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Finding the Suun

Page 3

by J. A. Culican


  This time, Estrid led us through the crowd. No one tried to stop us. I wondered what they were thinking. Probably that we were kidnapping her, being that we were savage D'ahvol and all.

  I heard the auctioneer yelling something at the guards, his voice high with panic. "Faster," I urged, putting my hands on Estrid's back.

  We were through the crowd and rushing down the market street when I spotted Arun admiring silver baubles at one of the stalls. I shouted for him to go, grabbing his shoulder as we passed and dragging him along.

  "What in Onen's name?" He looked back, confused, then his eyes widened. I didn't want to know what he saw behind us.

  "I'll explain when we're on the ship," I said breathlessly.

  "That seems like it would be best."

  We were already down the pier before Mr. Trisfina's scribe emerged from the dock house, shouting for us to stop. His shouts were quickly swallowed by the pounding steps of the guards in pursuit. Luckily, Captain Wynleth seemed to have seen us and was already preparing the Wind Wraith for departure.

  On board, my sister and I drew in the gangplank while Erik and Arun dropped Aysche to the deck. We pulled out of the slip almost immediately, the sails filling with wind as Wynleth shouted orders at her crew. She was no longer the hurt, angry cousin, but had become once again the captain of her ship.

  It wasn't until we were well out of sight of Fairlow that she turned the wheel over to Renwick and came down to stand over us, arms crossed and face grim. "I do believe that you owe me an explanation. I know you do not understand the ways of the elves, but that doesn't give you the right to steal from us just because you disagree with our practices."

  Erik pulled the slip of paper from his pocket and handed it up to her. "You're telling me that the elves condone dealing in kidnapped humans?"

  I sidled up beside Wynleth and looked over her shoulder. It was a bill of sale, with Aysche's name listed as "Unknown Luthair." Her seller was listed as "Unknown Dragon." There was a note scrawled below indicating that she'd been captured in the valley below Barepost and that she claimed to be the governor's niece, although her appearance would suggest otherwise. She had looked awful after the fight with the ur’gels, nothing like the little princess she always pretended to be. And the dragons did have an ongoing conflict with Governor Luthair, ever since they'd ruined one of his trading ships and he'd captured one of their own, enslaving it in the mines. Arun had freed that dragon, but then Luthair's men had killed the dragons who were left guarding the Iron Duchess on top of the plateau. Now the dragons had stolen the governor's niece from her home. It was a never-ending circle of revenge.

  "This woman is the niece of Governor Luthair of Barepost," Estrid explained from her place at the captain's other shoulder.

  Captain Wynleth balled the paper in her fist. "Perhaps he sold her to the dragons."

  I cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at her. "He would never do that," I said, surprised that I was defending him, but absolutely certain in my conviction. He was conniving and cruel, but he would never have allowed a legitimate Luthair to be sold into slavery.

  "My uncle will have to answer to the guards," she said, her forehead wrinkled with frown lines as she stared down at Aysche. "He let us land."

  I pulled out the compass and the rock and held them together, waiting for direction. It once again pointed us to the east. "Did you tell him where we were going?"

  She shook her head. "Only that we were headed east."

  "Maybe we should go south for a while to throw them off."

  Captain Wynleth's cocky smile returned. "They'll never catch the Wind Wraith." She returned to her place at the helm, barking something at Renwick who slinked away.

  Erik was trying to coax fresh water down Aysche's throat. She had enough of her wits about her to turn her head away, refusing the water and instead letting it dribble down her chin, but she still didn't speak. Stiarna nibbled at Aysche's loose hair but got no reaction from the girl and abandoned her, returning to her spot at the bow of the ship.

  Arun was standing nearby, staring down at them, his brow furrowed. His eyes were distant though, somewhere far away, but when he felt me looking at him, he snapped back to the present moment, looking from me to Erik, then to Estrid on his other side. "There's something else."

  "Something else? What do you mean?" I shoved my hand through my hair, bracing myself for whatever else could possibly be happening.

