The only thing Otter had ever kept from his mother was the letter from his father he’d found in the siding of the house. He didn’t like keeping secrets from her, but now he had so many secrets. Should he tell her?

  He sighed. If he couldn’t trust his mother, who could he trust? “Varek Holloway is a bounty hunter. I met him the night of my birthday. My friends and I went to Aurelia proper to celebrate when he approached me. He was looking for Da.”

  Marla sucked in a breath. “Your father?”

  Otter nodded, watching his mother’s expression shift from surprise to something more guarded.

  “He called me Elias,” he continued. “Some tracker he used flagged me as a ‘likely match.’ When he realized I wasn’t the right person, he let me go.”

  They sat in silence for a moment before Otter continued. “Do you think he’s still alive?”

  Marla exhaled slowly. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you know? I get the feeling you haven’t told me everything.” There was no anger in his tone.

  “Not much. I don’t know the real reason your father left, but I know he thought it was important. And I know it wasn't sanctioned. At least not by the Adventurer’s Guild in Brighthaven.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “They came looking for him not long after he disappeared. A couple of officials. It was very formal. They weren't happy. I could tell that much. But they seemed satisfied that I didn't know where he’d gone.”

  Otter thought for a long few minutes. “He left me a letter. Da did. It said I would find answers at the Academy.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  The simple admission stunned him. “You—what?”

  “It’s a small house Otter. You didn't hide it very well.”

  “Why didn't you say anything?”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  He didn't have a good answer for that, so he let it pass. “The Academy has lots of secrets. I think maybe he discovered something he shouldn't have.”

  His mother’s gaze sharpened. “What kind of secrets?”

  Otter hesitated, debating how much to say. “Things that don’t add up. Strange happenings. Mentions of Classes that don’t exist anymore—if they ever did. And then there’s the System messages I’ve been getting.”

  She leaned forward. “You mean like Skills leveling up? There’s nothing strange about that.”

  “No, Ma. This is different. It’s connected to my Luck stat. Something called Luck’s Whisper. And I’ve gotten new objectives. That isn’t supposed to happen without a Class, right?”

  His mother went pale. “Luck’s Whisper?”

  “Yeah.”

  "She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Your father got those messages, too.”

  Otter nearly jumped up out of his chair. “What? That’s…that’s…I don’t know. But that’s something.”

  “Otter, you need to be careful. If you’ve gotten tangled up in the same mess your father did…” She let her words hang in the air.

  “Yeah. I’ll be careful.”

  A log in the hearth cracked, sending sparks trailing up the chimney. They both jumped at the sound. Then they laughed.

  “Look at us,” Marla said. “Jumping at shadows. Let’s forget all this nonsense for now. You’re home. We’re both safe. Let’s enjoy the Binding, shall we?”

  Otter nodded, but inside he knew he’d just learned something important. Another piece of the puzzle. Maybe he was a little closer to finding the truth about his father.

  And, maybe, he knew where to look next.

  It was still dark when Otter got up the next morning. Since he’d slept most of the afternoon, he had trouble getting to sleep. And once he did, his dreams were plagued by strange things he couldn’t quite remember when he woke.

  So, in the predawn hours, he rose quietly and padded into the kitchen. He lit the stove and made a batch of porridge. Soon, his mother joined him, and they enjoyed a quiet breakfast.

  “What are you going to do today?” his mother asked.

  “First, I’m going to check on Erin’s family. I kind of ran off yesterday. Then I have some errands to run.” He smiled.

  She arched an eyebrow, clearly suspicious.

  “I’m sure I can help out around the docks this afternoon if you need it. Otherwise I can check in with Ethel. See if she needs any deliveries.”

  “Just make sure you’re home for dinner,” his mother admonished, not at all mollified by his offer to help.

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  By the time the sun was up, Otter was on his way out the door. He was dressed in his old moth-eaten woolen coat with a watch cap pulled down over his ears. At his hip, he carried his father’s knife.

  The streets were still fairly calm, though people were beginning to stir. The sharp scent of burning still drifted through the air, a reminder of the recent Kaosborn attack.

  Otter tugged his coat a little tighter and made his way toward Erin’s home.

  The further he walked, the more the scent of the sea gave way to the earthy fragrance of damp soil and winter herbs. Greenshade was quieter, the hum of the city muffled by the thick canopy of trees interwoven with rooftops. Homes here were smaller, older, and well cared for, each with its own little patch of cultivated greenery. Flower boxes lined windows, ivy curled around wooden trellises, and beyond the worn stone walls, Otter knew many of the residents kept small gardens or foraged for wild plants outside the city.

  When he reached her house, he pushed open the gate and knocked on the door. Erin’s mother, Mirren, answered. She had the same sharp green eyes as her daughter but carried herself with an easy grace that softened their intensity. A warm smile touched her lips when she saw him.

  "Otter, dear, it’s good to see you," she said, stepping aside to let him in. "Come in before the wind steals all the warmth from the house."

  Inside, the cottage smelled of fresh bread and dried sage. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a golden glow over the small but cozy space. Erin sat at the wooden table, mending a tear in her glove. She looked up, an almost imperceptible flicker of relief crossing her face before she smirked.

