After staying at the warehouse long enough to dry herself, and long enough for the shaking in her hands to stop, Catherine decided she couldn’t leave things half-said. She asked Ivarr to walk back with her to the Forgemaster’s shop. The latter looked up as they entered his shop, taking one glance at Catherine’s damp hair, the fresh wrappings on her arm and knee, and the blanket that had only just left her shoulders.

  “What happened to you?” he asked, brow furrowing.

  Catherine didn’t miss a beat. “A wave,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “A big one. It just came all of a sudden. It knocked me down, soaked me, scraped me up on the rocks. And it scared Barrel half to death, so we left early.”

  Ivarr made a sound beside her, something suspiciously close to choking, but Catherine elbowed him hard enough to shut it down.

  The Forgemaster’s expression softened. “That cove can be tricky. I hope your injuries weren’t too serious.”

  Catherine nodded earnestly, explaining that her wounds were minimal and shallow. Just scrapes, nothing more.

  She then showed the Forgemaster the crystals they’d brought. He weighed them in his hands, eyes flicking over their clarity, then nodded once.

  “This should be enough,” he said. “Enough for your rings, and enough to cover my work.”

  “Are you sure that’s enough, Mister Forgemaster?” Catherine asked.

  The Forgemaster nodded without hesitation, then added that if she felt they were short on payment, she should consider it a discount as an apology for her injuries.

  Catherine held his gaze for a moment, then gave him a small nod, a quiet thanks without turning it into a conversation.

  The Forgemaster set the crystals aside carefully. “Come back tomorrow,” he said. “Or any day after. I’ll have them ready for you.”

  Catherine shook his hand and left.

  She walked Ivarr back to the warehouse after that and bought him a meal for lunch. Ivarr accepted it with uncharacteristic silence, still concerned about her injuries. Catherine reassured him that she was fine, and that being quiet and worried didn’t suit him.

  “Lock the door,” Catherine told him, even though she knew he could vanish into shadows if he had to. “And don’t wander.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Ivarr muttered.

  Catherine shot him a glare.

  He smiled innocently, and without another word, Catherine bid him farewell and left.

  By the time she made it home, the adrenaline had finally burned itself out, leaving only a hard, sour exhaustion in its place.

  Carlisle was home alone, tinkering with a strange device. Their mother had gone to the customs office to discuss a trade deal with the southern states, and the house felt quieter without her moving through it.

  Barrel went straight to his bed and collapsed with a heavy huff, like he’d been carrying the whole day on his back. Catherine lingered in the doorway, still bothered by the image of that creature sinking into the sea.

  She found Carlisle and asked without preamble, “Do you know anything about creatures around Felgar?”

  Carlisle looked up from whatever he’d been doing, brow lifting. “Why?”

  “No reason,” Catherine said too quickly. “Just… curious.”

  Carlisle didn’t press, thankfully. He only shrugged. “Not much. But we get sea creatures washing ashore sometimes. Vicious ones. Probably when food is scarce out there, or when storms push them in.”

  Catherine absorbed that, jaw tightening. “Thanks,” she muttered, and retreated before he could ask anything else.

  After washing herself and putting on new clothes, she went straight to bed. She took the bracelet off and placed it on her desk. It was only late afternoon, but perhaps due to exhaustion, it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, rolling over and closing her eyes, not noticing the flicker on her bracelet.

  The next morning, Catherine woke to someone calling her.

  “Hey,” a muffled woman’s voice said. “Are you awake yet?”

  Catherine groaned into her pillow. “Later, Mom. I’m still sleepy.”

  “I need to ask you some things if you’re awake.”

  Catherine, knowing her mother’s persuasiveness, sat up, still groggy. “Mom, it’s too early.”

  When she opened her eyes, no one was there, and the door was closed. Catherine blinked hard and looked at it again, suddenly more alert.

  “…Mom?” she asked.

  “Finally,” the voice said, a note of irritation creeping in. “And stop calling me Mom.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  That woke her fully. Catherine whipped her head around her room, heart jumping. “Who—who’s there?!” Panic sharpened her voice before she could stop it.

  “Over here.”

  Catherine’s eyes darted. Her room was empty. No one behind the curtains. No shadow by the wardrobe. No shape by the door.

  “If you’re a ghost,” she snapped, forcing bravado she didn’t feel, “go away!”

  “Uuugh,” the voice muttered. “Airheaded human.”

  Catherine froze. “What’s that?”

  “Here!” the voice insisted. “To your left!”

  Catherine turned and finally noticed the faint, rhythmic flicker of light on her desk—her bracelet, the jewel pulsing with purple light like a heartbeat.

  Catherine stared, throat suddenly dry. “Bracelet…?”

  “Yes!” the voice said, sounding far too pleased with itself. “Finally.”

  Catherine’s gaze stayed on the bracelet a moment longer than she meant it to.

  Her eye twitched, and the scream that burst out of her after that was loud enough that it might’ve woken the entire town.

  Footsteps thundered up the stairs. Her parents didn’t knock. They burst into her room like it was on fire.

  “What happened, Catherine?!” her father demanded.

  Her mother was already at the bedside, hands on Catherine’s shoulders, scanning her face like she expected to find blood. “Why did you scream?!”

  Catherine’s breath hitched. She glanced at the bracelet on the desk, still faintly flickering, then forced her eyes back to her parents.

  “It’s… um…” Her voice cracked. She tried again. “The bracelet.”

  “The bracelet?” Her father stepped closer and picked it up. The moment he did, his brow furrowed. It looked different now—more elaborate, studded with stones that hadn’t been there before.

