by Vanessa Skye
I turn the lantern up and see Baird’s bed is already empty.
My hair is still securely braided and tied, so I quickly dress in the second set of clothes in my pack, put on my boots and sword, then open the door in search of Baird and Aiden.
I climb the stairs and open the trapdoor to a flood of morning sunlight warming my face and body.
“Good morning, Alys!” Aiden calls from his position behind the wheel. “I trust you slept well.”
“I did, thank you.” I stand near him as he expertly guides the ship with nothing but slight movements of his fingers, his hands strong on the large, wooden wheel carved with notches for his hands. The white, green, and yellow sails snap and pop with the wind, and we move quickly through the calm, crystalline water of the lake. “Where is Baird?”
Aiden grins and looks up.
I glance up and double take when I see a man peeking over the top of some sort of basket at the very end of the mast pole and staring out at the water ahead. “He’s up there?” He must be fifty feet up, at least. “In a basket?”
“He is! It’s called a crow’s nest, and it’s vital for keeping a lookout for bad weather, unfriendly ships, and land. He doesn’t seem to have the same aversion to heights as his daughter, and he volunteered for the first watch.”
“He’s crazy,” I mutter.
“Indeed.” He waves another man over to take the wheel. “Follow me, Alys, your instruction in the art of war starts now.”
“Now? Like before we’ve eaten or anything?”
“You missed breakfast and will have to wait for the noon meal to eat. Discipline, faeling, is something you have yet to learn, but I’m sure an empty stomach will drive the message home.”
I groan inwardly as I follow him.
“Every morning you will rise before dawn and eat with the men. Then, you will meet me here, at the stern, where we will practice the art of hand-to-hand combat. After the noon meal, we will work with short and long blades.” He grabs my shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes. “It will not be fun or simple, and I will not go easy on you because you are female. Some of my best warriors are women, and I expect you to become one of them. Begin.”
Without warning, he rushes, grabs me around the waist, lifts me high over his head, and flings me on the wooden deck.
Every ounce of air in my chest is forced out in a single, painful huff. I lay still, shocked, and stare up at the clear blue sky, as I try to force air into my paralyzed lungs. Is something broken? Surely, something is broken.
“Get up, faeling, before you discover just how unpleasant grappling on the ground can be,” Aiden says, standing over me with his arms crossed.
I groan and slowly get to my feet.
He rushes me again, with the same result.
All morning, it’s the same thing over and over. Aiden pounces and comes up with yet another way to chuck me to the ground like I’m nothing more than one of the sacks of grain in the cargo hold—sometimes directly onto my back, sometimes over his shoulder, and once, even across a thigh. Then, he starts with leg sweeps.
By the time we finally break for lunch, I am sweating, bruised, and my entire body aches as though it’s been squeezed in a relentless vise—which it has. Aiden’s arms are apparently made of iron.
“You are truly dreadful,” Aiden says and throws a handful of nuts in his mouth. “I would say you have never had any training…if your father hadn’t assured me otherwise.” He raises a dark eyebrow.
With no energy to speak, let alone lie, I simply glare at him and shove another piece of meat and cheese in my mouth instead.
“I hope you are better with blades.”
“Don’t count on it,” I mutter.
I finish my meal and wonder if I can remember how to manipulate the veil between worlds. I’ve got to be better off taking my chances with whoever is trying to kill me on Earth than staying here and having Aiden torture me to death with his bizarre attempt at training.
I remember the kind bus driver and his reassurance that I would one day look back on my time at high school with fondness. I never would have guessed that time would arrive so fast.
Of course, swords and daggers are even worse. Aiden’s brand of teaching ends with advice on the proper way to grip my heavy blades. After that, there’s nothing but endless thrusts and sweeps that come within fractions of an inch of vital organs.
I desperately throw my sword in front of his flashing weapon time and time again, but he continues driving me back, drawing blood every chance he gets, which is every freaking swing.
“Enough!” I scream, throwing my weapon on the deck with a clatter. “I’m bleeding.” None of the cuts are deep. But still, they sting.
“Yes,” Aiden says grimly. “And if I were your enemy, you’d be dead, faeling, not simply seeping a few drops of fluid.”
“I’m no good at this!”
“Yes, you are. You just need to find the skill within yourself and let it out. The natural talent is there. You are of war!”
“It’s not in there!”
“Yes, it is, child!” he yells.
