Captain Catrell and a few of the guardsmen began the climb down the far side. Eryn stood silently for a long moment, searching the wreckage, but from this distance it appeared that the ship had been torn apart, perhaps against the rocks of the shoreline.
Eryn pursed her lips, then turned and began a careful descent to the beach, Gellin watching her closely.
“You fisherfolk,” he said, as Eryn jumped the last stretch, landing in the loose rounded rock of the beach.
“Yes,” Eryn said. “I grew up in Tallern, on the coast.”
Gellin nodded succinctly, his eyes no longer so hostile.
Stones rattled against each other as they began to make their way to the wreckage. The guardsmen scattered out along the beach to search for more debris, some heading farther inland to scout, to where the beach gave way to overhanging needled trees and grassy underbrush. Borund and Catrell headed straight for the wreckage, Borund struggling to maneuver among the driftwood and dried seaweed at the waterline. He swore as he slid off of a piece of wood into a patch of dried, crusted seaweed, sand fleas and flies hopping and swarming around him as he danced away, yelping.
Eryn grinned, and even Gellin chuckled, but the mood sobered instantly as Eryn came up onto the wreckage.
She knelt down beside the piece of decking. The edges away from the opening to the hold were jagged with splinters, the boards ripped forcibly away, as if a giant had grabbed both ends of the deck and simply snapped it in half. But Eryn ignored the obvious signs of breakage and looked more closely at the wood, sitting forward to run her hands over its surface.
“You pulled this off the beach before the storm hit?” Eryn asked.
“Ayu.”
“And when was the last storm around here?”
Gellin squinched his face up in thought. “Last howler come two hands before.”
“Ten days,” Eryn muttered under her breath. Then, louder, “And this wasn’t here then?”
“Boy come here ever odd day,” Gellin said. “Not here two days back.”
“It could have been caught in the last storm, offshore, and just now found its way onto the beach.”
Eryn looked up at Captain Catrell’s voice. She hadn’t heard him approach, too busy examining the deck before her. “This piece is heavily pitted and waterlogged,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s been in the water a long time. And look at these markings.” She pointed to where the wood of the deck had been scarred black, a thick line running toward the opening to the hull, then angling sharply off to one side.
Catrell frowned. “Looks like the deck caught fire. I found some gouges in the mast that could have come from swords or axes. Perhaps it was piracy.”
“Perhaps.” I edged forward, hearing the doubt in Eryn’s voice. She didn’t believe it was piracy at all.
She ran her hand over the scorch marks in the wood, her frown deepening, then stood, moving across the sand and jumble of driftwood to Borund’s side at the piece of the bow of the ship. The merchant was leaning over the jagged end of the bowsprit where it had been snapped off and now jutted out of the sand. Only a section of the bow had survived where the bowsprit joined the hull. But enough of the hull to either side remained intact for Eryn to pick out the roughly carved shape of a naked woman’s head and upper body, her back arched at the junction as if supporting the weight of the ship.
As Eryn, Catrell, and Gellin approached, Borund stepped back from the largest section of the hull. “It’s definitely from Amenkor,” he said, brushing sand off of his hands and coat. “The Amenkor sigil is clear along the hull. And based on what’s left of the bowsprit and the coloration of the hull, I’d say this was the Tempest.” He turned to look at Eryn, his face mournful. “One of my ships. It was headed south, to Verano.”
“South again,” Catrell said.
Eryn nodded. “Only one of the ships that returned was from the south, and from what I could gather, that ship never strayed far from the coast. It hopped between towns on the way back, trying to trade for as much as possible in the smaller ports.”
Borund nodded. “Captain Mathew has always understood what needed to be done. And been willing to do it.”
“But he also didn’t travel that far south. Since he was entering more ports, he had to sacrifice distance. The rest of the ships were traveling farther. They had to catch the currents farther offshore.”
Borund grunted agreement.
“Then we are dealing with pirates,” Catrell surmised. “They’re hitting the trade routes off the southern coastline.”
