Sea Witch and the Magician

by Savage, Vivienne

  She and the gorgeous specimen traded blows again, testing each other’s defenses. All around them, any hope of escape was extinguished, his fellow slaves subjugated by booted Ridaeron feet on their backs or necks and swords pointed at their throats. Though the odds weren’t in his favor, this one man still fought. Her regard for him skyrocketed, but he couldn’t be allowed to prevail.

  With her quicker reflexes, Brynhildr spun behind him, sweeping with the shield and taking his legs out from beneath him. She saw his startled expression, the bewilderment in his eyes as his feet flew up and he hit the pebbled ground.

  Brynhildr placed her shield on her back again, but she never removed her weapon from his neck. “Secure and send everyone to the sunken fields. They’ve lost the privilege of sunlight.”

  “What about the mage?” asked one of the wardens, fingering the hilt of his sword and eyeing the unconscious woman. “Should we trust she won’t manage to break the shackles again, Your Majesty?”

  “We won’t waste good flesh. Clasp new manashackles on her first, then bring the little bitch to me. I have a lesson to teach her, and a suspicion to confirm.”

  The sergeant of the guard stormed over and clasped a new set of magic-repelling maethrana cuffs to their prisoner’s wrists. Her head lolled and blood congealed around her swollen nose, forming a dark stain against the bruised purple skin.

  “Smelling salts, Your Majesty?” Sergeant Halvard asked.

  Brynhildr smiled. “Yes, my dear. I need her awake.”

  It took less time to revive the sorceress than it had to put her down. Her lashes fluttered, eyes swollen and unfocused. She blinked a few times, then seemed to realize what had happened. Looking at her now, with the heat of battle behind them, she picked out the similarities between the two: the same fair complexion, golden hair, bright blue eyes, and scattered freckles on their blood-smeared cheeks. Matching expressions of indignant defiance glared at her.

  “Ah, now I see. I believe we have a pair of siblings here,” Brynhildr said.

  “If you hurt my brother, I’ll—”

  Ah, the mage spoke their language. Unusual. “You’ll what?” Brynhildr drew her sword and placed the point to the male’s neck. “You’re all out of steam, witch. I don’t know how you managed to slip those shackles, but I truly do not care. We underestimated your strength, but it won’t happen again.”

  “I won’t stop fighting. I won’t stop fighting until I’m dead or we’re free.”

  Brynhildr applied an ounce of pressure with the blade until a single ruby drop welled to the surface and rolled down the male’s stubbled throat. “What a pity you’ll both have to die then,” she said in Eislandic, deciding to clue the other sibling in on their conversation.

  The mage’s eyes flared open widely. “What? Wait—”

  “It would pain me, the waste of such a handsome man, but we can’t have thrall uprisings. Perhaps this means the entire batch is tainted, and all must be purged.”

  “The revolt was my idea. I told them to use their picks on my shackles. No one else is responsible for it.”

  “But they obeyed you,” Brynhildr said sweetly. “So they must share in your punishment. As will he. I am no fool to believe he wasn’t part of your wild scheme, witch.”

  “He wasn’t. I came up with the entire thing. I made the plans. Don’t hurt him. I’m the one you want to punish. He had no idea what was going on until it all started.”

  “Don’t listen to her. I broke her shackles myself and devised our strategy for escape. Cara is innocent. I made her agree to help.”

  Brynhildr cocked a brow, then she tossed her head back and laughed until her belly hurt. Of course, it was all lies, and she wasn’t an idiot to be strung along by their ploy. They’d both crafted the plan, both decided to execute it, both led the revolt, and thus neither could be trusted. But she saw their loyalty and wondered if they realized they’d handed her the key to controlling them.

  “I have decided to spare your lives; however, there will be consequences. If one of you misbehaves, the other will die. If you trouble my guards at any time or slip those shackles again, I will kill your brother.” As the young man’s eyes grew larger, she turned to him and smiled. “If you attempt to escape, I will kill her and hang her carcass for the gulls.”

  “No, don’t! Please, don’t hurt my sister. Hurt me, not my sister.”

