Pillars of Six

by St Clare, Kelly

  “Ye mean the Earth Mother?” Ebba asked.

  “She is one of the three powers, yes.”

  Barrels rejoined them from the wheel, Pillage trotting in his wake. Peg-leg whispered to her father, no doubt bringing him up to speed.

  “You couldn’t have told us that afore?” Stubby asked, an edge entering his voice.

  Verity shrugged. “A soothsayer is not an entity of his or her own. To be a soothsayer is to be a vessel for powers greater than yourself. They showed me, but a soothsayer cannot discuss what they have seen, what might be, or has been. That is the oath we bind ourselves to.”

  “And why can ye speak o’ it now?” Plank asked from where he perched against the bulwark.

  Verity looked around the circle of her six fathers, Jagger, and then back to Ebba. “I am no longer a soothsayer and am therefore freed from my oath. Now, I am nothing more than a healer with basic magic.”

  Jagger crouched beside Ebba, staring intently at Verity. “Malice wasn’t the only ship to anchor down the shore. There were at least ten other ships. These pillars. Are they controllin’ other pirates, too, now?”

  Verity blinked furiously, and Ebba’s heart squeezed for the woman who was clearly shouldering much of the blame, despite her otherwise calm demeanor.

  “Yes, when the pillars regained their shadow forms, the souls of the crew succumbed to the taint. The pillars will not leave the strongest source of their power—the ship—until they regain their bodies, but through the crew, their taint can now spread unchecked. As their taint spreads, their power will continue to swell. In time, no facet of the realm will be free of their surveillance or taint. And not the seas beyond.”

  “Ye didn’t think to warn us?” Jagger shot back.

  “She did,” Ebba said, glaring at him. “She told me.”

  Verity lifted her chin and regarded him with hard eyes. “Even I did not know it would happen so fast. I can feel the change in their power. Their power is. . . .” She shivered, and Locks moved to her side. “Unlike anything I’ve ever felt,” she said. “I have already seen the future that awaits us if they should regain their bodies. Their minds will overpower everyone they come across. Exosia, Kentro, Maltu. The waters will darken to black. Pleo, Febribus, Neos, Zol. The creatures within will be powerless against them. Selkies, sprites, sirens, kraken. They will never stop feeding. Their taint will blanket the realm and suffocate all good. This time they will not fail.” She trailed off and then blinked, shifting her eyes to Jagger, who had grown very still.

  “Neos?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Everything. The taint will claim all living souls. It will finish what it started within you and within Ebba’s fathers. I know you feel the call of the dark now, just as I. The pillars haunt us, dog our steps, calling us back to their side so that their taint may finish what they started.”

  Jagger’s chest rose and fell. His face was so stricken and lost that Ebba reached forward and touched her fingers to his hand, which rested on the deck.

  He broke away from Verity’s gaze to look at where she touched him. Aware of her fathers’ scrutiny, Ebba drew back, and Jagger made no move to stop her. Or throw her off.

  He scanned her fathers’ faces and then sighed. “Do you know if my family on Neos still lives?”

  “I do not,” Verity answered him. “I have been shown snatches of the past, present, and future by the powers of the oblivion that connect with my path. And those snatches are not easily pieced together. I have felt the oppressiveness, the pain, the absence of light, the death of good.”

  Shite. There wasn’t any mention of hammocks and palm trees in that.

  “We need to find this root o’ magic. It’s past time we did,” Plank said. From the beginning he’d been telling them they had to get to the bottom of all this.

  Locks said, aghast, “If we’d killed Cannon, none o’ this would be happenin’. If we’d started takin’ this more serious-like, maybe Ebba wouldn’t’ve been hurt.”

  They should have listened to Plank months ago, aye. They’d decided to fight too late. Now winning seemed impossible. But— “And if King Montcroix had killed Cannon’s son, none o’ this might be happenin’ either,” Ebba countered. “One person can’t be shoulderin’ the blame for what’s goin’ on.”

  Barrels hummed. “So how do we locate this root then?”

