by E. D. Walker
“I understand,” she murmured. And by now she’d taken far too long with her goodbyes. She stepped up to the wall of tiles. They folded back for her in a line like a door opening, and she hurried through before Guillaume or any of his men got the idea to charge through the opening.
Guillaume huffed as he saw her. “Finally. Come along then.” He grinned, baring his teeth in a smile that was not at all reassuring. “Beloved.” He held his hand out to her.
Revulsion swept through her, along with a cloying, shaking fear that had her rooted to the spot. Then she thought of Ned, and the injured knights, of Yonca, of her captured princess somewhere in this cursed city. And that was enough to drive her forward, to make her slide her palm against Guillaume’s, to hide her flinch as his fingers closed around hers. There was no one left to save her or to save the others.
She would have to do it herself.
***
Though Violette was determined to be strong, her nerves quailed as she joined the ranks of Lord Guillaume’s men and realized they were marching not toward Guillaume’s villa as she’d supposed but toward the harbor.
“I want to see Princess Aliénor freed with my own eyes. I want to speak to her.”
Lord Guillaume patted her hand where it was tucked into his arm. “And so you shall.” He looked over at her then did a quick double take. “I wish I’d thought to bring you a gown, but I must admit I didn’t expect to find you so improperly dressed. What have those Lyondi brutes subjected you to?”
She glanced down at herself and felt her cheeks heat. She was still in her borrowed boy clothes from the night before, and she’d not even noticed. Still, not wanting to let Lord Guillaume know he had discomposed her, she tilted her chin up and shot him a haughty glare. “King Thomas and his knights are among the best of men, and you would do well to imitate them. Among other things, they have never kidnapped unwilling young women.”
Guillaume chuckled. “A hit, my lady, a palpable hit.”
They marched the rest of the way to the harbor in silence. Guillaume’s ship was much like the one they had all first taken away from Jerdun toward the Southern colonies over a year ago now. It boasted a deep hull with a wide square sail and planks overlapping and fashioned with copper nails.
Guillaume sent her up the gangplank ahead of him, but when he tried to direct her below decks, she dug her heels in. “No. Bring Princess Aliénor and Lady Noémi up here.”
He smiled indulgently at her. “Of course, my dear.” And he dispatched a servant.
She fought every inclination she had to bite her lip or fidget with the hem of her jerkin. Lord Guillaume was treating her like a child. She would not give him the satisfaction of behaving like one.
A shocked cry made her whip around as Princess Aliénor came into view. Violette raced toward her. “Your Highness—”
Her words were cut off as Princess Aliénor clasped her close in a hug. “I was so worried for you. Are you all right? Your head?”
Violette couldn’t help but smile as the princess cupped her cheeks to examine her. Noémi also hovered anxiously by. “I’m all right. Truly. King Thomas and his men took good care of me.”
The princess huffed out a relieved breath. “Thank Kind Fate for that. I’m only sorry you’ve been taken now too.”
Violette couldn’t seem to catch her breath. “Not quite. I’ve traded myself for you, my lady.”
“What do you—”
Guillaume sidled up to them. “Yes. So, I apologize for cutting this short, but the princess must disembark now. Cousin.”
The princess glared at her cousin with a look that could’ve shriveled an oak tree. “Guillaume.”
“There lies your way, Fair Aliénor.” He gestured toward the gangplank.
Princess Aliénor stood her ground, though. “I’m not leaving Lady Violette with you.”
Violette swallowed a growl of annoyance. Just let me save you. “Go, Your Highness. This is my choice, and I’ve made it with my eyes open.” The princess tried to shake her head again, but Violette cut her off. “Please, my lady. Go.”
The princess exchanged a quick glance with Noémi. The two of them joined hands and started walking toward the gangplank. Violette watched them and tried to feel glad, proud, like the heroine in a fairy tale making the noble sacrifice.
Mostly, she felt nauseous.
Guillaume’s hand suddenly slapped over her face with a rag that covered her mouth. The smell of poppy syrup filled her senses.
“No.” She ripped her face away, holding her breath.
