by Giles Carwyn
“Quadruple my money.”
“Yes, yes. I swear.” Vinghelt nodded, exhausted.
“And all you’d have to do is slip past the Silver Islanders.”
“Yes…No! I mean no, no! I’d go far to the south, go around them.”
“In three months.”
“I would…Well, with good winds. Yes. Yes, three months.”
“That’s it,” Faugher said. “I’ve heard enough. Drown this piece of shit.”
“No!”
With a happy whoop, Grouner plunged Vinghelt’s head under the surf. Again, Vinghelt struggled, but he had no strength. The sea stung his split lips, and his seared lungs screamed in agony.
Gods, no! Oh Fessa! I beg you! I’ll stop drinking. I’ll give up my lands. I’ll pay my debts.
The blackness of the water surged around him, waiting until he opened his mouth.
Dear Fessa! Please, I’ll change. Just let me live!
He continued to struggle, until one of the thugs reached between Vinghelt’s legs and squeezed. Vinghelt screamed and water flooded into his mouth and lungs. Fessa! He coughed, but only bubbles came out.
A strange lethargy took his limbs. He stared unblinking into the deep blackness of the sea—
And saw a light.
It floated forward, growing and growing.
A wave of calm swept through him, and the pain faded away. His lungs were still heavy with water, he still felt the crushing grip on his testicles, but there was no pain. No pain at all.
The arms let him go. The incoming surf pushed him toward the shore, then pulled him out again. Vinghelt found the strength to stumble to his knees. He vomited seawater upon the sand. Convulsions wracked his body, but there was on pain, no fear.
He turned to look at his attackers. They retreated up the beach, looks of terror and revulsion on their faces as they stared at the sea.
Vinghelt turned and gaped.
The goddess herself rose from the waves. Her pale skin glowed in the darkness, outshining the moon. Shimmering waves of green hair poured from her head like a fountain, cascading down her breasts, thighs, and flawless curves, flowing into the sea.
“By the deep!” Faugher said with disgust.
“He’s hideous,” Grouner said. His lip curled as he drew his knife.
Fessa smiled at Vinghelt as she strode from the water, and he felt her power rush through him. He knelt before her, but he couldn’t bow his head, couldn’t take his eyes off her magnificence.
“I don’t know who you are, Whitey, or what you want,” Faugher said, also drawing his knife. “But if you don’t swim back out to sea, I’ll gut you like a pig.”
“There is no need for that,” Fessa said, her voice haunting, like music played underwater. Vinghelt sobbed at the beauty.
“Stay back, you bloated—”
The goddess narrowed her eyes and frowned. Faugner stumbled back, his face contorted in pain.
“You seem to have an infected hangnail,” Fessa said, her voice swirling around them. “That can be very painful.”
Faugher fell to his knees in the shallow surf, clutching at his left boot.
Grouner looked down at his father with wide eyes, then turned a murderous gaze on Fessa. “I’ll kill you, you fat fuck!” he snarled as he charged.
Calmly, the goddess turned to Tanik, and whispered, “Kill him.”
The thick-necked thug lunged forward, tackling Faugher’s son just before he reached the goddess. The two brutes tumbled into the surf, sending up a spray of water.
Fessa walked slowly to Vinghelt, and the men’s struggles and cries faded into the background. Extending her slender, beautiful hand, she helped him to his feet. Her touch vibrated through his entire body.
“Are you ready to start your new life?” she asked in her unearthly voice.
“What?” He could gaze at her forever.
“The man you were is dead,” she said. “A new man has been reborn in his place.”
“Why? Why did you save me?”
“You called to me.”
“But…” he stammered. “I’m nothing. Nobody.”
“Not for long, my prince. Not for long.”
Grouner and Tanik thrashed by them, grappling at each other’s throats, smashing their heads into each others’ faces. They fell into the surf and fought to hold each other underwater. With a powerful surge, Tanik rolled Grouner underneath him and jammed his thumbs into his partner’s eyes. Grouner fought back, plunging his knife into Tanik’s side over and over again.
