Threats of Sky and Sea

by Jennifer Ellision

  Not your ladies, Bree, I have to remind myself. The king’s ladies. I haven’t seen them since departing for Aleta’s banquet last night.

  “What?” I ask flatly. Before, I’d have been delicate. I’d have wanted to please them, to make them proud that I was learning their courtly ways. Now, I only want to repay them for making me trust them when my trust was unwarranted.

  Emis winces at my tone, and I revel in it.

  “H-His Majesty asked that we return to your service,” Gisela reminds me, a nervous eye on Aleta’s door. “And Her Highness.”

  “He asked that you return to reporting on us,” I correct her. As one, their mouths clamp shut. “It’s not as though we’ve a choice in the matter anyway.”

  Well, I intend to make their time useless then. No longer will I employ any sort of candor when addressing them. They want me to play the part of nobility so badly? They’ll get it. I’ll give them my orders, stay distant, and shut them out as soon as possible.

  Gisela forces a smile. “Is Her Highness up and about? We’re to escort the two of you to the docks.”

  I wave a hand at Aleta’s door. “She’s up.” Wait. Had Gisela said—“Docks?” I try to tamp down the eagerness in my voice. Docks mean ships. Ships mean water.

  A splash comes from the washbasin behind me, and it’s like the cold liquid is tossed over my head as I come to a realization: if the king wants me around water after last night, I’m sure there’s a reason.

  Thirty

  At the docks, the scent of salt tinges the air, and I sweat beneath my corset, cursing the sadist who invented it. With the weight of my perspiration soaked into the thing, it’s a small marvel that I’m even standing.

  The sun is a ball of light above us in a cloudless blue sky. Beside me, Aleta breathes easily in the stifling air. Even the rare breeze that blows by today just teases us with relief before snatching it away.

  A ship stretches above us, its mast shooting straight up into the sky. Plum sails are bound around it. I shade my eyes against the sun as I look up. It looks a part of the atmosphere, there, like it’s painted against it. I can hardly tell where the scenery ends and the ship begins.

  It rests upon the ocean—a vast body of water that glitters with secrets. Well, not exactly the ocean, but a port to it. The water is corralled, a bit calmer than the wild sea at the foot of the palace cliffs. I’ve felt cowed before it in the past, with all of its varying shades of blue and gray, the crests that pop up unpredictably. Now it’s like seeing an old friend. Its secrets are mine; we share them.

  I slip from dock to sand. My slipper sinks, and I snatch my foot back abruptly at the heat that bolts through me. Da and I roasted a hen once by heating the stones around it. It feels like the same just happened to my foot.

  I resist the urge to run forward, toss my slippers into the waves, and let the ocean break its fast on them. I’ve a wild craving for feeling the foam of the water lap against my toes.

  Aleta nudges me. The king’s approaching, Caden and Kat behind him like shadows.

  “Lady Breena. Princess Aleta.” He inclines his head. “Son, say hello to your betrothed.”

  Caden’s face is expressionless as he executes a stiff bow. He says nothing.

  I try to catch his eye, wanting to communicate some sort of assurance, but he avoids my gaze, moves his so it’s trained on the horizon. There’s something new in his stance, a pretense that hasn’t been there before. Despite the heat, a chill goes up my spine as I realize what it is.

  It’s the first time Caden reminds me of his father.

  “Come,” the king says, moving swiftly up the plank to board the ship, Kat at his heels. Aleta, Caden, and I follow at a more sedate pace. Our ladies will stay behind and await our return.

  “Are you all right?” I hiss in a whisper to Caden.

  “Fine,” he says dully.

  The navy vessel’s beams are dark inside the bowels of the ship where we board. Gray lumps of cargo are secured with thick ropes. Here, the sway of the ship as it rocks in a still port can be felt strongly. Aleta’s face takes on a nauseated expression as we move toward the steps to climb above.

  The deck is polished to a fine shine, and sailors stand at attention, snapping their heels together and bowing from the waist to their king. It seems like a small amount to crew such a large ship. I count only twenty hands on deck including the captain. He seems a capable man, giving only the cursory bow to the king before filling us in on the ship with short, clipped phrases. I nod a surprised greeting to Tregle, who’s standing alongside the seamen.

