The last days of the rainy spring season slipped through Cal's fingers, and the merciless summer sun began to encroach upon the earth and the sky. Elowyn's rebellious fits grew more prevalent the closer she got to her birthday. If she cared about the way her behavior reflected on Cal, the way Mr. Adeline glared at Cal from her peripheral every time Elowyn escaped into the courtyard to play during her studying time, Cal couldn't tell. And with the threat of spilling Cal's most recent conversation with Marin hanging over her, Elowyn seemed convinced she could force Cal to do anything.

Power corroded the innocent girl who once whispered her orders like suggestions, who clung to Cal's arms like a lifeline whenever she was forced to attend a social event in the crowded parlor, who woke up in fits of violent coughs overnight and cried until Cal came to soothe her. Because no one else would. That was Cal's job, not the Adeline family's courtesy.

"Did you hear the black rain fell again last week?"

Cal's ears burned as the whisper floated through the open library door, paired with the soft pad of slippered steps. Through the crack, she caught two hired girls gossiping as they walked by, arm in arm and leaning into each other.

"I had to draw Miss Elowyn's bath that day. She barely escaped the water's curse," the second girl murmured in response to the first. "The poor thing was shaking."

Glancing in the seat beside her, Cal confirmed Elowyn was busy with her nose in a book her tutor, Miss Sophie, had shoved into her hands first thing that morning. Her face was pinched in a thoughtful frown, eyes glued to the page. Cal slipped out of her chair and crept toward the double doors, leaning into the crack to catch the tail end of the conversation.

"... never have brought that girl here. Her sigil is bad news—and she serves such a dreadful spirit! What if the black water destroys the estate like it did Luche?"

"Calliope?" One of the girls scoffed. "Honestly. She's dreadful herself. I wish Mr. Adeline would be rid of her before we get cursed." With a laugh, higher pitched this time, she added, "At least she's not trying to weasel her way into the family."

The girls tittered as they reached the end of the hall. As they turned the corner, Cal caught one last line: "She doesn't have the looks for that."

Heat flushed Cal's face, but she turned away from the doors and folded her arms. It was all too easy to succumb to the urge to check her loose-fitting dress in a mirror and fiddle with the ends of her braided hair when someone else hinted that something was amiss. It didn't help matters that Marin was also giggling in her ear, crawling up from the sigil.

They're not wrong, the spirit said, prodding Cal's closely guarded heart with thousands of needles. You don't have any assets to speak of, and you dress like you want to be even more unappealing. Otherwise, I'd advise you to chase the young lord and weasel into this family for the money—what was his name again? Sam? Salmon? Salamander?

"You only mean to anger me so you can have your fun at my expense," Cal muttered under her breath. She picked at the glove covering her sigil and made her way back to Elowyn. Despite her efforts, it was easy to give into the surge of frustration, and almost too easy to let Marin win knowing she would bring the floods. It was especially easy when Cal met Elowyn's eye and the girl dared to smile. Her fingers curled.

Maybe she should have learned to bite the hand that feeds a long time ago.

"Something interesting?" Elowyn lowered her book, her thumb stuck between the covers to keep her place.

Cal narrowed her eyes. "Your maids are gossiping about the black rain. I've done what you asked. Isn't it a bit unfair to be spreading rumors at my expense?" If word reached Elowyn's father, it was only a matter of time before Cal lost her life along with her job—or worse, turned loose and set at the mercy of those who would avenge the tragedy of Luche.

I'd drown them all, Marin whispered, and her cold fingers seemed to curl around Cal's shoulders. No one can hurt you while you have my gift. Don't forget that. You need me.

The palms of Cal's hands smarted as her nails sank into them. Quiet.

Elowyn's face fell, oblivious to Marin's interjection. She shoved her book away and stood. "Whatever do you mean? I'd never intentionally do something to get you in trouble. I need you, Cal."

Her face was the perfect mask of innocence, brows pinched and eyes wide with concern. She even folded her fragile hands into her indigo skirt, twisting the thick fabric around her little fingers until they were swallowed by the sea of blue. Either she had forgotten her threats entirely, or she thought Cal was dumb enough to believe her. Both options knotted Cal's insides, and she hated that her tongue could only stick to the roof of her mouth.

Maybe she had never meant it as a threat, too young to understand that she had drawn a battle line between herself and Cal when she held the black water over Cal's head like it was her leash. At least, that's what Cal told herself as she let go of the squirming anger inside her in a rush of air. Her head was beginning to ache. Marin and Elowyn both tugged her in opposite directions, always telling her they needed her and she needed them.

