Mini Brain Dumps

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Trigger Warning: This novel contains references to sexual assault and mental health disorders. Reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 27:

Quentin clenched his jaw so tightly it felt as though his teeth might shatter under the pressure. His knuckles whitened as his fists tightened at his sides. “This can’t be happening,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

Standing at the edge of the rock face, Quentin and Cate gazed down at the scene below, where the once majestic Sovereign lay in ruin. Where the once proud vessel had been now lay nothing but a chaotic jumble of splintered wood.

Cate’s eyes widened in horror as her gaze swept over the wreckage, her hand flying to her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle the gasp that escaped her lips. “This… this is impossible,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the eerie silence that enveloped them.

“I can’t believe it,” Quentin whispered.

Together, they approached the remains of the ship. As they drew nearer, Quentin reached out to touch a broken beam, his fingers tracing the jagged edges. Cate’s brow furrowed as she picked up a piece of word, turning it over in her hands as if searching for answers within its splintered surface. With a heavy sigh, she let it drop from her hand, the sound of its impact against the wreckage echoing through the silence.

Quentin’s gaze remained fixed on the shattered remnants before him. Each broken bream and twisted plank seemed to mock him. “What do you think happened?” he asked.

“I think the sirens didn’t want us to go looking for answers here,” she answered, picking through the debris.

“You think this might have had something to do with them slipping past Sera and Caico without them noticing?” he asked.

She contemplated for a moment. “It’s possible. They could’ve used the sinking of the ship as a distraction.”

“And they decided to destroy the evidence when we found them in hopes of covering their trail,” Quentin added.

Cate pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes tightly. “Dammit,” she said, hitting the pile of wood with her tail. Quentin watched as a piece detached itself and tumbled away.

As the wreckage shifted, something caught Quentin’s eye, a flash of light that quickly disappeared again beneath the debris. He swam over, lifting the wood gently. Am intricately carved mark etched into a piece of wood appear. It was a symbol they had seen before.

“It’s the mark,” Quentin exclaimed in disbelief.

Cate eyes widened as she swam over to him, grabbing the piece of word from his hand. She ran her finger over the lines. “Quentin,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“What?” he said, leaning over her shoulder.

“Wait a second… Hold this,” she murmured, shoving the piece of wood into his hand roughly before rummaging through her bag furiously until she pulled out a small silver pendant triumphantly, holding it out for Quentin to see. It was the necklace she had taken from Captain Reynolds’s room.

Quentin held up the piece of wood next to the pendent, looking closer at the lines as his heart hammered against his chest. They matched perfectly. He looked up at Cate his eyes wide. “They’re the same,” he breathed.

Quentin had never seen such a wide grin on Cate’s face before. “The council said that these magical footprints are unique to each person… that means that this necklace, and the mark on the ship, were done by the same person.”

“So, if we find who this necklace belongs to…” Quentin pondered.

“Then we find our siren.”

___

Cate’s triumphant grin faded.

“We can’t stay here,” she said firmly.

Quentin nodded, scanning the wreckage one last time. “Where do we go?”

Cate glanced at the pendant. “The council. If this is a footprint then they will know who it belongs to.”

“How do you think that they’ll know?”

Cate shoulder her bag. “I don’t know. Maybe they have a book or something. Like the birth records we have on land, but for magic.”

Quentin trailed behind her, his brow furrowed in thought, his gaze darting between the darkened water ahead and the distant outline of the shattered ship. “You think they’ll even believe us?” Quentin asked after a moment, his voice cutting through the silence.

Cate didn’t look back. “Does it matter? If they don’t, we’ll make them. This mark is proof enough, and the council’s supposed to protect us, right? It’s their job to listen.”

Quentin chewed the inside of his cheek. “Okay,” he said finally. “We’ll make them listen.”

The journey to Seidonis felt longer than usual. Quentin kept glancing at Cate’s bag, the weigh seeming to drag them further into the unknown. The castle loomed ahead, the shimmering coral and obsidian stone imposing instead of inviting. As they approached, the gates opened with a slow, grinding groan. Two guards stationed at the entrance glanced at the pair but said nothing, recognizing them immediately. Inside, the castle was alive with movement – couriers darted back and forth, their tails flashing in the dim light, while the aides huddled in quiet conversations near the grand hall. Cate led the way, brisk and determined.

“Do you think that they’ll actually take us seriously?” Quentin asked hesitantly.

Cate didn’t slow down. “They have to,” she replied.

Quentin envied her certainty. He nodded reluctantly, struggling to keep up with her speed and not run into others scurrying through the halls.

The council chambers were in the heart of the castle. A large door bared there way, but Cate shouldered it open, the creaking of the hinges announcing their arrival. The room was small with high, vaulted ceilings, with chairs surrounding the dais where the elders sat. As they entered the chamber, their heated conversation died, and they turned to face them with a look of surprise on their faces. Nerissa was the first to recover, folding her hands in front of her.

“Cate, Quentin…. What brings you here? I don’t believe we have summoned you.” Cate didn’t hesitate. She reached into her bag, producing the pendant, and held it in front of her. “This.” She dropped the piece of wood on the table and backed away slightly.

