Enchantment of Silver and Sea (The Council of Cyllene #1)

CHAPTER ONE

I woke gasping for air, my heart pounding, smothered in a sickly sweat.

Leaping out of bed, I landed on legs that felt unsteady, as if they weren’t a part of me anymore. I ran to the balcony door, flinging it open and dropping to a seated position, calling on my five senses to bring me back to the present.

I forced myself to see the city below me, the dark silhouettes of buildings against the muted purple of the morning sky.

I breathed in the sweet smell of baking bread drifting from above me and knew Brielle was awake one story up.

I tuned in to the mournful song of the doves, cooing from their perches on the edges of windowsills and gutters.

My mouth, I forced myself to observe, was filled with the sour flavor that lingered each time I woke from a nightmare.

And I felt the cool morning breeze ruffling my hair.

The rough concrete beneath me. The uncomfortable cling of my sweat-drenched nightgown.

Slowly but surely, my galloping heart slowed. The vice grip on my lungs loosened, allowing them to expand.

At this point, I had calming my post-nightmare panic down to a science. And even just knowing this—that I had a plan each time, that I was in control—aided in bringing me back.

It hadn’t always been that way. Countless times, I had awoken in throat-constricting terror, certain I was dying. But after so many years, I suppose I had become as used to it as a person could get. Now I could even pinpoint what triggered the dream each time.

In this instance, it was the woman at the living quarters’ market the previous evening.

That confident gleam in her emerald eyes as she made her friends roar with laughter.

The way they looked at her like it was both a joy and an honor to be in her presence.

The way she swaggered from aisle to aisle with her chocolate-brown ponytail swishing behind her, plucking items off the shelves and adding them to her basket, while they trailed behind, hanging on her every word.

She was just like Irene.

And I suppose in some respects, like me. Even though my green eyes also contained a hint of blue, and my figure was more petite than Irene’s, my dark hair and heart-shaped face had only grown to look more like her as I aged.

Now, here I was. Twenty. The same age she was when she died.

I continued inhaling deeply. In through the nose for ten seconds. Out through the mouth for ten seconds.

In. Out. In. Out.

Exhaling all thoughts of Irene.

I stood carefully, feeling the blood flow return to my legs as I shifted on my feet.

I stretched my arms overhead and released another cleansing breath.

The sky was fading from that deep purple to a softer periwinkle.

The rest of the living quarters would enjoy a few more hours of sleep before we were expected to report for work assignments.

But knowing Brielle was up and about in her kitchen was a small comfort.

After one more moment to steady myself, I turned to go inside.

Then spun back around.

I scanned the city again, but this time with more intent.

What was this feeling? It had nothing to do with the nightmare or the panic that was still seeping out of my veins. It was more…an awareness. But of what?

Finding nothing out of the ordinary, I headed back into my apartment. But I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

That skin-prickling feeling stayed with me as I tossed and turned for the next two hours, my pulse still hammering a staccato that ensured sleep would not find me.

It stayed with me as I finally flung off the clammy sheets and readied for my work assignment.

And it was still with me, making my scalp tingle, as I met Brielle outside my apartment to walk to the Knowledge Center.

“For you!” Brielle said with a flourish, presenting me with a neatly wrapped package as we walked down the carpeted hallway.

We strolled across the seventh floor, sidestepping copies of The Cyllene Sentinel that had been deposited outside our doors before sunup, until the hall of identical white doors became the open atrium that was the most impressive feature of our living quarters.

Massive windows spanned all ten floors, flooding the space with light.

Beyond the glass, the city streets had already begun to fill with a steady stream of people.

Brielle’s honey-colored hair was tied back in her usual loose braid, her hazel eyes bright. My own hair was braided similarly, but I had always thought the style looked prettier on her.

I took the package, knowing without even opening it that it was a loaf of the banana bread I had smelled earlier. “You’re the best!”

It was true—there was no beating Brielle’s cooking and baking.

This was due in large part to her training in the Culinary Preservation department, but it also didn’t hurt that her work assignment afforded her access to rare and exotic ingredients.