Guillaume gripped her hard against his chest, trying to wrestle his rag back into place. “Grab the princess!”
Guillaume’s men rushed Princess Aliénor and Noémi. They tussled, a tangle of limbs. Guillaume himself pawed at Violette’s face, wrestling to get his drugged rag back in place. Her blood fired with rage, and she clasped the end of the rag between two fingers and thought, Burn.
The damp rag erupted in flame. Guillaume let out a yelp and dropped it to the deck. He stamped the flames down with his feet and grabbed for her again. Violette backed away and flung her hands up to throw off the men charging at her. A few of them slammed into the railing around the deck. Two went head over heels off the side. The sound of splashing made her grin.
“Violette!” She whirled toward the sound of Noémi’s voice. Noémi and the princess were in the grip of several of Guillaume’s men.
Violette bit her lip. “I’m sorry, loves.” Down. Her magic leapt to her bidding, tame, loyal, but fierce. She pushed with her hands, flattening everyone to the deck, including Noémi and the princess. Violette would work on her fine control later.
She scurried through the sprawled bodies on the deck until she reached the princess and Noémi. She tapped them free. Up. Up. Noémi helped the princess, then the two of them descended on Violette, unleashing a general babble of, “Are you all right?”
“Get off the ship.” She turned her back on them to face Guillaume and his men as icy rage spiked in her blood. “You’ve broken faith with me, Lord Guillaume. I would’ve kept to our bargain if you had.”
He grunted where his face was pressed against the boards of the ship. His nostrils flared with fury. “I needed her to control you, witch. How long would your promise have held you without her as a hostage?”
Violette just shook her head then whirled at the sound of cries behind her. The princess and Noémi were scurrying back onto the ship, men chasing after them. More of Guillaume’s goons no doubt. The dock was swarming with men. How many were Guillaume’s? Were any of them the king’s? Can we possibly get away with just my powers?
Yes…It was a small certain glow inside her, like looking into a mirror and seeing herself. Calm. Sure. Powerful.
Yes, Violette. You can do this.
You are strong.
You are brave.
Trust yourself.
Her fingers tingled, and she rubbed them together, watching the blue glow start. A bubbly, airy delight built in her gut. Like dancing. Like flying. A broken snatch of song tripped joyfully through her head. Bum bum badada deedee deedee deedee…
Blue spellfire burst from her fingers and broke against the wood of the ship like a wave spilling onto shore. She waved her arm, laughing, and a cascade of blue spellfire tickled out of her hands to cover the masts, the sails.
Guillaume and his men stirred on the deck. He pushed to his elbows. “What are you doing?”
She bit her lip, holding onto her concentration like holding a willful horse to rein. This much, magic. Only this much. Here, not there.
Bum bum badada deedee deedee deedee…
As Guillaume tried to push to his feet, the ship rocked beneath them all. He froze and glowered at her. “What are you doing?”
She felt the last thread of the spell catch, hold, and she felt the form of the ship in her mind’s eye as easily as if she held it in the hollow of her hand. A ship is just a bigger bucket, right? She laughed and gently lifted her palm towar
d the sky. Up…
The bullyboys who’d been running up the gangplank lost their balance as the ship rose and the gangplank tumbled away, and they fell into the sea with a splash. Everyone on Guillaume’s ship cried out. Sailors scrambled for handholds. The princess and Noémi stared wide-eyed all around, holding onto each other and the side of the ship. When Violette caught her eye, the princess grinned. And nodded. I trust you, her look seemed to say.
The ship rocked a little, tipping side to side, but still it rose high, higher. Violette glanced over the side, and her gut wobbled a little with uncertainty to see the ship was floating almost fifty feet in the air now, the hull dripping sea water into the ocean below. Men on the docks cried out and pointed. Some ran away, hopefully not to fetch more soldiers.
Looking down, she caught sight of one familiar face in the crowd on the docks, pale, wide-eyed, but smiling fit to crack his face in two. When he saw her watching he waved hard, then winced and held his side.
Violette beamed back at him then looked around. How to do this? “Lord Guillaume.” She tried to make her voice as haughty as she could, cold and clipped.
