Blackthorne

by Stina Leicht

  “Tell anyone about this? And get myself busted down to cadet after all the work I’ve done?” Cornelius whispered. He moved the file drawer closer, removed the cards, and then concealed them in a pocket.

  “Thank you again,” Caius said.

  Cornelius said, “You’re welcome.”

  Caius checked the duke’s nonrestricted records, and after finding nothing significant, he headed for home, his mind packed with information that made no sense. If Severus is part of a scientific experiment, why send him to live among kainen? What do malorum have to do with any of this?

  We lived in the same dorm room for ten years. He handles silver. Daylight does not harm him—

  Hybrids. Trait inheritance.

  Why create Arion, a malorum who passes for human?

  The new theory is that malorum are evolving. Changing.

  When he arrived at his new apartments, he exchanged a wave with the Warden watching from his station across the street. He was becoming used to seeing the director’s spies. Since they made no attempts to hide, Caius assumed they were only being used as a reminder. Now that Arion was dead, Caius wondered if the guards would increase or simply vanish.

  Severus is in the Hospital now. There’s nothing I can do to help him.

  Am I sure I want to?

  See to your back.

  Perhaps he was trying to warn me away. Severus was a good friend. A brother. In the years they had trained together, they had saved one another’s lives. If Severus wasn’t human, he deserved a chance to explain. Is it actually important to me that he’s human?

  Severus acted human. He was honorable. Truthful. Honest. Loyal. Intelligent. All the things malorum weren’t, and all the things some humans couldn’t aspire to.

  Malorum are evolving. Changing.

  Locking the door to his apartments behind him, Caius went to bed and then spent an hour studying the crown molding before finally falling into an uneasy asleep.

  DYLAN

  ONE

  CLÁR OIBRE RÚNDA, TWO-MASTED SLOOP-OF-WAR, CLAN KASK, WATERBORNE NATIONS

  NINETY MILES OFF THE GHOST CRESCENT

  AEGRERIAN OCEAN

  3 JUNE, 1785

  Waking alone before his watch, Dylan knelt and then settled his hipbones onto his ankles for his morning prayers. He, Suvi, and Dar had been rotating the four-hour watches since leaving Acrasia. Having served in the Eledorean Royal Navy long before becoming queen, Suvi was eager to take a turn at watch. Unfortunately, the three of them were the only experienced sailors on board. The others took turns as well, but Dylan didn’t trust them at the helm. Dar had taken the middle watch, starting at midnight, which meant that Dylan was to serve the morning watch starting at four, and Suvi would take over at eight when he rang eight bells.

  The cabin Dylan shared with Dar was cast in shadows from the lone lantern. The fishy scent of burning whale oil joined the other homey ship smells. To his right, two of the little brown lizards peered down at him with their bright blue eyes from over the edge of the hammock. There were now seven of them living in the cabin. For the most part, they stayed near Dar whenever possible—unless he was outside their quarters. Then they tended to linger on or around Dar’s sea chest. They didn’t seem to care for the messenger cages. The tiny lizards made no sound, and for the most part, they kept to themselves, but they still took some getting used to. An intelligence lurked behind their azure gaze. They got into everything, much to Dylan’s dismay, but Dar said they were merely curious and intended no harm.

  Praying isn’t easy with seven sets of beady eyes looking on, Dylan thought. They didn’t seem to understand the need for privacy. It didn’t seem to bother Dar as much as it did him. Dylan didn’t enjoy having an audience to their lovemaking. Something would have to be done, and soon.

  Two more lizards peeked over the hammock’s edge. There was now a row of blue eyes staring at him.

  Dylan shifted his weight, closed his eyes, and tried to ignore them. He focused on the feel of Dar’s wool rug beneath him. It made a thick and comfortable padding, even if it was a little scratchy. Outside, gentle swells rocked the ship. The wind seemed to be steady and blowing in a useful direction without need of his magical assistance. His stomach gave out a rumble. Breakfast wouldn’t be ready for another five hours, if past history was anything to go by. Nels and Viktor both tended to sleep late, and it was their turn to take over in the galley. The tea water wouldn’t be heating, not unless Suvi was up—a distinct possibility these days.

