Plague Arcanist (Frith Chronicles Book 4)

by Shami Stovall

  Wraith dashed over to me. Without any instruction, he lapped up the droplets of my blood that had landed on the deck. Then he proceeded to eat the thin slices of skin that had slid off my arm. He wagged his tail the entire time, the vision of a disgusting puppy who got to eat the scraps dropped from his master’s table.

  “Are you okay?” Fain asked, his voice shaky. “I… didn’t know…”

  As the shock of the event wore off, I managed to process what had happened. My arm wasn’t seriously damaged, but the handprint in my skin was disturbing to look at. I kept it wrapped with my clothing.

  “It’s fine,” I forced myself to say. “I’ll heal this. Probably.”

  Adelgis ambled across the deck, his long hair tied back in a loose ponytail to keep it from getting in his eyes. He stopped next to my side and stared at the injury, offering no reaction other than deep curiosity.

  “Seems wendigo arcanist manipulate flesh,” he said, fascination in his voice. “That was what Fain was thinking about once he managed to get his magic to respond.”

  Fain frowned as he ran his frostbitten fingers through his hair. “I’m so sorry.”

  I shook my head. “I said it’s fine. It doesn’t seem like you did much harm.” I wiggled my fingers, testing the muscles beneath the injury. “See? Fine. Everything’s fine.”

  The pain, though…

  Curse the abyssal hells—it took all my willpower not to break down. It subsided at a slow pace. Too slow for my liking.

  “You should try your magic on me next,” Adelgis said as he rolled up the sleeve of his coat.

  Fain shot him a confused look, one eyebrow high. “You want me to use my abilities on you? Did you not see what happened?”

  “I saw. But you won’t master this without practice, and since no one wants you to spill Volke’s blood, it logically falls to me to help.” Adelgis held out his arm. “Don’t worry. I have experience with bizarre happenings to the human body. I once had a giant leech living inside of me.”

  It took Fain a couple of moments to absorb Adelgis’s statements. “You’re a weird one, Moonbeam. Brave, I’ll give you that. But weird.”

  The captain emerged from the officer’s staircase, his cap secured to his head with his bandana. When he strode over, I took note of the energy in each step. It seemed odd, since he was so tired earlier in the morning, but I didn’t know the man well, so I shook the thought from my head.

  “What’s going on here?” Captain Devlin asked.

  “We’re training our magic,” I said. I kept my arm close to my body. “We didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

  “You’re no trouble.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Perhaps I could give you some advice. I’ve been around for a while. Seen a few things. You might like what I have to say.” He squeezed my bicep and smirked.

  Then everything fell into place. The walk. The mannerisms. The word choice. This wasn’t the captain.

  I jerked out of his grasp. “Karna. Please. You can just tell me it’s you.”

  A slight smile crept across Adelgis’s face. “Oh, you figured it out? I thought she would fool you with this one.”

  Adelgis was never fooled, not when he could hear thoughts like the average person could hear speech.

  The fake Captain Devlin sneered. “You always catch me fast. A little too fast.”

  “It’s the way you touch me,” I said as I rotated my shoulder. “And the subtle way you act. It doesn’t match the people you’re portraying.”

  With a tip of the hat, Karna-Devlin chuckled. “That’s because I’m never really trying that hard. One of these days—when you least expect it—I’m going to surprise you.”

  “Do you always change your… uh… body?” Fain asked as he gave the fake captain a once-over.

  “We all have to get our training in somewhere.”

  Although I hadn’t given it much thought, Karna did need to shift her appearance in order to practice her skills. Using magic was much like using a muscle in the body—the more exercise, the stronger it became. Additionally, the longer an arcanist was bonded to its eldrin, the higher the limits of their magic.

  To an extent, anyway. Some mystical creatures were just weaker than others. At some point, they couldn’t grow any more powerful.

  How strong were doppelgängers? I couldn’t remember. Perhaps Karna was building her skills and reaching for the upper capacity of her shapeshifting abilities.

