Daughters of Fire & Sea

by Holly Karlsson

  “Often enough that you can find the services you need if you know where to look,” Elaina said. She looked at Runa. “A friend of mine discovered that a pair of Sireni Screamers brought a girl’s body into the Veil. It fit your description. We need to talk to her, find out if she’s located where they are.” Their mother looked between the three of them. “We need to buy food, supplies.”

  “Supplies?” Lyric asked. “How long will we stay here?” She stared away into the dark. “Does anything grow here?”

  “Not a lot,” Elaina said. She looked at the compass with a distracted expression. “Let’s go. You can resume your interrogation later.” She gave Runa a half smile, but Runa just stared at her until she looked away.

  Lyric moved up beside her. “Be nice,” she whispered. “She came back, Ru. Doesn’t that mean something?”

  Runa scowled. Did it? Could they move past everything? Especially now, knowing their mother had been alive? Had Lyric forgotten how hard the past four years had been?

  “This way,” Elaina said, unaware of Runa’s thoughts. She shot a glance backward, catching the three of them with her enigmatic eyes, and then without waiting for confirmation, set off at a brisk pace.

  Runa had no choice but to follow.

  4

  Lyric

  It was strange walking in the dark. Without the moon or stars overhead, Lyric couldn’t shake the thought that they were deep underground, leagues of dirt and stone between them and the surface. The darkness surrounding her was absolute, and the weak glow of the light-orb over her head could not ease Lyric’s sense of being trapped. She saw no outlines of trees or hills. No sign of life. Was there an end to the darkness? Would she find the unseen horizon if they walked far enough?

  Lyric felt vulnerable and exposed, but there was also a curiosity inside of her, thready like the light, that wondered what the dark concealed. If the old stories were true, then the goddess Hel, one of the Trinity, had created the Veil and the Underworld and placed it into the hands of two demigods, Valen and Velaine. Were they here somewhere? Were the Old Ones, the dragons?

  “What are you thinking?” Kell asked.

  His voice was so close that Lyric squeaked, nearly jumping out of her skin. She flushed, hoping Kell couldn’t see her face clearly in the dim light. “Dragons,” she said. Her voice came out broken, pitched high, and she cleared her throat. “I was wondering if they’re here somewhere.” She looked up at Kell, who drew even with her, his long legs matching her stride.

  He didn’t look like the hale young men from her valley, all rough edges with broad, sun-browned faces and arms thick from felling trees and plowing fields. There was an elegance about him, as though an artist had sculpted his face. He’d looked made, not born or steeled by hours in the sun.

  Kell smiled, his sun-lightened hair shifting across one eye. “Ah, your ancestors.”

  Lyric blinked. “My ... it seems so ridiculous.” She laughed, unsure if she believed it. If their mother was from Raendashar, then Lyric also had dragon blood. Was that possible? Her blood was as red as anyone’s, and she certainly wasn’t immune to fire. A dragon would be invulnerable to flame, wouldn’t it? Why not its kin? “I’d never considered it,” Lyric said, shaking her head. “I can’t do magic.”

  “How would you know?” Kell asked.

  Lyric supposed Kell's question was a fair one. How would she know? Just because she wasn’t shooting sparks from her fingertips, didn’t mean that she lacked magic. She’d never actually tried a spell. Books on magic weren’t accessible in Kaliz, especially not in Elae’s Hollow. “True,” she admitted, smiling. “Maybe Mama will teach me.” Lyric glanced at their mother’s straight back and watched her shoulder-length red hair sway across her shoulders.

  No, it was unlikely that their mother would teach her. She’d kept her ancestry from them, told them they were alone in the world. If all her actions stemmed from the desire to protect her and Runa, she’d try to keep them as far from magic as possible.

  “I think they are here, somewhere,” Kell said, interrupting her thoughts. “The Old Ones.”

  “Really?” Lyric resisted the urge to peer off into the darkness around them. A dragon was not sitting out there watching them pass.

  Kell nodded. “You know about the Demon War, right? How the demigods left to follow the Trinity to the Beyond?”

  “Yes,” Lyric said, “and then the Three, the dragons, created the High Council to maintain peace across Erith.” Despite her isolation in Elae’s Hollow, she had been taught the histories of their world.