  The mage blinked. “Camden—”

  “Shut up,” he hissed back to her.

  “I won’t. As long as you behave.” Brynhildr sheathed her sword. “I’ve chosen. I’ll take this one. I like his personality and spirit.” And his body. What she saw of his chest through his tattered clothing appealed to her, his torso rock hard, his biceps sculpted and thick with muscle. She’d come to expect all Eislanders were scrawny, undersized little boys. Centuries of breeding with their island’s aboriginal people had robbed them of strength. These two still showed some of their Ridaeron ancestry.

  “Take him away to be bathed,” Brynhildr said to one of the remaining guards. “He’s been under quarantine long enough.”

  Gunnar waited for her at the edge of the quarry. When she reached him, he slipped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “Well done, my queen.”

  She tilted her face up and smiled. “When have I ever given you anything less?”

  Chapter 6

  The sun always cast a blinding glow across the Viridian Sea at dusk, lighting it aflame in hues of vermilion, white, and gold. Shielding her eyes from the glare, Eliza stepped onto the quarterdeck and joined James at the helm.

  “We made better time than expected,” she murmured.

  “Thanks to your mastery of wind magic. Little Wolf taught you well.”

  To their left, a few miles from the portside bow, a tiny island provided the only break in the endless blue as waves crashed against its white pebble and sand beach. Eliza knew the landmark well, and always looked forward to its sighting. It meant they’d soon reach Eisland’s shores.

  “Beautiful sight to see after so long from our homeland, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” she agreed, wondering when the landmark had become synonymous with home. “Should arrive by morning, you think?”

  “By sunrise, if not earlier. I suspect Rapunzel will be at the docks waiting to receive us, given the letter you wrote about her brother.”

  Eliza grinned. “That’ll serve him right for disobeying my orders. I’m not so happy with you, either.”

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I turn into an idiot when Belle isn’t here.”

  “You do.” Eliza pursed her lips, considering the change in atmosphere that fell over the ship whenever their captain’s beloved wife tended to her responsibilities away from the ship. As a great fairy, she had her own duties of vast importance. “Any idea when she’ll return?”

  “None at all. She speaks nothing of it to me, of course, but something’s happening in Cairn Ocland, and it’s drawn all of the great fairies out.”

  Eliza cocked a brow. “Have you spoken recently with the king and queen?”

  “They’re also bewildered. Queen Anastasia suspects the possibility of war with Liang is troubling them as much as it troubles us; after all, those woodlands are home to the sprites and fae. If Liang comes with gunpowder…” James’s shoulders moved with his heavy sigh. “It won’t be pretty.”

  “They’ll burn the entire forest and crush it with war machines.”

  “Precisely. As Samahara was ruled by cowards hiding behind the grand enchantress and was unwilling to mobilize an actual army, Joaidane has his work cut out for him, but if it comes down to a war, they’re on Cairn Ocland’s side.”

  “What a bloody mess.”

  “Ye gods! Come look at this!” a shout came from below on the main deck.

  Eliza snapped her gaze toward the waist of the ship, where their stowaway gleefully—and almost singlehandedly—hauled a net bulging with a bounty of pink jellyfish from the water.

  “Strong bir
d, that one,” James said, appearing equally impressed.

  As strong as one of their crewmen. An uneasy feeling simmered in Eliza’s gut as she watched. For days, she’d been cabin partner to Coral Shell, observing the girl’s unusual mannerisms and behavior.

  “You shouldn’t be pulling that alone, Miss Coral!” Tom objected, rushing to her side.

  “You can injure yourself!” came another shout, this one from Osrim, a burly former slave liberated from one of Ridaeron’s ships. The chest-length braids of his blond beard bounced as he thundered across the deck. “You’ll hurt the lady bits inside you doin’ something like this, lass. You have to call and have us help you.”

  Eliza would have laughed, if Coral wasn’t so fixated on her task, hauling the net aboard the ship without their assistance. She had the build of a Wai Alei woman, the strong and muscular arms, the sturdy frame, and the long legs, but something about their guest’s mannerisms troubled Eliza. She couldn’t put her finger on it.

