Daughters of Fire & Sea

by Holly Karlsson

Searching the black stone with narrowed eyes, Runa spotted a thin trail winding snake-like to the top. “There,” she said, pointing. “There are buildings up there. This must be Ivernn.”

  Lyric kneeled next to Kell and put a hand on his shoulder then checked Elaina’s breathing. She leaned her cheek over their mother’s mouth, listening for a long moment before looking up at Runa.

  “She’s weaker,” Lyric said. Her voice was distant.

  "Just a little farther, Kell," Runa said, trying to sound encouraging. She hadn’t thought him strong enough to carry Elaina as long as he had, and yet here he was, struggling once more to his feet, teeth gritted, the tendons in his neck taut beneath the skin.

  Together, arms around each other, they climbed the trail, each step agonizingly slow. Once they reached the top, Kell shuffled to a large flat stone and collapsed onto it.

  Lyric scrambled next to him and caught Elaina’s shoulders, steadying her limp body across Kell’s lap. “You can set her down,” Lyric said.

  “No,” Kell gasped. “I’ll be unable to pick her up again.”

  Runa looked around. The trail opened up into a long street, bracketed by small houses of dark gray wood. She could see more buildings beyond it, the small town stretching in a long line.

  “I’ll find help,” Runa said, looking at Lyric and Kell.

  Lyric looked up, her eyes moving over Runa’s face and body. “You look frightful,” she said.

  “Good.” Runa bared her teeth in a grim smile. “They’ll know I’m serious.” She shoved her hair behind her ears and was about to take a step forward but paused, looking back at her sister. Healing was never free, and she had no money or anything with which to barter. “Give me mother’s bag,” she said, crouching beside Lyric.

  Lyric, raising an eyebrow, slipped the pack from her shoulders and handed it to Runa. She watched as Runa opened it and shifted around the contents.

  “Are you looking for money?” Lyric asked. “It’d be in her belt, wouldn’t it?”

  Runa, fingers passing over a small leather journal, nodded without looking up. “Check there too.” Besides Lyric’s empty pack and the journal, Runa found several pieces of dried fish, a small figurine carved from black stone, a bundle of tightly rolled clothes, a silky letter sealed with black wax, flint and steel, a waterskin, and soap. “Nothing useful,” Runa said, shoving everything back inside.

  “Here,” Lyric said.

  Runa set down Elaina’s pack and looked up, accepting a small leather pouch from Lyric. She shifted it in her hand and heard the clink of metal.

  “There’s some gold in there,” Lyric said, eyes wide. “We should be able to pay for healing.”

  Runa nodded.

  “And she had this,” Lyric said. She lifted a fabric-covered bundle from her lap and peeled back a corner of the wrapping. A pendant glinted in the sunlight, a gorgeous stone of red and orange. Finely-spun gold cradled the large gem and twisted across its surface in the intricate shape of a dragon’s head.

  “A Dragon Eye stone,” Kell breathed, staring at it with wide eyes. “Do you know what that’s worth?”

  Runa felt her mouth go dry as she stared at the necklace. A strange hunger rose in her chest, stirring like a thing waking. “Cover that up,” she said quickly. Runa looked around them suspiciously, worried someone had seen it.

  Rewrapping the pendant, Lyric returned it to one of the pockets on Elaina’s belt. “We can’t sell this, obviously,” she said. “This must be important to mama.”

  Runa nodded and tried to clear her head. She would never have imagined their mother owning such a treasure, but Elaina was the daughter of a king, wasn’t she? The necklace might be but a bauble to the royalty of Raendashar, one that could feed an entire village over the winter.

  “The money should be enough,” Runa said, tightening the pouch’s drawstrings. “I’ll get help. Stay here.”

  Lyric and Kell both nodded.

  Runa strode into town. She passed the first house without stopping. It felt neglected, the closed door warped and covered by an old fishing net.

  In the doorway of the second house, just past, an old man stood framed in the door. Runa veered towards him, raising her hand. “I need help!” she called. “My mother is injured and —”

  Mumbling something she couldn’t hear, the old man backed into the house, shaking his head. He pulled the door shut as she stepped onto the front step.

  Blinking in surprise, Runa moved to the next house. She caught sight of a face in the window and strode towards it, scowling as a pale hand yanked the curtain closed.