  Karna pushed back the curly hair of the captain and allowed her sorcery to change her appearance back to her normal dancer’s physique. Her hair grew longer and blonde, and her height went down a considerable amount. Her clothes didn’t change, however, leaving her wearing a pile of laundry draped over her athletic frame.

  “Fascinating,” Adelgis muttered as he observed the transformation. “Tell me, do you ever record changes? Height and weight and such?”

  Karna narrowed her eyes. “No. Why would I?”

  “I think if I had the ability to change from male to female, that would be the first thing I did. Is the weight the same? Or does the magic displace that? Obviously, the height would be different, but by how much? How would that affect one’s perceptions?”

  “Are you serious?” Fain asked. “If you could change into a woman, the first thing you’d do is measure your new height and weight? What’s wrong with you?”

  Adelgis regarded him with a neutral, almost sarcastic, glance. “What would be the first thing you did as a woman?”

  “Knowing my luck? Menstruate.”

  “Enough,” I barked, my cheeks hot. I ran my good hand down my face, trying to hide my embarrassment. “There’s no reason to discuss this. Ever.”

  For whatever reason, the interaction amused Karna. She chortled as she glanced between us, and I wondered what her thoughts on the situation were. If I had to guess, I’d say she thought we were all acting like children, but perhaps she found the exchange endearing.

  Then she noticed the injury on my arm, and her mirth disappeared. “What happened?”

  “An accident,” I said. “Don’t worry. We won’t be doing anything like this again.”

  “Hm. Well, you should also keep in mind how the crew sees you. If you’re getting violent with your fellow arcanists, it’ll disturb the deckhands. Biyu thought you two were trying to kill each other.”

  “She’s a child,” Fain stated. “Everything scares kids.”

  “Still. I don’t want to have to storm onto the deck every time you two horse around.” Karna placed her hand back on my shoulder, her slender feminine fingers softer than the gruff grip of the faux captain’s. “You shouldn’t injure yourself. Get some rest. Besides, don’t you want to catch up with your father? I’m surprised you’re not down there right now.”

  I hadn’t thought about him—not once—while training with Fain, and I honestly still didn’t want to. A part of me felt like it was a betrayal to William. He was my father. Adding Jozé to my life now almost seemed unnecessary. He could’ve just been another random member of the Sun Chaser crew.

  But there was no real reason to hate Jozé, either. He hadn’t abandoned me out of malice, and he seemed like he wanted to make things right.

  “I need more time to think about it,” I murmured.

  Karna straightened her clothing to prevent it from spilling off her shoulder. She said nothing as she mulled over my comment. Perhaps now she knew my father and I didn’t have a harmonious relationship.

  The moment the pain in my forearm subsided, I exhaled and headed for the stairway below deck. “Adelgis, would you mind helping me sleep? I think it’s time for me to get some rest.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Fain, we’ll do more of this tomorrow.”

  He nodded.

  Wraith perked his ears up and watched me go, his gold eyes under the skull-mask following my every move until Adelgis and I disappeared below deck.

  8

  Dreams Of Distant Legends

  Surgeon Tammi gave me a new shirt and replaced my ban
dages. Just like before, she asked that I not watch her work. I did as she instructed, and once she completed her task, she bid Adelgis and me farewell and left. It seemed odd how much she didn’t want us interacting with her, but I suspected she had her reasons. I headed to the storeroom, Adelgis close by my side.

  The lanterns in the narrow corridor on the first deck had been snuffed, resulting in a gloomy atmosphere. It didn’t bother me, and I was ready to give Adelgis my dark-sight, but he motioned with a twist of his hand, and a bright flash of light appeared a moment later.

  Crystalline shards appeared out of thin air and then coalesced together, forming into a single solid creature. The light became a shell and tentacles, the iridescent glow multicolored. The mystical creature was Adelgis’s eldrin, an ethereal whelk named Felicity.

  Once fully formed, she looked like a head-sized sea snail with tentacles hanging down from her soft snail body. The shine of her shell lit up the corridor better than any lantern.