  "Took you long enough," she said, setting the needle aside. Then she came over and hugged him.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d hugged him, but it was unexpected. He stiffened at first, his hormones confusing him, but when she didn’t let go, he relaxed into it. “Is your dad okay?”

  She pulled away and nodded. “Yes, everyone’s fine.” She sounded relieved, but Otter noticed a tear at the corner of her eye. He understood.

  Miren moved back to the hearth, stirring a pot on the stove. "We were lucky. Nothing reached this far. Just some frightened folks running past, and a few broken flower pots."

  Erin sat once more. "What about you? Your mom?"

  Otter nodded. "She’s fine. A little shaken, but fine."

  He hesitated before continuing, "Have you heard anything about the adventurers that helped?"

  Mirren shook her head. “Not really. Most of the action was near the west gate. All I know is things would have gone a lot worse if they hadn’t shown up.”

  Otter nodded. “I was just wondering if anybody famous was around.”

  Mirren shrugged. “Couldn’t say.”

  Otter looked at Erin. “Ma heard a few names. Dock gossip and all that.” He rattled off a couple she’d told him. He ended with, “and Varek Holloway.”

  Erin’s eyebrows just about climbed off the top of her face, but she didn’t say anything.

  Otter gave her a look that said, We’ll talk later.

  After catching up a little longer, Otter excused himself. “I’m going to the market to see if I can find a Binding gift for Ma. Want to join me?”

  “I can’t,” Erin said. “Papa and I are going foraging today.” She looked to her mother. “But maybe I can come by your house when we finish.”

  “Sounds good,” Otter said. “See you later.”

  As he left the house, he put the thought of Varek aside. Right now, he had a Binding Eve gift to find.

  The market district was busier than the rest of the city, though the usual lively chatter was subdued. Vendors were still setting up their wares—bundles of winter spices, hand-woven scarves, small carved charms meant to bring luck or ward off misfortune. The smell of roasting chestnuts drifted through the air, mingling with the crisp scent of pine from the wreaths decorating several stalls.

  Otter moved from vendor to vendor, scanning the goods. He hadn’t bought his mother a proper Binding Eve gift in years. When he was little, he’d make her something—a carved seashell pendant, a poorly sewn handkerchief, a pressed flower in a wooden frame. But now, he had real coin to spend.

  He ran his fingers over a polished wooden hair comb set with tiny blue stones. Pretty, but not quite right. A vendor selling embroidered shawls caught his eye, but he hesitated. His mother wasn't one for frills.

  Then, at the far end of the market, he spotted a small wooden stall tucked between two larger booths, its wares displayed on a faded blue cloth. Unlike the other merchants, who called out their deals, this vendor—a quiet, elderly woman with silver-threaded hair—simply watched the passersby with patient eyes.

  Laid out before her were jewelry pieces made of sea glass, their edges smooth from years of tumbling in the waves. Some were wrapped in delicate silver wire, others set in brass fittings, glinting under the pale winter sun.

  Otter’s fingers hovered over a deep blue sea glass charm, no bigger than a coin. It was polished to a soft sheen, wrapped in thin, twisting silver that resembled ocean waves.

  “You have a good eye,” the woman said, her voice like the hush of the tide.

  Otter glanced up. “It’s beautiful.”

  She nodded. “Sea glass is the ocean’s way of turning what’s broken into something new. Every piece carries the whispers of the sea.”

  Otter traced the smooth surface with his thumb. Something broken, made beautiful by time. He didn’t know much about his mother’s early life, but he knew it had been broken when his father disappeared. And yet, she was strong. Resilient. Beautiful.

  “How much?” he asked.

  “For you? One silver.”

  Otter hesitated, then dug into his pocket. His mother had given him the golden Summa before he left for the Academy. He hadn’t spent it. There was no need. He made more than enough with his work at the library to meet his few wants. But now, he wanted to buy something special for his mother.

  He withdrew the coin and held it up. “Can you make change?”

  The old woman nearly fell out of her chair. “I… I think so.” She pulled out a wooden box, unlocked it, and carefully counted out nine silver alms. “Yes. Here we go.”

  They made the exchange. The vendor smiled and slipped the charm into a small cloth pouch. “A fine gift. The sea never forgets those who honor it.”

  Otter took the pouch, tucking it safely into his coat.

  As he turned to leave, he caught a flicker of movement in his periphery—a figure standing at the edge of the crowd, half-hidden by the shadow of a nearby awning. Something tugged at Otter’s awareness, a feeling that he was being watched. Another shopper passed by, blocking his view for an instant, and when his sightline was clear, the figure was gone.

  A tingling sensation ran up Otter’s spine. Whoever that was had been watching him. He was certain of it. Why? He had no idea. Maybe the person had seen the flash of gold and was thinking about robbing him. He’d just have to be wary.

  He stepped away from the stall and slipped through the growing crowd. He kept moving, resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder. He did his best to blend into the crowd, letting the shifting tide of people carry him toward the market’s edge.

  He spotted someone dressed in the gray and navy uniform of the Brighthaven City Watch. A polished steel insignia on his chest caught the light, marking him as an official enforcer of the law. Otter drifted closer, hoping proximity would keep any would-be thieves at bay.

  At first, Otter didn’t recognize him. But when he was a dozen paces away, alarm bells started ringing in his brain. This was no random City Watchman.

  It was Bran.