Daughters of Fire & Sea

by Holly Karlsson

  “It’s a shame you didn’t see Thenda before the Taint,” Meara said. “It was beautiful here.” Her face warmed, and she nodded at Kell. “You remember. The air was always fresh, the fish fat and savory.”

  It had been beautiful. Kell looked away from Meara’s joy-filled eyes and looked down at his lap. He laced his fingers together, squeezing until distracting pain rippled across the bones beneath his skin.

  Lyric, sitting beside him, tentatively laid her hand on his knee and squeezed softly.

  Kell looked at her, surprised and moved by the gesture. He unlaced his hands and covered hers with one of his own.

  I’m getting too used to this, he thought. Being cared for by someone.

  Runa’s voice drew his head back up to the conversation around the table.

  “Are we far from the border?” Runa asked.

  Kell looked at Meara. Considering where they were, he’d estimate the border was only a few days away unless the storms or the Taint had drastically changed the land.

  Meara eyed him, perhaps seeing if he’d speak up, but when he didn’t, she looked at Runa and answered. “I’d say a day and a half, perhaps two depending on your pace and the weather. After bad storms, it becomes nearly impossible to walk the beach without stepping on Tainted kelp and dead animals torn from the ocean. The storm tonight might stir things up, but it doesn’t sound bad yet. Do you agree, brine-born boy?” Meara asked suddenly.

  Kell blinked, his heart skipping. “Yes,” he said. “But it’s been a long time since I’ve walked the Shore.”

  Meara nodded. “Most everyone who survived left. I don’t blame you. It would have been hard here on a young lad like you.”

  Kell felt a flash of annoyance. He wasn’t a child, not anymore. He’d likely traveled farther than she ever had; seen things she could only dream about. Kell probably knew more of the world and yet … Meara had stayed. She hadn’t abandoned their home, hadn’t fled with the others.

  Anger slipping away, guilt rushed in, sharp and bitter. He deserved her disgust.

  “When was the last time you traveled to Ivernn?” Runa asked.

  Meara cracked her bony knuckles, looking thoughtful. “Right after the winter chill,” she said. “I missed my usual trip after hurting my leg. I’m fine now, but I’ll likely have to head north again in several weeks. There’s only so much gull meat you can eat before you crave something else.” She chuckled.

  “Is there anyone we can stay with along the way?” Lyric asked.

  “Beyn is about a day’s walk,” Meara said. “He lives close to the cliffs, out of the reach of the sea. I don’t know if he’s still there, but if he isn’t, you can take shelter in his house. Safer than risking the beach at night. I can send dried gull meat with you, and you’re welcome to as much water as you need.” Meara gestured at a barrel in the corner. “Gathered from the sky and purified with an old Oleporean method. I’m afraid I don’t have more to offer.”

  “That’d be wonderful, thank you,” Lyric said. “I know a way to purify seawater, but I’ve been afraid to try since we came across the algae.”

  Kell squeezed her hand, and Lyric glanced at him, smiling in a distracting way.

  Meara nodded. “Best to get water from the sky. No matter what spells you have, it’s not safe to take water from the sea. Not here.” She looked between Elaina, Lyric, and Runa.

  “Traveling here would be safer if you weren’t mages,” she said.

  Kell narrowed his eyes. What was Meara implying?

  Runa raised an eyebrow. “You’re a mage.”

  Meara smiled, an unreadable look in her pale eyes. “Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?” Runa demanded.

  Chuckling, Meara sipped from her cup. “Nothing sinister, dear girl. Knowing one or two spells doesn’t make you a mage. There’s skill involved — the ability to quickly pick up the language, and to understand how to create and not just repeat others’ spells. It took me quite a while to learn what I know.” She shrugged. “Maybe that’s what’s kept me safe from the creatures. They can’t sense the power in me since it’s just a trickle.”

  Meara glanced at Elaina. “You though, should be careful.”

  Kell thought about Elaina moving the four of them into the Veil and studied her face. She had to be strong to do something like that. Stronger than he’d realized. What might that mean for Lyric and Runa’s abilities, their potential? He’d been so sure the Daughters’ omen was for him, but what if it was Lyric who was in danger? She didn’t know her power yet.