  "Lord—Mr. Trisfina told me that Tsarra had returned to Fairlow but left again not long ago, and he doesn't know where she went."

  "Okay…," I said slowly.

  "She left with, as Mr. Trisfina put it, 'a human woman with golden hair and a smile that made him want to kill someone.’"

  I groaned and turned away from the group. The fall from the airship hadn't killed her, then. I should have put my ax through her heart.

  Erik sighed, not looking up. "Savarah."

  The name sent a shiver down my spine. I definitely didn't like the reverent way Erik said it. He'd turned her away once, but I didn't know if he would be able to do it again.

  Estrid was the one to wonder aloud, "What is she up to now?"

  Unfortunately, none of us had any answers.

  All we could do was continue on our way and wait for her to show herself.

  Chapter 4

  We flew east all afternoon and did not come across another plateau peeking above the veil. I was glad for it, not sure if I would be ready to face whatever waited for us at our destination, especially if it had to do with Savarah. She'd been a thorn in my side since my friend Harbin had brought her to me. I wondered now if he'd been under her influence when he'd done so, and if he ever would have otherwise. A part of me regretted ever accepting her mission to free Arun, but another part of me knew if I hadn't, I never would have met the elf or left Barepost.

  Captain Wynleth checked in with me regularly, but the wayfinder's stone did not change, guiding us ever eastward. The clouds rolled below us, thick and impenetrable, a sea of white and grey. The sun chased us until finally letting us go, dipping below the veil, and plunging our world into darkness. The crew of the Wind Wraith ran along the railing, activating the yooperlite lanterns on the posts until we were in our own circle of dull yellow light.

  It seemed like it was only at night, when everyone else was sleeping, that Arun and I were able to find time to talk. I hadn't seen him the rest of the afternoon, so I went looking for him after my siblings had retired to our cabin, taking Aysche, who was still practically catatonic, with them.

  I found him at the helm, talking to the captain. Neither of them heard me approach from below, and it wasn't until I was close that I realized exactly how near to each other the two of them were standing.

  Arun was leaning against the railing beside the wheel, his face just inches from hers. "So, that's why you hate me, then? Because of the issue with Trisfina?"

  The captain did not move away from him. Instead, she looked him right in the eyes. "No."

  "There's something else?" Arun smiled, and I didn't like the way he said it. Like there was another meaning to his words, one that I would never understand.

  "There's always something else," she confirmed, smiling back at him. It wasn't a kind smile, or a mean one. But … something else.

  "I don't think you really hate me at all." Arun leaned away, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "I think you admire me."

  She looked away from him finally, trying and failing to suppress a smile. "You're crazy."

  But I didn't think he was. I thought she maybe more than admired him, in spite of the fact they were constantly at each other's throats. And it made sense. They were from the same world. A world that had no place for someone like me.

  Feeling silly for ever thinking it was anything more than a companionship of necessity with Arun, I slunk away without being seen.

  Below deck, I fell into the cot above Aysche, determined to only wallow in self-pity until the sun rose. My wallowing was interrupt
ed, though, by a husky voice from the cot below me.

  "Frida?"

  After only a small hesitation, I leaned over the edge of my own cot and peered down at Aysche. "I didn't know you actually knew my name." Usually I was ‘monster,’ or ‘Svand,’ or ‘D'ahvol savage’. I didn't know if I'd ever heard her use my name.

  "I … I'm not … I don't know—"

  "How to thank us?"

  "No, I mean, no, I don't know what happened."

  I had never heard her sound so uncertain. "The dragons kidnapped you and sold you into slavery on Lamruil. The savage Svand siblings arrived just in time to rescue you before you were sold at auction into some elven household."

  "Sold? Slavery? My uncle—"

  "As far as we can tell, Luthair had nothing to do with it."

  "Where are you taking me?"

  "You're along for the ride for now." The cot creaked as I shifted, preparing myself to show her a bit of kindness she had never shown me. "But we'll find a way to get you home. Or wherever you want to go. I promise."

