Daughters of Fire & Sea

by Holly Karlsson

  Jealousy and loneliness wrapped their arms around her, ripping open the old wound Elaina had left in her wake all those years before. It could get worse. Runa hadn’t thought that it could.

  “Ru?”

  Runa jumped, hand raising as she spun around. She flushed, embarrassment heating her skin, then anger chased it away. “What!” she snapped, glaring into her sister’s face.

  “I just wanted to see if you are well,” Lyric said, eyes flaring. Her cheeks flushed an angry pink.

  “I’m fine,” Runa said.

  “Fine,” Lyric said. “I’ll be with Hali if you need me.” She stormed away, the hurt plain on her face.

  “Ly, I’m —” Runa said. Her voice trailed off as Lyric climbed into the ship’s bow.

  Feeling miserable, angry, and frustrated, and wanting to scream, Runa turned back to the deep water. She tangled her fingers in the ends of her braid and pulled hard, feeling pain as her hair tugged on her scalp. Let us get there soon, Runa thought desperately, before I set fire to this whole cursed boat.

  The sky was clear when Captain Eleden anchored the Talan in a large cove along the Ayanaran coastline. Their trip, which should have been a week, had taken mere days, Hali’s skill with the storm propelling them faster than a mageless vessel. There was no hint of a city or village or even a dock for their ship. All Runa could see was an unbroken line of trees curving along the beach like a living wall.

  The forest was massive, the trees lush and green and they rolled away from the beach as far as Runa could see. Mountains stood in the distance, jutting up from the sea of green like tiny spikes.

  Captain Eleden’s crew lowered a skiff lashed to the Talan’s side, and Runa, Lyric, and Kell climbed down into it via a rope ladder. Eleden and three other crew members joined them — Laerdi, who Runa was familiar with, a woman named Sashala with tightly-coiled black hair and dark skin, and a bald man named Teaeth with pink coloring, bony shoulders and the widest grin she’d ever seen. Teaeth seemed unable to force his face into anything other than a broad smile, and Runa could see every single gold-capped tooth inside his mouth.

  The Windcaller, Hali, was staying behind on the Talan. Eleden had given her command of the ship in his absence. Hali gestured something at Lyric, who smiled and raised a hand in return, then Runa felt a tingle of power dance across her skin. The boat surged away from the ship, propelled by an unseen hand, letting them flow right up onto the beach without once needing to lift an oar.

  Before the boat had ceased moving, Sashala leaped out onto the sand, landing cat-like on her feet. She hauled the boat farther out of the water, away from the hungry tide that sought to drag them back out to sea.

  Captain Eleden vaulted out of the boat with impressive vigor, followed by Teaeth, Laerdi, and Kell. Unlike Eleden’s dramatic exit, Kell’s landing on the pale sand was markedly less agile. Despite his awkwardness, Lyric beamed when he reached back to help her, and she lingered in his arms as he took an unnecessary amount of time to set her down.

  Rolling her eyes, Runa avoided Teaeth and Laerdi’s outstretched hands and climbed over the side without assistance. Her feet splashed into the shallow water, splattering wet sand across her skirt. Ignoring her dirtied hem, Runa stomped purposefully up the beach.

  She realized they weren’t alone as she approached the trees. Men and women stood within the shadow of the forest, as silent and unmoving as the trees themselves. They were tall, like Kalizans, though thinner and darker than the folk back home with warmer undertones to their skin. Some of the figures wore dark green trousers and shirts with longbows on their shoulders, and others wore pale robes of undyed cloth. One of the robed people, a tall woman with long, dark brown hair, raised her hand in acknowledgment as Captain Eleden called out a greeting.

  “This way,” Eleden said quietly, heading towards the woman in the trees.

  Teaeth stayed behind with the boat, presumably guarding their exit, and Sashala and Laerdi fell into step behind Runa, Lyric, and Kell as they trailed after Eleden.

  The Captain seemed relaxed when they stepped up in front of the tall woman and gave her a pleasant smile, which she returned with apparent familiarity.

  Up close, Runa could see the woman was in her middle years and quite beautiful. Faint lines were etched around her eyes, but there was a youthfulness to her tawny face that made her seem younger. Runa, years her junior, felt envious of the woman’s radiating energy. Though the woman’s robe was unadorned, she wore a striking, woven belt knotted around her waist, spun from purple, green, and gold threads.

