by Lexi Rees
‘Why doesn’t the Air-Rider guardian have the relic?’ Aria asks.
‘Sir Waldred killed him.’
‘Oh no,’ Aria says, clutching at a chair to steady herself. ‘So why didn’t Sir Waldred steal the relic when he killed the guardian?’
‘The Guardian foresaw his own death and cast a powerful charm to protect it. You must follow the trail.’
‘Aria, you can find it,’ I blurt out. ‘The relic will call to you, like the pearl called to me.’
‘But I’m not twelve. I don’t have my full powers yet.’
‘You have enough,’ the elder says. ‘When you get close, the relic will make them much, much stronger. And what you lack in experience, you make up for in determination.’
‘I don’t even know where to start,’ she says.
‘With the journal?’ I suggest. ‘And I’ll help you. You won’t be on your own.’
‘You can’t leave,’ the thin elder says, grabbing my arm. ‘This place is yours.’ He gestures to the empty chair next to him. ‘You earned it.’
‘But I didn’t earn it,’ I protest.
‘You brought the pearl here,’ the thin elder adds.
‘Yes, but I didn’t do it on my own,’ I explain. ‘I had lots of help.’ I wave my arm in the direction of my family.
‘And now you must help us,’ the thin elder continues, his voice as sour as lemon juice. ‘You must fulfil your obligations to the clan.’
‘I can’t,’ I say, turning to Kallan, ‘I’m glad I found you, but you can’t expect me just to walk away from my family.’
‘You should listen to him,’ Dad says. ‘I know it’s hard, and there’s a lot to take in, but the clan is important. Everything that Kallan and Morgan sacrificed was for the good of the clan.’
‘There are other things that are important too. Like helping Aria. Like finding Morgan, before it’s too late. You said you’d help me do that.’
‘You need to decide what the right thing to do is, Finn. I can’t decide for you,’ Dad says.
The thin elder crosses his arms and glares at me.
I turn to the elders. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t stay here. I have to help my sister on her quest.’
‘Sea-Tamer, I had hoped for so much … more … from you,’ sneers the thin elder.
‘What could be more important than finding the relics?’ I ask.
‘You must be trained,’ he says. ‘You must return one day.’
The group starts to fade back into the darkness.
‘Wait,’ I cry. ‘Do you know where Morgan is?’
Kallan’s voice replies, although what remains of his body is a mere shimmer. ‘She also seeks the relics, but not for the clans. To give to Sir Waldred. You must find the relics before she does.’
With that, he dissolves entirely. We’re alone. My question is answered though; I now know, without a shadow of doubt, whose side Morgan is on, and it’s not ours. My heart sinks. I had hoped Sir Waldred was just trying to make me angry when he said Morgan worked for him, I had hoped it wasn’t true. Am I too late to save her?
Lying on the table, in front of where the bird-like elder sat just a few moments before, is something shiny. A symbol. Puffs of wind curl together into a familiar shape: it’s a hyrshu air-charm. I nudge Aria and point at it.
‘I told you it would find you,’ I say.
She picks it up and strokes it as if it was a kitten, drawn to it as I am to my pirrfu charm. ‘I really am an Air-Rider now,’ she murmurs.
‘You always were,’ I say. ‘You don’t need a charm to prove it.’
‘Thanks. So what now?’ Aria asks.
‘We have to find the relic before Morgan.’
‘But I don’t know where to start looking. They didn’t give us any directions,’ Aria says, clenching her fists.
‘The journal?’ I suggest. ‘What’s in it? Maybe there’s a clue.’
Aria opens it, her brows knit in concentration.
‘What does it say?’ I ask.
She reads aloud.
Where white eagles soar and no man can walk,
Above the clouds, yet still on the ground,
Lies the secret of which Air-people talk.
The winged girl must raise her clan around,
When the moon is cold and the stars point true,
For the time has come to start our world anew.
‘Well that’s not much of a clue is it,’ I say, shoving my hands into my pockets, dejected.
‘I think I understand it,’ Aria says. ‘Or at least some of it. The cold moon is the last full moon of the year. That’s very soon.’
‘And?’
‘We need to get to an observatory before then to look at the stars, like the verse says.’
‘There’s the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, but I don’t like the idea of going back to New London.’
‘I know where we can go,’ Pippin says. ‘Spitbank Fort. It’s an old army stronghold in the middle of the sea. It’s off the south coast of England. Not too far from Portsmouth.’
‘Why there?’ Aria asks.
‘Sir Waldred used it as a base, but it’s empty now. We won’t be seen … and there’s a massive telescope.’
‘Then that seems as good a place to start as any.’
THE END
Or is it just
the beginning?
Reviews
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Thanks very much.
Lexi
Acknowledgements
So many people have helped bring this from a few random ideas thrown about whilst sailing into a book, and I’m eternally grateful to you all.
Special thanks to Finlay, my son, for the constant support and encouragement, countless hours discussing the story, fight scenes (apparently I can’t write a fight scene for toffee) and many of the illustrations. And to my husband for understanding, especially while I spent months in my editing cave.
I’m very lucky to have a fab team of beta readers. I’d particularly like to thank Theo, Raffi, and Lucy for the detailed feedback. Everything you suggested should be in here because it was all useful.
I couldn’t have got to this stage without my patient, and picky, editors; Brian Keaney, Gary Smailes and Emma Mitchell. I’ve learnt so much from each of you during the journey, and look forward to working with you all again.
Author buddies, your encouragement, advice and support has been invaluable through the emotional roller-coaster of taking a first draft right the way to publication. Too many to mention you all, but you know who you are.
And finally, I’m a member of several fantastic book clubs. I would happily recommend two on Facebook: The Fiction Cafe and The Book Club (TBC).
Thanks again,
Lexi
About the Author
Lexi Rees was born in Edinburgh and grew up in the Scottish Highlands. She now splits her time between London and Chichester, but still goes back to Scotland regularly.
She sails and rides horses, both of which she does spectacularly badly.
Eternal Seas was written whilst cruising in the Mediterranean; the storm described in the book was frighteningly real.
Concentrating on not falling off makes writing tricky whilst horse riding. It is definitely not recommended.
Resources
There are additional materials on the website, www.lexirees.co.uk.
Get in touch
If yo
u have any questions, you can contact Lexi via the website (www.lexirees.co.uk) or social media.
Happy reading!
