Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth by - (best books to read for self development TXT) 📕

the ocean floor in the myths of the swirling water tornado. The goddess reached down and plucked a seashell off of the sandy bottom. She held it to her lips, and wisps of blue magic moved from her to the seashell. When she was done, she offered it to Surcy.

Surcy crawled across the ground, took the seashell, and looked at the goddess in confusion.

“It will reveal its secrets to you, but be ready to act when it does.”

Tears stung her eyes for reasons she couldn’t explain. “Thank you.”

The goddess smiled. “Hold your breath.”

“My breath?”

The tornado of water came crashing down on her. She had a moment of panic as she was tumbled through the water at an impossible speed, and then she was dumped out onto the beach.

Breathing hard, she opened her hand and stared down at the shell.

Tristan was beside her in an instant. “Where were you?” He roared. “I couldn’t find you!”

She looked up at him. “The goddess gave me a gift.”

“A gift?”

She held out the shell.

He frowned. “You risked your life for that?”

She climbed to her feet, legs shaking, and hurried to Daniel’s side. “It’ll tell us how to find Mark, but first, we need to take Daniel home.”

Tristan said nothing, but he took Daniel’s limp hand, and then hers. They teleported, the world shimmering around them. When they arrived at their home, Tristan carried Daniel to his bed, while Surcy stripped off her sandy, wet clothes, changed, and pulled on new boots.

By the time she returned to the living room, Tristan was already waiting.

“Ready?”

He nodded.

Lifting the shell to her ear, she closed her eyes and waited.

Nothing happened.

She shook the shell, listened again, and still, nothing happened.

“It’s not working.”

Tristan frowned. “Mermaid gifts are never simple.”

She stared at the shell in her hand. “What can we do?”

He exhaled noisily, sounding annoyed. “I have an idea.”

9

Surcy and Tristan stood at the front of the small sailing boat that he had procured. She didn’t know where it came from, but she didn’t care. Mark’s life was at stake.

Tristan moved with certainty as he took them from the dock and sailed them out into the middle of the cove. There, he dropped anchor and went to stand at her side.

“Try listening to it now.”

“I tried the whole way,” she insisted, but she tried again.

Still nothing.

“Drop it in the sea.”

She whirled toward him. “If this doesn’t work, we’ve lost our only way of finding him.”

“Drop it,” he said, his tone unforgiving.

She felt sick as she stretched her hand out over the water. It took her a long second to open her fingers, but with a deep breath, she turned her hand over.

The shell dropped as if in slow motion, but when it hit the water, a wave boomed out. The waves rose, and suddenly, their ship was flying over the ocean like a child’s toy. She clung to the edge of the ship, but her fingers began to slip. Tristan was immediately there, pulling her against him, and holding onto the railing as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

The water struck them wildly, powerfully, and still, the gargoyle held her.

Time passed. Her face rested against his chest and she breathed in the earthy scent that belonged to the gargoyle. Her eyes closed. For a minute, with the water spinning around them and the boat soaring over the waves, she felt lost in a dream. In Tristan’s arms, nothing scared her. She felt safe and protected.

And this feels so natural.

How many times had his arms held her, times that she still didn’t remember? How many times had he protected her? He stayed with her, beside her, through each day, even though she couldn’t open up to him.

This big, strong man needed more from her. All three of her demons did. She’d thought she couldn’t give it to them when she wasn’t sure about their cause, the angels, or the true nature of demons. She had thought she couldn’t connect with them because she wasn’t sure who she was anymore, and because she didn’t remember her past.

But maybe, instead, she needed to focus on creating a new connection with them. New memories. New moments.

Lifting her head, she whispered his name.

He looked down at her. His dark hair was soaking wet. His skin glistened with water, and yet, his mismatched eyes latched onto hers as if there was nothing else in the world but them.

Reaching up, she touched his cheek. She wanted to kiss him, but she didn’t. She just clung to him and touched his face, memorizing every line.

“What do you ask of me?” he murmured, his voice barely audible above the rushing water.

“Just… just a chance to try again.”

His eyes widened, and very slowly, he nodded.

A slight smile teased his lips. “I would like that very much.”

When the waves calmed, they struck land. The ship pitched, and if it weren’t for Tristan’s strong grip, they would have gone flying into the water. Instead, they clung to each other, panting.

The ship righted itself. The waves calmed, and the ocean grew still around them.

They moved to the other side of the ship and stared at the little island. There was nothing on it except a lonely looking building made of dark stone.

“You think that’s where he is?”

Tristan nodded. “I think so.” Turning, she took a deep breath. It’s okay. You can handle this. “Will you fly us over to it?”

His gaze locked onto hers. “Are you sure? We can teleport.”

“I can handle it.” Lifting her hands, she wrapped them around his neck.

He transformed in an instant, his flesh turning to cold stone beneath her touch, and his stone wings sprouting from his back. When he lifted them into the air, she felt the wind on her face. Flashes of herself soaring through the air came to her, and she felt herself trembling. Memories came back, of her wings being torn from her back, of the wounds that ached for too long.

When they landed on the island, he put