  “Laenadara,” Captain Eleden said. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “Eleden,” the woman said, voice husky. “My shade and water are yours.” Her bright green eyes shifted to regard Sashala, Laerdi, and Kell, and she nodded at them before moving on to Lyric and Runa. “Welcome, Daughters of Fire and Sea,” she said. “My shade and water are yours. I am Laenadara, High Priestess of the People of Greenhome. Your journey has been long. I will share refreshments with you if you wish it.”

  “With all of us, I hope?” Runa asked, eyeing Laenadara. There was something about the woman that immediately put her on edge, but she couldn’t figure out what it was.

  “Of course,” Laenadara said, smiling. “I have refreshments for all of you.”

  Lyric elbowed Runa. “Thank you for the welcome,” she said. “I’m Lyric Graymorn, and this is my sister Runa. Have you been expecting us?” She glanced at Eleden. “Did our uncle send word we were coming?”

  It was a good question, Runa thought. Eleden had told them when he’d sent a gull to help Elaina, but he’d made no mention of contacting Laenadara ahead of their arrival.

  “There wasn’t time,” Eleden said. “I apologize for the surprise. I knew we’d arrive ahead of any message.”

  Runa frowned and looked back at the High Priestess, sharpening her study of the woman’s enigmatic face. “How did you know?” she asked, suspiciously.

  “The Mother told me,” Laenadara said.

  “Aya, the Mother Tree?” Lyric asked.

  Laenadara inclined her head, smiling serenely.

  Runa raised an eyebrow. “It speaks to you?” she asked.

  Lyric elbowed her more sharply, but Runa ignored her.

  “Not aloud, like our conversation now,” Laenadara said, “but She honors a few of us with a communion of minds.”

  “She puts images in your mind?” Lyric asked.

  Runa thought of Elenora whispering in the back of her head. Maybe it was similar.

  Laenadara inclined her head.

  “I didn’t know the Tree was sentient,” Runa said. She shifted to the side to avoid another jab from Lyric’s elbow.

  “Of course She is,” Laenadara said, smiling indulgently. She didn’t seem upset by their questions. “Her roots stretch down into Erith’s Heart, and her branches reach up into the realm of Sky and beyond. She bridges all things. She’s the heart of everything.”

  “How would She know we were coming here?” Runa asked skeptically. “We only just decided that ourselves several days ago.”

  “We don’t understand all Her mysteries,” Laenadara said, “only that She is everywhere.”

  “Ah,” Runa said. She wasn’t sure she believed a tree could be omnipresent, but she knew there was much about magic and the old gods she didn’t know. Perhaps Eleden’s gullmaster, Elverna, had sent ahead a bird without him knowing. Or the priestess had somehow heard about their capture in Rathgar’s Hold and assumed Eleden would rescue them and bring them to Ayanar.

  She glanced sideways at Eleden. It was also possible the Captain had shared his intention with Laenadara, and for some reason wanted to keep this hidden from Runa and Lyric. Why, though? So they’d believe in the magic and power of the Ayanarans’ tree? It didn’t make sense.

  “Let me take you somewhere to rest,” Laenadara said. “Once I’ve shared our hospitality, I’m more than happy to answer any questions you have.”

  “Yes,” Lyri
c said nodding. “Maybe we should get off the beach.”

  “We’re being followed,” Eleden said. “I rescued Lyric and Runa from another captain’s boat, and she’ll likely come here with the intent to take them back.”

  Laenadara nodded. “We’ll be ready,” she said, gesturing at several of the green-clad figures. “If you’ll follow me?”

  Led by the High Priestess, they entered the loamy forest. There was no defined path beneath Runa’s feet, and she studied the ground curiously as they walked. It was covered by a leafy, green plant that crawled all over the forest floor, giving the appearance that someone had unfurled a lush blanket. Scattered across the thick, grass-like plant were tiny, blue flowers, catching Runa’s eye like scattered jewels that’d fallen from someone’s pouch.