  “Why does it look like this?” her father asked, turning it in his hand. “Where did all these stones come from?”

  Her mother’s gaze sharpened. “Catherine?”

  Catherine’s mind raced so fast it felt like it tripped over itself.

  “I—uh—” she stammered, then grabbed the first story that sounded plausible. “I got this job, and the man paid me with his compass.”

  She went on to give a lengthy explanation of how odd the man was, his house full of antiques. The man had asked her to help him move and clean some of his things, and with very little coin, he’d offered to pay her with an old compass. It was after she accepted it that it melted into light and got absorbed by the bracelet. She’d been meaning to ask how, but she was too tired to stay up for conversations.

  Her father acknowledged that, due to the bracelet’s early design, he and the mage who helped him build it had left it open for upgrades, depending on what functions it was missing. It would appear the bracelet absorbed anything it deemed a necessary addition to its purpose.

  Her father hummed, still examining it. “That explains why it looks like that,” he said, almost impressed despite himself. “But what was the scream about?”

  Catherine swallowed, but the lengthy conversation had given her enough time to think and come up with a half-truth.

  “I… was having a dream,” she said quickly. “About a job. And I got attacked by a monster while doing it.”

  Her mother’s expression softened, her suspicion easing into something more familiar and tender. “Exhaustion,” she said, brushing Catherine’s hair back. “It’s giving you nightmares.”

  Her father nodded once, the bracelet still in his hand. “You’re working too hard.”

  “How about you stay home today and rest?” her mother added.

  Catherine let out a shaky exhale and nodded before they could ask more.

  Her father put the bracelet back down, reminding Catherine to always give herself time to breathe. Her parents then left for the kitchen, and a moment later her mother returned with a simple tray of milk and bread. She set it beside the bed like Catherine was still small enough to be soothed by routine. Her mother kissed her forehead before making her way out.

  When she finally left and the door clicked shut, Catherine stayed frozen for two full heartbeats, listening for footsteps down the hall. Only when she was sure her mother was gone did she reach for the bracelet, holding it like it might bite.

  “Bracelet?” she whispered.

  Nothing.

  Catherine’s grip tightened. “Bracelet.”

  The primary jewel flickered.

  A voice, muffled and barely above a whisper, spoke again.

  “Are your parents gone?”

  Catherine felt the chill crawl up the back of her neck. “…Yes,” she breathed. “And… how are you talking?”

  “It’s, um…” the voice hesitated. “Hang on a second…”

  The bracelet’s lights dimmed, then brightened again.

  “…It’s part of my… upgrade.”

  Catherine stared. “Upgrade?” she repeated. “With what? I didn’t get anything yesterday that you could have absorbed.”

  The bracelet flickered. “Even I don’t know,” it admitted, sounding frustrated with itself. “I only found out this morning that I could talk, and I called you because… because I wanted to ask you some questions.”

  Catherine’s mouth went dry. “What questions?”

  The bracelet’s voice came faster now, almost tumbling over itself:

  Why am I a bracelet? How can a bracelet have something like a simple brain? Why do I remember words like a dictionary but nothing else? Why are my memories limited to unfinished tasks and basic records?

  Catherine didn’t answer right away. She sat there, still clutching it, trying to decide whether this was the strangest dream she’d ever had, or the first day of her life getting worse in an entirely new direction.

  Finally, she forced herself to speak. “Because you were made,” she said slowly. “You were made for… work. For contracts. For tasks. For telling people what to do and what they get paid.”

  They kept exchanging questions and answers until finally the bracelet fell silent for a short moment. Then, quieter now, it asked, “Do you know anyone named Elyndra?”

  Catherine blinked. “Elyndra?”

  “Blue hair,” the bracelet said immediately. “Twin braids. Green eyes. Pointed ears. Beautiful flowing dress. Anyone who looks like that lives here, passed by, anything?”

  Catherine’s confusion shifted into recognition. Her eyes widened a fraction. “Oh! You mean… the Primal Goddess of the Seas?”

  “Yes!” the bracelet snapped, suddenly intense. “That one! Is she here? Tell me where I can find her!”

  Catherine shook her head. “No… no, I’ve only heard about her.”

  The bracelet’s lights dimmed as if it were deflating. “Damn it,” it muttered. “Why were you acting all excited? I nearly believed she was here.”

  Catherine hesitated, then frowned. “Why are you looking for her? And how did you know what she looked like?”

  The jewel didn’t respond right away.

  Catherine leaned closer. “Bracelet?”

  Another pause, too long to be comfortable.

  “Nothing,” the bracelet said too quickly. “I just—uh—saw her name and description in my records. I was just curious if we can see her.”

  Catherine’s expression tightened. “Ivarr said she’s gone,” she said cautiously. “Long gone, along with all the other gods there ever were, I suppose.”

  “Oh well,” the bracelet said, too casually for something that had just asked about a goddess like it was looking for someone lost. “How about we go out instead? Show me around. We can chat along the way.”

  Catherine stared at it, still sitting up in bed, the tray of milk and bread untouched beside her. “…Uh,” she said, trying to make her voice sound normal, “sure. I guess we can go out after I finish my breakfast.”

  She hesitated, then held it up, a bit more relieved now that the jewel had started talking. “You don’t mind if I put you on, Bracelet?”

  “Not at all,” it replied immediately. “But please, stop calling me bracelet.”

  Catherine blinked. “What do I call you, then?”

  There was a brief pause, then the jewel flickered once again. Catherine stared, waiting.

  “Thal—” it said, voice catching, “—ia.”

  The bracelet’s light steadied, the voice firmer now.

  “Call me Thalia.”