  “We’re going for a short jaunt, in and out of the harbor. Only need a few hands to lower the sails and go below with the oars. With such fine weather, we’ll return just before supper.”

  He bids us to come up to his quarterdeck and observe as the crew descends on the ropes that kept them tethered to Egria’s land. They cast off, tossing the thick braids into the water.

  The ship lurches as we crawl away. I stumble on the deck, bumping Aleta’s elbow. Her face has a distinct greenish tint to it now, and the glare she shoots me lacks its usual fire. I scramble away. I have no love for the dress I’m wearing, but I’ve no desire to wear Aleta’s last meal instead.

  “Steady,” the captain says. “You’ll get your sea legs under you. It will be only a moment before the lads find their rowing rhythm and we’ll be able to loose the sails.”

  True to his word, the ship’s motion soon shifts. We coast along the waves, and Aleta’s color abates a bit. She gropes behind her for some support, sagging against a railing gratefully.

  I can’t help but feel impatient. I’m right on top of the ocean, but it’s as distant as ever. I need a better vantage point. That’s when I spy the bow, leading the ship’s charge over the water.

  Pointing to it, ignoring the sharp eyes that rest on me, I look to the captain in question. “May I?”

  “Want to get another perspective, do you? By all means, my lady.”

  My lady. I shake my head as I walk away. I’ll truly never get used to that.

  A breeze caresses me as I lean against the railing that prevents someone from rolling away into the ocean’s depths. My wrists dangle over the edge. My cheeks still smart from the slap of heat I got before coming aboard earlier, but I’m considerably cooler. My corset’s practically dry. My hair blows into my eyes, but I smooth it away. I don’t want to miss a second of this: the churning of the ocean as the ship slices neatly through it, the shimmer of the water as the sun’s rays spark on its surface.

  And I don’t just see it. I feel it. It builds up in me, fills me, exhilarates me. I’ve never felt so strong before. The temptation to test my new ability is irresistible here. Slowly, I slide my palms against each other.

  A thin sheet of water launches from a wave like a javelin. Whoops. Not the graceful movement I’d intended, but I grin as it catches the sunlight and casts off a rainbow. It’s amazing that only yesterday I hadn’t known I had this in me.

  Someone sidles up beside me. “Don’t get comfortable.” Tregle barely moves his lips.

  The arc falls back into the ocean as I glue my palms firmly to my side. “I’m not,” I say, defensive.

  But I am and I shouldn’t be. The memory of a tidal wave crashing through the ballroom windows sweeps over me. How can I get comfortable knowing what a lack of control could lead to? Shame courses through me. I need to remember that I’m untrained. I could easily have capsized the boat with my actions.

  Tregle’s red-faced beneath his Adept robes and looking fixedly out at the ocean, tension lines his face.

  My consternation fades. I suspect my lack of training isn’t what he means. “Comfortable how?”

  His eyes are fathomless and haunted by a past I can’t see. “Steel yourself, Lady Breena. His Majesty does little without reason.”

  I know that. I’d thought the same myself when Aleta and I were summoned to the docks. But when the king hadn’t actually explained his motives, I’d assumed
that he was just showing off. Showing me what he has at his disposal, how powerful he is, to further intimidate me.

  Tregle seems to think otherwise.

  He leaves my side wordlessly as we slip farther out to sea. The harbor is a distant blend of indistinguishable buildings in the distance.

  A few deckhands mill about the ship. Aleta’s where I left her, leaning against a railing. Her hands are clasped in front of pursed lips. Probably praying to the Makers that she can hold it together and this trip doesn’t last any longer than strictly necessary. The king is with the captain, gazing out at the horizon. They’re talking, motioning out at the expanse of water. Caden is his father’s silent shadow, his hands linked behind his back, studying him. He’s looking at the king the way I look at Da: like he’s searching for his father in someone he doesn’t recognize.

  Abruptly, the king points decisively at something I can’t see. I crane my neck, but there’s only the sea.

  “Port!” the captain yells. “Hands to port!”

