“This is our sweet angelfish.” Pearce lifted his chin and held out a hand as if he were presenting a particularly profitable shipment to a prospective buyer. “She is quite—”
Astraea’s gaze cut him off. “She can speak for herself. Can’t you, lovely one?”
Larisa bowed again, her fins rippling gently in the current. “Yes, my queen. Thank you for coming to hear me. I hope I will please you.”
The settee was soft on Astraea’s back. “I’m sure you will.”
Larisa glanced at her parents, then, with their nod of approval, she opened her mouth and sang. Notes swam through the silver bubbles coming from her lips. The sound waves rippled to Astraea’s ears. Low and mellow, high and sweet, the notes tripped and stretched.
Astraea’s heart surged. Only truly astounding music could move her, and here it was, in the flesh. Astraea’s eyes burned as she stood, wanting to get closer, to hear her more clearly, to better take in every line of undulating sound.
A servant near the doors knocked an elbow into the wall, and Larisa’s voice caught and stumbled. She corrected the mistake quite quickly. The hitch resulted from youth and inexperience. That was all. She would grow stronger with time.
At the conclusion of the piece, Larisa’s parents rushed over to apologize to Astraea for the slight mistake.
“Please forgive her, my queen,” Pearce said.
“You deserve better, Queen Astraea,” Acantha said. She turned and slapped Larisa across the face. Blood leaked into the water and hung around Larisa’s head like a crown.
Astraea’s childhood came roaring back. Her family had replaced the pearl merchant, the wife, and Larisa. She saw her mother’s hand striking and felt her own blood sliding away. Fear chilled her veins and tried to tell Astraea she would never have power over her own life. Not with the Touched mark. Not with her parents using her status like pieces on a chess board.
Fury boiled around Astraea’s heart.
On the day she’d cut down her beastly parents, she’d vowed none would have power over her. And in Larisa’s face, Astraea saw her own.
She sped to Larisa’s side, touched the split lip, and said a spell to heal it.
Then Astraea faced Acantha. “How dare you lay your filthy hands on this jewel.”
Memories of her own parents’ cruel hands writhed inside her mind.
Blocking out Acantha’s apologies, Astraea called up a spell, and the water began to churn. Currents whirled faster than even she could see. Using her coral spear, she threw the spelled water, and Acantha fell back. Pearce tried and failed to catch his wife as the magical current twisted her body to smash against the wall.
A garish coral sculpture of a dolphin detached from its mount, the pathetic excuse for artwork crashing into Acantha’s head. Blood poured from the wound as she moaned, and Pearce shouted for his servants. Acantha jerked, then went limp, her body floating in the ruby water. The female was dead.
Larisa started toward her horrible mother, but Astraea stayed the girl with a hand. “You don’t owe that monster a thing, darling. Come with me.”
With Pearce stammering pleas, apologies, and calls to his healer, Astraea swam from the house. Larisa followed quietly in her wake.
“Never let lesser beings diminish you,” Astraea said as they swam through town, nodding to the bowing passersby. “You have a power in that voice of yours, and you must use it to rule your own little kingdom. A kingdom I’ll create for you at court.” Astraea smiled. It would be pleasant to have a protégé of sorts.
“But you killed her.” Larisa’s lip trembled. “That was… she was my mother.”
Astraea paused to press a finger to Larisa’s shaking mouth. “Do not spare another thought for her. Or for your father. You are made for greater things. Acantha would’ve killed you if I’d have let her continue. Not today. But soon. I know how these things happen. Trust me. I’m your true patron and supporter.”
Just then, Astraea remembered that Grystark had asked to speak to her. He’d argue about the way she’d sent Ryton to slay the Earth Queen. He’d be worried for his old friend. Such weakness of spirit! Such vanity to disagree with one’s queen! She grimaced, her stomach turning as she imagined the spark of judgment in his old eyes. Smoothing her features, she smiled at Larisa.
“You don’t need those beastly parents, and I won’t allow you to demean yourself by mourning their loss. Don’t worry, little fish. I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Your lessons will begin today. I will show you how to bring a soul to heel.”
