Chapter 27

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It was not as easy as it seemed, getting out of ball gowns. Even after wearing them for so many years, Darcy still struggled with the buttons and laces after dances and parties. Harper helped her if the girl was available, but Darcy refused to let a maid assist her. The questions her scars would raise were far too compromising.

Tonight's dance had been unusually dull. Her fiance, Nickoli, hadn't been there, and Ely had been in a sour mood all night. The man didn't know how to ease up. She supposed she couldn't blame him for that.

The tap of fingernails on glass made her pause as she pulled pins out of her hair. Throwing on a robe over her slip, she pulled back the curtain and unlatched the window, pushing it open to let the humid night air inside.

Nickoli--Nick to those who knew him well--was crouched on the ledge to the left of the sill, dressed in dark colors and a full mask that he'd pulled down to expose his face. He was handsome enough, built well and endowed with gentle eyes, skin that'd been darkened to a deep tan by the time he spent in the sun, and messy brown hair. She'd have cared more if they actually planned to go through with the marriage; they'd made an agreement years ago to break things off when he came of age so he could pursue a career in the study of sea life, and she could choose her husband freely.

"Evening, m'lady," he said with a grin and a dip of his head. "Care to let a poor traveler inside for a moment?"

Snorting, Darcy opened the window wider to let him slip past. "Where were you tonight? The party was a bloody drag."

Nick winced. "Obligatory family dinner. Sorry. Would this lift your spirits?" Reaching in his pocket, he took something out, cradling it as if it'd shatter. Inside the cloth he'd wrapped around it sat a stone the size of his palm, a faint spiral etched in the top. When he prodded it with his fingertip, it uncoiled into a spring-like mass of suckers and two beady black eyes, then curled into itself again. Nick wrapped it in its cloth and put it gently back in his pocket. "A banded sandworm. They can live out of water for a few hours at a time. I think it's so they can relocate to new tidepools if things get overcompetitive."

Shaking her head with a smile, Darcy untied her robe and stepped behind her dressing screen to change into her nightclothes. "I think you're the only man I know over the age of twenty-one who still keeps creatures in his pockets."

That earned a sheepish laugh from Nick. "Just a habit. I'll have cases for them, one of these days." Darcy heard him walk back to the window. "Jack's in town. Said he needs to talk to you."

Darcy pulled her nightgown over her head, eyebrows drawing together. He'd been gone for almost two months. Whatever story he had had to be important. "When?"

"Tonight, if you can, but he'll be around tomorrow night as well."

"Thank you. I'll be sure to make time for it."

"Of course. Let me know how things go with that bodyguard of yours, yeah? He seems to be settling in pretty well now."

Darcy smiled to herself. "He's getting there. Goodnight, Nick. Don't keep the sandworm away from the water too long."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Nick's parting grin shone in the candlelight. "Night."

***

There were few places on land that Jack enjoyed more than the top of Dreail's temple. They'd constructed a large chamber that was used for rituals concerning the tides, empty save for the swirling artwork on the domed walls and the crystalline windows crafted in the likeness of sea life. It looked a great deal like the ocean when light was cast through it by the moon or sun: ethereal, with all the shades of blue paint and shimmering glass.

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