Faugher writhed on the beach. He had removed his boot and clutched frantically at his foot. “Make it stop!” he shouted. “For pity’s sake, make it stop!”
“It might feel better if you cut it off,” Fessa whispered to him.
“Yes,” Faugher slobbered as he crawled to his discarded knife. “Yes.” He snatched up the blade and drove it into his ankle.
Fessa turned back to Vinghelt and gave him a loving smile. “Are you afraid?” she asked him. “No. No, I’m not.”
“Good. Put your faith in me, and you’ll never be frightened again.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to learn, to grow. I want you to become the man you were meant to be. My children need a king, a man with the vision and strength to lead them.”
“A king on the Sea of Princes? How?”
Fessa turned away from him and walked back into the sea. Her green hair spread across the water behind her, flowing over Grouner and Tanik where they floated facedown in the surf.
“There is a Kherish merchant with pale skin and unusual eyes. The man is a mage, a student of the lost arts. He will teach you everything you need to know.”
Fessa looked over her shoulder, smiled. A wave broke against her chest, and Vinghelt felt a loss as she left him standing on the beach.
Vinghelt stepped forward, reaching to her. “But…How will I find him?”
Fessa was nearly underwater, but her voice carried to him as though it were inside his head. “He will find you. Everything you need will find you.”
Her glowing body disappeared beneath the waves. Vinghelt’s fear at her departure only lasted a moment, then he was filled with a glorious purpose. His heart swelled with more strength than he’d ever known.
Vinghelt strode out of the water and stopped next to Faugher, who lay whimpering in the sand. He clutched a bloody knife and a severed foot to his shuddering chest. Blood poured from his stump, making a black swath on the moonlit sand.
“It still hurts,” Faugher whined. “It still hurts.”
“I can pay you now,” Vinghelt said in a quiet voice. It was hard to believe that moments ago, he had been terrified of this pathetic dustborn gold peddler. But that was a different life. He had been a different man.
“It still hurts,” Faugher whined. “Please make it stop…”
“If you like.”
Vinghelt brought his foot up and smashed it onto Faugher’s face. It felt so good that he did it again, and again, and again.
He felt bones crack under his bare feet, but there was no pain. No pain at all.
Faugher finally stopped writhing, and Vinghelt continued up the beach. For the first time in years, he didn’t feel the need for a drink.
CHAPTER 1
Lawdon cursed her slowness. She cursed the damned optimism that had her chasing a crazy Zelani through a thunderstorm while her crew had been captured.
She and Mikal hunched on the garden-topped roof of a warehouse in Cliff Town peering through the waning storm. Summer’s Heart was empty. No sign of anyone. Even in a storm, someone should have been standing watch, but there was no movement, no life aboard.
“You see?” Mikal asked.
“Yes.”
If Mikal hadn’t been waiting for her at the bottom of the Foreplay Steps, she would have walked right into the Ohndariens’ trap.
How had everything gone so wrong? Baelandra was dead. Shara was dead. Lawdon was running from a murder.
All her hopes in Ohndarien had dried up. There would be no help for the Summer Cities. She felt storm-tossed and betrayed, as if someone had cracked off her rudder.
Now she must return to her lord and report complete failure. They would have to find another way around Lord Vinghelt’s strange powers before the assembly of the Floating Palace.
“I found her that way,” Mikal continued. “I returned to the ship straightaway, but somehow the soldiers arrived before me.”
Lawdon hissed. She hated magic, hated it. What hope did they have against Zelani?
“Hours later, twenty armed Ohndarien soldiers crept onto the ship, followed by twenty who crept off,” he said, wiping his brow, blinking away rain.
“Changing of the guard,” she said in a monotone.