  She nodded without thanking me, and her eyes grew distant again.

  I withdrew back over the edge, but there was one more thing I needed to know. "Do I need to worry about you stabbing me in the back while I sleep?"

  "No." I could hear the smile in her voice, a rarity for her. "Not tonight, anyway."

  "Truce?" I smiled at the ceiling.

  "Truce," she answered.

  I spent the rest of the night drifting in and out of a restless sleep. Once, I woke to check on Aysche only to find Erik already sitting with her, talking to her in low whispers. Arun's cot across from me was empty. I turned my back to the room and went back to sleep.

  Captain Wynleth came for me in the morning, waking me before anyone else. To be frank, she was the last person I wanted to see first thing in the morning, but there she was, leaning over me, dark circles beneath her eyes.

  "What?" I snapped. Our cabin had no windows and was dark, so I had no way of even knowing what time it was.

  "There's a plateau ahead. I need to know if this is it."

  I followed her to the deck. Arun was already—or still? —there, though Renwick was the one holding the wheel. He offered me a smile but I turned away, chasing the captain as she made her way to the front of the ship. A plateau loomed over the clouds. There was something familiar about it, and as we drew nearer, I made out the shape of a fence and a burned guardhouse beside the gate.

  My chest was burning, and I thought it was from the shock of seeing this place again, but then I realized it was the rock in my vest pocket, where it sat beside the closed compass that hung around my neck. I pulled it out, barely able to touch it for fear of burning my hand. The whole thing was lit up.

  I moaned. "It can't be."

  Captain Wynleth looked down at the stone. "Seems like it is."

  Arun appeared then, squinting at the plateau. "Is that…?"

  I nodded. "Captain, can you take us below the veil?"

  She scoffed. "Are you crazy? Do you know what's below the veil?"

  "More than most. But I need to confirm where we are."

  Even though she looked like she wanted to argue, she surprisingly bit her tongue and returned to the helm. After a few tense, silent moments, we began to descend.

  When we were completely immersed in the white clouds of the veil and couldn't see anyone else, Arun turned to me. "Are you okay?"

  "Fine," I said curtly. I told myself I was glad for the reminder of who I was. Glad that I would be able to push him away before he got any closer.

  "You don't seem fine."

  Then we were below the veil and there it was: the one place I'd been so desperate to leave for years. Barepost was a bowl of brown dust, hazy in the light of the rising sun. Without looking at him, I said, "Well, I guess I've been better."

  Captain Wynleth took us back up and hovered at the edge of the higher plateau where Arun had left the Iron Duchess when he'd come to Barepost the first time.

  Arun eyed the area dubiously as she sat her ship down in the clearing. "Last time I docked here, Luthair killed my crew and destroyed my ship." He didn't mention that his crew had been a group of delinquent dragons.

  But the captain wasn't concerned. "He can try. My crew is a little more dangerous than they might look."

  As if to prove her point, Renwick took a seat on the bowsprit beside Stiarna and began sharpening a knife he'd pulled from some hidden place against a small whetstone. The other men were disembarking, setting up tents, and gathering firewood.

  "Maybe I should stay," Arun said to no one in particular.

  I hated the tightening in my chest that his words caused. "You can do what you like."

  Erik and Estrid appeared with Aysche trailing behind them. She was dressed in Estrid's spare set of clothes and looked incredibly uncomfortable in the too-big breeches. She kept tugging at the waistband and pulling the tunic down in an attempt to cover herself. Her hair, still unwashed, was pulled back in a tight, braided knot in the Ahvoli style.

  I raised my eyebrows at her.

  "Don't. Say. Anything." Her voice was regaining its former fire.

  Laughing, I said, "Looks like we'll be taking you home sooner than we thought."

  She held her arms out at her side and looked down at herself. "Fine with me. At least I'll be able to change into something more…"

  "Suitable?" Estrid offered, shooting the girl a warning look before she could insult the only clothes available to her in front of their former owner.