Chapter Five
Vahly walked beside Arc, while Nix went on a step or so ahead, stopping now and then to pick an unusual plant and taste it carefully with the tip of her blue tongue. Nix winced at a white stalk of green flowers that looked like small hands, but when she sampled a tall, orange weed with tiny branches that waved in the warm breeze, her eyebrows lifted, and she ate the entire plant.
The egg and the problem of its existence pressed against Vahly’s every thought, shoving all other concerns to the very back of her mind. “Why would less prey mean fewer eggs hatched?” she asked Arc.
He moved the strap of his large bag, smoothing a wrinkle from the material of his surcoat, along the muscles of his chest. “The young inside weren’t strong enough to live, to break through the shell when the time came to emerge.”
“Could we break the shell open ourselves?”
“I think that would be fatal to the creature.” He eyed her satchel. “Gryphons were originally very hardy simplebeasts. Some stories claimed they even had a form of magic themselves.”
Nix glanced at them over her shoulder, her wings fluttering. “What form? Air? Fire? I assume it must be one of those due to its ability to fly.” The lapis-studded clips in her red hair reflected the sun. Dramour had bought the clips for her with his winnings last summer.
“That’s a good question,” Arc said. “I don’t know.”
The egg’s presence pulled at Vahly’s heart, and she touched the satchel just to feel its shape again. “I have a bond with it. It’s ridiculous, but I do. I have to help him hatch.”
“What’s that plant you are devouring, Nix?” Concern tightened the syllables of Arc’s words.
Nix waved a stalk she’d plucked to bring along. “Tastes like bacon.”
“A plant that tastes of meat? Intriguing. May I try some?” Arc took a piece from Nix and bit down on the bright orange branches. They seemed to be softer than most weeds. “I hope this doesn’t kill me.”
Vahly’s stomach growled fiercely. “Does it taste like hog?”
“It does indeed,” Arc said. “And if I’m not mistaken, it is helping me see more clearly. Did you notice that as well, Nix? Odd. And worrisome. I’ve never come across such a plant.”
Nix dropped back. “Yes. I can see the tops of the Bihotzetik ruins. That’s a cathedral’s spire in the midst of the waves, isn’t it?”
Arc nodded.
“Well, give me some of that magical bacon.” Vahly took a piece from Nix’s clawed hand, then chewed it quickly.
The distant water slowly grew clearer. Foam-tipped waves framed the glassy black stone spires of the fallen human city.
Bihotzetik. From the heart.
Vahly’s heart surged. This was the last powerful hold of earth kynd.
The earth’s drumming pounded through her bones, and a feeling like static electricity ran up her legs before spreading into her chest, arms, and up the back of her neck. A tingling sensation poured down her scalp, then the scent of sun-warmed earth filled her nose.
She took a long breath, feeling fully alive and fully herself. The magic was speaking to her, showing her that she had to get into that ruined city.
“Vahly?” Arc tilted his head and smiled tentatively. He and Nix had both turned to stare. “You look …” His gaze traveled over her face as if he could find the descriptive word he wanted written in her features.
“My magic. It’s speaking to me. Like it did after I was
hed in the Blackwater and when I found the egg.”
Nix glanced at the sunken city, then she looked at Vahly again. Her blue scales glittered in the sun. “And it has to do with the city.”
The tallest of the five spires was indeed the Bihotzetik cathedral. It’d been a place of worship for over two millennia before the sea kynd had lifted the ocean and flooded the entire metropolis, killing every inhabitant. Only those humans in the mountains where Vahly, Nix, and Arc now stood had lived through the attack. The survivors had been forced to relocate to the Lost Valley, where Vahly had been born.
Holding a hand up to block the sun and squinting hard enough to give her a headache, Vahly tried to make out the cathedral spire’s shape—three curved oak leaves that came to a point at the very top.
The scrolls she’d found on human history explained the cathedral’s tie to earth magic and the sacred oak. Vahly shook her head. Every one of her kynd, from child to elder, had known all the ins and outs of earth magic. She knew less than any in history.