Guillaume was holding white-knuckled to one of the ropes and glared at her. “What?”
“I demand your surrender and the surrender of your men. I demand safe passage for Princess Aliénor’s household and King Thomas and all of his people out of the city.”
Guillaume snorted. “Oh yes? How long do you think you can hold this ship aloft? More of my men will come. Then we’ll see.”
She narrowed her eyes, thinking fast. Then, restraining an evil chuckle, she widened her eyes at him in mock innocence. “Oh, dear. You may be right. I’m not sure how long I can hold this ship aloft. Or upright…” Gritting her back teeth, she tipped the ship sideways.
Men cried out, and everyone lurched. Some who’d been in the middle of rising fell back down. Others tumbled against the sides of the ship. Guillaume banged hard into the side, his face going pale as he peered at the water far, far below. He seemed to shake himself and glared at her. “You’re bluffing.”
Violette braced her feet. “I advise you to hold on, Lord Guillaume.” She whirled her hand around, tying off part of the spell around her ankles. Flicking her fingers, she cast a similar though less elaborate binding spell on Noémi and the princess. Stay. They cried out in surprise to find themselves suddenly stuck to the ropes they’d been holding. After a moment of hesitation, Violette threw a binding loop around Guillaume too. Oh yes, I want you right here, Lord Guillaume.
She drew in a deep breath and slowly, slowly began to turn the ship upside down. Some men fell to splash in the water below. But they were hardy sailors and immediately swam toward shore. The rest of the men hung grimly to the ropes or the sails, closing their eyes as the world turned upside down. For her part, Violette only noticed the change as lose tendrils of hair slid off her neck to dangle in front of her face.
Everyone gawked at her, and Guillaume looked like he might be ill. Almost as one, everyone on the ship looked up above their heads, where the water crashed below them against the docks.
Violette clasped her hands tight. Hold. “All right, Lord Guillaume. I’ve already proven I’m powerful enough to throw your ship around like a toy boat in a water basin. Shall I tell you what I’ll do if you don’t concede?”
His eyes were hard with flouted rage. “What?”
She met him glare for glare. “I’ll drown this boat and every man on it. I’ll push this vessel down and down until we hit the bottom, and I’ll hold it there until you stop thrashing. Do you think I can’t do it? Now?” She hoped he didn’t think to question if she would do it.
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “I surrender,” he whispered.
Some petty part of her wanted to make him say it again, louder, but she decided enough was enough. “Very good.” Sweat pricked her temples, and a headache was spreading along her forehead. Enough. She turned her hands as if turning a wheel, and the boat flipped upright again with a whoosh that left her dizzy and blinking. Everyone else groaned and held on harder to their ropes.
Slowly, gently, she lowered her hand toward the deck, and the boat drifted down until it had splashed back into the ocean like a leaf hitting a pond. Violette spun her spells back in toward herself, like gathering in her thread after spinning. Her headache eased a little as she felt the warmth of her power absorb into her skin. Noémi and the princess let out ecstatic cries and came over to hug her. She grinned but pushed them away. “Don’t distract me, please.”
The edge of the ship bumped slightly at the dock, and several sailors jumped off at once.
“Tie us off!” she ordered.
Two men hurried to do her bidding. One man took off running away as soon as his task was done, but the other hopped back aboard, staring at her with interest but no fear. He had light-brown skin, acorn-brown like hers, and dark hair braided back. “Where is your captain?” she asked him.
“I’m here.” Another man lurched forward, also dark skinned like her, but with a shining bald head and a gold ring through one ear. He grinned at her and bowed. “How may I serve you, Sorceress?”
Her blood thrilled a little at the title. “Is your ship for hire? Now, by us?”
He tilted his head and snorted, looking back and forth between her and Guillaume. “It’s for hire to whoever has funds to supply us. Do you have such funds?”
“I, um…”
“We do!” King Thomas appeared at the head of the gangplank, trailing knights behind him.
