by Sandell Wall
To Lacrael’s surprise, tears sprang to her eyes. She had not given any thought to her family in a long time. But to hear that they had come to such an ignominious end because of her filled her with a sense of shame and regret. If there had been any other way, she knew Garlang would have taken it.
Sadreed watched her closely. “This news saddens you.”
“I had friends there, and family,” Lacrael said. “Of course, it does.” She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Of course,” Sadreed said. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh.”
He looked like he was going to say more, but instead, he jerked himself upright as an idea came to him.
“By the blasted sands, I almost forgot!” Sadreed said. “Wait here, there’s something else I need to give you.”
Lacrael stood alone under the disapproving glares of Sadreed’s wives while she waited for him to return. She had no doubt these women weighed the cost of everything Sadreed gave away. Lacrael wished she had a way to repay them.
Sadreed reappeared with a small stone in his hand. He handed the object to Lacrael.
“An imperial guidestone,” Sadreed said. “You can’t navigate their hidden highways without it. The owner of the robe you’re wearing used it to escape; now you’ll use it to retrace her steps. It’ll glow when you're on the road. It’s the only way you’ll find the path through the miasma.”
“For what little it’s worth, you have my thanks,” Lacrael said. “I wish we had more to give.”
“It’s enough for me that a member of your tribe still goes free,” Sadreed said. “Carry on the memory of Garlang and his granddaughter for me, if you would.”
Lacrael looked up quickly from where she had been inspecting the guidestone. Sadreed had a twinkle in his eye. He could not know for sure, but he had guessed her identity.
“I didn’t know them, but at your request, I’ll honor their memory,” Lacrael said.
“That would make an old man happy,” Sadreed said.
With nothing more to say, Lacrael clasped hands with Sadreed and followed her companions out the door. Outside, the sun was climbing towards its midday pinnacle. The heat would soon be almost unbearable. Burning sand stretched in every direction, and on the far horizon, the foul shadow of the miasma lurked. This land was brutal, deadly, and unrelenting, but for the first time since arriving back in this realm, Lacrael felt like she had come home.
Chapter 13
SORRELL’S HEART WAS BURDENED. It had been five days since Kaiser spoke the words that wounded her, and in that time, she had not been able to let go of that pain. Rather than lessen as the days passed, it festered in her soul and worked itself into an anger that she was ashamed of. Kaiser had not meant to hurt her. He had only been honest, if oblivious, in comparing Sorrell to his dead wife. Sorrell knew this, but she still fumed.
They had been traveling for three days since leaving Sadreed’s village. At his advice, they had hiked parallel to the Ravening for the first day to avoid reentering it for as long as possible. But at the dawn of the second day, they were forced to turn their path back into the foul miasma.
Its shadow had slipped over them like the thunderheads of a gathering storm, a storm that never broke. Ethereal feelers of purple smoke caressed them as they walked. Sorrell shuddered every time the miasma reached for her. It was almost as if the corruption remembered them and welcomed them back into its embrace.
Kaiser had not said much since leaving the village. He was distracted by Tarathine, who he carried on his back with the help of a makeshift sling he had fashioned. Sadreed had given Kaiser medicine along with instructions for keeping Tarathine alive, and Kaiser worried over his daughter’s condition almost every waking moment.
However, while he was not speaking to anyone, Kaiser never strayed far from Sorrell’s side. She had not failed to notice that the other members of their small party had started to treat the three of them as a unit. It was no longer just Kaiser and Tarathine. It was now father, daughter, and Sorrell. This unspoken change only fanned the flames of her anger.
Since entering the Ravening again, Kaiser had started sleeping next to Sorrell. He moved a little closer each night. It was clear that in his mind some line had been crossed and their relationship had changed. Sorrell knew that he was expecting her to reciprocate his advances, but she could not bring herself to act.
