Chapter Ten
Skylar Cathal
“You don’t have to go alone,” Fjorda said for probably the tenth time since I shared my plan. “The Opal can easily dock—”
“No,” I answered in a firm tone. “I will go ashore alone. I don’t want to risk your crew’s safety.”
Fjorda crossed his arms with a firm scowl.
“Frown all you want. It’s not going to make me change my mind,” I said.
“Stubborn shifter,” he seethed.
“One of our best traits,” I replied with a playful wink, strapping my bow across my chest and shouldering my small bag of belongings. The letter from Daxton was tucked against the bindings on my chest, safe for the moment, even though I hadn’t dared open and read it yet.
I decided to don my uniform from Silver Meadows: black fitted leathers with silver threaded trim, proudly displaying the single mountain peak on my shoulder. The armor of Aegis, however, I kept hidden safely in my bag, deciding not to reveal every tool in my arsenal if I could help it.
“Where will you wait?” I asked, approaching the railing.
“We’ll remain close. Perhaps wander along the open seas to the northern tip of the mainland, but no farther should you need us in a hurry.”
“And when I need you?”
“Your mark is still viable.” Fjorda pointed to my palm. “The Opal will heed your call, just like before.”
“Thank you,” I answered as I swung myself over the railing, ready to scale the rope ladder to the small rowboat below.
“Was there doubt the magic would still work?” Fjorda challenged with a cocked brow.
“I thought it was just a one-time gift. Glad to know I can still use it.”
“It will work as long as I grant you the mark,” Fjorda said.
I thanked him once more before beginning my descent, settling onto the wooden bench and grasping the oars in each hand to carry me ashore.
“Hurry, Champion,” Fjorda called out as I began my trek through the waters toward my homeland.
I gave him a nod in return as the sails of the ship opened and carried the magnificent white vessel away from the coastline.
I fell into a gentle rhythm with the strokes of my oars, little by little, carrying me to the green sand beach. The beach that Daxton had dreamt about, and I had called my sanctuary from the chaos of the world around me.
My own personal haven, just like the hanging valley in Silver Meadows was Daxton’s.
With one final pull of my oars, I managed to catch a wave and glide easily onto the shoreline. My boat skidded into the sand with the sun hanging low against the western cliffs used by countless young ones to test their animal spirits.
The cooler winter temperatures were beginning to grip the land.
The evening air held a crispness to it that differed from the long, warm months of summer.
The snow would never settle in Solace itself, but the tops of the mountains to the north and east would hold white patches of snow on their peaks until spring and summer.
I steadied myself with my hands braced on either side as I stood and leaped out of the rowboat.
As soon as my feet hit the green sand, I felt alive. This beach always held a special place in my heart because, like me, it was different.
I bent to grasp a handful of the olivine grains and stood straight, taking a deep breath. Releasing my grip, I watched the grains trickle back to the earth. Each particle of sand fell like moments in time, causing me to reflect on the events that had happened since I last set foot in my homeland.
“I don’t know if anyone is listening, or even if you can hear me,” I said aloud to no one, to everyone. “I promise I will not give up. I may not win, but I swear I’ll never give up.”
The wilt hadn’t destroyed this section of the shoreline yet, but soon, it would.
Glancing up, I noticed plumes of smoke rising from the direction of Solace. My heart jumped into my throat, and I took off at a run toward the cliffs, racing into unknown dangers that could be threatening my home and my family.