  “Yes, and after they ruled for several hundred years, they created the Human Council and left.”

  “Not to follow the Seven? Or the Trinity?” Lyric asked.

  “No, they retreated to the Veil,” Kell said. “They didn’t desire to abandon Erith completely. They wanted to be able to return if there was a need.” He smiled. “At least that’s what the stories say. Sometimes we can’t be sure what is a myth and what is true history.”

  “I wonder what would bring them back?” Runa asked, on the other side of Lyric. Her voice was muted, as though she hadn’t meant to pose the question aloud.

  “Not the Taint,” Kell said, his own voice low, unsettled.

  Lyric glanced at him. “The what?”

  A faint flush darkened his cheeks. “The poison released during Thenda’s destruction. Whatever happened, tainted the ground, the water.”

  Lyric’s eyes dropped to the mark on his neck. “I knew everyone died, almost everyone, but the Taint is new to me.” She looked at Runa, meeting her sister’s frown.

  “Maybe one country is a small thing to the Old Ones,” Kell said, slowly. “Perhaps if it’d destroyed the entire eastern coast, or if the Taint had spread …”

  “Has it?” Runa asked.

  Kell’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know. I’ve returned to Thenda only once. If the Taint has spread to Raendashar, or south to Oleporea, we should have heard of it. I’ve seen no signs in Chianseia or Jaina.”

  “It hasn’t spread to Raendashar,” Elaina said ahead of them.

  Lyric glanced at their mother’s back. At the house, Kell said his tattoo stopped him from talking about what happened in Thenda, but who had given it to him and why? What sort of mage was powerful enough to physically silence him? Powerful enough that no one even knew what caused the destruction or how to fix it? Why was it still a secret?

  “What do you remember the day Thenda was destroyed?” Lyric asked Kell. She studied his face, watching as his jaw tightened and his eyes grew dark. He seemed frustrated and angry, but also sad.

  “I remember the morning,” Kell said. “I remember being with my mother in Salta. She was agitated, she wanted to leave, but my father … my father wanted to enjoy the celebration. It was the seventh night of Daemonia and the capital was filled with people.

  “I got lost, and ended up in the catacombs. I had some kind of sweet in my hand, my fingers were sticky, and I was calling for my mother. Then I …” He stopped, the cords tightening in his neck, and put a hand against the side of his head.

  “What’s wrong?” Lyric asked, worried.

  “I …” Kell swallowed and touched his throat, fingers splayed over the skin. “It’s blank, after that. I remember later, the chaos, the screams … but I can’t …” He winced and shook his head. “What happened after ... I can’t talk about what I remember, not without …” His voice was tight, and Lyric put a hand on his arm. “Without pain.”

  “You remember before, and after,” Runa said, “but not the actual event? Not what happened. Not who was there beyond your parents.”

  Kell looked ahead, at Elaina’s back. “Yes.”

  “So someone caused it,” Runa said. “Accidentally or purposefully. Someone is responsible.”

  Horror crawled across Lyric’s back on spidery legs, and she shivered. She stared at Kell with sympathy and dismay, trying to imagine what it felt like surviving something so horrible. His family had died th
ere. He was alone.

  A fierce desire to punish whoever had hurt him burned inside her heart, and she reached for Kell’s hand without thinking, twining her fingers through his.

  He seemed surprised when she touched him, his eyes clearing, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, Kell’s fingers tightened on hers. His hand was cold, and there were calluses on his fingers.

  Lyric’s chest tightened, and her cheeks flushed as heat slid down her neck. She’d never held a man’s hand before, not in this way. She wanted to smile, beam foolishly, but the horror still lingering in the air and the look on Kell’s face brought her back to the moment. Lyric swallowed, and a chill settled inside her.

  “Why Thenda?” Runa asked suddenly.

  Lyric glanced at her sister’s face. Runa was frowning in concentration. Mysteries always sparked her interest; especially if they involved someone being abused.

  “I don’t know,” Kell said. He sighed angrily. “Thenda was peaceful.” He glanced again at Elaina, and Lyric narrowed her eyes. What did their mother have to do with all of this? With Kell? She was so focused on her thoughts that she nearly plowed into her when Elaina stopped suddenly.

