharks.” Travion dragged a hand down his face. The land was a dangerous place, with creatures looming in the shadows, waiting to prey on their victims. But the sea? The sea was minacious and unforgiving. Each crevice more unknown than the next.

Sereia whipped her head to the side, glowering at the surface of the water. “Of course there is. We cannot handle a frenzy of them. Our best bet is to go around—”

“No,” he bit out, gnashing his teeth together. “As much as I’d prefer that to these abominations . . . if we go around, we’ll end up going through the portal to Torskvala.” Travion’s lips thinned, and he shook his head. “We don’t want to involve them.”

At the mention of Torskvala, Sereia swore under her breath. Even she wasn’t willing to risk involving the barbarians of the north.

“Then we brace ourselves for what lies ahead.”

Travion nodded. “That is all we can do.” He paused, then closed the distance between them, grabbing her by the elbows. “Don’t be foolish. Do you hear me?”

Sereia’s features softened, and she grabbed his chin, squeezing. “Me? It’s you that shouldn’t do anything foolish. If the opportunity arises, don’t throw away your life so willingly. Understand me?” Her tone held an edge. One Travion knew came from the unease brewing within her, and from knowing he had a penchant for throwing himself into the fray.

He leaned forward, his forehead pressing against hers. “I will do my best to fight those urges.” Travion pressed his lips to hers, tasting their salty warmth. “Prepare yourselves for battle.”

She stepped onto the plank, casting him a mischievous glance. “Oh, I’m always ready for battle.”

That was a fact Travion knew well. He shook his head, chuckling, and when she crossed the gangway to The Saorsa, he and Finn removed the wooden structure.

There was hardly any wind beating against the sails. Normally, Travion would take it to be a calm day out at sea, but it was the quiet before the storm. Not a single cloud marred the blue sky, and the warmth of the sun was welcomed. But as The Saorsa pulled away from the Speedwell, bigger waves formed, then growing, forcing Finn to slam into Travion. He rooted himself and shook his head. “We’re sitting ducks here. Let’s move, and ready the harpoons.”

The crew shot into action, setting the Speedwell into motion once more, and The Saorsa led the way. If they could outpace the sharks . . .

Unfortunately, that thought was dashed as soon as one of the enormous sharks breached. A gray head emerged from the water, two rows of knife-sharp teeth gleaming in the light. It was as Velox said: the sharks were as large as the ships. If it fell on deck . . .

By the sea.

That couldn’t happen.