But at least the magic was speaking to her. That was something.
“I have to go there. To the city.”
“We’re still going with that wild idea, are we?” Nix’s voice strained. “To get as close to the ruins as we can?” She swallowed, her lips turned down in a look that some would think was disgust. It was actually fear.
And Vahly was about to make it worse. She breathed out slowly. “I’m not going close. I’m going in.”
Arc threw the remainder of his orange plant to the ground.
Nix snatched it up. “What are you doing?”
“If this plant has anything to do with Vahly wanting to risk venturing into the sea kynd’s realm, I want no part of it.” He faced Vahly. “You’re the hope of the world. This is impossible. Recklessness could very well be an effect of this food source.”
“It’s not the plant,” Vahly said. “My magic tells me I have to go there. And reckless is pretty much my middle name, so you’d best get used to this type of thing.”
Nix pointed to a game trail heading parallel to the coastline, its faint line perpendicular to the path they were currently following. “Let’s head that way. We can scope out the ocean and maybe check through some ruins.”
“You’re ignoring me,” Vahly said. “Listen. You know how your fire magic feels when the lightning rises for you in the clouds and your belly burns with power?”
Nix raised her face to the sky, a wistful expression painting her beautiful features. She sighed, smoke drifting from her nostrils, then met Vahly’s gaze with intense eyes. She remained silent and staring. Vahly did not flinch.
Nix rolled her eyes. “Fine. If you’re that sure. To the ocean we go, Earth Queen.”
Vahly looked to Arc, waiting for him to agree. What if he refused to help? Would the heart promise he made to her kill him? Her stomach twisted and her skin itched. She didn’t want her two closest advisors, her dearest friends, to be forced to agree with her.
Arc rubbed his hands roughly through his jet-black hair. “As you wish, my queen. But we will have to be quick.”
A weight off her shoulders, Vahly walked on. They followed. “Yes. Like spies. Nix trained me to be quick.”
“And you know how to swim?” Arc asked. “I have had plenty of chances to swim in freshwater in my homeland, but you—”
“I swam in the Silver River every summer day of my childhood,” Vahly said. “No worry on that end of things.”
“Accessing the ruins won’t be the same. Those currents are strong enough to drag you out to sea.”
A shiver gripped Vahly and shook her hard.
Nix nodded to Arc. “He’s right. I’m guessing you’ll want to do more than glance at the top of the cathedral and the guild house. You’ll need to dive deep and be under for a long time, Vahly.”
She hadn’t thought that through, but Nix was correct. Vahly tapped the hilt of her sword, thinking. “Nix, you can be our land watch, all right?”
“Definitely.”
“And Arc, you can use your air magic telepathy to talk to Nix as needed?”
“Not a problem.”
“But if we can’t stay under long,” Vahly said, “I can’t imagine us accomplishing much.”
Arc lifted his hands, eyes wide. “Ah! I know.”
“I’m all ears,” Vahly said.
“Was that an elf joke?” Arc raised a handsome eyebrow and wiggled one pointed ear.
Nix bumped his hip with hers and gave him a flirty grin. “Spill your idea, Master Alchemist.”
“I can use air magic to breathe underwater.” He spread a hand over his mouth to demonstrate. “Perhaps I can use the same power on you.”
Vahly shrugged as she stepped over a hill of busy ants beside a vine of dark purple flowers, flora never seen in Lapis territory. “I’m up for trying that.”
A square structure of pitted walls rose above the game trail. The humans had carved three small windows in the shape of oak leaves at the top of each wall. It looked like a watchtower, a spot that could oversee happenings on the surrounding high elevations as well as any disturbances at sea. As they passed the open doorway, Vahly glanced inside.
Sunlight streamed through the high windows and along what used to be a set of wooden stairs. Now, the wood showed only a railing and part of the landing at the top where the watchman would’ve stood. On the ground, vines grew from the remnants of a mosaic floor. Brown, black, and green tiles formed half of a human face. The sight stopped Vahly in her tracks. Her fingers latched onto the doorframe, her throat tightening. The subject of the mosaic had very blue eyes, not unlike her own. Near the image’s chin, a pile of dirt and a small sapling sprouted from something that could have been stones.