All she wanted was to shrink out of sight and leave them both behind.

Elowyn took her hand again, squeezing it in both of her own as she tugged Cal toward the exit. "Come on. I'm bored of this. Do you think we have time to fill Samuel's bed with grass before he comes out of his study?"

Samuel! Marin exclaimed. That's the one you need to seduce. For the money, Cal—but you need to go by Calliope again. It's sexier.

The headache was getting more aggressive. "I don't think your brother would appreciate the gesture. Or your father. Or your mother. Or anyone, really."

Elowyn's neatly filed nails pricked Cal's skin, almost as sharp as the glare that cut her way. "What do you know about what my family wants?" she snapped. "You don't even have a family—and sometimes, I think you're lucky for it. No one's confining you to a stuffy library of stuffy books for a stuffy textile business."

Heat flared in Cal's face, and she clenched her jaw until it ached. "You don't mean that."

"What if I do?" Elowyn dropped Cal's hand like it had burned her. She whipped around to face the older girl, face pinched in a way that mirrored too much of her father. "I'd be better off if I just ran away and never saw them again. I'd do anything to be rid of them!"

The ocean inside Cal surged, a storm whipped up by the heat of anger in her core. It was all she could do to bite the inside of her cheek, to swallow against the tightness in her throat until she couldn't breathe through the fog. Marin was there, too, her cruel smile evident in every shadow. Go on, she seemed to say, though her voice wasn't there. Don't you want to fight back?

But she couldn't, not when the simmer beneath her skin was nothing more than the dark presence of the haunted water. It was a similar sentiment, a similar loss of control, that cut her off from her family forever. Marin won then, but Cal wouldn't let her win again.

She hung her head, twisting the end of her braid to do anything with her hands, anything but look at the sigil itching beneath her glove. "I'm not here to argue with you or to tell you what you can't say, but please don't idolize my circumstances."

Elowyn searched Cal's face with a tight frown. Loose fringe of mousy brown frizz framed the look in a way that made her appear wild and untamed. She started to push her fragile shoulders back with disdain when a ragged cough shook her body, heavy and thick as it ripped from her lungs.

Cal's frustration and lingering storm of anger retreated as she steadied Elowyn against her, rubbing calm motions up and down the girl's back until she could catch her breath. It had always been that way; Elowyn was too frail, they said, and she could never be more than a desk-bound assistant to her older brother in the family business. Yet the wheezing never deterred her from playful antics—anything to avoid being tied to her tutor and a book on textiles all day.

Choking on her breath, Elowyn folded in Cal's embrace, face buried in Cal's chest and skinny arms closed firmly around Cal's back. She trembled as she sobbed, muffled by the front of Cal's dress. "I want them to look at me, Cal," she whispered. "All anyone ever talks about is you, but I don't want to be your enemy."

Something like pity fluttered in the cage of Cal's ribs, a bird desperate to escape the rising waters before it drowned. Tentatively, she cradled Elowyn until her tears subsided and the library was quiet again.

"You're not my enemy," she finally said in a low murmur, after Elowyn had already begun to pull away. "Why don't you rest today? I can inform Miss Sophie that you're not feeling well."

To her surprise, Elowyn nodded as she wiped her face on her sleeve. It was still splotchy and red, distinctly disturbed by the trails of tears tracing down her cheeks, but maybe that would work in her favor. If she wanted attention, she was sure to earn it with her rattling breath and her post-sob sniffles. Yet there was truth to her words. She was too small to overcome the great shadow of the Adeline business and the sigil-bearer the family kept on a tight leash.

But together, they continued toward the crack in the library doors and the light that streamed through it. Until darkness fell over it, and the doors swung open to reveal the bulky form of Mr. Adeline towering over them with a sneer.

"Calliope." Mr. Adeline tilted his chin down, his cold gaze hardening like frost. "Elowyn has not been dismissed from her studies, yet here you are on your way out the door."

Cal shivered, and the thousands of ants swarming beneath her sigil were suddenly crawling up her arms with the surge of the waters. "Sir, Elowyn is—"

"Oh, heavens, not again!" Miss Sophie bustled into the room, already shaking a disappointed finger at Cal before she even made it through the door with one arm full of books. "Calliope, what a dreadful girl you are. Miss Elowyn never gets anything done with you around." She dropped her books on the table with a huff before spinning to face Mr. Adeline and dipping into a low curtsy. "Apologies, sir, I had only been gone for a few minutes. I will see to it that Elowyn finishes the day strong."