  “Thank you, Felicity,” Adelgis said.

  “Anything for you, my arcanist.” Her voice was as bright as her light—happy and effervescent.

  Before we reached the storeroom, I glanced down the hall to my father’s bedroom. I still didn’t know what to say to him. Tired and ready for a distraction, I entered the storeroom and headed straight for the hammock in the back.

  “Volke.”

  I laid back on my ratty bed. “Yes?”

  Adelgis stood at my side. Felicity played with his long hair, her tentacles weaving between the inky locks.

  “Do you want me to investigate your father?” he asked. “I could ask him questions and listen to his thoughts.”

  I shook my head. “No, thank you.” I rested my arm across my face, the crook of my elbow covering my eyes. “Just help me sleep. I’d rather not think about any of this.”

  “Very well. I have the perfect dreams for you.”

  Although the statement sounded ominous, I decided not to say anything. As long as he helped me sleep, I could overcome any dream-turned-nightmare that Adelgis threw at me.

  Adelgis placed his hand on the top of my head, and the odd magical cobwebs quickly blanketed my thoughts. In a matter of moments, I was lost to a slumberland of his design.

  I knew this feeling.

  I was dreaming. But I wasn’t experiencing the dream as myself—I was someone else. Leaner. More energetic. Lithe and agile.

  I ran through a woodland area dotted in strange trees. The white trunks and gray leaves made it seem like the color had been drained from the world, but the bright blue sky above the dull canopy proved otherwise.

  Who was I? What was I doing? I watched the scene from behind the eyes of whoever’s memory this was, observing from their gaze, but never hearing their thoughts.

  I stopped near a thick tree, one so old and gnarled that the branches had twisted around each other, and the knots in the trunk were home to several birds. I ran my hand along the smooth bark, breathing deeply and enjoying the rush from a good sprint.

  “Here it is,” I called out.

  A young man hustled his way out from between two trees. He wore an outrageous outfit, one with a puffy collar that circled his neck like it was trying to strangle him. I had seen paintings with that kind of attire, but they were old—it was a fashion from over a century ago.

  The man with the puffy collar lumbered over, his breathing labored and his round face red. He took a moment to compose himself and even leaned heavily against the trunk of the tree. His leggings were tight, and he wore a loose and flowing red tunic, similar to those worn at formal lunch parties.

  “So far out?” the young man asked between huffs. “Are you sure?”

  “Have I ever lied to you?” I pointed to the branches above us.

  The light caught something perched between two delicate twigs. The object glinted gold and shone for a second before the leaves rustled and blocked the light again.

  I recognized the thumb-sized gem right away—a star shard. They were tiny fragments of magic that rained down from the sky. And everyone wanted them. They were rare and valuable and were used as the adhesive to bind magic to objects. Every arcanist could make use of them.

  How had one gotten in the tree? Had it gotten caught in the branches when it had fallen to the earth?

  The young man smoothed his tunic. “I can’t believe you found it.”

  I offered a confident chuckle and swished back my windswept hair. “If I say I can do something, then I can. Why do you keep questioning me, Fennis?”

  “But it’s so high up. It must be thirty-five feet above us. And this tree doesn’t look safe to climb.”

  Fennis finally caught his breath and straightened his posture. His curly brown hair and clean-shaven face seemed out of place in our wild woodland surroundings. Everything about him seemed out of place, actually. His clothing was a bit too clean, except for the sweat staining his underarms, and his short boots had a fine polish to them.

  “Feh.” I waved away his concern. “Easy. Watch this.”

  I put my foot into one of the tree’s knots and hefted myself. My clothing—or whoever I was?—included dirty boots marked with a lifetime’s worth of scuffs and a tunic that didn’t fit quite right. It reminded me of when I had been an orphan living with Gravekeeper William. Everything I had worn back then had been a hand-me-down.