  Ebba propped herself up. Sally crawled out from behind her hair and perched on her collarbone. Jagger’s black-rimmed eyes rested on the sprite, and then shifted to Ebba’s pushed-up chest for a heartbeat too long before he blinked twice and moved his gaze away. Laughter bubbled up within her. Jagger was one of the males susceptible to dresses! That was bloody priceless. She bit back her grin.

  “I was thinkin’ we go back to the Earth Mother and make her tell us more. She’ll have all o’ her powers by now; she’ll be able to really help,” she said.

  “You must assemble the weapon to fight the pillars,” Verity said.

  Stubby stared around their crouched circle. “Wait, is the root o’ magic the weapon?”

  “What?” Verity appeared confused.

  Ebba held up the dynami. “Findin’ the root o’ magic has sumpin’ to do with these.” It had to. She straightened. “We found another one, too, a third; the king’s sword. Afore he died, he was very ins’stent that Caspian get it from the treasury.”

  Verity was peering around the group, her eyes gradually widening.

  “The king really be dead?” Jagger said. “I’d assumed so—with pirates swarmin’ everywhere and Caspian fleein’ back to this ship with ye. But the king really be dead?”

  They all stared at the flaxen-haired pirate. He sounded excited about the king’s death, like he so badly hoped the king was dead he feared believing it.

  “Aye, lad. Killed by Pockmark,” Stubby said. “What’s it to ye?”

  Jagger’s glinting gaze shifted to the bulwark and stared at the sword left there by Caspian. His eyes were dark as he ambled closer to the weapon. “This was his sword?”

  “Aye, when I picked up the sword while holdin’ the dynami, it blasted me through the air, just like on Pleo when I touched two o’ the cylinders. And Caspian’s father kept referrin’ to it as truth. Veritas.”

  Barrels stared at the sword. “It doesn’t have the same pearly sheen as the other two cylinders. And I can’t see the name etched anywhere on it, unlike the others.” He paused. “Do you think there are more of these objects to find?” He spun toward Verity.

  “I know of six,” Verity said. “I—”

  “One for each pillar?” Peg-leg cut her off.

  Verity tilted her head, the action lending her a bird-like appearance. “Symmetry should never be discounted. But in this case—”

  Ebba stilled. Davy Jones knew she’d learned not to discount symmetry—or parallels, as she’d coined the concept. “These six magic objects will help us find the root o’ magic, won’t they?”

  The ex-soothsayer ignored her, still staring around the group. “None of you have any idea, do you?”

  Her fathers exchanged looks.

  Verity inhaled sharply. “The six parts make the root of magic. The six parts form the weapon that has the power to defeat the pillars.”

  What? Ebba said loudly, “I asked the Earth Mother outright if the purgium be the weapon, and she said nay.”

  “Well it’s not. Not really. Immortals are literal beings,” the woman answered. “The purgium is not the root of magic; it is just the purgium without the other five parts.”

  Locks exploded. “Ye’re flamin’ kiddin’ me?” He seethed, hands clenched in fists. “I’ll be havin’ words with her if I ever see that bloody rabbit-killer again.”

  “Are you finished?” Verity asked him. Locks nodded meekly.

  Ebba bit her lip to hold in her snigger.

  Barrels was grim-faced. “Okay, so we have three of the six parts already. That’s good news. We’re halfway there. Verity can help us locate the other parts.”


  She shook her head. “I was shown the purgium’s location because giving you the information was related to the path I had to take. Other than some grasp on magical history, I have no knowledge of where the other parts are hidden.”

  They’d found the dynami with the help of the magic fruit and Grubby’s selkie nature, and the second cylinder with Verity’s help. They’d only chanced upon the third. The remaining parts of the root of magic could be anywhere.

  “This be truth, ye say?” Jagger turned to Ebba.

  Was he still hooked on that? They’d moved on. She shrugged. “Aye.” She’d jostled Sally, who fluttered off to where Pillage rested by Barrels’ feet. The cat seemed unperturbed by the possible end of the realm. The sprite nestled into the cat’s side and promptly started snoring.

  “Mayhaps it can be helpin’ us to the next part.” Jagger bent down.

  Right. She hadn’t thought about that.

  Jaw clenched, Jagger touched the sword.

