Daughters of Fire & Sea
Page 28
“I will when I can,” Kell said. “I have to know if there are answers there.”
Disappointment and sadness twisted Lyric’s stomach, and she slipped her arm around his back, leaning her cheek again against his chest. “Perhaps you can buy passage on another boat once we reach Ayanar,” she said. “Find a merchant to take you to Raendashar.”
“Oh,” Kell said. He cleared his throat, looking away into the wind. “I thought I might … yes, maybe there is another ship.”
“What did you think?” Lyric asked, pulling back.
Kell’s eyes, like captured storms, stared down at her. “I thought I could stay and offer support if you wanted it. I don’t want to leave you alone, not until Elaina is back with you.”
Lyric’s heart clenched, and she smiled hesitantly up at him. “You want to stay with me? Even if it means delaying your return to Raendashar? Though I suppose it’d be hard to get into my grandfather’s library without us.” She frowned. Was he staying with her because he had to?
“Yes,” Kell said. “I’m not sure what I could accomplish in Raendashar without you or Elaina, but even if that wasn’t the case, I want to be with you. I won’t leave you, Lyric, unless you want me to.”
Lyric smiled, her worries melting away. She felt light and giddy; a giggle caught in her throat. “And if I never want you to leave?” she asked boldly.
Kell’s eyes darkened to a deep, fathomless blue. “Then I won’t,” he said.
Twisting in his arms, Lyric pushed up on her toes and kissed him. She twined her fingers in his hair, holding him fiercely as heat sizzled down her arms and through the soles of her feet, prickling her skin. She was caught in a storm’s eye; teetering on the edge of a precipice.
He’s a dangerous one.
Lyric broke the kiss falling back on her heels with a confused exhalation of air. Her heart thundered, beating to a loud tempo in her ears as Kell grinned down at her. His eyes were bright, reflecting the brilliant blues and greens of the water beneath their ship.
What do you mean? Lyric thought to Gandara. She was afraid of her ancestor’s meaning, but also irritated and embarrassed at the interruption. Why was Gandara here now, of all moments?
He’s a silver-tongue, Gandara said. Her voice brimmed with knowing laughter. All songsmiths are. He’ll be a dangerous lover.
“What’s wrong?” Kell asked, still smiling.
Lyric made a face. “Gandara,” she said. “She has horrible timing.”
Chuckling, Kell leaned his elbows on the railing as Lyric turned back to the ocean. The dalphineas were gone.
“What did the sailors think about your knowledge of Sireni sea shanties?” Lyric asked, casting about for a new topic.
“They said I have a better ear than most landborn,” Kell said. “Luckily I have an ear for songs, so what I didn’t know I learned as they sang it for me. They said if I sail with them for a couple of months, I can fill in the holes in my musical education.”
Lyric laughed.
“What’s Runa up to?” Kell asked.
“She’s looking at Eleden’s maps,” Lyric said. “I think she’s determined to memorize every major city across the continent. We didn’t have good maps back home. We learned the kingdoms of course, but not much beyond that. I can’t even tell you the name of Ayanar’s capital.”
“They don’t have one, I believe,” Kell said. “At least nothing permanent like Raendashar or Kaliz, your home. They move around.”
“What about their Mother Tree?” Lyric asked. “The tree doesn’t move, I assume. So they’d probably always stay close to it.”
“That’s a good point,” Kell said, grinning. “Well, you’ll see for yourself, soon enough.”
Lyric turned around, leaning her back against the rail, and caught sight of Hali, the Sireni Screamer who’d helped them get away from Kaia’s ship. She watched the tall woman stride across the deck.
Hali’s thick, reddish-brown hair was loose around her shoulders, the curls floating wildly around her head. Despite the strong wind, the Screamer’s hair somehow stayed out of her face.
That’s a neat trick, Lyric thought. Her eyes moved down Hali’s bare back, and Lyric flushed. Despite seeing Gandara without a shirt, it’d still shocked her when she’d realized the majority of the Sireni women walked around bare-chested like the men. No one seemed to pay much attention to it besides Lyric, and she wasn’t entirely sure Runa had even noticed.