Violette abandoned negotiations with the captain to rush toward the gangplank. Ned and Llewellyn brought up the rear of the column, supporting each other on the rickety plank to the ship.
Ned threw his hands into the air when he saw her, a wry smile twisting his lips. “We were…coming to rescue you.”
She covered her mouth to hide a laugh. “Oh. Um. Thank you?”
Master Llewellyn wheezed with laughter, and she found herself unable to stop herself from joining him. She took his weight from Ned and helped the magician limp to a shady spot on the deck. Master Llewellyn stared at her with a proud smile crimping his lips. “Well done, Mistress Violette. Well done.”
Mistress. The title of a sorceress. Her title. She grinned and knit her fingers with Ned’s when he flopped onto the deck beside her. Yonca came up a few minutes later and patted their heads as if they were much younger than they were. It felt nice.
They sat there all together and watched the king and his princess negotiate with the captain, but finally they must have come to agreeable terms, for the captain hollered for his sailors to make ready to sail.
First, though, there was a horde of prisoners to unload. Violette gasped as dozens of people poured out from below decks to stumble onto the docks. Yonca scanned the crowd, her eyes narrowed, and at last she let out a slow, “Ah.”
“What?” Ned asked.
“The magic users. All the ones who’ve gone missing.” She turned to tug on one of Violette’s curls. “You found them, child.”
Violette frowned as the last of the prisoners left the ship and disappeared into the crowd. “He was trying to build an army then? Like the Tiochene raiders and their sorcerers?”
“An army of enslaved sorcerers.” Ned shook his head. “There aren’t that many magic users up North. An army of even these few dozen could’ve done remarkable damage.”
Yonca clucked her tongue and eyed the dock as the sailors around them began to cast off.
Violette hardly dared look at the other woman. “Are you…will you…” She pinched her eyes closed and blindly reached out for Yonca’s hand. “I have so much more to learn from you. Will you come with us? Please?”
Yonca gripped her fingers tight, and when Violette opened her eyes, her teacher’s face was solemn. “Yes, child. I will go with you and teach you. You children ventured South to explore the world. Perhaps it’s time I see a bit of the world too.”
Ned laughed and careened sideways to hu
g Yonca. She flung an arm around his shoulders. Violette held the other woman’s hand and kissed her palm in happiness, in gratitude. “Thank you.”
Before they could cast off, they had to deal with Guillaume. As little as anyone liked the idea, the king and princess decided to take Lord Guillaume along as a captive at least as far as the first port they came to. If they let him return to Aratum, there was the potential for him to gather enough forces to pursue them. Without Guillaume, no one else in the city was likely to chase after King Thomas and the princess.
That decided, at last the ship set sail. Toward Jerdun. Toward home. Violette turned her face into Ned’s collar, smiling against his skin as she settled in for a well-deserved nap.
***
Once all the bustle of departure was concluded, Noémi came to fetch Violette. Yonca took charge of chivvying Ned off to rest in the same cabin where they planned to set up an injured Llewellyn.
Noémi crinkled her nose at Violette. “You need a bath and a proper set of clothes, Vio.”
Violette plucked at the dirty jerkin she’d been wearing for days and days now. She felt oddly reluctant to take the garment off. Some mix of missing Ned and appreciating the practicality of having legs unhampered by skirts. She squeezed Ned’s hand as he and Llewellyn were being led away. “May we talk later?” she asked.
“I’d like that.” He pressed her fingers one last time then allowed himself to be led away.
As she thought about that long-overdue talk with Ned, Violette found new enthusiasm for having her hair done and the grit and grime scrubbed off her skin. It seemed the princess and Noémi sensed as much, for the two of them devoted themselves entirely to her toilette without washing or dressing themselves first. She blinked tears back at such devotion.
As the princess worked on combing her hair and braiding it back, Aliénor cleared her throat and said, “Violette, would you…would you be willing to do me a very great favor when we return to Jerdun?”
***
About an hour later, as the ship sailed toward the orange flame of the sinking sun, Violette met Ned on the deck. He too had been washed and changed. Llewellyn’s influence, perhaps. Or maybe Ned’s own idea.
