Cyprus shoved Shay to move. The other boy gave the pirate his best cheeky grin, and Halse spooned out a dribble of thin, greenish stew for him along with some misshapen bits of meat.
This was the Serafina that Lonan knew best—the Serafina after the Porfirios died. Afraid of its own coasts but too poor to move. Dreading the change of seasons. Quietly taking Mistress Leroy’s sleeping herbs and forgetting the names of its dead.
“Lonan, be reasonable, boy,” Neils extended a placating hand toward him, as if to divert a rockslide. “We’ve all taken a blow today. There’s no use in taking another. I’ve done some sailing in my day, and no ship of Serafina’s could catch a ship like that captain’s.”
Kaz’s fingers clamped down on the back of the boys’ necks. His grasp was icy, and black shot through Cyprus’s vision. That iciness spread from the point of contact, sinking dark magic deep into his muscles. Cyprus didn't know if he'd collapsed or frozen in place standing.
Every day before breakfast, Mariela crept out to see the fairy’s maze. She took her mother’s old mirror from the top of its mahogany dresser, blowing off the scraps of crumbling wallpaper, and swiped a scone from the cook’s first batch of the day.
Reading is good for you. It's good for learning empathy and it's good for honing your writing skills. Find time to read during the day the same way you find time to write: a paragraph at a time, in between tasks, in pieces and sometimes in the sly.
At long last, I've changed the working title of "Lost and Found." The story is now called "To Those Seek Sirens."
Beyond the great blue expanse, the coast of Avalon sat like a circlet atop the waves. It was so far away already Cyprus couldn’t make out any buildings, only the greenish ups and downs of hills. “There she goes,” Kaz said cheerfully, noting the change in Cyprus’s expression.
A goat screamed above. The smell of blood and urine rolled down the stairs. Cyprus and Shay clung to the net and each other, shaking.