  Kell prevented Lyric from stepping on her mother’s heels with a tug on her hand. She looked up at him, lips parted, and he grinned sideways at her.

  “Ow,” Runa said. She bumped into their mother’s shoulder.

  Glancing back at Runa, Elaina smiled and shoved the compass into her belt pouch. “We’re here,” she said.

  Lyric blinked, looking ahead of them. A shimmering, purple haze diffused the darkness. Rocks and sand were visible beyond the film, but they rippled, as though she were viewing the landscape through a veil.

  “We’re where?” Runa asked.

  “The waystation,” Elaina said. “Everyone hold on to me.”

  Lyric reached for their mother’s shoulder, along with Kell.

  Runa, surprisingly, accepted their mother’s hand. Elaina seemed startled by it as well, and she looked at Runa longingly. Drawing in a breath Elaina nodded and took a step forward, carrying them with her.

  The darkness vanished, and Lyric blinked in the sudden change in light. They stood inside a large room with paneled walls and a black wood floor polished to a near mirror-like sheen. The light was coming from lanterns, dangling on crystalline chains above their heads and along the walls.

  “It’s purple,” Lyric said aloud. Fascination buzzed along her skin. “The flames are purple!”

  Kell murmured something beside her, but Lyric was too distracted to hear what he said. She looked around, taking in the rest of the room.

  The waystation was similar to the inn back home, with tables and benches, and a bar along the wall to her left. Shadowy, curtain-draped booths filled three of the corners, one currently being serviced by a dark-haired boy holding a tray. Sitting empty against another wall was a large stone fireplace beneath a trio of three, dented shields. Despite the lack of fire, the room was warm.

  Less than ten people were scattered around the room in clusters of twos and threes. They were cloaked and turned their faces away so Lyric couldn't see their features. Who were they, she wondered? Why were they here?

  Elaina walked towards the bar, and Lyric followed, distractedly letting go of Kell’s hand.

  A large woman, with a shaved head and a long, uneven scar puckering her left cheek, nodded at them as they approached. “Dandashara,” she said, addressing their mother. “Good to see you again.”

  Lyric raised her eyebrows. Dandashara? How many names did their mother have?

  “Galgosha!” Elaina said, her voice rich with pleasure. “Got any of that Fendriaken wine, I love so much?”

  “I always keep a bottle or two around.” The bartender, Galgosha, grinned, showing small, purple-stained teeth. She reached beneath the counter and withdrew a squat, ugly bottle, filled with a viscous liquid that looked like ink.

  Lyric moved up beside their mother, eyeing the bottle and the large woman curiously. Standing next to Elaina as she was, she caught the grin that crossed their mother’s face as she slapped an odd, triangle-shaped piece of iron on the bar top. It was a roguish grin, one Lyric had never seen on their mother’s face before.

  Galgosha palmed the iron coin and eyed Lyric, Kell, and Runa, then placed four glasses on the counter beside the bottle.

  “Traveling with companions again, Dandashara? Did you tell them about what happened with the —”

  “Always good to see you, Gal,” Elaina said, cutting her off with a broad wink. “Did you find the location I asked for?”

  Galgosha shook her head, looking regretful. “They’re careful. No magic since they entered.”

  Elaina grimaced and nodded. “If the Supplier makes an appearance, can you send them over?”

  “Will do,” Galgosha said. She grinned and saluted.

  Grabbing the bottle and two of the glasses, Elaina headed towards one of the curtained corners.

  Lyric grabbed the remaining two glasses and shared a confused look with her sister. Based on the expression on Runa’s face, if she’d started to soften towards their mother after their earlier conversation, that feeling had passed.

  Hesitating, Lyric turned back to the bartender. “Excuse me,” she said, “do you have any bandages or burn ointment? My mother’s arm was burned.”

  Galgosha’s eyes flickered, and she reached under the bar. “Here,” she said, setting a small box on the counter. “Remind her a sick wolf is a dead one,” Galgosha said, nodding at Elaina’s back.

  Lyric raised an eyebrow. “All right,” she said, though she didn’t understand. “Thank you.” Smiling goodbye, she handed the glasses to Kell, and picked up the box, then followed their mother towards the booth she’d chosen.