Thalassa could barely contain the look of annoyance. “You disturb us because you found some treasure?”

Cate’s jaw tightened, but she kept her voice steady. “It’s not treasure. Look closer.” She stepped forward and placed the pendant on the table before the council. The soft clink of silver against the polished stone echoed in the chamber. Nerissa’s sharp eyes flicked to the pendant; her expression unreadable as she picked it up. Her fingers traced the intricate etching of the magical footprint. The annoyance in Thalassa’s face wavered as she leaned closer. Niamh shifted forward; curiosity piqued.

“A beautifully designed piece,” Nerissa mused, turning it over to admire the intricate etching. “But I fail to see the significance. Why bring this to us?”

The muscles in Cate’s jaw feathered, but instead of replying, she reached into her bag again, pulling out the jagged piece of wood from the wreckage. She placed it beside the pendant with a thud. “Because of this,” Cate said firmly, pointing to the carved mark on the wood. “Look closer.”

The council members leaned forward, their expressions shifting from mild disinterest to sharp focus.

“The same mark… It could be a coincidence,” Niamh breathed.

“It’s not,” Cate answered softly, unclenching her fists and stretching her fingers.

“It’s irrelevant. We have more pressing matters to attend,” Thalassa grunted.

Nerissa placed the pendant and the piece of wood side by side, her brow furrowing as she studied the identical marks. Her fingers brushed the carved symbol on the wood, her usual calm demeanor betraying a flicker of unease. “It is indeed… peculiar,” she admitted slowly. “But peculiarities do not always imply significance. Many artifacts bear similar markings, and not all lead to sinister conclusions.”

Cate balled her fists at her side. “You think we dragged this here just to entertain you with coincidences? That mark didn’t just appear out of nowhere. It’s a footprint, and you know what that means.”

Niamh tilted her head, leaning back in her chair.

“And you found this… where?” Thalassa interrupted.

“We found it at the Sovereign… or at least what used to be the Sovereign,” Quentin answered.

The three council members exchanged a look between themselves, almost as if they were having a telepathic conversation. Niamh’s shoulders sank, and she shook here head softly as the three turned their attention back to Cate. Thalassa tapped her fingers against the arm of her chair, her narrowed eyes darting between the pendant and Cate as if weighing the merit of their unspoken argument.

Nerissa sighed, placing the pendant and the wood down carefully, her fingers lingering for a moment before she folded her hands in front of her. Her expression softening with what almost seemed like pity. “I understand your feelings,” she began, her voice calm but edged with a gentle condescension. “The Sovereign was more than just a ship to you – it was your home. It’s natural to seek answers in the face of such a devastating loss. But…” She paused, her gaze flicking to the pendant and the wood. “I fear you may be grasping at connections that don’t exist, searching for meaning in an otherwise senseless tragedy.”

Cate looked towards Quentin.

“This isn’t grief talking. This is evidence! Two matching marks—one on a pendant we found in the wreckage, and one on the Sovereign itself. I don’t know how they’re connected but you can’t seriously think that’s meaningless,” Quentin explained, swimming forward to float beside Cate. “We’re not making this up. If you don’t believe us, then investigate it yourselves. If we’re wrong, you can tell us to leave and never come back. But don’t sit there and dismiss this without even trying to understand what we’ve found.”

Thalassa scoffed. “Let’s assume, for a moment, that these marks are intentional. What do you suggest we do? You’ve brought us fragments of a shipwreck and an artifact with a mark. Are we to comb the ocean for an answer to every mark or symbol we encounter?”

Cate’s voice broke through like a whip. “Yes, if that’s what it takes! Isn’t that your job—to protect us? To investigate threats? Or are you so comfortable in this castle that you’ve forgotten what’s out there?”

Cate’s words cut through the chamber like a blade, her voice steady but seething. She didn’t flinch under Thalassa glare. For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. Quentin’s chest tightened at the sight of her, every muscle taut with a barely restrained fury. He came to float beside Cate.

“Cate, Quentin, I understand your frustration. I do. But we cannot mobilize resources every time a fragment of evidence crosses our path. We must prioritize threats we can verify, not chase shadows,” Nerissa stated.

Quentin grabbed Cate’s arm, gently tugging her back. “Let’s go,” he urged quietly. They weren’t going to get anywhere with the council. Not today at least.

Cate wrenched her arm free and leaned in close to the council, her voice low. “Shadows don’t destroy ships.” Her eyes blazed as she stared at the council members unflinching. “And when it comes for us next, I hope this castle keeps you safe.

Thalassa leaned forward, mere inches from Cate when Nerissa cut in with a flick of her wrist. Thalassa glared at Nerissa, mouth open as if about to speak, but she fixed her with a hard stare. Thalassa sulked back into her seat. “You are excused.”

Without another word, Cate reached forward and scooped up the pendant and wood. Cate paused just long enough to give on last, piercing look at Nerissa. The door slammed shut behind her. Quentin lingered for a moment, his gaze flicking between where Cate has disappeared and the council members.

“You’re wrong about this,” he said finally. “But you’ll see soon enough.” With that, he followed Cate out of the chamber, the door slamming shut behind him.

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