Eryn said nothing. I could feel her disagreement though and thought of the scorch marks. The ship had clearly been attacked. The marks of a fight that Catrell had found on the remains of the mast confirmed that. Then the ship had most likely been set adrift, left to be torn apart by the storm. Or it had foundered during the attack itself.
But something wasn’t right. Eryn felt it. For now though, she seemed willing to let Borund and Catrell think it was piracy.
She turned toward the fading sunlight, shadows beginning to edge along the beach. “It’s getting dark. We should head back to the village.”
Catrell nodded, then whistled sharply, the guardsmen congregating around them as they headed back to the rocky rise and began to climb. The few clouds above were just beginning to burn a deep gold when Eryn reached the top of the rise and looked north, one hand raised to shade her eyes.
Seizing the opportunity, I edged forward, scanned the horizon and saw a blazing white light to the north, like another setting sun, much larger than the flickering flame I’d focused in on to find Eryn. Without hesitation, I gathered myself tight and as I did so I realized the Fire that lay within Eryn had a scent: old blood and freshly turned earth. An undertone, like the shadow scent Eryn had left behind after manipulating my dream.
But old blood and freshly turned earth was my scent.
The Fire in Eryn had come from me.
Startled, I paused. But Eryn dropped her hand, began to turn away. And so, without thought, I leaped for the white light on the horizon, leaving Eryn and the mystery of the White Flame inside her behind. The darkening landscape rushed past, waves edged in brittle sunlight like the clouds above, dense trees softening the edges of the rocky defiles and hidden coves below.
Then I saw the edge of the city of Amenkor, felt the presence of the throne grip me as I entered its influence, saw the throne room crowded now with guardsmen and a few Seekers at the doors, at the side entrances, Avrell and Erick on the dais talking animatedly, shouting at each other—
And I fell into my body, drew in a halting, rough gasp that hurt my chest, my heart stuttering before finding its beat.
“—don’t know what’s happening,” Avrell said, voice tightly restrained but loud.
“Bloody hells you don’t,” Erick growled. “You’re the First of the Mistress! You—”
He cut off sharply at my gasp, almost lurched forward to touch me, but Avrell clamped a hand roughly onto his arm and held him back, his knuckles white with the effort.
“Don’t touch her,” the First ordered, voice like stone. “Let her recover. I don’t know what the throne will do.” Real fear pinched his face, and I suddenly realized what he meant.
He wasn’t certain it would be me that returned.
And he was right. For all he knew, one of the voices of the throne had taken over.
Swiftly, I dove to the Fire, checked the net I’d put in place, checked the wall of Fire. The voices were seething with confusion, the maelstrom turbulent and enraged, all of them trying to gain my attention, but I ignored them all. The barriers—both the net I’d woven and the Fire itself—were intact as far as I could tell.
Not that it mattered against the Seven it seemed.
I turned my attention to Erick and Avrell, slowed my breathing, calmed my heart.
“It’s me, Va
ris,” I said, and then demanded, “What happened?”
Erick broke in first, voice rough and heated with emotion. “You went rigid, stopped breathing. I didn’t dare touch you, so I summoned Avrell.”
Avrell scoffed. “She was still breathing, just very slowly.”
“You weren’t so certain an hour ago,” Erick spat.
Avrell seemed ready to rise to the bait, so I cut in. “Enough. Why are there so many guardsmen?”
Avrell answered. “When the trance lasted more than an hour, I decided it was prudent to secure the throne room. I summoned the guardsmen, to make certain you were safe. With only Erick here, and your escort outside, you were completely vulnerable in that state.”
Meaning Avrell didn’t trust Erick, knew he wasn’t under anyone’s control like the other guardsmen. And I didn’t quite believe Avrell’s explanation that they’d been summoned for my safety. He’d called them in case one of the other voices had returned, rather than me.