Sorrell did not deny that the attraction for Kaiser was still there, but it had been buried deep down inside after his careless words to her. She refused to be a replacement for Mariel. The very thought made her sick. How could she ever trust that Kaiser cared for her or even saw her for who she was? He would always look at her and see his lost wife.
Not only was the idea offensive to Sorrell, but it was an insult to Mariel’s memory. How did Kaiser not see that? No one could replace what he had lost. Sorrell could not imagine that Mariel’s spirit would approve.
Kaiser was not the only one to have lost someone. Stone had been on Sorrell’s mind a lot the past few days. She had mourned his death and moved on. That was what a soldier did. And now, even though she carried Stone’s child inside her, Sorrell was ready to face the future instead of living in the past.
For two blessed days, Sorrell’s sickness had retreated. Whatever morning sickness she suffered was magnified by exposure to the miasma. In Sadreed’s village, like Gustavus, she had enjoyed a reprieve. Now, back in the Ravening, Sorrell’s ailments returned with a vengeance.
Every morning, she rose, vomited whatever meager meal she had eaten the night before, and started walking. It took every bit of strength Sorrell could muster to stay on her feet throughout the day. The others were not yet aware of how much she struggled, and if she could help it, they would not find out.
Bearing a child was not something Sorrell had ever anticipated. It was not that she did not want children someday; she had just never given it any thought. Her life had been consumed with her military career and her ambitions for the Coriddian throne. Now that it had happened, she was not disappointed by the prospect of being a mother, but she was terrified of carrying an unborn baby through this hostile realm. Before this, she had always been the master of her fear. But now, she had more than herself to worry about.
Every step further into the Ravening filled Sorrell with dread. Instinct screamed at her to find a safe place where she could protect the child in her belly. A place where she could give birth in peace and raise the baby without the constant threat of danger. But where could she go? In truth, her best chance, her only chance, was in the company she now kept. Sorrell felt helpless.
In moments of weakness, Stone’s face came to her unbidden. He was never sorrowful, and his presence did not upset her. Instead, he offered silent encouragement. Stone was the one person who had believed in her completely. He had never doubted her, no matter the challenge in front of her. And his memory did not doubt her now. As in life, his memory had complete confidence in her ability to overcome.
Sorrell smiled and wiped a tear from her eye as she walked. Even in death, Stone still lent her his strength. If the child she carried had even half of its father’s conviction, it would grow up to be formidable.
The future was uncertain, and Sorrell may never be able to return to her home, but she would find a way to survive. She would carve out a life for her and her child wherever they found themselves. If that meant seeing this quest to defeat Abimelech through, so be it. But in the end, they would be together. This was the only hope Sorrell had left.
This realization humbled her. In just a few short months, her destiny had changed forever. Gone was the political intrigue and designs to rule an empire. None of her companions knew her as an admiral or cared that she was of royal blood. In this place, she was only Sorrell. Under different circumstances, she might have found that liberating. But right now, it only served to remind her how much she had lost.
Sorrell’s thoughts were interrupted when Gustavus stumbled. He had been walking ahead
of her, clearly struggling to keep his feet, and he finally lost the battle. His left leg collapsed, and he sank to his knees in the sand. For the last two days since entering the miasma, Gustavus had stubbornly attempted to walk under his own power, but his sickness had returned, and his brief resurgence of good health had abandoned him.
Gustavus made no effort to get up. In a few short steps, Sorrell stood at his side. His labored breathing came in ragged gasps. The others noticed he had stopped. Niad called out to Kaiser, who glanced over his shoulder before calling a brief halt. It was clear from the expression on his face that Kaiser was not pleased about the delay.
“That’s it, that’s as far as I go,” Gustavus said between wheezes. “I’ve no more fight in me.”
Niad crouched in front of Gustavus. She pulled down the strip of cloth that covered her nose and mouth. The woman’s face was a mask of confidence, but Sorrell saw the cracks in Niad’s composure.