  Much to my fascination, I easily scaled the giant tree. One branch, then to the next—I even kicked my legs up and hooked them around one of the tree’s limbs, working my way higher and higher. If I fell, I imagined I’d have a hundred broken bones and several ruptured organs, but whoever was driving this dream-memory didn’t seem to care.

  It was the exact opposite. I swung from the branches as though I were trying to be reckless, even going so far as to glance back down at Fennis and flash him a smirk.

  “If you fall…” Fennis said, his tone an insufferable whine.

  I laughed. “I’m not going to fall. Have a little faith.”

  Maybe I should’ve had more faith. I made my way to the star shard without incident, and even when the branch shook with my weight, I managed to stay in control just enough to grab the sparkling gem before it fell out of the twig.

  The star shard…

  The moment I grabbed it, I felt a pulse of inner power. The magic contained within could create something powerful—a trinket or an artifact—a permanent object with its own powers, much like the legendary Occult Compass.

  I had technically held some in the past, but not for long, and it had been during a point of extreme turmoil. Holding this now, even in this dream memory, was a new experience.

  I climbed back down the tree at a rash pace, practically dropping onto the branches below, no matter how much they shook or creaked. When I hit the ground, Fennis’s eyes lit up, and my face went hot in response.

  “Don’t get weak in the knees now,” I said as I tossed the star shard back and forth between my hands. “I’m just getting started. With this, we can afford passage through the Lightning Straits. We’re going places. Real places. Far from here.”

  Fennis watched the star shard with an unblinking gaze. “We’ll have more than enough for simple passage. So much more…”

  I stopped tossing the shard. “I’ll go into town and get it appraised.”

  “No,” Fennis said, a little too quickly.

  “Why not? The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

  “Well…” Fennis waved his hand around, motioning to my entire body. “Look at you. If a dirty, unlicked cub strolls into town with a star shard, they’ll think you’ve stolen it. Mark my words, they will. And then they’ll take it and we’ll have nothing.”

  I hated the assessment. It reminded me too much of my own youth. People had judged me long before they had known me—always on my appearance or family history.

  “I should sell it,” Fennis continued. He held out his hand. “My family is prominent. If I say I found it, everyone will believe me. And once I
have the coin, I can purchase passage. For the both of us.”

  Whoever I was didn’t answer. I fidgeted with the star shard, twirling it between my fingers. My palms were calloused, but I seemed skilled with my hands, like a sleight-of-hand entertainer or artist.

  Fennis smiled. “Have a little faith.”

  After a long sigh, I placed the star shard in Fennis’s soft hand. “Let me know when everything’s set.”

  The dream faded at that point.

  At first, I thought it might be over, and that I would finally awake, but a fog swirled around us, and it was like the world was rearranged. Somehow, although I didn’t know how, dream-logic told me that time had passed.

  When my vision returned, I stood at the edge of a waterfront town, staring out at the empty docks. Cobblestones filled every nook and cranny of the streets and alleys, and the houses were built close enough that someone could climb out one window and enter their neighbor’s house through another. Smoke gushed from the many chimneys that dominated the roofs. Industry only had one scent, and this town reveled in it.

  The sun set in the far distance while the waves lapped against the piers. I took a seat on a few empty crates stacked by the dock storehouse.

  “There you are.”

  I turned toward the gruff voice, my shoulders tense.

  A rough-and-tumble youth sauntered out of a dark alleyway, his copper hair so long and matted it looked like he had used a mop head as a wig, the locks falling straight to his shoulders. He wore ripped-up trousers and a tunic held in place with a leather shoulder pad.

  His face had seen better days.

  His nose had been busted, his lip split, and half his face was purple, as though his black eye had bled into the rest of his skin.

  “What’re you doing, Lynus?” I asked, my eyes narrowed. “What happened this time?”

  Lynus was in no rush as he ambled over, his hands in his pockets. Blood trickled down from his busted eyebrow as he took a seat next to me. I realized then he had walked slowly because even his side was bleeding—a few scarlet dots marked his tunic.