Even as the thought crossed my mind, I noticed the two guardsmen to either side of the dais, hands resting casually on the pommels of their swords. Behind each, standing too close and too tense for comfort, were two Seekers, their eyes intent on me, on Erick, waiting for a sign from either of us to attack the guardsmen to protect their Mistress.
The guardsmen and the Seekers were on the verge of an all-out fight in the middle of the throne room. The tension on the river tasted slick and metallic.
I shot a hard glance at Avrell. “Call them off.”
Avrell’s gaze hardened.
“Call them off!”
With a subtle hand gesture, the two guardsmen shuddered and fell back. But they didn’t go far. The two Seekers who’d been threatening them shifted casually, placing themselves near the first set of columns, still within a few deadly steps of either guard.
Taking a small step forward, Avrell demanded, “What happened?”
I tensed. A day before I would have answered him, told him the truth, or at least most of the truth. But I could still feel the presence of the guardsmen at my back, could still taste the edge of the blades, could feel Erick enraged at Avrell’s side now that he realized Avrell’s true intent behind summoning them to the throne room.
I also realized that Avrell had spoken the truth earlier. He really didn’t know what had happened.
Drawing in a steadying breath, I said, “I was keeping an eye on Eryn. They found the wreckage. They should be returning tomorrow, as expected.”
Confusion crossed Avrell’s face. “How—?” he began, but cut himself off.
I raised a questioning eyebrow in challenge, my displeasure clear.
Avrell backed off, disgruntled.
I glared out at the guardsmen and the few Seekers spread throughout the hall. “The extra guards are no longer necessary,” I said.
After a hesitant moment, they began to file out. Outside, I saw my usual escort of palace guardsmen frowning as they passed.
As the last of the summoned guardsmen departed, I turned my glare on Avrell. “You may go as well. I’ll send for you tomorrow, after Eryn returns.”
He bristled, jaw working, but said nothing, bowing low before stalking down the hall.
Releasing the throne, I stood and stepped down from the dais, watching his retreating back with a frown.
“I didn’t realize what he’d summoned them for,” Erick said, “or I would never have let them into the throne room. I thought they could be trusted. Then, when nothing changed, when you were still . . . gone, I summoned the Seekers.”
“Some of the guardsmen can be trusted,” I said. “We’ll have to find out which ones.”
Erick nodded. “I’ll take care of it.” He hesitated, then asked, “So what did happen?”
“Exactly what I said. I followed Eryn, saw the debris from the ship.”
“And was it lost because of a storm?”
I shook my head. “No. Eryn doesn’t think it’s piracy either, but I don’t know why yet. Someone attacked the ship. Even Catrell agrees with that.”
“Who could it be? One of the other cities? Venitte? Verano? But we’ve had good relations with them all for the last twenty years, since Eryn took the throne, since before that. And as far as we know, none of them has any kind of war fleet. Nothing fit for the open ocean anyway.”
“I don’t know. But I think Eryn does. It has something to do with the marks of the fire they found on the debris.” I turned to Erick. “We’ll just have to wait and ask her.”
Chapter 7
“We have to blockade the harbor,” Eryn said as soon as she swung herself down off of her horse and handed the reins to the waiting stableboy. She was covered with dust from the road, her mount lathered with sweat from the hard ride from Colby, its muscles shuddering from the exertion.
“Where are Captain Catrell and the other guardsmen?” Erick asked. We had been waiting for Eryn at the outer gates to the palace since I’d felt her enter the city and the influence of the throne.
“Still a few hours outside of Amenkor. They couldn’t keep up, and I needed to talk to you as soon as possible,” Eryn said, shooting me a sharp warning glance. “In private.”
“Why?” Erick said. His voice was hard, eyes intent.
“Because of the fire on the deck,” I said.
That brought Eryn up short. She drew breath to say something, then noticed the array of palace guardsmen that surrounded us. Grunting, she said sharply, “The gardens.”