Cal's lip twitched. Sophie always blamed Cal in the presence of Mr. Adeline, perhaps afraid to speak ill of his daughter to his face, but she had done her fair share of scolding Elowyn when he wasn't around. It was always Cal who took the fall, and the leash only tightened around her.

So negative, Marin chided, and her voice turned Cal's blood to ice. Remember that you can't control the sea. It yearns to be free, which you will be someday. The edges of the sigil, the old scar cut deep into her flesh, began to drip like the blood was fresh.

Cal tucked her hand behind her back, heart caught in her throat and a roaring in her ears. The tall library windows were behind her, and their light dimmed as the sky darkened with clouds. Don't you dare summon the black water again.

If Marin argued her innocence in the back of Cal's mind, it was lost as Mr. Adeline let out a heavy sigh. Cal had almost forgotten his stuffy silence as the water spirit pulled her under, but now she was pinned beneath his cold brown eyes again and her feet were frozen in place.

"Would you care to explain yourself, Calliope?" he asked, equal parts polite and bordering on a threat as an edge crept into his voice. The way he lifted his brows suggested there was more he wasn't saying—perhaps he, too, had overheard the gossip that Elowyn had failed to keep in check.

Cal swallowed hard, her throat scratchy and dry. It bought her a few seconds, but she wasted them trying to piece together a response. The words trickled through her fingers, as useless as Marin's precious sigil but far less dangerous.

"Father," Elowyn cut in, and her voice cracked with emotion. She cleared her throat, stepping forward and tugging on the hem of his overcoat. "Cal hasn't done anything wrong. I'm tired. She was only escorting me to my room for the evening."

"Don't interject, Elowyn." His face hardened. "The day is young. You will continue your studies until Miss Sophie dismisses you."

Elowyn flinched, shrinking back into herself, her embers finally stamped out entirely. She cast Cal a sideways look, brimming with apology.

Cal gritted her teeth. "She needs to rest, sir," she snapped, jerking her chin back up to meet his gaze head on. "She has done enough for today, and it was your doctor that instructed Miss Elowyn to rest in bed when she has trouble breathing. If you want her to take a book with her, fine, but you can't force her to stay cooped up in here all day. Spare your daughter a thought; she's more than a paperweight for your desk."

Sophie gasped and snatched Cal's wrist. "You will hold your tongue when you address Mr. Adeline! You are a lady, and you will act like one."

The waters darkened within Cal, wild and vengeful as they crashed against her soul. She jerked out of Sophie's grasp, tearing away the glove from her sigil-scarred right hand. Flecks of water dripped from the tips of her fingers, splattering the wood paneled floors. "I'm not a lady in your eyes. I never will be because of this mark I bear. If you want me to act like one, then don't treat me like a disaster waiting to happen. Otherwise, I'll have to become the disaster."

Outside, the sky rumbled, its voice as dark as the one inside her. Marin hummed beneath the sigil, but she waited patiently for the order this time. It was more fulfilling to first taste the fear, she would say.

Sophie's eyes went wide as she took in the sigil and the growing storm behind the glass. Mr. Adeline's scowl deepened. He didn't even flinch, but a flash of murder touched his dark gaze.

"What is it you want?" he asked.

By now, Cal was shaking. "You placed Elowyn in my care. The least you could do is honor that—for her sake, not mine—and listen when she says she needs rest."

"Calliope." Elowyn took her hand, pressed to her side. She shook her head softly. "It doesn't matter."

Cal hooked her arm around Elowyn's shoulders, chest tight as pity morphed into something else, something deeper and darker. "If Elowyn's studies are so important to you, maybe hire her a tutor who actually teaches her something instead of sauntering off during her lessons all the time. That is all." She put her head down and stalked out of the library with Elowyn in tow.

Sophie sputtered, trying first to address her words with Mr. Adeline before desperately calling for the two to come back. Cal kept her head down and ignored her cries until they faded into nothing but echoes in the empty halls of the Adeline estate.

Nicely done, Marin cooed as she slithered through Cal's veins, dismissing the darkness in the sky as easily as breathing.

I didn't accomplish anything, Cal snapped back. I've only ticked him off, and I'll probably find myself hanged tomorrow.

I think you've cut him where it hurts. After all, his own daughter was clinging to you by the end, not him, even in spite of the black rain. But what do I know? I'm just your patron spirit.

Cal hated it, but she couldn't help but consider Marin's words. If the tables turned for Elowyn, would it be better for her as well?

Cal and Elowyn, what crimes will they commit?

The crime of being silly geese.

That's all for the update splurge! See you next week with chapter four :)