“Stop calling me a child!”
“Then stop behaving like a whiney little faeling still clinging to her mother’s leg.”
Not caring if Aiden hurts me or draws blood again, I grab my sword. All I want is his blood.
“Argh!” I slash wildly as I try to recall the moves he’s repeated all afternoon. I even manage to drive him back a few steps before he outmaneuvers me.
“Better,” he says, grinning as we fight.
Chapter Ten
We quickly fall into a pattern during our days on the water. I rise with the men, stuff food in my face, and then head to the deck for what Aiden calls training. I say it’s more torment without mercy. More training follows lunch. At night, I fall into my bunk, not even bothering to undress before I drift into a heavy dreamless sleep.
I rarely see Baird, who is either perched in the crow’s nest, tying off sails, cleaning the deck, or one of the other million jobs that need doing on a large ship. When I do catch him, he has me practicing the limits of my magic, but whatever he’s doing works. I feel the flicker of my magic all the time, hovering in the background, waiting. And despite feeling abused by Aiden, I haven’t lost control once.
On day five, our ship sails into the open ocean for the first time, and I quickly learn the calm rivers and lakes have not even remotely prepared me for the pitching and heaving of never-ending waves. Between my stomach and the constant movement of the ocean, add two more obstacles in my fight to stay upright during training with Aiden.
Of course, the asshole thinks the whole ordeal is just hilarious.
“This is a perfect exercise for balance. If you can fight standing on an open sea, then you will have no problem on solid ground,” he says as he sweeps my legs with a fluid ankle move.
I see it coming and jump, but I stumble when my feet touch the rolling deck.
He swings his leg wide and low again and succeeds in knocking my feet out from under me.
I land hard but quickly spring off my hands and shoulders, ready for his next blow.
I am significantly more fit, and my body is already changing shape. Once soft areas have started hardening with muscle. I will never have the bulging biceps Aiden has, but I am no longer the weak girl who allowed herself to be bullied.
Part of me wishes I could see Matt again. I bet he wouldn’t find me so easily intimidated now. I’d kick his ass and then some.
The sky rumbles overhead, and the wind picks up. Faster than I ever thought possible, churning clouds darken into a threatening gray and a freezing rain begins to fall.
But even as the waves increase in height and violence, Aiden doesn’t stop. He punches then I block and return the blow. We work like a well-oiled machine, neither one of us landing any serious hits on the other as the punches, kicks, and blocks gain momentum. Nothing appears in slow motion to me anymore. Instead, I’ve reached a point where li
ttle escapes my attention and I no longer need my world slowed to keep up with every detail.
The rain soaks us to the skin, and lightning sizzles overhead. But our concentration is intense, and the increasing cold is nothing more than a mild annoyance.
Yawning black waves slowly rise around us, then break in a constant deafening roar and shower the ship in salt water. Some of the white foam splatters across the deck, making it even more slippery and adding yet another element to my training.
A loud cry from the crow’s nest pulls my focus and provides Aiden the opening he needs to land a solid face punch.
I fly across the deck and land on my ass near the low railing of the ship’s stern.
A shriek sticks in the back of my throat as my gaze lands on an enormous rogue wave, rumbling and straining to swallow us whole and dump millions of gallons of water right across our starboard side. The dark upsurge extends well over the dual masts as the sharp, cruel lip curls, reaching its horrifying breaking point.
Men scramble for the sails, dive for the deck, and latch onto anything they can to avoid being swept off into the depths of the churning ocean below.
The wave breaks high above, and I catch Aiden’s wide-eyed gaze as he dives toward me, his arm and fingers outstretched even as he disappears behind tons of foam.
I seize the railing and throw my other hand out desperately reaching for his, but as the water slams my body into the planks, my grip on the rope breaks, and I am swept over the side.
I barely fall before the sea rises to meet me and shoves me into its depths with the weight of what feels like the entire ocean above me. The salty brine is shockingly cold. I struggle to hold in what little air I have in my lungs as I’m tossed inside the rumbling wave, like a ragdoll in the wash.
The breaker subsides, and I’m left drifting in the dark deep so disoriented I can’t tell which way is up. After the violence of the last few minutes, the bottomless silence is stunningly peaceful, and part of me wants to remain in its quiet embrace.
My lungs burn with the need for oxygen, though, and I scramble for the surface.