Lyric expected Kell to gawk, at least a little, but he hadn’t seemed shocked or overly attentive. Perhaps he’d already known about their clothing and traveled with Sireni before. Jealousy brushed across her skin, and Lyric shoved it aside. She didn’t want to think about Kell with other women, or even him admiring another.
“Have you talked to Hali, the Screamer?” Lyric asked, watching Kell’s face.
Kell glanced over his shoulder. “A little,” he said. “Her hammock’s close to mine, but she’s usually out here. They call her a Windcaller. She doesn’t manipulate sound and create vibrations like the Screamers.”
“A Windcaller?” Lyric felt the wind blow across her face. “I should talk to her,” she said. She looked back at Kell, who smiled, then nodded at a knot of sailors working on netting on the other side of the deck. A tall man with golden hair and a broad, friendly face was leaning on a barrel beside them and holding a gray horn flute.
“You should,” Kell agreed. “Braysa, there, has a gemshorn that he’s promised to let me play.”
“It’s made from an ox’s horn, isn’t it?” Lyric asked, staring at the golden-haired man. “Seems more like a shepherd’s instrument than a sailor.”
Kell grinned. “Supposedly he got it from a farmer’s daughter during a port visit in Oleporea. He’s quite talented.”
“I’d like to hear you play sometime,” Lyric said, giving Kell a sly look. “You should join them. I’ll introduce myself to Hali.”
Kell smiled and brushed his fingers across Lyric’s cheek.
“I’ll find you after,” he said, then walked over to the sailors.
Lyric watched him for a moment, admiring the shape of Kell’s waist and shoulders. He’d kept the sailor’s vest and the airy, white pants he’d found on Kaia’s ship. It suited him, softening his movements, as though by wearing the Sireni garments he’d assumed their relaxed presence and manner of walking. Lyric liked that his body had lost some of its tightness. His sadness seemed to have diminished aboard the Talan, as though he’d allowed himself to breathe.
Flushing when she realized one of Eleden’s sailors had noticed her staring after Kell, Lyric straightened and headed towards the front of the ship. She gripped the handrail and shifted her skirt out of the way, climbing up the ladder to the bow. The deck was clear except for Hali.
The older woman stood with a steadiness Lyric envied. Her feet were bare, her toes spread on the rough wood deck. Arms relaxed, her hands swirled as though she were strumming unseen strings. The wind tugged at Hali’s loose, white pants, whipping them around her legs, and fluffed her hair around her head. When she turned to look at Lyric, her hair shifted out of her face like before.
She was somewhere in age between Lyric and her mother, though Lyric wasn’t sure by how much. Tanned to a deep gold by the sun, Hali’s skin bore a smattering of freckles across her cheekbones and pale blue fish scales tattooed down the sides of her neck.
“The wind knows you,” Hali said, eyeing her.
“Knows me?” Lyric asked, stepping up beside the older woman.
“Power recognizes power.”
But I’m not doing anything, am I? Lyric thought. She smiled uncertainly. “I’m Lyric. You’re Hali the Captain’s Windcaller?”
“I am,” Hali said. “You’re the granddaughter of the Butcher.”
Lyric grimaced. “It seems so,” she said. “I don’t know the man, but I’ve yet to hear a story of his kindness. I’m sorry for whatever he’s done to you and the Sireni.”
“We can only be held acc
ountable for our own actions,” Hali said.
Relief unknotted Lyric’s shoulders. After Hali’s words, she hadn’t known if she’d condemn her or ask her to leave. So far, out of the Sireni Lyric had met, only Kaia and her sailors had shown outright hostility.
“What does a ship’s Windcaller do, if you don’t mind me asking?” Lyric asked. “Do you break up storms?”
“No,” Hali smiled. “I’m not a god, trying to dominate the sea. I don’t try to control the weather, merely dance alongside it. I listen to the wind, the storm, find her cadence, then ease our movement through it. We move like the birds or the fish beneath the waves.”
“Is that what you’re doing now? Listening to the wind?” Lyric had felt a tingle across her skin when Kaia and Hali battled earlier, a resonance of what she thought was their magic. She didn’t feel anything now.