  “Lady bits,” James repeated, snorting back a laugh. “Next time you’re on fishing duty, perhaps you should try that…Eliza?”

  She snapped her gaze from the spectacle, glancing back up at him. “Hm?”

  “Everything all right?”

  “Sure. Fine.” She folded her arms and shook off the uneasiness with a dry, forced laugh. “There’s no denying that girl is useful. Intuitive, too. You can’t see the jellies beneath the waves, but she predicted an excellent time to close the net around them. Her gift is almost supernatural.”

  “It certainly appears to be. She’s a blessing to have aboard the ship.”

  “Did you send a letter to Tiger Lily?”

  “I did. The bird hasn’t returned yet with her response, but I’m eager to know if we’ve made off with one of their famed huntresses. She speared a bloody shark yesterday twenty feet from the bow. You were below deck tending to Joren. Missed it.”

  She grunted. “Heard of it. No one would shut up about her aim.”

  “Or the strength of it,” James added. He cocked his head and studied her, expression softening. “Eliza, are you jealous?”

  “Jealous? What? No!” If only it were petty jealousy. Envy could be understood and overcome. Something else stirred in Eliza’s chest whenever she looked upon Coral Shell socializing with the rest of the crew, laughing without sound, eyes twinkling brown in a face that struck her as eerily familiar.

  “We’ve never had another woman aboard the Jolly Roger,” James pressed.

  “There’s Tink.”

  “Belle doesn’t count, as she was a sprite for the majority of the time until her transformation.”

  “Dancing Willow has sailed with us.”

  “On rare occasions. But she doesn’t enjoy life on the sea as you do and prefers the island. And of course, there’s the greatest difference between them. Dancing Willow is quite smitten with you and taken. Coral Shell appears to have no such attachment and has been courted eagerly by every bachelor here.”

  “I’m not jealous.”

  “All right,” James said too easily, a glint in his eyes. “Did you come to relieve me from the helm or to glower at the water?”

  “To relieve you, jackass.”

  As he stepped aside for Eliza to take over the wheel, a shadow fell over them from high above. She glanced up as Tiger Lily’s red sea hawk swooped low and landed on the starboard rail. The handsome creature ruffled his gold-tinted plumage and screamed for attention.

  James stepped over and fished in his coat pocket, removing a dried sliver of meat he kept on hand for the many messenger birds. “Why hello there, good friend. About time you brought us news.” They exchanged their gifts, meat for a rolled sheet of dried animal flesh.

  Eliza strained to read it from the wheel, frowning as James’s smile faded. “Well?”

  “I’m still reading.”

  “Summarize as you read.”

  His blue gaze drifted farther down the sheet. “She knows nothing of a villager named Coral Shell. At least, not on her island.”

  “Maybe ‘Coral Shell’ is an approximation of her actual name, as she’s unable to speak.”

  “Tiger Lily thought of that. In my letter, I mentioned the girl is mute but not deaf and wearing a scarlet and white dress, matched by a coral pink shell pendant. She’s suggesting Coral could come from another island. There are at least a hundred villages spread throughout Wai Alei, and she could be from any one of them. She visited the settlements nearest to where we dropped anchor, and still, no one knew of her.”

  An awful gnawing pulled at the pit of Eliza’s belly. “What happens now?”

  “She’ll inquire at the next meeting of the village elders. Someone there will know her identity if her friends and relatives don’t inquire about her disappearance first.”

  Down below on the main deck, Coral tossed her head back and soundlessly laughed at something Osrim said to her. The enormous fisherman had a big grin on his face.

  “They’re doing all that for nothing, you know,” she said in a quiet voice.

  James rolled the note and slipped it into his coat. “What do you mean?”

  “Have you seen her with the prince?”

  “She’s a good caretaker. Most are on Wai Alei. A whole village will come together to care for the ill when needed.”

  “No, that isn’t what I mean.” Eliza licked her lips and considered her observations, how Joren came alive and seemed to brighten with newfound vigor the moment Coral entered his cabin. “He’s fond of her.”