I knew from my own work in the Library that there was a time when bananas could be found in every market.

But thanks to The Awakening, they were now a luxury.

“I could smell this when I was out on the balcony earlier,” I said, taking another whiff.

“I thought I heard you out there.” Brielle took her own loaf out of her knapsack, tore off a piece, and popped it in her mouth. “You should have Maintenance do something about that creaky door. Anyway, I almost popped my head out to say hello.”

I wasn’t sure she meant that. But I played along. “You should have.”

“Maybe I will next time.”

“If you do, toss some banana bread over the railing.”

She giggled politely, and I chuckled along with her.

Brielle was, without question, the sweetest person that I knew. After six years of friendship, I was still amazed that she maintained such kindness. But I often found myself wondering if she understood just how hard life could be.

We never discussed incidents like what happened this morning. Times when she could hear me burst out onto the balcony before the sun was up, gasping for air as if I had been submerged underwater. Our interactions were lighthearted and surface level, and I preferred to keep them that way.

“Hey, Mai! Brie!” a familiar voice called from behind us.

We both turned to see Zander approaching. With his long stride, it was only a few moments before he fell into step with us.

I bit my lip. Something about the way Zander shortened my name had always irked me. I liked the name Maila well enough, but every time he called me Mai, I couldn’t help but think of the word “My” and feel like there was something too intimate in it.

And anyway, Zander lived on the tenth floor—what was he doing on the seventh? Was he purposely trying to run into us?

“How are you ladies doing today?” he asked.

Much like Brielle and her trademark braid, Zander’s appearance didn’t change much from day to day.

As an Enforcer, he was required to keep his sandy hair close-cropped and his face clean-shaven.

His navy-blue uniform was equally well-maintained, without so much as a stray thread, much less a wrinkle or a stain.

“We’re doing fine,” Brielle replied brightly. Her delicate skin had begun to turn a flattering shade of pink, like it always did when Zander was around. “How about you?”

“Great, now that I’m walking with the two of you,” he replied.

Even though he was only joking, a mockery of being smooth, it still had the desired effect.

Brielle’s blush deepened. “How about you?” he continued, giving me a playful nudge.

Since we were still in the living quarters, he was allowed to be a little more relaxed and informal.

“Can’t complain.” When my gaze drifted to his, our eyes locked.

I wasn’t thrilled to see him this morning. But I would also be lying if I said my cheeks didn’t heat a bit too when he stared a beat longer than he should have.

“It’s so nice outside,” Zander said after a moment. “Perfect weather.”

He wasn’t looking out the windows. His eyes were still fixed on me.

“I might take lunch on the deck,” he continued, a hopeful suggestion in his voice.

I turned to look at the approaching wave of people at the other end of the hall, getting ready to converge with us as we all headed down the central staircase. Maybe it was immature, but I pretended something there had caught my attention.

But thankfully for Zander, he still got a bite from Brielle.

“We take lunch there every day. You should join us.” Both her braid and ankle-length skirt bounced as she twisted to face him more fully. “Unless you’re having lunch with Trena.”

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her tell for when she was nervous.

“Oh, no. Definitely not.” Zander cleared his throat. “We went out a few times, and it was fun. But Trena and I are better off as friends.”

I could almost feel Brielle’s sigh of relief beside me.

“She’s an amazing woman, though,” he added enthusiastically.

Typical Zander. Even if Trena were the most disliked person in the Knowledge Center, he would never speak an ill word about her. Or anyone, for that matter.

“She is!” Brielle agreed. She and Zander continued to make small talk while we descended the staircase to the first floor.

The living quarters housed almost everyone whose work assignments were in the Knowledge Center, plus the Enforcers. Our apartments and other shared living spaces were located here, along with a small market that stocked essentials like nonperishable food, basic first aid items, and toiletries.

I had heard that prior to The Awakening, the building used to be a hotel. It was an interesting concept…a dwelling that you only lived in for a night or two at a time.