Seaborn 03 - Sea Throne

by Chris Howard

  "Take Jill and dad to Stormwind. Henderson's already there. Kill anyone in your way!"

  She spun at the head of the stairs, flew into the living room, jumped a chair, and landed in the entry way, sharp stabs of water whirring by her. The war-bard snatched a few of them out of the air, deflecting the rest into walls, one into Zypheria's leg, throwing her to the floor.

  Kassandra shook off a tear and Ochleros appeared, a moment's distraction for the Kirkelatides. It gave Kassandra time to will on her armor, smooth flowing metal, yellow bands racing, blue seams flexing with her next move.

  Zypheria crawled to her feet, dragging Gregor with her, out the back door, into the yard. Nicole had her sword out, leading the way—Jill with her, sprinting across the grass.

  Kassandra looked up in horror as Ochleros spread into life across the couch and chairs, claws expanding, teeth open for attack. Theoxena's song hit him, a ripple of distortion, his body disintegrating, a punch of follow-on force, and the demon vanished in a trailing seawater splatter across the ceiling into the dining room. He rained down on the furniture, the rugs, the dining room table.

  Theoxena turned toward the woman with darksea eyes, her short hair dancing and swaying like the ocean in a storm, blue streaks coiling angrily. Songs queued up in the war-bard's soul, a rapid release of them, taking command of the terrain, chairs shredded apart, skidded to the walls, clearing space for combat, plaster walls snapped, lightning bolt lines of fracture running to every joint, corner, ceiling, before they broke and blew out with clouds of dust. Trees in the yard, froze solid and splintered, coming down across the road.

  Kassandra drew her sword and swung.

  Theoxena didn't recognize her opponent, but hooked her fingers, let a song catch the woman's sword in mid-swing, felt her song try to twist the metal and fail, pushed another string of notes along that path just to stop the blade from coming through her throat, gasping, "Who are—?"

  Then she knew, and the songs stopped in her mouth, a moment of shock so deep it made her knees shake. Kassandra's crown flared into life, blinded her. The sword in her left hand shuddered with her strength, but remained locked in the song's vise.

  Then she saw what was in the woman's right fist, felt the point of the trident's end, sharp against her chest.

  Kassandra caught her soul, held its focus on her, but didn't attempt to climb into her, just enough push to keep her attention. "Theoxena of the Kirkêlatides. We meet in close quarters at last."

  The war-bard swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth.

  "Theoxena, please stop what you are about to do. Your husband did not die at the hands of my father."

  This goddess was pleading her.

  "Don't do this. Tharsaleos killed Lord Epandros—and I broke Epandros' bones in the final battle with the Olethren. Tharsaleos bound his soul to that army. Epandros led an eighth of the two-hundred and forty thousand dead. He blew a horn you made for the Eight. You—the great Kirkelatides have been duped by my grandfather. Please stop this before it is too late. Look into your soul and make these connections. The demon Ochleros, my old friend—you just broke him against the ceiling—Ochleros honored Epandros and the rest of the dead oktoloi with a final burial. I will take you to your husband's grave, show you the horn he possessed in death. Please stop this settling of scores against my father. He is innocen—"

  Kassandra grunted, bent with pain, her fingers slipping off her sword. Her father's bleed rammed into her soul in one remaining punch.

  Theoxena backed up a step.

  "Too late." When Kassandra straightened, it was no longer her, there was no warmth, no pleading, no humanity in her eyes. Sharks teeth and demon's eyes. She was the Sea, some thing, not someone. And she pulled her sword from the song that held it, looked at it, and tossed it away, ringing across the wood floor.

  She drove the trident through Theoxena's body, shattered bone, crushed her heart, snapped vertebrae apart, sliding out of the war-bard's back bloody.

  Theoxena's mouth sagged open, tongue moving to say something. Kassandra beat her to it, her voice smooth as a tide, and arctic cold. "That is for Ephoros." Theoxena's legs collapsed, her body sagging like a doll. Kassandra held her up skewered on the trident's end. "That is for Ochleros. That is for being a fool whore sell-out to the king of the seaborn, Tharsaleos. That is for bringing down the walls of the Rexenor fortress so many years ago. That is for playing a part in my father's death."