  “Help!” Runa yelled, pounding on the door. “I need a healer! Please, my mother — help me! Do you have one here? Tell me where to go!” She pounded again, the wood scraping her fist, but whoever was inside didn’t answer.

  Hissing in frustration, Runa kicked the door with her foot and spun away, continuing up the street. She knocked on the closed doors of two more houses, receiving no answer, and was passing another when she saw the ruined foundation of a house that seemed to have recently burned to the ground. She hesitated in the street, staring at it with confusion. What had happened here?

  Unimpeded by the blackened ruins, the wind rushed at her from the sea beyond. It yanked her cloak over her shoulder and filled her nose with the smell of old smoke and brine. Slapping at the fluttering fabric, Runa continued, passing a blacksmith’s shop. Like the houses, the smithy was closed, the forge cold; an old sign creaked in the wind, making her wince.

  “Where is everyone?” Runa growled. “Help!” she yelled, turning slowly. A bird crying overhead was the only response she received.

  At the end of the street, Runa caught sight of what could only be an inn and stable, sitting between a line of half-dead, wind-stripped trees and a large, bleached skull of some mammal. An old wooden sign, nailed above the door, named the building as The Seabird.

  Setting her jaw, Runa strode towards the weathered building and wrenched open the door. The room was dim, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the low light.

  Narrow, but clean, the inn’s common room overflowed with benches and tables, some occupied with the missing residents of Ivernn. In one corner sat a squat fireplace, inlaid with seashells. Large windows in the back let in the feeble light, the wooden frames filled with diamond-shaped panes of glass that overlooked the angry sea below.

  Looking to the left of the door, Runa observed a man and woman laughing and sorting linens at a long bar. The man, bearded and broad-shouldered, ducked away as the woman slapped him with a napkin.

  The woman snorted and shook her head, her brown eyes twinkling. She was plump with a kindly, heart-shaped face; her brown hair combed back into a bun. Eyes slipping to Runa framed in the doorway, the mirth slipped off the woman’s face as she took in her bloodied appearance. Her eyes widened, her flushed cheeks paling.

  Beside her, the man abruptly stood up. His eyes narrowed, and he reached beneath the bar.

  Hefting the money pouch in one hand, Runa strode towards them. “I need a healer!” she said, her voice carrying louder than she’d intended in the small room.

  “What happened to you?” the man asked. His eyes were suspicious, and Runa narrowed her own in response. Did he think she was dangerous?

  “We don’t want any trouble here,” the woman said, coldly.

  “Trouble?” Runa asked. “We’ll hardly be trouble to you. Please, a healer. I can pay.”

  The man shifted, his chest swelling as he lifted a cudgel in his hand. “We?” he asked. He held the club low, but there was a threat in the way he studied her. “Who is with you?”

  “We’re wasting time!” Runa snapped impatiently. “Do you have a healer or not?”

  Forehead wrinkling, the woman laid aside the napkins and brushed her hands on her skirts. She stared at Runa’s red hair. “Who’s injured?” the woman asked.

  “My mother,” Runa said.

  Sympathy softened the woman’s frown, and she walked around
the side of the bar. The man hissed something at her, but she ignored him. “Was it the Sireni?” she asked.

  “What?” Runa frowned. “No, we came up the Shore.”

  “Up the Shore …” The woman glanced back at the bearded man. He seemed to lose some of his wariness and slipped the cudgel back beneath the bar before coming around to join them.

  “We were attacked by some kind of … animal,” Runa said. She wasn’t sure what to call the nightmarish creatures. Had anyone here seen one? If she started talking about monsters, would they think her mad?

  “The creatures,” the woman said uneasily. The look on her face mirrored that of Runa’s neighbors back home whenever they discussed magic.

  “We have a healer,” the woman said, “Granny Gertrude. Elias!” She pitched her voice over the room, drawing the attention of a small boy, who scurried up. “Go fetch Granny Gertrude, at once,” the woman ordered. “Be quick about it!”

  The boy looked at Runa, his eyes wide.

  “Now, Elias!” the woman said, shooing him with her hand.

  “Yes, Ma!” He spun on his heel and ran off through the door Runa had entered. It slammed behind him.