  It was verdant and wet beneath the forest canopy, and a diversity of plants bloomed and flourished across the ground, some growing off the sides of tree trunks. Out of habit, Runa studied the plants they passed; seeing some she recognized, but many she did not. Wetter than the Umberwood back home, there was more color and vitality here.

  Something dripped onto her forehead and Runa jerked her head up, staring into the large leaves overhead. It’s too humid here, she thought, wiping sweat from her face. It felt like standing over a hot pot of water on the stove.

  Birds trilled from every direction, and the flash of a small, white-tailed deer caught her eye. Runa looked at Captain Eleden and his crew to see how they felt about the forest. They looked comfortable, despite being off their ship, moving easily through the damp undergrowth. Their lightweight clothing was breathable and airy, suitable for Ayanar’s environment. Perhaps that’s why they didn’t seem to mind it as Runa did; they weren’t sweating inside their clothes.

  Kell and Lyric walked hand in hand, seemingly oblivious to the sweat dampening their faces and hair. Her sister’s skirts were still tied up like she was Sireni, and Kell hadn’t removed his loose, white trousers or the vest, showing off his bare chest.

  Watching them, Runa narrowed her eyes as Kell’s vest shifted across his shoulders. What were those lumps beneath the blue fabric? Had he hidden a weapon on his upper back? Maybe you’re smarter than you look, she thought.

  “We’re here,” Laenadara announced. She’d stopped atop a small hill, moving aside so Runa and the others could see past her into the canopied hollow below.

  Nearly indistinguishable from the lush foliage were a handful of large, basket-like structures woven from branches still attached to the trees. With no cleared paths between them, the buildings seemed more like a collection of nests than anything human-made. Men and women moved around the village on various tasks, their movements unhurried, almost reverent. A man with a basket full of dark purple berries cradled in his arms glanced up and caught Runa’s eye, smiling like she were an old friend.

  “This way,” Laendara said. The priestess led them down to one of the structures and held aside a curtain of vines to reveal a doorway.

  Passing her, Runa stepped beneath a flowering archway into a large, circular room. She turned in the center, curiously examining the room. Interwoven branches formed the walls, insulating them from the rest of the forest, and arched overhead in a dome. Softly illuminating the enclosed space were small, glowing lights that shifted lazily along the curve of the ceiling. Runa narrowed her eyes. Were they fireflies?

  Pillows and blankets were arranged around the room, providing comfortable places to sit. Several low tables, crafted from polished pieces of driftwood, held fruit-filled baskets and small figurines woven from pale greenish-blue grass.

  Turning again, Runa saw a man waiting beside one of the seating areas. She stared at him, distracted by his beauty. He was short, no taller than her or Lyric.

  Lyric grabbed Runa’s arm. “He has … horns?” she murmured.

  Runa raised a surprised eyebrow. She’d been so distracted by the man’s features that she hadn’t noticed the small, black horns curving out from his golden curls.

  “Faun-born,” Kell whispered behind her.

  The man, perhaps overhearing, dipped his head with a bemused smile. Small tendrils of steam curled up from the earthen pot in his hands, as he poured bright green liquid into seven small cups.

  “Sit, rest,” Laenadara said, gesturing at the circle of pillows beside the horned man. The High Priestess seated herself first, lounging against several pale yellow cushions.

  Eleden sat next, followed by Laerdi. Sashala remained standing with her arms crossed. Lyric and Kell sat down together, and Runa sat beside her sister, ending up right next to the horned man.

  Setting down the pot, the man picked up a clay cup and leaned over her, holding it out in his hands.

  Runa blinked and accepted the cup.

  The man’s fingers lingered on hers unnecessarily, but she was too distracted by his long, purple-tipped nails to object. “I’m Theo,” the horned-man said as he drew his hand away. His voice was lower than she’d expected.

  “Good day,” she said, her voice flat.

  Grinning as if they’d shared an intimate moment, the horned man moved on to Lyric and Kell, then the others. As Runa continued watching him, she saw him give everyone lingering glances and brush their hands with the same familiarity that he’d shown to her. She wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or amused.

  Kell, predictably, seemed jealous when Lyric accepted her tea, but his irritation quickly shifted to confusion when he received the same close attention.

  Eleden gave Theo a surprisingly friendly grin, the two men exchanging an inaudible greeting.