Eryn led the way, clearly puzzled as to how I knew about the fire on the shipwreck in Colby, but willing to wait until there was no one able to overhear. When we passed through an archway out into open sunlight and the gardens, I motioned the escorting guardsmen back and proceeded with Erick to a small section of the garden flanked by a few trees surrounding two stone benches, Eryn in front of us.
The moment the guardsmen were out of earshot, Eryn straightened, brow creased in a frown, her stance imperious. “How did you know?”
I hesitated. But I had to trust someone. If Eryn had wanted the throne back, she could have taken it by now. She could have killed me “accidentally” during one of our private training sessions here in the gardens, could have touched the throne while I was searching for the presence behind the dream, or at any other time for that matter since she knew how to conceal herself from the guardsmen using the Sight. But all I’d seen whenever she was in the presence of the throne was terror.
No. Eryn didn’t want the throne. But she was having a hard time giving up being the Mistress.
I drew in a deep breath. “I saw the wreckage on the beach. I saw the mast, the deck, the broken bowsprit. I saw it all through your eyes.”
Eryn’s eyes clouded with confusion. “You Reached even after I warned you not to? You Reached all the way to Colby? How is that even possible? How could you even see that far beyond Amenkor, when the throne has no influence there?”
“I had something to focus on, to guide the Reaching,” I answered, then continued before Eryn could respond. “It’s the White Fire. There’s a small flame of it burning inside you, which is what caught my attention in the first place. I used that to Reach out toward you. After that it was like watching everything through your eyes. I saw everything you saw, tasted everything, touched it.” I halted, on the verge of telling her that for a moment I had almost seized control, knew that I could if necessary.
But trust only went so far. And there was no way to tell how she’d react to that after fighting the voices within the throne for so long.
Eryn didn’t believe me. I could see it in her eyes.
“What were we served by the fisherwoman when we arrived in Colby?” she asked.
I sighed. “Rabbit stew. You didn’t want to take it because you knew they had little enough to eat—you know what life is like in a fishing village—but thought it would be polite to accept
a small cup. You forced Captain Catrell and Borund to eat some as well. The village’s elder, Gellin, was a little rude, but his wife put him in his place before he took you to the wreckage.”
Eryn’s eyes widened as I spoke. Now she whispered, under her breath, “Mistress’ tits! You really were there.”
Erick seemed startled by the curse.
“Oh, please,” Eryn said, waving a hand dismissively at his raised eyebrows. “I grew up in a fishing village. I knew worse curses than that before I was five.” Then she turned to me, her eyes narrowing down to slits. “Is the Fire still there? Can you see it now?”
I slid beneath the river, felt the throne augment my power, felt the guards at the two main entrances to the gardens, felt the stronger eddies of the city waiting outside . . . but drew myself away from those currents reluctantly, turning my attention on Eryn instead. I could sense the voices of the throne watching intently, somehow more focused and calm than usual.
“Yes,” I said. “But it’s harder to see it now. When I was looking from the top of the tower before, when you were in Colby, it seemed much brighter, like a beacon.”
I withdrew from the river. Eryn began pacing, deep in thought. “It must be the throne. The power here in Amenkor is so dense, almost like a weight, a cloak. The currents must be masking the Fire. But that still doesn’t explain how the Fire got there in the first place. Could it have been left behind when the Fire passed through the city six years ago, as happened to you? But why didn’t I sense it then, as you did? Why can’t I sense it now?”
I suddenly remembered that moment in the throne room, after the shadow Eryn, still trapped inside the throne, had shown me the vision of the city burning to the ground. I’d shoved the vision away, felt something tear in the process, heard Eryn scream. . . .
“The Fire came from me,” I said. “It has my scent—old blood and fresh earth.”
Eryn stopped pacing, a hundred questions in her eyes.
But Erick cleared his throat and said curtly, “The pattern of fire on the wreckage?”
Eryn frowned in annoyance. “Of course. We can discuss the Fire later.” She motioned to the stone benches along the garden path. Eryn and I sat; Erick remained standing.
The Throne of Amenkor Page 50