“Don’t talk like that, captain,” Niad said. “It’s only this damned smog that’s got you down. Why, just two days ago you were on the mend. Remember? Let Brant help you, and when we get free of this stuff, you’ll start to feel better again.”
Gustavus shook his shaggy head. “Don’t waste your breath. My soul is dried out. My bones ache for the open sea. This blasted land is a death sentence for those of us with salt water in our veins. Out here, I’m no better than a beached whale. It took three months, but my end was always inevitable. Let it come. Let me die in peace.”
Niad glanced up at Sorrell, a silent plea in her eyes. Sorrell had no idea what the woman expected her to do. The others had gathered around them but kept a respectful distance.
“Listen to yourself,” Niad said. “The captain I know, the captain I followed for years aboard the Golden Dawn, wouldn’t let something as trivial as a little sickness be the end of him. You’ve still got plenty of fight in you. What is it that you always used to tell me? ‘Trials maketh the man.’ This is your trial. Don’t quit now before you’ve seen it through to the end.”
“It took me months to understand, but that man died with his ship,” Gustavus said. “I’m no captain anymore. There’s no dawn coming that can banish this darkness. Look around you! This entire realm is given over to corruption. Life here is living hell. I’d rather die and be done with it.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Kaiser said. “Brant, pick him up and let’s go.”
“No!” Gustavus shouted. He flung himself to the sand. “I won’t be carried a step further. I’ve taken the last step I’ll take. Here I fall, and here I die. Allow me the dignity of choosing my own end.”
As if to punctuate his words, Gustavus was overcome by a coughing fit. He writhed on the ground as he fought to breathe.
Niad got to her feet and moved a few steps away. She stood with her back to Gustavus. Brant looked to Kaiser for instruction. Before anyone could speak, Sorrell knelt next to Gustavus’s head. His convulsions had subsided, and he lay with his face against the sand. His eyes were closed. He looked almost peaceful.
“The others don’t understand,” Sorrell said quietly. “Maybe Niad has a sense of it, somewhere deep inside, but the rest of them don’t know. They don’t have the sea in their blood. They don’t feel the pull of the depths. It’s like a weight on your heart that draws you towards the ocean. You can’t fight it. You can’t ignore it. Life demands you travel far and wide, and you walk on land and pretend you're like everyone else when you have to, but the truth is, nowhere else is home.
“There’s peace and purpose to be found out on the waves, an unspoken mystery that takes you into its story and makes you a part of it. Once you’ve become a creature of the ocean, her rhythms chart your destiny. And to be separated from it is to be cast adrift, left to die alone and forgotten.”
Gustavus had opened his eyes. He peered up at Sorrell, listening intently.
“But she doesn’t forget her children,” Sorrell said. “She’s waiting for you, calling you back like a mother who’s lost her beloved son. And she’ll take you back, no matter what you’ve done, and no matter who you’ve become. You can deny that part of yourself, but you and I both know you can’t escape it. You may have lost your ship, your health, and your future, but you’ll always be a sailor. And this is no place for a sailor to die. Get up, Gustavus. For no other reason than to honor the call of the sea, get up, and return home to her.”
Tears glistened on Gustavus’s cheeks. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and then another, before putting his hands beneath him and raising himself back up to his knees.
“Damnation, woman,” Gustavus said. “You make a man’s shriveled heart sing with that sort of talk.”
Sorrell could not help but crack a small smile.
Gustavus raised a hand and beckoned Brant over. “Come on then,” he said. “Take me back into your strong arms.”
“You don’t have to be weird about it,” Brant muttered as he moved close to Gustavus.
Soon, they were moving again. Sorrell resumed her position in the rear of their procession. She was still intentionally avoiding Kaiser, not that he seemed to notice. Niad dropped back to walk next to her.
“I heard what you said to him,” Niad said. “Thank you. I don’t think I could have got him moving again.”
“I had no idea it would resonate with him,” Sorrell said. “But I’m glad it did.”
“Is that stuff true, what you said about the sea being home?”