“Just listening,” Hali said. “There’s a storm to the north. You can smell it.”
Lyric inhaled curiously, and the tang of the salty ocean air filled her nose. She didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary.
“Sometimes I can smell when other Windcallers are nearby,” Hali said.
“When they use magic?”
“Yes. Whenever we use our power, any of us, it leaves a trace in the air. You simply have to know how to hear it, smell it, see it. In the beginning, Windcallers only cast when they intend to, but the longer you sail the sea, the more you move with the winds, whether you’re above deck or below. You’re always listening, always tasting the air.” Hali gestured as though plucking a string from the wind. “You release a constant thread of power without realizing it.”
“Does that drain you?” Lyric asked. She remembered how tired her mother looked after casting.
“There’s iron in the water,” Hali said, grinning. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “In the wind.”
Lyric tentatively licked her lips and tasted the salt of the ocean. “Do you sense someone now, nearby?”
“No,” Hali said. “Just you and your sister.” She cocked her head, eyes curious. “There’s something different about you.”
“Different?” Could Hali sense Gandara in her mind? Or was Lyric doing something unconsciously?
“I don’t know,” Hali said. “Maybe because of your father.”
“You know him?” Lyric asked, hopefully.
Hali shook her head. “I know he’s the Captain’s brother and a god-child. His blood flows through you.”
“Do you think that makes me different?” Lyric asked.
Hali smiled and shook her head. “I don’t know. You know yourself better than I.”
Sighing, Lyric looked at the distant horizon. “Will she catch us, do you think? Kaia?”
“The Blue Pearl lost us in the storm,” Hali said, “but they know where we’re headed. She’ll chase us to Ayanar and try again to take you to the Gale. They’ll wish to punish us.”
“The Gale?” Lyric asked, studying the woman’s face. “That doesn’t seem to bother you.”
“They’re wrong.”
“Captain Eleden said the head of your clan wants peace.”
“Yes,” Hali said. “Bethseida is wise.”
“She’s alone in seeking an end to the war?” Lyric asked. “Is she the only Gale who thinks as you do?”
“I do what my clan and my Captain request of me,” Hali said cryptically.
Lyric eyed her. Did that mean Hali only sought peace because of Eleden? Would she move against him if she disagreed and give Lyric and Runa to Kaia? Hali didn’t seem about to betray them, but Lyric didn’t know her. She considered the Sireni woman. What might it be like to be forced to protect the granddaughter of someone who’d killed your friends, your family, your people? She couldn’t begin to imagine.
Something bumped the boat, causing Lyric to wobble unsteadily. She glanced at Hali with alarm, but the older woman grinned broadly. Unlike Lyric’s ungraceful stumble, Hali merely swayed as the boat shuddered.
“What was that?” Lyric asked, reaching for the railing.
“A shadow ray,” Hali said. “If you look over the edge, you might see it.”
Lyric leaned over as far as she dared, staring down into the water below. Something enormous and black glided beneath the surface.
“They’re drawn to magic,” Hali said. “They like to chase Windcallers.”
The women watched the shadow ray slowly swim alongside them, its sleek, black back gleaming as it broke the surface. It rolled, gracefully moving the tip of its fin through the air. It was slower than the boat, and the Talan began to pull away from it, leaving the animal behind. As Lyric watched, the shadow ray sunk out of sight, perhaps losing interest or drawn by food deeper in the water.
23
Lyric
Hali leaned against the railing; her face turned towards the sun. There was an ease to her movements, confidence that Lyric envied. Despite Lyric’s small size, she often felt gangly and self-conscious, nothing like the boldness this woman exuded merely by breathing.
Aware of the older woman out of the corner of her eye, Lyric splayed her hands on the railing and raised her face to the sun. She closed her eyes, drawing the cool ocean wind into her lungs. She could feel a hum along her skin like the faint vibration of bees from somewhere far away. The Talan shifted, rolling atop the waves as the wind pushed them westward. She could feel ...
Eyes snapping open, Lyric turned her head and found Hali staring towards the back of the ship.
“Something’s coming,” Lyric said. “Someone’s coming.”