  Kell, moving ahead of Lyric and Runa, held back the curtain so they could slip inside after Elaina. Runa instead picked the curved bench on the left, but she didn’t move far enough in for Lyric to sit beside her. Resisting the urge to pinch her sister, Lyric slid in on the side by their mother, scooting down to make room for Kell.

  Smiling, he sat down beside her, laying an arm on the back of the bench, and Lyric tried not to get distracted when his leg pressed against hers.

  Elaina made a noise and Kell shifted abruptly, breaking the contact.

  “Here,” Lyric said, sliding the box toward their mother. “For your arm.”

  “Dandashara?” Runa asked. A predatory glint shone in her eyes.

  Their mother pursed her lips and, shifting the box to the side, unstoppered the wine bottle. She poured the thick liquid into one glass, then eyed Lyric and Runa, and filled the other three. Setting the bottle back onto the table, Elaina lifted her glass and emptied it. When she set the cup back down, the pressure of her fingers pressing against the bubbled glass created a soft popping sound.

  “I’ve had to be many people these past four years,” Elaina said. “Dandashara …”

  “And Marleena?” Lyric asked. She looked between Kell and her mother. “How do you know each other?”

  “We met in Caynford,” Kell said. “On the border of Raendashar and Chianseia.” He looked at Elaina, as though seeking permission.

  Elaina sighed. “I asked him to come here,” she said.

  Betrayal hit like a fist to Lyric’s chest. She breathed in, the breath jagged and unsteady, and looked at Kell. His eyes were guilty, and she flushed as she looked away, angrily reaching for one of the filled glasses. Lyric knew it was ridiculous to feel anything about him. She didn’t know Kell, but the idea that he’d found her because Elaina asked him to, and not because he’d been interested in her story bothered her.

  Lyric flushed again and dumped the wine into her mouth. It burned, the taste sharp and strange, and she coughed, slamming the cup onto the table harder than she intended. She felt a cool hand on her back and knew it was Kell’s and her face heated again.

  Thankfully Runa spared her from further embarrassment and drew away Kell and Elaina’s attention with
a question. “Why?” she asked. “Why ask Kell to find us? Are you even a songsmith?”

  Lyric looked up, eyes watery as she peered through her tangled hair. Runa was staring at Kell with a pointed, suspicious look.

  “I am a songsmith,” Kell said. He sounded honest, earnest.

  “He is,” Elaina said. “I asked him to protect you. I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to come myself, and I knew the Sireni were looking for you.” Guilt flashed across her face. “I thought you might trust him more easily than a sellsword.”

  Straightening, Lyric tucked her hair behind her ears. She risked a look at Kell. “Why come?” she asked.

  “Did she pay you?” Runa asked, her voice sharp.

  Kell angled his body towards Lyric. His eyes were bright, apologetic. “Your mother helped me, saved me actually, so when she asked for my help, I agreed,” he said, speaking to Lyric alone. It seemed important to him that she believed him, forgave him. “She thinks she can help me. I told you how I couldn’t remember …” His hand lifted to his throat, his fingertips brushing the tattooed skin. “I don’t remember how my mother or my father died. If we remove the spell, maybe …” His voice trailed off, and Lyric saw hope and desire spiral inside his eyes. The desire to know.

  She resisted the urge to touch his face and looked back at Elaina. “You can do that?” Lyric asked. Could their mother remove a silencing spell? But if that were possible, why hadn’t she already helped Kell?

  “No,” Elaina said, shaking her head. Her eyes caught on Kell’s arm behind Lyric’s back, and Lyric felt him pull it down into his lap.

  “I can’t, but my father…” Elaina paused, her face tightening. “My family has collected magical tomes for centuries. Our private library is one of the finest in the world. If a record exists on how to remove Kell’s spell, my father has it.” A warning entered their mother’s eyes. “You need to realize that your grandfather is a dangerous man.” She stared at Lyric and Runa, her face tight and severe. “He’s used dark magic before, releasing a plague on a Sireni ship. If he’d had more time, training, it might have spread; it might have …” She pushed her cup away, reaching for the bottle. “He was involved with Thenda. I can feel it in my bones.”