  Dylan breathed deeply and concentrated on imagining his breath traveling up and down his spine. He did this twenty times, up and down, and then he felt ready to begin.

  The first law of magic is thus: Energy does not vanish. It transforms. All are born of water. All shall return to—

  “This is a good ship. She’s sound. Well built,” Aegrir said. “She’s small, but she is also fast and nimble on the water. I like her name, too. Clár Oibre Rúnda. Clever. A good Ocealandic name.”

  He’d known it was Her before he’d opened his eyes. Her voice had a resonance that was unmistakable. “Great One?”

  Aegrir was wearing the same guise as he’d seen in the Hold—a heavyset, middle-aged woman. Her long, dark brown spirit knots were streaked with grey. As before, the prayer tokens tucked into her braids were shaped like tiny ships. He tried not to notice that they numbered fewer than before. Her loose silk shirt was now blue and black with flecks of yellow, and her sailor’s breeches were navy. As before, her feet were bare.

  The little lizards hopped down from their perch and scurried to her outstretched hand. She smiled. “I see our friends are happy and thriving. You two have taken good care of them.”

  “Thank you,” Dylan said.

  “We don’t have much time,” she said. “You’re getting close to Ghost Crescent.”

  He nodded and waited.

  “Drop anchor in Dragonsjaw Cove,” she said. As she spoke, she began to pet one of the lizards. To Dylan’s surprise, it let out a soft hum. “From there, follow the waterfall to its source. Your predecessor was heading in that direction when I lost contact with her. I suspect the rift is somewhere along the river’s length.

  “One more thing,” she said, and placed a small token carved from jet in the shape of a sea horse on the rug next to him. “Wear this for me.”

  He gazed down upon the little carving and swallowed. The sea horse had several meanings among the Waterborne. The main ones were good luck, protection, and steadfastness. However, the oldest stories told how the sea horse protected the souls of those who died at sea as they passed through the abyss. “Thank you, Great One. I am honored by your gift.”

  “And this is for your Darius,” she said, setting a second sea horse on the rug. “I can’t very well send you two into danger without a blessing.” She gave him a genuinely warm smile.

  “Thank you,” Dylan said. “Thank you very much.”

  “Be careful, little lordling,” she said. She began to grow less substantial. “It would grieve me to lose you so soon.” And then she vanished.

  Above, someone rang eight bells. The lizards scurried off to new hiding places.

  Time for morning watch, he thought, picking up both amulets. He would give Dar his at the watch change. Other than a bright red bead that he’d given to Dar when they’d committed to one another, Dar hadn’t earned any tokens. This, a gift from the goddess Aegrir, would be Dar’s first. Dylan felt the corners of his mouth turn up. It was a great honor indeed.

  TWO

  Dylan dropped anchor in Dragonsjaw Cove five hours later and hoped the name was merely an allusion to its shape on the nautical charts and not something more literal. It appeared to be safe. So far. Gazing out past the bowsprit, he decided Ghost Crescent was among the most beautiful islands he’d ever seen. The sky was cerulean, and the ocean around it practically glowed bright turquoise—that is, until it hit the shallows, where the white sand washed out aquamarine to a pale blue. The island itself was hilly, even
mountainous, and painted in shades of green, indicating thriving plant life. The winds blowing across the hills were scented with the perfume of fresh jasmine and honeysuckle vine. A majestic waterfall plunged from the heights of a nearby cliff onto the rocks below. The ocean was clear enough to reveal every creature, rock, and plant on the ocean floor.

  That was the disturbing part.

  Without the clear water, he’d have missed the wreckage off Clár’s port side. Inspecting the remains with his glass, he judged that it’d been a much smaller sloop. He attempted to make out details that might reveal the ship’s name or clan, and failed. Aegrir had sent someone else, all right. And he had a hunch that that someone’s ship was now at the bottom of the Dragonsjaw.

  Dylan turned his glass to the white beach. It wasn’t long before he spied the remains of a rowboat littering the otherwise spotless sand. It wasn’t clear what sort of creature had destroyed it, but based on the bite marks, whatever it was had to have been huge. In spite of this, there was no sign of any tracks.