  I descend from the bow as the crew hurries to heed their captain’s call. The ship banks to the left.

  “What’s going on?” I ask the captain as I approach.

  “His Majesty is desirous of further exploring today,” he clips out.

  Exploring? The king surely already knows the port in his own capital, but it seems harmless enough. I shrug a dismissal, but Tregle’s warning reverberates through my thoughts. I know not to trust the king’s actions without questioning his motivations.

  “Why?” I press.

  The captain taps a foot impatiently. “Hell if I know—” He catches himself, sweeping his hat from his head in an apology. “I mean, I don’t rightly know, my lady. I’m sure His Majesty has his reasons.”

  I’m sure of the same thing. That’s what worries me.

  Without answers, I can’t shake the feeling of dread that squeezes in on me, but there’s no sense in useless anxiety. I retreat, making my way over to Aleta. The seasick princess has found a bench to sit on, and Caden joins us, collapsing beside me.

  “Having as much fun as I am?” I ask them.

  Aleta withers me with a look, indicating the pail set beside her. “What gave me away?”

  Peering in, I recoil, throwing an arm over my nose to cover the stench of vomit. “What’s wrong with you? Toss that overboard!”

  “It seems to be providing Father with some amusement to keep it onboard,” Caden says. It’s the most he’s said all day. “He’s forbidden it.” He winces as it sloshes against the side of the pail.

  The ship rocks, and Aleta throws herself toward the pail, gagging uncontrollably. Her hand trembles as she raises it to cover her mouth, leaning tiredly on the arm of the bench.

  “By the ether, Aleta.” I swear, jumping away from the ominously sliding bucket. I usher her to the ship’s railing. “Don’t give him any more to sicken you or the rest of us with. If it happens again, you just let it out right over the side, understand?”

  She nods weakly, glaring arrows. She’s ill-suited to taking orders. I take my seat on the bench beside Caden, keeping a wary eye on the bucket.

  My heart pounds suddenly, and I find that I can’t look him in the eye. We haven’t had the chance to talk since he made his escape last night. Silence makes itself comfortable on the bench in Aleta’s stead. Around us, sailors shout and run about, but Caden doesn’t say anything.

  “Have you thought any more on—on what must be done?” I struggle to form words that won’t give our treason away. The wind thrashes all about us here on the water, and there’s no telling if our words will be dragged back to Kat. Makers forbid the king have an inkling that he’s been manipulated in any way.

  “I have. And I’m giving it still more thought.”

  “And have you…come to any decisions?” I brave a glance at him, but I needn’t have feared. Caden won’t meet my eyes either.

  “Not as yet.”

  His spine is ramrod straight. Why won’t he look at me? I stare at him worriedly. “Caden, what are you going to do?”

  “I will do what is best for my people. Even if that means I have to give something up.”

  That sounds like he’s already made a decision. My stomach churns. He’s going to resign himself to his fate, ally himself alongside Aleta and her kingdom because it’s what his father wants and the king gets what he wants.

  Caden sighs, his facade breaking, and lets his head drop to his hands. He looks at me tiredly. Gray shadows hover below his matching gray eyes. Now that I can examine him more closely, it’s obvious that he hasn’t slept.

  His hands fall apart in his lap, resting on his knees. “I just haven’t worked out the details yet. It’s a lot to handle and I almost feel… Things are moving too fast.”

  My palm covers his hand, wanting to comfort, but clumsy at it. “It’s a lot to take in,” I agree.

  “No, Bree.” He leaps to his feet, looking about in alarm. The wind whips his hair about. “The ship is moving too fast.”

  He’s right. I fly from my seat. We have sped up. And the ship is going still faster. No wonder the wind has intensified. Sailors grab hold of anything within reach to stay on their feet. Aleta’s bent almost double over the rail, trying to hold herself in place but being lashed back in the face with her sickness as the wind tosses it back at her. My stomach twists with quick sympathy, but there’s nothing I can do for her.

  Kat’s at the helm, conducting the wild breeze into our sails with a peaceful expression, hands raised above her head. She alone stands unsupported, eyes closed as the air she controls thrashes at her dress, at her hair, pulling tendrils from its neat coif.