  As soon as he made contact, it was as though his hand couldn’t let go of the sword. His head was flung back, and he extended in a backward arch before dropping to his knees. His breath sounded as though it was being physically pulled from his body.

  Ebba burst to her feet, dynami in hand, one step behind her fathers.

  By the time she reached Jagger, he was on his hands and knees. The sword rested flat underneath his palm, and his eyes were open, pupils darting side to side as though reading a book.

  “Lad, are ye okay?”

  That was nothing compared to being hurtled through the air by exploding parts. “What do ye see, Jagger?” she urged him.

  The pirate’s face was in shadow, but he was breathing hard. His knuckles were clenched, showing strained white beneath the skin.

  The bilge door opened, and Jagger lifted his head.

  Ebba glanced back and saw Caspian had reappeared, the purgium in his belt. Stubby plucked her out of the way as Jagger roared and ran at the prince, veritas in hand.

  “I knew it,” Jagger roared.

  What had the sword shown him?

  He swung the sword at the prince, and Caspian narrowly avoided it, dodging and stumbling into a barrel. His shocked expression morphed into fury.

  “You led Malice to the castle,” Caspian seethed. He waited until the pirate swung again and then rushed in, tackling Jagger to the deck. He rolled off, but threw himself back on top of Jagger, gripping the neck of the pirate’s tunic with his hand.

  “They’re goin’ to kill each other,” Ebba cried, covering her mouth. “Stop them,” she said to Stubby.

  His mouth was grim. “Sumpin’ else be goin’ on here, lass.”

  Ebba stepped forward but Stubby stopped her.

  “Stop fightin’. That wasn’t Jagger’s doin’,” she shouted at them. Why were they doing this? They’d barely survived the night.

  Jagger backhanded the prince, who went sprawling. He dragged the sword up to hold it in both hands. “I didn’t lead them anywhere, Prince Caspian, but I would have if I’d known they’d kill yer scum father.”

  Fury contorted Caspian’s face, and he shook as he faced the pirate. “Give me back my father’s sword,” he said through gritted teeth. “Give it back, or I swear that I will not rest until you are dead.”

  Jagger’s eyes were murderous. “This sword be truth.”

  “Yes, and only someone who can be trusted to use it wisely may hold the sword.”

  “Like yer father, Prince Caspian?” Jagger asked. His eyes gained a steel glint, and Ebba shook free of Stubby’s hold, not trusting the change. Hadn’t Verity just said she still felt the call of darkness, and that Jagger did too? His soul may not be victim to the taint, but he wasn’t free of it. Out of anyone here, he’d had the most exposure to the pillars’ darkness.

  Jagger circled the prince like a shark, not speaking again until he was in front of Caspian. “When I was a toddler, I lived on Exosia with my parents. My father was the Colonel o’ yer father’s army.”

  Ebba gasped. The man in the painting had been Jagger’s father?

  “You lie,” Caspian said, watching the pirate closely.

  “I hold truth in my hands,” Jagger mocked. He scanned the weapon from hilt to gleaming point. “This be the sword that killed them, wielded by yer father’s hands. When I touched the sword just now, I saw my parents’ faces; I heard their screams as he drove this sword through their bodies. Veritas showed me how it felt to slice through their flesh.” His voice trembled, and Jagger lowered his gaze from the sharp tip to stare at Caspian, whose eyes were now wide.

  Something Jagger had said had pierced a hole in Caspian’s anger.

  Jagger continued flatly, “Yer father was on a tour o’ the island more than sixteen years ago now. The tribe o’ Neos were watchin’ the ship pass by. They watched yer father kill mine, and then my mother. A servant placed me, a toddler o’ only three years old, into a rowboat and pushed me out to sea. All I had o’ my parents was my father’s army medals that the servant pinned to my tunic. I had no notion what’d happened to my mother or to my father. I was a white mainlander, but the Neos tribe took me in, and when I was old enough to know the truth, I vowed to take away sumpin’ the king loved.” Jagger circled the prince again. “Early on, that was his life. But later on that sumpin’ changed to his heir. I took particular pains to learn about ye, yer appearance, yer interests, and yer whereabouts.”