  It must have been some time ago. He searched the beach for any other sign of life and found none. It didn’t make him feel any better.

  Did the creature attack while the lone Waterborne Leaudancer was in the boat? Or did it seek out vengeance later?

  If the first Leaudancer couldn’t even make land without being attacked, what was the point in sending replacements? Has Aegrir sent us on a suicide quest? He lowered the glass and stared into the water. Jet the dog trotted across the boards, her nails clicking. She leaned her black body against his left leg. Then she sniffed the air, pointed her nose at the island, and let out a low, rumbling growl. He reached down and gave her a soothing pat. She looked up and softly whined.

  We’re here, Lady Aegrir, Dylan prayed.

  Having left the helm, Dar stepped to his right side and slipped an arm around him. Dar’s spirit knots had grown longer since the start of the voyage, Dylan noted with some relief. They now brushed his lover’s earlobes. Dar had been taking his religious training more seriously of late. He still didn’t rank much higher than an acolyte on his own, but he was studying and progressing. The two of them had taken the time during the morning watch to sew the sea horse tokens into one another’s hair.

  Maybe it will be enough, Dylan thought. Maybe that, combined with his training and his ties to me and mine, will be strong enough to protect him. He couldn’t have told Aegrir how grateful he was for the addition of Dar’s gift, but he supposed she already knew.

  “This place makes my skin creep,” Dar said, moving away and pulling his hair into a stubby ponytail high up on the back of his head. He tied it with a leather cord.

  Dylan thought the style accentuated his lover’s cheekbones nicely.

  He took Dar’s hand and squeezed it gently in an attempt to be reassuring. “Why is that?” He didn’t like Ghost Crescent either. The island’s beauty made its intrinsic wrongness even more difficult to reconcile.

  “See how clear the water is?” Dar asked, and pointed at the shoals.

  Dylan nodded.

  “There’s nothing living in that water, not within three hundred feet of shore,” Dar said. “What does it mean?”

  It means we’ve a chance of reaching the shore without sinking, at least. Dylan hesitated, poised to ask another question.

  “I’m not staying behind,” Dar said. “Don’t you dare even ask.”

  “No one else other than Suvi can handle Clár alone,” Dylan said without much conviction. “And Suvi has to go.”

  “No. That’s my final answer. There. Argument ended,” Dar said. “Shall we get the jolly boat in the water?”

  “After breakfast. I suppose it can’t be put off,” Dylan said, glancing at the flawless sky. “We’ve only ten hours of daylight in which to find the rift and get back. I’ll wake the others.”

  Dar frowned, raised an eyebrow, and then whispered, “So She didn’t give you a more exact location? Just ‘somewhere along the river’?”

  Dylan shook his head.

  “The gods never do make these things easy, do they?” Dar asked, treading dangerously close to blasphemy.

  “I suspect She gave me all the information She had,” Dylan said. “It’s not as if She can risk exploring the matter Herself.” Dar had been the one person to whom he’d told everything. Suvi only needed to know certain aspects of the matter.

  Dar said, “All right, who stays with the ship? We’ll have to leave someone behind. I don’t trust this place. And neither should you.”

  “We’ll leave Katrin in charge,” Dylan said.

  “She’ll hate that,” Dar said.

  Dylan shrugged. “She is the least qualified to go.”

  At fifteen, she had yet to manifest her magical powers.

  “You want to leave her here alone?” Dar asked.

  “Unless you can convince one of the korvas to stay,” Dylan said. “And I rather doubt that’s going to happen. Not that it will do much good if we don’t return. None of them know the first thing about sailing.”

  Dar paused. “I’ll prepare a few messages. That way, Katrin can send for help if need be.”

  Katrin had shown herself to be a quick study, and she had been picking up the odd sailor’s skill during the voyage, but they both knew she couldn’t handle Clár—not alone, and certainly not during rough weather. While it was summer, there was no guarantee that the seas would remain calm.

  “We’ll break the bad news at breakfast,” Dylan said. He lowered his voice. “Have you thought about how you’ll transport our little friends?”