  The ship races on, leaving the harbor completely. Caden falls back onto the bench with an oomph, and I lose my footing, crashing backward into his hard chest. Absent hands steady me, lingering on my arms. A quick glance back at Caden confirms that he’s more concerned with what the ship is doing than what his hands are occupied with. I’m both glad and disappointed.

  Finally, the wind slows. The people onboard right themselves. Caden offers me a hand as he stands up again, and I take it. Together, we check on Aleta.

  She’s covered in her sick, but ridding herself of everything in her stomach seems to have quelled her nausea. Her old fierceness is back on her face. “If you ever mention this, I swear, I will make you regret it.”

  “Mention what?” I ask innocently. A smile slips past Aleta’s frown.

  The ship drifts near a small boat, a two-man rowing canoe. A moment later, we’re even with it, albeit at a distance as a wave buoys us about.

  “Ahoy!” one of the men calls cheerfully, waving his arm. They stood upon seeing the violet sails that mark us as a royal vessel. We’re far enough away that there’s no cause to worry that our ship will somehow plow into the tiny canoe.

  “Lady Breena!” The king calls my name, and dread floods me. Whatever he wants, it’s surely nothing I want any part of. He crooks a finger at me, and I rise to meet him. I flick a glance at Tregle, who appears at my side as if Kat blew him there. A rancid stench emanates from Aleta, so I chance a guess that she and Caden are at my back.

  A wave of gratitude washes over me. I may not have Da with me, but I’m not alone. Not by far.

  “I have a bit of a test for you,” the king says. He’s got the look of an overly satisfied tomcat.

  “Da always despaired of my test results during lessons, Your Majesty. I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.”

  “Oh, I think you’ll find a way to pass this one. Do you know what purpose Elementals serve in my realm?”

  “They—”

  He doesn’t wait for my answer. “They are in my service. They run my armies, construct my forts, tend to my gardens. I’ve not had a Thrower in years, and my navy has suffered for it. But now that I have you…” His smile spreads. “Lands I wasn’t able to conquer before will stand no chance once we make it upon their shores. And we will, with you as a part of my navy.”

 
Be a part of his navy? I will not. “I’m not—”

  “But first we need to see what you can do.”

  The words on my tongue sink back into me. What does the king want now? My eyes dart about for an escape route but find none. If I thought I could do it, I’d vault over the ship’s railing and run straight back over the water to Egrian land.

  I follow the king’s arm as he indicates the small boat beside us. “Sink the boat, Lady Breena.”

  He keeps his words quiet, but he may as well have shouted them for as hard as they slam into me.

  The men on the boat aren’t even looking at us anymore; they’ve lost interest, casting a net. Fishermen. And not well-to-do ones either if they can’t even afford a proper boat. Probably have wives, families, children. Sole bread-earners and tax-payers for their households. And the king wants me to kill them.

  “I am not my father, sire,” I say quietly, eyes locked on the small boat. It bobs uncertainly next to our ship.

  “That is abundantly clear, Lady Breena. Your father at least had the good sense to hide his treasonous leanings until such time as I could do little about it.”

  Not for the first time, I think with a confused sense of pride of how well Da can play a part.

  “Perhaps I was not clear,” the king continues. “You will do this. Or not only will that deceitful excuse for a father that you have vanish, but I will send Lady Katerine back to your village to burn it into the ground.”

  A garbled sound leaves my throat without my permission.

  “I will salt the fields so that the survivors—and they will be few in number—cannot even hope to rebuild.”

  “They’ve done nothing,” I whisper. I lift defiant eyes to the king’s, not bothering to hide the hatred that simmers there. “How can you condemn them all because of your lust for power?”

  He snaps his fingers, bypassing my question. “All of them, Lady Breena. Gone. Two lives for the trade of…perhaps a hundred? I am unsure, I confess, as to how many people your village houses.”

  I tremble with barely suppressed rage. How I’d love to seize a handful of the water from below us and thrust it down the king’s throat. It would be better than Kat’s trick of stealing air from lungs. I’d trap the air there with water, where it’s unable to escape. See how he likes it when the thing he cares most about—himself—is threatened.