  The Sea turned, and with a curl of her fingers, assembled Ochleros from the all the water dripping off the ceiling, soaking into the furniture. And when she called, he bowed low to her, following her under the house into the Atlantic.

  Gregor kicked hard, fought the surf, and went under, sliding deeper into the Atlantic. Zypheria swam on his left, Nicole on his right, Jill holding her hand. Without warning, Gregor kicked wide, palming the water to slide sideways, shouldering by Zypheria.

  He heard someone calling his name.

  He opened his mouth, caught somewhere between joy and indecision. He couldn't speak, his throat still burning. He looked over at Nicole, excited. He tried forming the words, mouthing them. He gave up. Only one voice like that in the ocean. It is my dear Barenis, my dragon. Calling for me. He drove his legs harder, Nicole reaching for him to slow him down. He found her actions inexplicable—as much as she did his. He pointed vigorously. Let me go. It is Barenis. She has found me.

  Ampharete's excited voice hit his thoughts, It is Barenis?

  Her throat burned raw, Zypheria mouthed the word to Nicole, "Trap." Again when she shook her head, not understanding.

  Then she got it.

  Nicole dragged Jill under Gregor, reached up with her sword, and slapped him with the flat across his ankles. "Trap!"

  He shook his head sadly. It is my dragon. Do not be afraid.

  Nicole kicked back in terror, the giant head of a monster coming into view in the dark, horns, and curled teeth and tusks, two great pale eyes, watching Gregor. Zypheria spun in a circle, nearly colliding with Gregor who had stopped his mad rush for safety.

  He smiled, then it faded off his face. His mouth opened, pleading, head shaking.

  Nikasia kicked out in front of Barenis, songs locked down, three snapped off her fingers, winding up the legs of Zypheria, Nicole, and Jill, and then weight on their bodies too great for them to fight, dragging them to the floor of the ocean.

  She kicked closer to the man who murdered her father, her song came out half screaming rage, enough control to bind his arms to his sides. "One chance, you animal. Tell me how my father died. Try to convince me that you were not the one. Speak!" She pointed, commanding, her hand shaking. "One chance! I am Nikasia of the Kirkêlatides, daughter of Theoxena war-bard to King Tharsaleos, daughter of Lord Epandros of Dosianax, who died by your hand. I will give you something you did not give my father. Tell me you did not do it!"

  Gregor opened his mouth, gagged against the pain, made a scratching noise deep in his throat. He shook his head, pleading with her. I didn't kill!

  Ampharete screamed at him in his head, begging him to find his voice, to answer.

  Nikasia shrieked, a painful burst of feelings, her tears like blurry tentacles around her face. "Speak! Tell me what you did to my father. How did he die? Did he say anything? What were his last words? Speak, Rexenor animal, or die."

  She screamed at his silence in frustration and rage, a wail of pain to her core. She kicked closer, caught his eyes, tried to claw her way into his soul. It was locked against her, solid walls, and vault doors, nothing for her to see, nothing to hear, no way to penetrate his defenses.

  "I have waited all my life for this moment. You will not rob me of an answer!"

  He stared at her piteously, mouth half open, shaking his head. She gave him one more moment, looked for a sign of his voice, cried battle, and brought up her hands, released her songs, froze the ocean around them. Barenis made an animal's screech, and shrunk back.

  A sharp spike of water hard as iron and
as long as Nikasia's forearm fired out of her song-bending fingers. He cupped his hands, swung them wildly, trying to dodge it, a twist of a silent scream on his features. The point went through his chest, compressing bone and organs, snapping his spine, taking everything with it, out of the center of his back in a spray of blood and twisting fragments of hard tissue. The force flipped him upside down. He looked down at his body, stared at the hole in his chest, shaking fingers curling in to touch it in disbelief. He gave up trying find sense in this.

  Somewhere inside him, Ampharete was sobbing.

  Gregor Lord Rexenor looked at Nikasia, an expression of pity on his face when he saw the pain in hers. Nikasia of the Kirkêlatides was still in pain. It was pain he had not caused, and he wondered how that could be? Through lies of the king, he had ruined her life. She had spent her entire life hunting him, killing him, spending it all. And it had not made her whole, nothing had been made right, no balance in the world had been reached.