“Yes,” Hali said. Her eyes glazed, as if she were staring at something Lyric couldn’t see. Hali lifted her chin and scented the air like an animal, nostrils flaring.
“Is it Kaia?” Lyric asked. She felt a burst of energy rush through her veins.
“Laethreshi,” Hali said. She looked at Lyric, eyes dark and wicked. “Want to have fun?”
“What are Laethreshi?” Lyric asked.
“Pirates,” Hali said. “You can see the mast of their ship. They’re coming fast, using magic.”
Lyric squinted but couldn’t see anything. “You see a ship?” she asked doubtfully.
“Yes. Sireni have very sharp eyes. Come!” Hali took off towards the ladder, dashing across the deck and up another flight of stairs to the stern.
Lyric scrambled after her, slipping in her haste to follow. Kell gave her a startled look as she rushed past him and the other sailors, but she ignored him, intent on Hali.
Scrambling up the stairs at the back of the ship, Lyric saw Hali rake her fingernails across the helmsman’s collarbone in a familiar way as she passed. “Laethreshi,” she told the man.
He nodded, his pierced lip stretching in a savage smile.
Lyric stopped at the back railing and squinted across the water. There! She could see the tiny outline of a ship, the shape of its sail black against the sky. “What are you going to do?” Lyric asked.
Hali’s smile was all teeth. “Slow them down.” She raised her hands and began to chant.
Lyric tried to follow along, recognizing some of the mage runes that Hali spoke. The tone and intonation sounded different than the words Gandara had taught her, but the longer she listened, the more she understood.
It’s her clan, Gandara whispered in her ear. She speaks with the lilt of the Sae’kan.
Are you not of Captain Eleden’s clan? Lyric asked.
Lyric could feel pressure build around her, and she worked her jaw to unstop her ears, watching Hali out of the corner of her eye.
I am Sae’tal, The Heart, Gandara said.
The wind gathered and began to spin, forming a funnel in the air in front of them.
Lyric’s hair tore free from her braids. “A cyclone!” she gasped. The swelling power was making her giddy as if every mote inside her body and soul thrummed with energy. Goosebumps rushed down her arms and across her chest.
“Now it just needs a little push,” Hali said. She wiggled her finge
rs, casting again, and the column of air shot away from the Talan. “I wish I could hear their yells,” she said, tightly gripping the railing. Hali grinned fiercely, eyes blazing as she stared at the Laethreshi ship chasing them.
“Will it rip up their ship?” Lyric asked. She worried about the people pursuing them. Would they drown if Hali’s cyclone ripped their ship apart? Were they close enough to shore to swim to safety?
“Maybe,” Hali said, “but they have their own Windcaller. It’ll probably slow not cripple them unless their mage is weak. Do you wish to try?”
Lyric thought again of the faceless sailors. Being pirates didn’t inherently make them bad people, did it? What if she killed someone? Would she even know if she did?
“Maybe I can slow them another way,” Lyric said slowly.
Hali raised an eyebrow. “Don’t feel bad for them, Lyric. The Laethreshi steal and burn ships.”
“Do they kill?” Lyric asked.
“Sometimes.”
Lyric stared at the pirates’ ship. It was drawing closer. She couldn’t tell what damage Hali’s cyclone had wrought, but it’d blown apart, the sky clearing over the Laethreshi ship. Could Lyric knock them off course? Slow them down?
Gandara? What’s the rune for water? Lyric asked. What do I say if I want to create a wave and shove them back? Lyric tried to picture what she wanted to do in her mind.
Her ancestor hummed distractedly then spoke several runes. You don’t wish to summon wind? To be a Windcaller? Gandara asked.
Lyric started chanting. She imagined the water gathering, thickening. She thought back to how Kaia had shoved their boat away from the docks at Rathgar’s Hold. She thought about the water flowing, moving, pushing.
Power flooded through her, prickling the skin on her arms; Lyric felt caught in a flood, pushed towards the edge of something unseen. She sagged against the railing, the runes rushing out of her. The Talan surged forward, picking up speed, and Lyric felt the ocean beneath them reverse its direction. The water rolled up, a massive wave rising back towards the Laethreshi ship.