  Lyric pulled her hand away to drink her tea, and Kell shifted his hands back into his lap, heart racing.

  “We’ll be careful and find shelter before nightfall,” Elaina said. “If we find Beyn’s home, we’ll stay there.”

  Meara nodded. “Good,” she said. She eyed Elaina over the rim of her cup. “How did you end up south of the Shore, on the other side of the marshes?”

  Kell’s heart skipped, and he looked at Elaina.

  “We were traveling with some merchants who, regrettably, were less than honorable,” Elaina said. She shared a grim look with Runa, who looked appropriately outraged. “The plan was to take the Northern Road, but as you can see … we had to adapt. My girls are safe though, that is all that matters.” She eyed Meara, a challenging look in her eyes.

  Lyric cleared her throat. “Can we stay with you tonight?” she asked.

  Kell knew Meara wouldn’t refuse, not after feeding them, and indeed, the old woman nodded.

  “Of course, my dear. I’m sorry for your misfortune and pray that the remainder of your journey will be swift. I don’t have spare beds, but you’re welcome to sleep here, wherever you like.” Meara gestured about the room. “It’s warm, and nothing comes in that I don’t allow.”

  Kell thought back to her statement about magic and wondered what, if anything, she’d be able to do if one of the creatures did break through.

  A window shutter rattled, and Kell glanced at it feeling unsettled. Just the wind, he told himself. He looked at the curve of Lyric’s cheek. How would he protect her without his staff? He’d lost two in such a short time. If their situation weren’t so worrying, he’d have laughed out loud.

  “My bones are telling me to sleep,” Meara said. She groaned as she pushed herself up out of the rocking chair.

  Elaina, Runa, and Lyric stood and began to clear their dishes.

  Standing, Kell curled his fingers around the table’s edge. “Maybe we can move the table, make room on the floor to sleep?” he suggested.

  Meara nodded her assent.

  Returning to help, Elaina, Runa, and Lyric helped Kell shift the table towards the door, blocking it. They moved the benches out of the way beneath it, clearing a space in the center of the room.

  When Kell turned back around, he saw that Meara was adding wood to the stove. She closed the heavy door and turned the wire-wrapped handle, then took a lantern from a hook on the wall.

  “May your dreams be light,” Meara said. She opened the door beside the cabinet and stepped into a small room. Kell briefly glimpsed a narrow bed before she closed the door behind her.

  Elaina and Runa began to prepare themselves for bed, and Kell looked for a place to sleep. He picked a spot on the floor farthest from the stove, leaving the warmest areas for the women, and sat.

  Lyric moved towards him, watching with bright eyes as he shifted his cloak around his shoulders. Kell looked up at her, unsure if he should wait to lay down.

  “I noticed that Meara isn’t silenced like you,” Lyric said softly, squatting beside him.

  A chill skittered across Kell’s back, and he nodded, trying to keep his mind clear of Salta’s destruction. “Yes,” he said.

  “Why you, and not others?” Lyric asked. Her brow furrowed as she studied Kell’s face. “Might others have also witnessed what you did?”

  “I don’t know,” Kell said. “I — I left right after it happened.”

  “Why did you?” Lyric asked
. She made a face and put a hand on his arm. “I mean, I think I understand but —”

  “Why did I leave when others chose to stay?” Kell asked. His chest tightened, and he looked at his hands, clenching and unfurling his long fingers. “I was scared,” he said, after a moment. He didn’t like how small his voice sounded or how helpless he felt. “I had no one; everything was in chaos, I … I stumbled upon a merchant several hours north of the city. He’d seen the aftermath, a big flash of something far away. He took me with him to Corsicayna. I knew my mother had studied at the Radiant Hall before she met my father, so I sought shelter there.”

  Lyric nodded, a lock of hair slipping across her face.

  Distracted, Kell reached out and brushed her cheek, smoothing her hair between his fingers. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly. If he focused on her, on her eyes and her smile, he didn’t have to think about the past.

  Lyric flushed and ducked her head but didn’t pull away.

  Someone cleared their throat, and Kell jerked back, looking away from Lyric with a startled expression.