  He tried to smile at her, to tell her that he understood that kind of sorrow, that kind of drive to right the world, that House Rexenor had been exiles for hundreds of years, hated for thousands, that no one except perhaps the ruler of the seas could make it right again. Kassandra can make it right. Let her make her own path. That had always been his first rule with Kassandra and Jill and Nicole. He may not have agreed with many of Kassandra's choices, but if anyone could bring the world into balance it would be her.

  Then he wondered in his last moment where Kassandra was. He didn't see Jill or Nicole. They had been with him moments before. He wanted to say goodbye. He wanted to say goodbye for Ampharete. He wanted...

  He felt cold.

  The life faded from his eyes.

  Kassandra found Nikasia and her father floating in the gloom not far offshore, Gregor upside down, a hole in his chest, dead, his eyes open, one of his arms outstretched, fingers clawing the water, looking for her.

  Nikasia shivered, arms wrapped around, holding herself, her eyes closed in pain, squeezed tight against a shuddering dizzy motion in her stomach.

  Nicole and Jill kicked up from the depths with Zypheria, frantic, slowing when they saw Kassandra reaching out a hand to close Gregor's eyes. And all the fury of the flight and trap caught up to them, and Nicole pulled up her sword to charge Nikasia.

  Kassandra looked at her, shook her head, and waved her sword away. "Not now, Nicole. Not when it will serve no purpose or bring our father back." She pointed at Nikasia. "She is nothing but a tool of Tharsaleos' lies. The tool cannot be blamed." Her gaze swung to Jill, sobbing hard, choppy wracking cries, as she held Gregor in her arms, ignored the blood seeping into her clothes.

  Nicole, still angry and scowling, jutted her chin at Theoxena's limp form in Kassandra's arms. "What of her? I cannot kill the daughter, but you can kill the mother?"

  Kassandra sighed. "Nicole, I did not have time to finish our talk before the Kirkêlatides attacked. I will tell you more—and why you cannot—when we next have the chance."

  Kassandra kicked over to Nikasia, looking up into Barenis' big pale eyes set in deep angular sockets. "Dragon. I will have Nikasia only for a moment, and then you may depart with her." She adjusted Theoxena's body to her right arm, reached out and lifted Nikasia's chin, leveling her eyes with her own. "Nikasia of the Kirkêlatides? Wake and listen to my words."

  Nikasia opened her eyes, blinking and confused, as if she had just slid out of a dream, shock twisting her features when she saw her mother's body. Kassandra caught the descendent of Circe, and wouldn't let her go. "Listen to me, Nikasia. I will not harm you. I will let you go. But you must hear me first."

  Kassandra was inside her soul a moment later, showed her the burial place for the trusted Eight of the cursed king Tharsaleos. Showed her Epandros as she had seen him, dead, his soul bound by the king, marching with the Olethren. She told her everything she had told Theoxena.

  Kassandra released her, and Nikasia nodded, her face frozen in terror, but there was nothing but loss in her eyes, they were empty, the fire of her hate had died, and left nothing behind. She took Theoxena from Kassandra, and bowed deeply. "I am so sorry." She swung over Barenis' neck, holding her mother tight, and turned south, vanishing into the infinite blue.

  The three daughters of the Lord of Rexenor brought his body home to the fortress in the deep north, and the funeral was held for Gregor Lord Rexenor and Lady Ampharete of the Alkimides, both having perished at the songs of the Kirkêlatides acting on the lies of the king.

  Kassandra and Nicole and Jill mourned in the deep with all of House Rexenor for one day, before they departed to finish what Kassandra called, "icing the cake." But she said it with acid, all the subtlety of a sloppy decapitation, adding, "It's time the seaborn had a new ruler."

  Chapter 31 - Storm Eating

  Jill looked out at the choppy gray Atlantic, a nor'easter blowing in, hovering over the Gulf of Maine—and not one boat going out in it, nothing man-made and floating on the scopes. "I promised," she told Michael Henderson. It didn't mean she wanted to go out in it.

  The harbormaster called and sent someone down to warn the skipper of the perils of taking even a cutter like Stormwind out in weather like the gray rage brewing outside the breakwaters. The man in the bright yellow coat yelled at her from the edge of the pier, waving frantically. She ignored him, running out of the harbor under power, the bow already tipping steeply into the swells.