It was a skeleton. Ice ran down Vahly’s spine.
Arc and Nix silently followed her inside the tower, their quiet like a spell cast to freeze time.
Vahly held tight to the strap of her satchel, feeling the comforting weight of the egg. She crouched beside the skull. Why had this human died here? After all, they were above the sea. Shifting the plants crawling from the bones, she found the hilt of a dagger right where the heart would’ve been. Finger bones lay in small piles under the ribcage, perhaps where they had fallen from their grip on the hilt. The human had done this with her own hands. Chilled to the core, Vahly could almost feel the blade cutting through her own flesh.
Swallowing, she looked at Arc and Nix. They regarded her with solemn expressions. “This human saw the disaster. And killed herself.”
Arc pressed a hand against the skeleton’s femur and whispered something.
Nix touched Vahly’s shoulder. “Do you want to bury her?”
Vahly shook her head. Somehow, that didn’t feel right. Instead, she scooped a handful of earth and set it on the skull. Vahly closed her eyes. The earth’s heartbeat tapped her pulse points, and the ground trembled.
Nix sucked a loud breath. Arc whispered Vahly’s name as his boots scraped on the grit of the tower floor.
The earth had swallowed the bones, taking the mosaic design with it.
Earth magic.
A tingling spread through her, a wave of power that drove home the fact that she was indeed an Earth Queen.
Mind spinning, Vahly led Arc and Nix outside.
If she was headed into the sea, they needed backup. Amona would send a contingent of warriors if Vahly used the Call to ask. Vahly had hoped to keep this mission small, to avoid others tangling the situation, but it would be madness to go into this without more help.
The path wound down, down, down, and they followed its narrow bends and gentle turns to the water’s edge where black rocks crowded the coast and waves rolled over their glassy edges.
Nix stopped, wings twitching in agitation as she eyed the sea. She snarled, then seemed to force herself to walk to the edge of the rocky coastline to stand beside Arc and Vahly. The water couldn’t reach her from here unless the sea folk were around to spell it, but just the same, this
was a tough thing for a dragon to do.
Vahly wanted to say something to Nix, to thank her again for coming along, but she didn’t want to point out Nix’s weakness. Nix was obviously finding this situation frustrating enough without further attention brought to her shortcomings.
The wind—salty and inconsistent—bit at Vahly’s face as she stared over the flooded ruins of Bihotzetik. Vahly handed her satchel and the egg over to Nix. Nix shouldered the bag, ruffling her injured wing and wincing.
“I’m going to Call Amona,” Vahly said. “She can send a few warriors to help keep an eye on us while we’re down there.”
Nix turned one of her gold and lapis lazuli rings around her scaled finger. Her lips pinched, and she looked like she was ready to argue, but she nodded. “That would be wise. I can’t fly just yet.”
“Have you tried lately?” Vahly asked.
“Last night. I can do it. But not for long. And not very high.” The cost of admitting this was apparent on Nix’s face. Vahly wished there were more she could do to help her heal.
Beside them, Arc was already spinning shadows and light around his fingertips, weaving a spell. A fresh breeze lifted the ends of his hair. “I’ll cast the spell over you, Vahly. Then we can go into the sea for a brief moment to test its efficacy.”
Vahly shut her eyes and focused on Amona. My matriarch. I need you.
I am listening.
Vahly startled at the speed of her response. Thank you. I must go into the sea. Here in Bihotzetik. My magic won’t take no for an answer.
Amona’s silence had Vahly picturing her mother’s quirked eyebrow and crossed arms.
There is something in the city that I have to find or read or see, Vahly thought to Amona. I don’t want to do it, but Arcturus has magic to help me breathe and swim. We’ll be quick and careful. But I’d rather do it with a few of our Lapis warriors keeping watch with Nix.
I’ll take care of it. Wait for our arrival in three days’ time. We’ll meet at the most southern watchtower. I assume you have spotted the structure?
Band of Breakers Page 4