He nodded, water dripping from his chin. Lawdon squinted up at the sky. It was impossible to tell how long the storm would last, but she was now willing to risk just about anything to get the hell out of this city.
“We have to—” Lawdon started, but Mikal jerked. She spun around and saw a figure in a blue robe standing behind them.
Hissing through her teeth, Lawdon drew her dagger, ripping her skirt in her desperation to free the blade. She ran forward and whipped her dagger up, just underneath his chin, “Don’t try it. I’ll gut you, I swear I will,” Lawdon hissed, sounding braver than she felt.
The man studied Lawdon briefly, without fear. “Did you really think you could hide from the Zelani?” he asked.
She just about cut his throat at that, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. He hadn’t so much as raised a hand against her.
“My apologies if I startled you. I am Caleb-lani, a good friend of Shara-lani’s, and I have no intention of harming you.”
Mikal hadn’t moved from the edge of the roof, ten feet away. “Just cut his throat,” he said without any real conviction.
“I would prefer that you didn’t,” Caleb said, pushing Lawdon’s blade away from his neck.
Mikal took a hesitant step forward. “Don’t listen to him. We’ll take him in a rush, just like the other one.”
Lawdon hissed, wanting to stab Mikal for being such an idiot.
“So it was you who killed Suvian,” Caleb said.
“Yes,” Lawdon admitted.
“Why?”
Her eyes narrowed, and she felt a flicker of hope. Why would he question her if he could just enchant them?
“He wanted to play a game I wasn’t interested in. He got pushy. I pushed back.”
Caleb paused for a moment, but his expression did not change. “If that is what happened, I need to be sure you are telling the truth. Will you allow me to look into your memories?”
“Don’t let him get his hooks into you,” Mikal said, moving a step closer, but still keeping his distance.
“Shut up, Mikal!” Lawdon shouted back at him.
Caleb smiled, still completely calm. “I would like to believe you. But I need to be sure.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I’ll walk away.”
“And within five minutes those twenty men on my ship will ‘magically’ appear to arrest me.”
“Almost certainly,” Caleb said.
“And if those soldiers catch us, then you will look into my memories whether I wish it or not.”
Caleb paused again. He swallowed. “I hope that would not be the case—”
She scoffed. “You hope—”
“I would not walk that path unless it was absolutely necessary,” he finished.
Lawdon breathed for a moment. The rain slackened even more, and she felt exposed on the flat rooftop. She wanted to stab the Zelani and be done with it, but why would he bother talking to them if he meant to arrest them?
She hesitated, hating the idea of this man messing with her head, but she didn’t really have a choice. She couldn’t hide from the Zelani, and it was too late to run. She would have to prove her innocence somehow.
“You may look,” she said, then held up a hand as he started forward. “But I want two things in return.”
“Yes?”
“First I want to know what happened to my crew.”
“They were taken to the Citadel and questioned by a Zelani. None of them knew where you were.”
“What will happen to them?” Lawdon asked.
“They have committed no crime. They will be set free as soon as the council learns the truth about Suvian’s death.”
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Caleb paused. “Perhaps. What is your second wish?”
“Mikal puts a dagger at your back before you muck with my head. You do something we don’t like, you die. I’m not taking another chance with you people.” She cleared her throat. “That’s the condition.”
“As you wish.”
Reluctantly, Mikal moved behind the Zelani and put a dagger against the back of his neck.
“Are you satisfied?” Caleb asked.
Lawdon’s heart thundered in her chest. She nodded tersely.
Caleb moved closer. “May I touch your face?” he asked softly. “It will make it easier for both of us.”
Again she nodded. She forced herself to stand firm. “What do I do?”
“Relax.” He laid a hand on her cheek. His touch was light, warm. “I will not hurt you. I will take nothing that you do not allow.”
“Just hurry,” she said.
“Recall what happened. Everything, from the beginning.”
That was not hard. She hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind. She thought back to the first moment Suvian walked up to her in the Hall of Windows.