  She gave Alex and Kaffia, Elizabeth—and even Bachoris—an apologetic smile, and stared intently into the storm when they shot her questioning looks, elbowing Nicole to do something about it, "You explain what's going on."

  Her sister gave her a resigned look and unzipped her jacket, stepping out of her pants. She pulled her sword from bench storage, latching to the hooks running up the back of her armor.

  Zypheria got up from the bench with her, stripping down to her armor, pulling out an array of weapons, a crossbow, a sword, eight knives that went into sheathes up her legs, a harness full of bolts and darts, with a lanyard that ran to the crossbow so that it hung free under her left arm—which probably made more sense in underwater combat. She looked over at the three travelers, smirked, and flexed her hand, a flash of the webbing between her fingers.

  Michael yelled something from midships, waving, gestured to the mast, lines, sails, and Jill yelled back, made a responding set of signals. The mainsail went up, and Jill tacked into the wind, zigzagging her way out into open sea, very rough sea, sharp green-gray mountains of water, deep valleys of foam and turbulence.

  Holding on to the lines, ducking under the boom, Nicole made her way with firmly placed steps to Alex, Kaffia, Elizabeth Shoaler, and Bachoris, all of them huddled on the portside bench, hoods pulled low, bent forward, hanging on to their seats with tight knuckles. Bachoris stared at the deck, clutching at his raincoat as if the wind was going to take off with it. Alex was looking along the length of the boat, facing the bow. Kaffia looked up.

  Nicole had no idea what Kassandra wanted her to tell them. Her directions were clear, though, do whatever it takes to get them aboard. Promise anything. Just make sure all of them are with you when you head out of Rye Harbor.

  Well, there it was. Promise anything. "Sorry about this," she shouted over the wind, raising her arm, giving the whole storm a sweep. "Kass will take care of all of it, once we get out there." She had no idea if that was true, but it sounded good.

  She wasn't sure if they were buying it anyway. Kaffia pointing at her, yelling something that took her a minute to decipher.

  "Armor?" She shrugged, ignoring Zypheria gearing up behind her. She shook her head, yelling, "I love the way it feels. I'm always wearing it. No, we're not expecting any trouble. Well, not until later. Nothing here on the surface." She leaned down to Kaffia, her hand cupped to her ear. "What?"

  Glaring up at Nicole, Kaffia shouted, "I said, just great!"

  Clark Gerdes stopped off in the kitchen for a coffee refill before heading into the control center
to watch the progress of a storm system rotating into the New Hampshire and Maine coast. A good old normal nor'easter. A weather pattern seen over and over again, every year off the New England coast.

  He took a sip, thumbing through the display to see if the simulation team had come up with anything to explain the rapid drop in sea levels, which ended up being close to eight centimeters in a two hour period, and then nothing, a new stable floor had been reached. The water had simply vanished, billions of cubic meters of ocean had gone somewhere, filled some basin, poured into some whole in the world...just not this world.

  And nothing—not a word—from the sim team looking into it, model building, running profile after profile, hiring consultants, oceanographic researchers, banging their heads against the anomaly. The water had vanished.

  Another sip of coffee.

  Alex stood up, pointing. Nicole swung toward the bow, following his line of sight. Kassandra was standing in the water, sliding down the face of a wave, Stormwind's bow rising to meet her. They met somewhere in the middle of the wave, and Kassandra stepped aboard easily, holding a dark-haired woman under the arms, planting her feet apart to help one more guest aboard.

  Nicole braced her own feet, glancing back at Jill's worried too-many-strangers-on-my-boat look. She turned to stand beside Kaffia, wanting to hear Kassandra's explanation as much as any of them. "Where have you been? What took so long?"

  The Sea looked back at her, a lifeless stare, and Nicole glanced away uncomfortably, seeing less Kassandra in the eyes since the Kirkêlatides had killed Gregor. Kassandra's voice was low but carried perfectly through the storm. "I had to kill an immortal."

  Nicole waited for an explanation, hoping for a hint of humor, and then held out her hand to Kassandra's guest. "Hello. I'm Nicole."