  Returning her attention to her cup, Runa lifted it to her mouth and inhaled the fragrant steam. It was tea and smelled like the first day of spring, fresh and grassy.

  Theo handed Laenadara the last cup then bowed to the room. He caught Runa’s eye and winked at her, much to her annoyance, then walked out the door, passing through the curtain of vines and between two, green-clad Ayanarans who’d slipped inside unnoticed.

  Eyeing the Ayanarans over her cup, Runa wondered if they were there to prevent them from leaving or if they were guards for the High Priestess. There was nothing overtly threatening about any of the Ayanarans so far, but the uneasy feeling Runa felt when first meeting Laenadara was still there, prickling her skin and drawing her eyes towards the exit.

  “Thank you for your welcome, Laenadara,” Lyric said. She tilted her head to the side, her brown braids slipping off her shoulders. “You know who we are, so I assume you know our mother?”

  The High Priestess sipped from her cup. “Not directly,” she said, “but I know who she is. King Rakarn has worked hard to keep it quiet, but we learned that the Crowned Princess of Raendashar has been absent from the Scorched Court for over twenty years. The Mother, Aya, told us when Lady Elaina left, thinking we could be of use to each other.”

  “So you know our mother is against Raendashar’s war with the Sireni?” Lyric asked.

  Laenadara inclined her head.

  “You called us Daughters of Fire and Sea,” Runa interrupted. “Why is that?”

  “You are children of both bloodlines,” Laenadara said. “You are of the Three and Serith, the sea serpent.”

  “Did you tell her?” Runa asked, staring at Captain Eleden.

  Eleden seemed confused, brows knotted over his eyes. “I did not,” he said.

  “Your uncle didn’t betray your secret,” Laenadara said. “The Mother told me of your heritage.”

  Runa raised an eyebrow. How did the Mother Tree know about her family? The Tree, Aya, was said to bridge worlds. Theoretically, you could travel through it to the Veil and Underworld, and other worlds beyond, but she’d never heard a story about it speaking or communicating with anyone. How conscious was Aya? The Tree wasn’t divine like the Trinity or demigods, nor a creature like the dragons. It was something else.

  The old stories did say that Ethethera gave part of herself to facilitate Aya’s creation. Maybe the Ayanarans were talking to an echo of the go
ddess Herself through the Tree?

  Runa rubbed her temple and tried to bring her mind back to the conversation. She was frustrated by how little they knew. How could she and her sister make intelligent decisions about the war, about their lives, when they barely understood their place in the world?

  “We did speak of allying against Raendashar and the Gale,” Eleden said, nodding at Laenadara. “I discussed it with your mother before she returned for you, but she wanted to keep you hidden. She refused to involve you.”

  Lyric seemed distracted, and then she shifted her attention back to Laenadara with a curious expression. “You’re willing to stand against both Raendashar and the Sireni,” Lyric said. “Why? Your land is far from the war. What happens between them doesn’t touch you here. Why risk allying with us and getting involved? King Rakarn will likely see your support as a sign you’re siding with his enemies. He could turn his eyes on you. Even without his fleet, he has troops, mages; he could probably find a way to come here.”

  Laenadara rested her cup in her lap, fingers curled around it. “Erith is dying,” she said.

  Runa frowned. Dying? She’d seen no sign of disease in the land back home.

  Eleden cocked his head to the side, his face clouded.

  “Dying?” Lyric asked. “What do you mean?” She gripped Kell’s arm.

  Watching her sister reach for Kell and not her, Runa felt a pang of sadness.

  “The Taint,” Eleden said, his voice thoughtful. “It’s drifted farther into the Sea of Screams away from the Tainted Shore. The bordering reefs no longer contain it. We’ve done what we can to shift it back, run it aground with the tide, but we’ve seen its effect on the fish and animals despite our efforts.”

  At the mention of the Shore, Kell grew still beside Lyric. There was a grinding sound beneath his hands as his palms crushed the cup braced between them.

  Laenadara glanced at him curiously, a calculating look entering her eyes. “Yes,” she said, after a moment. “The Taint is growing and spreading beneath the earth like rot along the root. In months or weeks, it will begin to surge to the surface, spreading pockets of death. We’ve ignored it at our peril, believing it contained to Thenda.”