  “Did you and your mother travel alone?” the man asked. “Where is she?”

  Runa shook her head. “No, with my sister and a friend. They’re with my mother at the entrance of town. Should I bring them here? Where does Mistress Gertrude live?”

  “Oh, my dear, don’t worry about that,” the woman said. “You look about to fall over. My husband, Jim, will fetch them. Here, please sit down.” She gestured towards a table. “I’m Maggie. We own The Seabird.”

  “No, I can go,” Runa said.

  “No, no,” Maggie said. “I insist. Please, sit.”

  Eyeing her, Runa nodded reluctantly.

  “I’ll bring them here, Miss,” Jim said. “What are their names?”

  “My sister is Lyric,” Runa said, “and our companion is Kell. I’m Runa.”

  Jim nodded. “I’ll get them right away. Elias will bring Granny here.” He headed out the door.

  Questioning her decision not to follow Jim, Runa let Maggie lead her to a table. She sagged onto the bench and felt exhaustion settle over her like a water-soaked cloak. She rested her hands in her lap; they felt impossibly heavy.

  The room was quiet, too quiet, and when Runa lifted her head, she saw some of the people staring at her. They eyed her suspiciously, more hostile than she’d expected. There was an undercurrent in the room she didn’t understand.

  “What happened here?” she asked, looking at Maggie. “I saw a burned house.”

  Maggie looked at her; the anxious look back in her eyes. “By your hair, I’d guess you to be Raendasharan,” she said. “You haven’t heard?”

  Runa raised an eyebrow. She’d never ascribed any significance to the color of her hair. “Heard what?” she asked.

  “There was a great battle three weeks ago. Our entire royal fleet, gone to the bottom of the sea. Ten windracers and ten dragonlancers. We know about ships here, you see.” Maggie smiled, though it didn’t touch her eyes. “Well, not all were destroyed by the Sireni. Some survived but were badly crippled, and King Rakarn ordered them burned before they fell into Sireni hands.

  “Since then, the Sireni have grown bolder, coming ashore, and burning homes.” Maggie’s lips tightened. “They haven’t tried to burn us out completely, thank the Trinity, but perhaps they don’t think it’s worth the effort.”

  “The entire fleet?” Runa asked.

  “Aye,” Maggie said.

  “You thought they attacked us,” Runa said with realization. “That we might have led some here?”

  “The thought crossed my mind,” Maggie said. She gestured at the subdued room. “And likely theirs as well. You look dreadful, dear; quite fearsome. Maybe Granny should look you over as well.”

  “It’s not as bad as it looks,” Runa said. “I have cuts and scrapes, nothing serious.” Exhaustion pressed again behind her eyes, dragging her towards sleep. “How much for a room?”

  “Two silvers per night,” Maggie said, “and four coppers for a hot meal.”

  Runa nodded, thinking about the gold in Elaina’s purse.

  “Unfortunately I only have one room available,” Maggie continued. “Lukas Weldan’s house, the one you saw, was burned by the Sireni last week. He’s been living here since. I do have a cot in the stable for your friend. Hopefully, he’s not afraid of horses?”

  “That’ll be fine,” Runa said. Kell had surely spent many nights in barns and beneath the open sky, traveler that he was.

  The inn’s front door opened, and Lyric stepped through. She held it open for Jim, who strode in carrying Elaina. Kell followed on his heels, head bent wearily. As Jim passed, Lyric looked around and saw Runa. Her face softened with relief, and she walked towards her.

  “Let’s get you to a room,” Maggie said, glancing at the locals. “Follow me, please.”

  Runa stood, and Lyric clasped her arm, squeezing gently. “Jim said they’ve sent for a healer?” Lyric asked as they walked towards the stairs.

  Runa nodded. “She’s coming here.”

  They climbed to the second floor, following behind Jim and Kell, and stepped out onto a landing that was barely wider than the stairs themselves. The hall was dim, but someone had hung paintings on the dark wood paneling. Runa craned her head, trying to examine them as they passed.

  Maggie stopped at the last room on the left and opened the door, shifting back so her husband could carry Elaina inside and lay her on the bed.

  Giving his wife a quick look, Jim squeezed past them and headed back down to the bar.

  The room was too small for everyone, so Kell stayed in the hall. He sagged against the door frame opposite Maggie, his arms hanging limp.

