In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens (best business books of all time txt) 📗

and alleys of the city were shadowed, and Tal’s hackles raised. Maybe he should’ve allowed Shay to walk with him. Except she believed he couldn’t take care of himself. The thought burned in his gullet.

He was magic. He had the same power of his great-grandfather thumping through his veins. He could raze cities and pull down kingdoms, grind them to dust under his boot heel. He could defend himself if someone decided to attack him, and he wouldn’t leave the attacker alive to tell the tale that the youngest son of Queen Carys did indeed have the same magic that had set the world to siege.

Tal made it two steps before a cool hand stole over his mouth and yanked him backward into the shadows.

He let out a muffled shout and struggled against the strong hands that held him. He had every intention of biting down on the fleshy part of the palm that was clapped over his mouth, until a soft voice tickled his ear.

“It’s only me, my prince.”

Tal ceased his struggle. Unwittingly he relaxed back into the hold.

Athlen released him.

“Shush,” he said, “come with me.” He picked his way across the street, sticking to darkened spaces, and beckoned Tal to follow. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

Tal’s earlier anger melted into curiosity.

“Everything?” he whispered as he followed Athlen into the shadows.

“Yes.”

The colors of twilight played over Athlen’s pale skin as he moved. He was ethereal, and for a moment Tal thought he looked as if he didn’t belong on land at all and was a creature from the sea, more used to undulating in the waves and currents than slapping bare feet on the paving stones. Then Athlen smiled, his cheeks dimpling, his brown eyes shining, and Tal couldn’t conjure poetic metaphors anymore. He could only feel the thump of his heartbeat and a fluttering in his middle that was not befitting a prince.

They took a meandering path through the city, sticking to clumps of shadows and dark alleys. Tal felt like he was in one of the court fairy tales, where the curious children are led away by nymphs and fairies to other worlds, never to be heard from again. He realized he couldn’t hear the familiar rhythm of Shay’s footsteps behind him, but he wasn’t afraid. How could he be afraid of a boy who pleaded to be freed from an iron chain? Who didn’t know the difference in value between a pearl and sea glass?

Tal followed Athlen toward the docks, his boot heels making hollow thumps on the wooden planks, loud in the otherwise stillness. Anchored to the shore, the docks stretched over the sand until they jutted into the water. Halfway to the rows of moored ships, Athlen hopped off the ledge into the sand. Tal paused, admiring the view of the ships underneath the twinkle of starlight, and took a deep breath of cool, salty air. The taut pull of his shoulders loosened as the stress from the town melted away in the peace of the shore.

The sound of the sea rolling against the beach filled Tal’s head, as did the song Athlen hummed beneath his breath as he strolled farther away. He walked aimlessly, wandering along the line of the surf, foam spraying over his ankles, darkening his trousers to his knees. Athlen noticed Tal had not followed, and he stopped in the ebbing water, hands in his pockets, face tipped toward the sky.

“Tal,” he called as he held out his hand, palm up and open, not taking his gaze from the stars, “come on.”

A shiver of promise in the timbre of Athlen’s voice gripped Tal. He had been so angry only scant minutes before, but the fire of his temper was banked, and now his blood pulsed with a different warmth. Tal sat down on the edge of the dock and pulled off his boots and socks and left them there. He jumped down, the cold, wet surf a shock to the bottoms of his feet, his toes sinking in the coarse mix of sand and shells.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere private where we can trade confidences,” Athlen said, a tilt to his lips. “But only if you want to.”

Tal crossed the distance between them quickly in answer and barely resisted the urge to grab Athlen’s hand so as not to be left behind in the liminal space.

Tal couldn’t fathom where they were going as they meandered away from the port, jumping across tidal pools and sidestepping sharp rocks as the water seeped into the higher ground. Tal’s feet would be tender the following day, and he worried he might be trapped by the incoming tide later, but he dared not stop following.

They finally paused at the mouth of a small cave. Tal turned to look toward the town and could still see the masts of the ships in the distance under the light of the waxing moon, but they were far off, bobbing gently against the backdrop of the night sky.

“Almost there,” Athlen said. He touched Tal’s sleeve, and Tal turned his back on the ships and ducked beneath the low-hanging rock.

As Tal emerged on the other side, his breath caught. A small amount of light poured through a hole in the ceiling of the cave, sparkling along the rocks and illuminating a calm pool of water. A shelf ran along the edge, large enough for Tal to walk. Gold, jewels, and ocean glass glittered along the path.

“Don’t mind the mess,” Athlen said with a grin. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

“This is where you live?”

Athlen shrugged. “When I’m not with Dara or held prisoner by bad men.”

“How long have you been here?”

“A few years.”

Athlen sat on the shelf and dipped his feet into the pool. He patted the smooth space beside him, and Tal followed suit. The moon rippled across the water, and small fish inspected Tal’s toes before darting away.

Squinting, Athlen leaned in close and poked Tal’s cheek. “What happened?”

Tal barely controlled his flinch. “Nothing. Just a scratch.” He