Caleb’s touch was nothing like the other Zelani’s. Suvian had forced his way into her mind, dominated her. All she felt of Caleb was light, feathery whispers moving through her thoughts. The images rushed through her: walking with Suvian into the trees, his hands on her body, his death. Once again, the memories filled her with revulsion, helplessness and, afterward, rage.
She gasped as Caleb withdrew his hand. The images vanished.
Caleb’s brow was deeply furrowed. “It is as I feared,” he murmured. “Suvian was not of our order. He was cast from the school in disgrace. This never should have happened.” He stopped, looked up at her. “I am so sorry for what you were forced to endure. Shara-lani is adamant about this perversion. It is not allowed.”
“Well someone isn’t following your rules, then,” Lawdon said, rubbing her arms. The echoes of Suvian’s touch lingered on her skin, on her mind.
“May I ask you one more question?”
She nodded.
“Did you see Shara-lani? Before she left?”
Lawdon turned away. She drew a long breath, remembering that last moment, screaming at Shara to come down off the wall. The lightning strike. Staring at the empty, swirling rain.
“I’m sorry, Caleb,” she said hoarsely. “She didn’t leave. She’s dead. She threw herself from the top of the wall.”
Caleb searched her eyes for a moment, then started chuckling.
Lawdon glared at him. Her hand twitched on her dagger.
He held up his hands, stepping to the side, away from Mikal’s blade. “I apologize.”
“You find her death funny?”
“Only her nature. Even in defeat, she does what others only dream of.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry if she frightened you, Lawdon. Shara is lost right now. I knew she had left the city, but I didn’t realize she had left in such a fashion.”
“What are you saying?” Lawdon said. “No one could survive that fall. I don’t care how—”
“Shara-lani could survive that fall. She has survived worse.”
“No.” Lawdon shook her head, but her heart surged with hope.
“Shara is the master of several paths of ani,” Caleb explained. “Such a leap is not beyond her.”
“How can you be sure?” she asked, but she felt rejuvenated, and there was suddenly hope fo
r both of her failed missions. Perhaps she could still make a difference in their struggle for the Summer Seas.
“I have watched her from a distance for a long time now.” He paused. “It is a duty I have taken upon myself. Believe me. If she had perished, I would know.” He closed his eyes and raised his chin, as if smelling the wind. When he turned back, he looked straight into Lawdon’s eyes.
“Time is short. Great events are moving,” Caleb said quietly. “I have seen your memories, and I believe I can trust you. If you will make a bargain with me, perhaps we can both get what we want.”
“What do you mean?” Lawdon sheathed her dagger and waved Mikal away. Slowly, he stepped back from Caleb and put up his weapon.
“I would go after Shara,” Caleb said. “But there are too many things happening right now. We barely escaped the latest attack from the corrupted; luckily, it was relatively minor. But with Shara gone, we are too vulnerable for me to leave. And now—” He drew a breath, and for the first time Lawdon could see the lines of concern at the corners of his eyes. “The Emperor has stolen the Heartstone.”
Lawdon drew a swift breath.
“Yes.” Caleb nodded. “The Ohohhim ships fled the city during the attack. Arefaine Morgeon took over the minds of our men guarding the Sunset Gate. The Heartstone was taken beyond the walls just as we were defeating the corrupted. In one night, we have lost our two strongest protectors.”
“Why would the Emperor do that?” Lawdon asked.
Caleb shook his head. “I do not know. He has always been Ohndarien’s staunchest ally.”
“It will mean war,” Mikal said.
“Perhaps,” Caleb said. “But there is nothing I can do about the Heartstone right now. My duties have shifted. My heart longs to follow Shara, but I am now the senior Zelani in Ohndarien, and that duty comes first. Suvian’s reemergence troubles me, and must be investigated. The theft of the Heartstone cannot be kept a secret for long, and the city will be in an uproar when they discover the truth.”