  “So?”

  “And she is fond of him.”

  James raised one dark brow. “You think he’ll take advantage of her?”

  “No, James. I’m worried he’ll break her heart without meaning to.”

  * * *

  No one allowed Joren to walk at any time for more than a few steps, and James had assigned some enormous brute with arms thicker than oak trees to be his minder when Coral wasn’t present. Like he was a child.

  Once the Jolly Roger docked in Jonquilles, a pair of men placed Joren on a litter of clean white linen between two long rods and carried him from his private cabin. No matter how many times Joren protested his legs worked just fine, no one listened to him. Ah, the humiliation, unable to disembark from a ship on his own two feet.

  Bloody Eliza. She’d terrified the entire crew somehow, despite a great portion of them being beastmen.

  Though it felt amazing to breathe in the crisp scent of snow wafting down from the mountains, the bright sunlight hurt Joren’s eyes, making him flinch. A few concerned murmurs in Oclandish rumbled across the deck. He wasn’t yet fluent, but he’d picked up enough to know they pitied him. Those strong and powerful shapeshifters from Cairn Ocland must have thought him pitiful and weak in comparison. One of them would never abide being treated like a child.

  Thanks to James sending a messenger bird ahead with word of his cargo, a royal welcome awaited them on the pier with his worried sister at the forefront. Muir was nowhere in sight, though Joren wished the even-tempered griffin was present to rein Rapunzel in. If his head injury didn’t kill him, she might.

  “Joren, thank the gods you’re all right.” Rapunzel leaned over him, her fair brows drawn close together. “When Eliza’s message reached me, I feared the worst.”

  He groaned. “Ratted me out about drinking against her orders, did she?”

  “No, but you just did, you great big asshole.” She scowled, but the frown only lasted a moment, her worry stronger than her annoyance. She never managed to stay mad at him for long, even when they were young.

  The procession through the town only worsened his mood and layered another whale-sized load of guilt on his heart. People lined the streets, some cheering for his survival, joyous families reuniting with survivors, and others crying for the loss of their loved ones. Their words pained him the most.

  Then a warm hand settled over his. Coral walked beside his litter with her gaze trained on his face, his merciful caretaker an
anchor in unsteady seas. The words of the crowd blurred in his mind and he focused on his angel’s face, until the bliss of sleep took him over once more.

  He’d fallen asleep to her being the last image in his vision a dozen times, and yet it had yet to get old.

  * * *

  The city’s professional healers, with their unlimited resources and combined efforts, had him back on his feet in only three days. His only concrete memory of their care were the moments when Coral sat by his bedside, but those recollections were fuzzy.

  Rapunzel was waiting for him outside his chambers when he emerged, feeling more alive after a proper bath and a change into clothes that were clean and his. She smiled and searched his face, concerned lines creasing her brow.

  “Welcome back, brother. It’s good to see you on your feet again.”

  “It’s good to be back. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

  “Please, as if I need a reason to see my brother. Walk with me?”

  He offered his arm. “For you, anything.”

  Rapunzel guided their path to the gardens, keeping her silence, but he could tell with a glance that she had plenty to say. Bless his sister’s patience and her considerate nature.

  They made their way to her favorite bench, where the flowers she’d been named for grew in abundance. Silence stretched between them, his heart heavy in his throat, and no words sufficient for the apology he owed her.

  Gods, he’d failed her during his first great voyage as an admiral. Maybe he didn’t deserve the title after all.

  Joren swallowed to loosen the hard tension in his throat. It didn’t help. “I’m sorry about the Giddy Madeleine.”

  “I don’t care about the loss of the ship, Joren. I care about you and the all the souls lost. Triton himself must have watched over you.”

  “I wish he’d done the same for my crew. All I can do now is go after them myself.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I cannot in good conscience leave them to suffer in Ridaeron hands. I plan to take whatever ships you can spare and go after them.” If she trusted him with another Eislandic vessel. He wouldn’t blame her at all if she knocked him back to the rank of captain.