  Elaina was staring at them, her face displeased, her hands on her hips. “Maybe you should sleep next to Runa by the fire,” she said to Lyric.

  “Mama …” Lyric said. She stood, back straightening, the flush in her cheeks darkening in color. “I’m not —”

  “I’ll sleep here,” Elaina said. Shuffling Lyric to the side, Elaina spread out her cloak on the floor next to Kell and laid down, turning her back to him.

  Lyric bristled, and her eyes narrowed.

  “It’s not worth it,” Runa called from beside the stove.

  Lyric glanced at her sister, then at Kell and gave him an embarrassed smile. “Goodnight, Kell,” she said.

  “Goodnight,” Kell said, smiling back. He watched her as she stepped over Elaina, and spread her cloak next to Runa.

  Glancing at Elaina’s back, Kell laid down facing the door. He stared at the table and benches that blocked it and wondered how much resistance they’d provide against anything intent on coming inside.

  We’re safe, he told himself. Lyric is safe.

  12

  Lyric

  Lyric woke to the familiar sounds of someone preparing for the day. Was she back home? “Mama?” she asked, blinking groggily at the woman standing in front of the stove. No, that wasn’t right, their mother had left her and Runa alone.

  An old woman looked back at her, her wrinkled face stretching into a smile. She was not Elaina. “Just me,” she said. “Meara. I’m heating water. I trust you slept well?”

  Lyric blinked. “Yes,” she said, remembering the evening before. She’d laid down beside her sister, said goodnight to Kell and then —

  Runa groaned and sat bolt upright, her eyes snapping open. Her red hair was tangled from sleep, and as she swiftly eyed the room, she tugged at it with an irritated look. “Thenda,” she pronounced. “The house.”

  Meara chuckled and turned back to the pot of water.

  “Here,” Lyric said, smiling. She turned Runa with a touch to her shoulder and began untangling her sister’s hair with gentle fingers.

  Glancing backward as she combed the knots from Runa’s hair, Lyric saw both Kell and their mother were awake and gathering up their cloaks. Neither looked rested. Lyric smiled at Kell when he looked at her, earning a beautiful, sleep-edged smile in response. His hair was rumpled and stuck out on one side, and she grinned as he attempted to smooth it back down.

  “Ow,” Runa complained.

  “Oh, sorry,” Lyric said, looking back at her hands in Runa’s hair.

  “It’s fine,” Runa said, pulling away. “Now you, unless you’re hoping to attract a family of birds.”

  Lyric stuck out her tongue and turned around. She winced as Runa plaited her hair. Her sister wasn’t very gentle, but it only took her a few minutes to weave Lyric’s hair into two fishtail braids.

  Flipping the ends over Lyric’s shoulders, Runa stood and grabbed her cloak off the floor.

  Lyric followed her, and together, with Kell and Elaina, they moved the table and benches back to the center of the room, then refilled their waterskins at Meara’s barrel.

  “I have tea, biscuits, and gull meat,” Meara said, setting the table. “I’m sorry it’s simple. I’m nearly out of flour, and I ate the rest of my tubers the day before you arrived.”

  “We don’t want to clear you out,” Lyric said, feeling guilty. “We have some dried fish that we caught farther south where the water is clean.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about me,” Meara said, smiling. “Your company means a lot to this lonely old woman. Keep the meat for your travels. Unless you catch a gull, it’s the only food you’ll have. You’ll be on your own until Ivernn if Beyn has left his home.”

  Lyric nodded and sat down at the table opposite Meara and their mother. Kell, briefly touching her shoulder, sat down on her left, and Runa on her right.

  “How do you catch the gulls?” Runa asked, immediately reaching for tea.

  “Nets mostly,” Meara said. “They sometimes land on my balcony to rest.” She grimaced. “I feel bad for them, but I have to eat.”

  “Have you had any other visitors?” Elaina asked.

  “Just Beyn,” Meara said, “but that was last winter.”

  Half a year without seeing another person’s face? Lyric thought. How had she survived the loneliness?

  “Don’t feel sorry for me,” Meara said, eyes twinkling. “I like my solitude.”