  Aysche, to my surprise, looked cowed. "Yes. Suitable."

  Erik took Aysche by the elbow, and to my surprise, the girl didn't pull away from him. "I'll take Aysche home. It will give me the opportunity to speak to Luthair and make things right between us."

  My eyes darted over to Estrid and she shrugged. I didn't think that was such a clever idea. Honestly, I would be fine dropping Aysche at the gate and never seeing her uncle again. But if Estrid was allowing it, then I wouldn't object. Luthair couldn't do anything to Erik, not anymore. He himself had made the bargain and lost the fight that freed Erik from his life-debt, even if it wasn't the way Erik would have preferred to do it.

  I nodded at my brother and called to the griffin, who stood lazily, stretched, and then trotted over to where I stood. "She'll be our fastest way down."

  Erik eyed the creature suspiciously but agreed.

  Aysche was more reluctant. When Stiarna approached her, they eyed each other cautiously, like two animals sizing each other up before a fight. Thankfully, though, neither decided the other was worth it and Stiarna turned away with a small huff.

  We walked the path back to the edge of the plateau. The bodies had been cleared, but the ground was still stained red-brown with blood in places. The guardhouse that had burned after a galestone pistol had exploded was a blackened skeleton. There were no signs of any life. Stiarna took Erik and Aysche down first. I heard a sharp intake of breath as she leapt from the cliffside, but both of them managed not to scream. She came back for Estrid and me and we soared down, my legs lodged behind her powerful wings and Estrid's arms around my waist.

  The four of us moved toward the town in silence. I didn't know about everyone else, but this place certainly brought back some unwelcome memories. Not only that, but as we drew nearer, I felt increasingly anxious for reasons I couldn't quite put my finger on. Outside the gates, I checked the rock. It still wanted us to go inside, so we approached the open gate with caution. But no one stopped us. The guards watched us pass but did not call to us or ask us our business here. It felt strangely like walking into a trap.

  "Do you want to announce yourself to the guards?" Erik asked Aysche. The guards had not differentiated her from us.

  Aysche put a hand on his arm. "No. I'll stick with you. I can't trust them anymore."

  I didn't know if it was just the changing light of the morning sun, or if Erik's cheeks really did flush pink. It was strange to see them this way. He'd always thought
her spoiled, and she'd always hated us unequivocally. But if anyone knew that there were some things in life that changed a person's outlook, it was us. And we wouldn't begrudge Aysche the right to do the same.

  The streets were packed with morning crowds as everyone moved to work or went to the market to buy food for the day's meals. Some people noticed us with leery glances, while still others called good-naturedly to my brother, who still had Aysche hanging off his arm. Estrid and I walked behind them, rolling our eyes at each other. Every now and then, I ducked into an alley to orient the compass and check the rock, but every time, it kept us moving through town. It seemed silly to hide every time I wanted to look at it, but the last thing I needed was someone seeing and it getting back to Savarah that I had a special rock guiding me on my mission. Even if she didn't know what that mission was, I knew she would try to stop it.

  We were weaving through a particularly crowded street when Estrid bumped into a man's shoulder. The man wheeled on her, fists clenched. Estrid held up her hands and took a step back.

  "Watch where you're going, D'ahvol," the man spat at my sister.

  I scowled at him over Estrid's shoulder. "It was an accident."

  "Well, you should be more careful."

  But I wasn't listening to the man anymore. I was listening to the crowd. The sound of bickering and general malcontent crashed over me like a wave. It seemed to originate from the very direction the stone wanted me to go. I stepped aside, pulling Estrid with me. Erik and Aysche followed. We ducked beneath the eaves of the nearby shop, even Stiarna, who wrapped her tail around herself to keep it out of the street.

  "Do you feel it?" I asked.

  Estrid nodded. "Yes. I don't like it. It feels like…"

  "I know." It felt like Savarah. The stone was burning hot in my hand, the light still pointing in the same direction. "What do we do?"

 

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