  Touching Kell’s shoulder as she passed, Lyric immediately went to the bed. She dropped her pack and leaned over their mother, listening to her breathe. “Do you have any comfrey?” Lyric asked, looking back at Maggie, who still stood in the door with Kell. “For a poultice?”

  “Comfrey? No, I’m afraid not,” Maggie said. “You know herbs?”

  “Yes,” Lyric said. She gestured at Runa. “My sister and I are wise women, but we left behind our supplies.”

  “Granny might have what you’re looking for,” Maggie said. “Or something similar. I’m not sure that herb grows here.” She eyed them. “Where are you from?”

  “Oleporea,” Runa said, remembering Elaina’s response to Meara.

  “Oh,” Maggie said. She seemed confused.

  Runa remembered her earlier assumption that she was from Raendashar. “But our mother’s family is here, in Raendashar,” Runa said. “It’s our first visit.”

  Maggie nodded, seeming soothed. She turned to Kell. “This is our only available room, but I have a cot in the stable you can use. It’s clean and warm.”

  Kell smiled tiredly. “That’s fine, thank you,” he said.

  “Good,” Maggie said. “Granny will be here soon. I’ll get hot water and towels. I’m sure she’ll ask for them. I can show you to the stable.” She studied Kell shrewdly. “It looks like you’re injured too. There’s blood on the back of your shirt. Jim can take a look at your back if you like. He’s sewn up more than one sailor who cut himself on the rocks ‘round here.”

  “No,” Kell said, a touch too quickly. He smoothed his face into a smile as Maggie frowned. “No, it’s ok. Lyric looked at it already. I’ll be fine once I get cleaned up.”

  “All right,” Maggie said, “but don’t go bleeding on my floor because you’re trying to impress the girls.”

  Kell flushed, eyes darting to Lyric. “Honestly, I just need to bathe.”

  Maggie relented and rested a hand on her hip. “I can take you to the stable now if you wish? I’ll have Jim bring you water. Afterward, if you’re hungry, you can eat dinner in the common room. My Jim makes a delicious stew.”

  Kell looked at Lyric.

  “It’
s ok,” Lyric said, smiling. “Go ahead. There’s nothing you can do now. We’ll be fine.”

  “Here,” Runa said, fishing in the money pouch. Avoiding the gold coins, she handed a mix of silver and copper to Maggie. “For our room and evening meal. How much for Kell’s cot?”

  “No charge,” Maggie said. She smiled and took the handful of coins, slipping it into an apron pocket. “There’s a bathing chamber downstairs if you’d like to use it after Granny arrives. Don’t forget to see to your own injuries.” She gave them a stern, motherly look, and then turned back to Kell.

  “This way, Mr. Kell,” she said.

  Kell glanced at Lyric again, then flicked his eyes to Runa, who nodded.

  Runa closed the door as Maggie and Kell left and turned back around. Lyric was examining their mother’s neck again.

  “How bad is it?” Runa asked. “As bad as you thought?” She walked to the bed and looked over her sister’s head.

  “Yes,” Lyric said. Her eyes were large and worried. “We can’t lose her, Ru. Not after we got her back.”

  Bone-numbing fear tingled through their bond and filled Runa’s chest. She gasped, surprised by the return of their connection. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Runa reached for her sister’s hand.

  “I don’t know what to do, Ru,” Lyric said. “She’s still unconscious, though perhaps that's a mercy. Her breathing is so faint, and her wound … I’m not sure how to even sew the … There's muscle and bone and …” Her fingers tightened on Runa’s.

  “She’s strong,” Runa said. No matter what she thought about their mother’s choices and their abandonment, Runa knew Elaina was as fierce and relentless as a mother wolf. She wouldn’t die on her back in bed. It was impossible.

  A brisk knock on the door cleared Runa’s head. “Come in,” Runa called.

  The door opened, revealing an elderly woman holding a large canvas bag. She was shorter than both Runa and Lyric, which was rare considering their height, and had thick, white hair gathered in a braid that brushed the floor. Wide and sturdy, the old woman’s shoulders were strong and her back straight, a rare thing to see in a person her age. Her bright blue eyes were alert and set in a brown face wrinkled by the sun.