  “I didn’t know,” Caspian said at last, shoulders dropping. “He never breathed a word of it. Though after several goblets of wine, he would sometimes mention a great friend he’d once had.”

  Ebba had always noted the pirate’s hatred toward Caspian. She’d first seen it in his eyes as they passed Malice in Selkie’s Cove. And again when he’d so studiously ignored the prince’s presence on their journey to Pleo. His comments about watching the taint claim the prince and that fate being far worse than any he’d planned. She doubted any of the crew had guessed at just how deep his loathing went.

  He was going to kill Caspian. She could see it in the harsh lines of his face.

  “Great friend?” Jagger asked, his voice deathly calm. “That’s how yer father treated his great friends?”

  “If it helps,” Caspian uttered softly. “I believe whatever happened on that ship haunted him until his dying day.”

  Her eyes shifted to the prince. She noted the dejected hang of his shoulders; his empty sleeve and haunted eyes. And she remembered his words in the castle about the pillars being right. She recalled the bitter set to his mouth. The lackluster hue to his amber eyes. He’d lost his father today.

  Creeping awareness itched the space between her shoulder blades, and Ebba couldn’t shake the horrible, horrible thought that Caspian was going to let Jagger do his worst.

  Jagger charged forward with a yell, and Ebba sprinted across the deck to launch herself between them.

  The pirate’s eyes widened as he saw her in the middle. He tried to wrench the tip of the sword up. Her fathers were shouting, but Ebba made no move to evade the blade, flinging out her arms to place a palm on Caspian’s chest, and one in the opposite direction to stop Jagger’s charge.

  The tip of the sword glanced past her side without cutting her, but Jagger couldn’t stop his momentum.

  Her palm pressed into his chest, her other still on the prince.

  . . . And the world lit up.

  The white light she’d seen exploding from Sally burst from their trio. Ebba stared at her glowing feet and then out to the far-flung perimeter of the orb surrounding them. Her very skin was alight; her hair was lifting around her like some invisible breeze was at work.

  She lifted her eyes to Jagger’s, and he returned her baffled look. The white glow had given the high-boned features of his face an ethereal appearance. His flaxen hair looked silver, like his eyes, which were blazing, no trace of the black ring in sight. Ebba blinked and glanced behind at Caspian. He was turning his hand over, studying his skin. But she gasped as he glance
d up. His eyes were molten gold, his russet hair a deep bronze.

  Her mouth moved wordlessly as she stared past him to the east.

  A beam of the glowing light was shooting from where their trio touched off into the distance. A thin beam, no bigger than the flat side of a coin, but it shot straight. The point the light touched far in the distance seemed fixed, the angle of the light beam changing with Felicity’s forward movement.

  For a second, she watched Pillage leaping up and trying to swat the beam of light. Then, shaking her shock away, Ebba dropped her hands, and the glow disappeared as though sucked into the oblivion.

  She wavered, and Jagger dropped the sword, reaching for her elbow to steady her.

  “What was that?” Barrels whispered.

  Her mouth was dry. Her head was throbbing something fierce from the night’s injuries and the revelations since. Her legs folded, and Caspian reached for her, helping Jagger to lower her to sit on the deck.

  Ebba’s gaze fell on the discarded sword. “Am I crazy for thinkin’ what I be thinkin’?” she muttered.

  Caspian crouched by her side. “You’re crazy for running into the middle of a sword fight, but not for having that thought.”

  “That wasn’t a sword fight,” she said. “Ye didn’t have a sword. He was going to run ye through.”

  Jagger lowered down, watching her. “He’s right; that was foolish.” He peered over at Caspian. “This ain’t over. I have a debt to repay.”

  “Aye, it is.” Ebba pounded a fist on the deck. “Don’t ye see that Caspian doesn’t want to live? He wanted ye to run him through.”

  Judging by Jagger’s raised brows, he hadn’t.

  “That right?” he asked the prince.

  Caspian didn’t answer, his amber eyes on Ebba’s face. His throat worked, but he didn’t answer.

  “Then it be a punishment for ye to live,” Jagger said simply. “But if yer stance on death be changin’, I’ll be here to deliver yer end. Yer father killed my parents, and I will uphold my vow.”