  “Viktor is loaning me a ryggsack,” Dar whispered. “They’ll be safe there until it’s time to release them.”

  “I suppose we should get below, then.”

  Nels and Viktor were already in the galley, preparing breakfast. Taking a deep breath as he passed, Dylan caught the scent of a mouthwatering combination of trout, fried potatoes, onions, bacon, biscuits, and coffee. They’d laid in a store of coffee beans in addition to the tea while they were in Novus Salernum. Nels had demanded it.

  Suvi was already awake and mocking her brother for his limited cooking skills. Nels was explaining how he was accustomed to a campfire and not a stove when Dylan continued down the hallway to roust the others. He was sitting at the table, eating his breakfast with the entire crew, less than a quarter of an hour later. He waited until everyone was finished to break the news to Katrin.

  “Why me?” Katrin asked, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Someone must stay behind with Jet,” Dylan said, feeding the dog a bite of bacon under the table. Jet’s soft, sloppy tongue explored his fingers for every possible morsel. It tickled.

  “You want me to stay here with the dog?” Katrin asked. “I’m not a baby.”

  Stuck, Dylan knew he couldn’t voice his reasons without making Katrin feel worse. She’d been keeping to herself, and they’d all been allowing her the space she needed—such as there was on a little ship. She’d been sensitive lately, not that he blamed her. No one did. But he had a feeling that didn’t matter.

  “This is because of—of Blackthorne, isn’t it?” Katrin asked, frowning at her empty plate. “It’s my fault. He’s probably dead. And it’s my fault.”

  Sitting next to her, Ilta laid a hand on Katrin’s arm. “You aren’t to blame. Blackthorne knew—we all knew the risks.”

  Katrin said, “But if I hadn’t tried to—to—save that dead orphan—”

  “I didn’t know malorum could do something like that,” Nels said. “And that trick must have worked before, or the thing wouldn’t have continued to employ it. Any one of us would’ve done the same.”

  Katrin stared. “But you never lived in Novus Salernum. I did. If I hadn’t forgotten—”

  “Then the two of you would’ve been stopped at the gate,” Viktor Reini said. “And you wouldn’t have been able to get away. And we would be short two people on this venture instead of one.”

  “Something else to consider
… Blackthorne is also the only one of us who can possibly survive in Acrasia,” Dylan said. “None of us knows the Brotherhood like him. He’ll probably be waiting for us at the Hold. Great abyss, he’s probably there now, wondering what’s taking us so long to get back.”

  “Ultimately, someone must remain to guard the ship,” Suvi said. “What’s to keep a malorum from coming aboard while we’re away? The swords in Clár’s hold must make the return trip, Katrin. Do you understand how important that is?”

  “Oh.” Katrin blinked back what Dylan was certain were tears.

  Suvi continued. “Trust me, what we’re asking won’t be easy. You’ll be left here alone. We may not be able to get back before dark. If that happens, you’ll be alone overnight.”

  Katrin’s expression changed from disappointment to fearful resolve.

  “Don’t worry,” Dar said. “You’ll have Jet with you. She’s Waterborne. She senses magic, and she knows what a soulbane smells like. She’ll protect you and keep watch when you can’t.” He spoke to Jet. “Won’t you, girl?”

  Jet barked as if in agreement. Dar being Dar, Dylan was fairly certain it was.

  Dar slid off the bench and called Jet over to a corner. While everyone watched, he spent a few moments with his forehead resting against Jet’s black head. Then he gave her a hug and a few scritches behind her short, floppy ears just where she liked it most. “You’re a very good, very brave dog, Jet. I love you.”

  Jet licked him in the face, and Dar laughed. He wiped the slobber from his cheek and got to his feet. “Katrin, come with me. I need to show you how to take care of the birds while I’m away. And how to send one for help if need be. Will that make you feel better?”

  “That would be great,” Katrin said.

  Dar headed for their cabin with Katrin following behind. “The gull will know to come to me. The frigatebird is trained to find the nearest Waterborne ship. And the last, the albatross, will fly to the Hold and Councilor Slate. Got that?”

  “Which one is which?” Katrin asked.