“I romanticized it a bit, but in truth, I feel much the way I described to Gustavus.”
“It’s funny. I feel the same way about the desert. Not the blighted dunes of the Ravening, but the true, untainted sand of a real desert. It’s home to me in a way that nothing else can be. I found a sort of kinship in the ocean, yet I always yearned for my true place. The place I belonged.”
“Strange, isn’t it, that where we’re from can become so intertwined with who we are?”
“Maybe, maybe not. I grew up with others who hated the desert. Not everyone appreciates their homeland. Perhaps you were always meant to love the sea, no matter where you were born.”
“Destiny, you mean.”
“That’s one word for it.”
Sorrell summoned her ice rapier into her hand and flourished it for Niad’s benefit.
“And this, is this destiny too?” Sorrell said.
“What else could it be?” Niad said.
“I don’t know. The sea is a part of me, and I’m a part of it. But this, I never wanted this.”
“In every story I’ve ever heard, the hero never gets to pick his destiny.”
“I don’t want to be a hero. I just want to be a mother.”
“Why not both?”
Sorrell frowned at this suggestion. She did not want to be both, but she did not seem to have a choice.
“I’d best go check on Gustavus,” Niad said. The other woman left Sorrell behind as she moved up to walk beside Brant.
They hiked for another few hours before the sun set. Sunlight struggled to penetrate the thick miasma, so nightfall was a gradual transition from daytime twilight to complete darkness. Traversing the rock-strewn dunes was too dangerous without light to guide them. They hunkered down next to an outcropping of stone to wait for the dawn.
Sorrell chose a sleeping spot that was near enough Kaiser and Tarathine that she did not appear to be separating herself from them, but far enough away that it was clear she wanted to rest alone. To her frustration, Kaiser ignored this clear signal.
Once he had removed Tarathine from her harness on his back and got her positioned in the sand, Kaiser crawled over to lie next to Sorrell. They stared up into the churning mist as it swallowed the last faint traces of sunlight. Sorrell waited, refusing to be the first to speak.
“I don’t know what I’ve done to anger you, but it’s clear you’re mad at me,” Kaiser finally said.
Sorrell did not respond, and Kaiser lapsed into silence.
After a few moments, Kaise
r tried again, this time with a new subject.
“That was good work with Gustavus today,” Kaiser said. “Despite appearances to the contrary, I’d have been saddened to leave him behind.”
Sorrell’s anger flared. Her face felt hot. This could not go on any longer. She had to tell Kaiser and damn the consequences.
“I’m pregnant,” Sorrell said.
The words hung in the darkness. Sorrell imagined they took on substance and shape. She imagined Kaiser inspecting them, analyzing them, and deciding what to do with them.
“What?” Kaiser finally said, his voice incredulous.
“My first lieutenant and I were lovers before… before Mazareem murdered him. I’m with his child,” Sorrell said.
“How long have you known?”
“About a week.”
“And when were you going to tell me?”
Sorrell heard the accusation behind his words. In Kaiser’s mind, she had been leading him on without being honest.
“I’m telling you now,” she said.
The silence stretched. Sorrell sensed Kaiser’s anger, even though she could not see him. Since he was going to be furious with her, she decided she might as well say what else was on her heart.
“I’m not Mariel,” Sorrell said. “I can’t replace her. No one can.”
“I know that,” Kaiser snapped.
“I’m asking you to not put that burden on me.”
“Consider it done.”
Sorrell heard Kaiser move away in the darkness. In response to her admission, the anger burning up inside her had cooled. Now, she only felt sadness. She knew Kaiser well enough by now to understand that he would be hurt and upset. He was overly sensitive to any mention of Mariel, and this was the first time Sorrell had ever dared bring up the topic of his deceased wife.
How Kaiser would react to the news of the child she carried, Sorrell had no idea. She assumed he would grapple with it for a time, which she could accept. But she hoped that he would come to see that it was out of both of their hands. In time, maybe they could go back to being friends.