  “I wish we could bring supplies back to you,” Lyric said. She thought about the old woman traveling the Shore alone. Meara seemed strong and resourceful, but if anything bad happened there’d be no one to help her.

  Meara laughed and flapped a hand in the air. “Oh, no, no,” Meara said. “Thank you for the kind proposal, but if you manage to reach Raendashar, I heartily encourage you never to travel this way again.” She glanced at Elaina. “Be more mindful of the caravans you travel with and stick to the Northern Road on the other side of the Waste, or hire a boat.”

  “What is the Waste?” Runa asked.

  Lyric glanced at Meara, her curiosity piqued. She’d seen a few maps of Erith back home, but they’d been old and tattered, the information of the lands outside Kaliz limited and likely no longer accurate.

  Meara glanced sharply at their mother, and Lyric remembered the story Elaina had told the night before about the caravan. They’d supposedly meant to travel the Road. Should they be familiar with the Waste? Did Meara now suspect that Elaina lied?

  “It’s a barren strip of land on the other side of the cliffs,” Kell said, his voice distracted. “Closer to Oleporea, it turns to forest on the other side of the marshlands, but up here it’s just empty land. No one’s certain why nothing grows there, at least that’s what my father told me.”

  “Yes,” Meara said, eyes narrowed on Elaina. “It follows the cliff-line up to where Thenda ends and Raendashar begins. I’m guessing it was one reason our ancestors built our cities in the cliffs along the beach, and not further inland. Well that, and that the Sea was always plentiful here before the Taint.”

  “We traveled by boat,” Elaina said to Meara. “The girls haven’t seen the Road.” Her eyes were cautious as she looked at Lyric and Runa. “The Road separates Thenda and Jaina. It’s quite desolate. Before the Taint, travelers preferred the coastline to following the Waste. You would have seen it if we hadn’t had troubles with the merchant.”

  “Yes,” Meara said, nodding.

  “This is nothing like back home,” Lyric said absently, thinking of the forests and snow-capped mountains surrounding Elae’s Hollow.

  “Home?” Meara asked.

  Lyric’s heart jumped into her throat, and she looked up, her eyes flicking to Elaina.

  “Oleporea,” Elaina said. “This is the first time the girls have traveled farther than Seave.” She smiled indulgently.

  Lyric glanced down at her tea, hoping Meara took the discomfort on her face for embarrassment.
She’d never been the best liar.

  Elaina pushed aside her plate and stood up, indicating it was time to leave. “Thank you, Meara, for letting us stay the night,” she said, “and for feeding us.”

  Lyric stood automatically and began to clear the table. “Thank you for taking us in, Meara,” she said. She smiled at Meara gratefully.

  Meara nodded. “My pleasure. I hope your journey will be safe and swift.”

  “Yes, thank you, Meara,” Runa echoed, walking to the door to retrieve her pack.

  Kell gave a Thendian farewell, something about the wind and fat fish, but Lyric was too distracted to pay attention.

  Following after her sister, Lyric stopped by the door and adjusted her cloak, glancing sideways at Runa. Her sister was frowning, her lips soundlessly moving as if she were having a conversation with the wall. Was Runa talking to Elenora? About what? Lyric recalled Gandara’s tattoos and long white hair. Did Elenora look similar, or more like Elaina and Runa with red hair? Was she old, like Gandara, or had she died young? How did she dress?

  Gandara’s warning about Runa came to Lyric’s mind, and she shifted uneasily. Was it possible that Elenora was telling her sister the same thing; warning her that Lyric could become dangerous? Had she encouraged Runa to distance herself? Were their ancestors, Raendasharan and Sireni as they were, trying to drive a wedge between them?

  Runa turned, her face irritated, and caught Lyric staring at her. Something dark flashed inside her eyes.

  Lyric smiled uncertainly, unsure of how to act. Was her sister irritated or angry? She couldn’t sense Runa’s emotions. A gulf lay open between them, and for one terrifying moment, Lyric thought she’d lost her sister. Terror and grief crashed over her. She was alone, she was —

  Runa shook her head and scraped her fingers through her hair, tousling the long red strands, then stomped over to Lyric.

  “Are you well?” Lyric asked, her heart skipping. She resisted the urge to grab Runa’s arm.