The thick odor of dead fish gave way to the scent of salt and seafoam, and Syra nearly forgot about Fin when the breeze from the city's port hit her full force. She stretched her arms wide, catching the warm air in her flared fingers. Her chest filled with the sea mist and her back muscles ached to spread her wings and hover above the breaking waves.
“Alright, that's enough sight-seeing,” Aidan turned away from the boardwalk to continue down the street, “Weldon's shop should be down this way.”
Fish and tourism, that's what drew the crowds to Dairos. The temperate waters offered a bounty of seafood, and the city-on-stilts buzzed with music and people from all over. Even now, Syra could see a ship unloading passengers from across the sea to revel in its warm beaches, eclectic food, and the lighthouse that stood proudly on the neighboring island.
The map led them down a channel lined with boutiques of food and fashion—all of the fanciful kind—and away f