A few useless, spinning strokes later, I realize the heavy sword, scabbard, and my boots, are pulling me farther into the deep expanse below.
Dizzy and desperate for air, I scratch and claw at the knot of my belt in a frantic attempt to get rid of the extra weight and spot shadow moving underneath me. Great. Wonderful. Screw the sword. Sharks are going rip me to pieces before I have a decent chance at drowning.
The shadow approaches, and I fight the water and panic as my body argues the merits of shutting down completely versus air and safety at the surface.
When I look down, the shadow is almost on top of me, and I wait to see teeth, cold eyes, and long gray body of…
A boy?
The shadow isn’t my impending death coming in the form of some nightmare oversized movie shark but a small fae boy.
Is he drowning, too? Did he get swept off the ship?
I swim toward him, reaching out in the hope I can get us both to the surface and air, but…
I stop.
He doesn’t appear to be distressed or drowning. In fact, he is beautiful. His body shimmers covered in nothing but silvery pink and blue scales, and his long white-blond hair surrounds his face like a living halo, enhancing startlingly white irises easily visible despite the gloomy black water around us. His feet are bare, and he has three slits on either side of his neck. He acts like a dolphin, ducking and weaving around me as though he wants to play.
He smiles and waves.
Dumbfounded, I wave back even as the edges of my vision go dark.
He mimics the motion of taking a deep breath.
I shake my head.
He does it again, and it registers—he’s breathing underwater just as easily as I do on land.
I shake my head emphatically. He might be able to breathe, but I sure can’t.
He frowns then swims over and grabs my hand, pulling me toward the surface with powerful kicks that belie his slight size.
As the blackness closes around the last thin shards of my consciousness, I know I just met a water fae.
***
My eyes snap open as I choke and heave stinging salt water all over the deck. I cough violently and take a few deep breaths before the next round of retching grips me.
“That’s it. Get it out, Alys. Force all the water from your lungs and take some deep breaths slowly!”
I hear Aiden’s screaming voice above me, but I shake my head. The water burns everything it touches as I continue hacking and gagging.
I finally collapse on the deck with my mind racing almost as fast as my heart. How did I get here? Where is the boy? What happened to him? Why wasn’t the boat obliterated by the huge wave?
Aiden grabs me and slams his fist between my shoulder blades in an effort to help me get rid of all the seawater.
Eventually, oxygen makes its way into my system and the choking heaves calm.
I clutch Aiden’s strong arms desperately as my mind clears. My entire body feels like it’s on fire, inside and out, then I start to shiver uncontrollably.
“Will she live?” asks a worried voice.
“Yes, she will be all right now,” Aiden replies. “I will have a healer check her lungs for possible infection.”
Another coughing fit hits just as Aiden picks me up.
“I will take her to my quarters,” he says. “I have a fire.”
“I will bring some dry clothing and more blankets,” says the voice I recognize as Baird’s.
Aiden holds me against his chest, and I close my eyes close, exhausted, as I cling to him. He feels so warm, and I am so, so cold.
The next thing I know, I wake, warm and dry, in Aiden’s bed with flames popping in a fireplace nearby. My wet clothes have been removed—hopefully by Baird and not Aiden—my hair is loose and drying on the pillow, and cozy blankets have been pulled up to my chin. I have never been so tired in my life. It feels like I will never be able to move again.
“Have some soup,” Aiden whispers. “Then you can sleep again.” He picks up a bowl filled with some kind of steaming clear broth and holds a spoonful out.
I swallow the warm liquid, wincing as it burns my tender throat, but force a few more spoonfuls down before shaking my head. “No more, I am going to be sick.” My voice crackles like dry leaves.
He nods and sets the soup on a table. “I will not push. I am just pleased to see you alive.”
I nod weakly. “Me, too.”
“I thought you were lost when I saw the wave take you.”
I remember the ocean and not knowing which way to swim as my lungs burned for air. “I was.” I cough and wince. It hurts to talk. It hurts to everything. But at least the relentless, bone-aching cold is gone. “There was a boy, a water fae, I think, who helped me. Where is he?”
“Back with his family, I suspect. We were lucky a colony of water fae were nearby when the wave struck. They can be reclusive and unfriendly. Their king, Lir, yokes them under his firm rule, but they saved several of my men from the clutches of the brine today. Still, some were lost to the deep.”
He looks so sad and I want to reach out to him, but my whole body aches, and I don’t move. “I’m sorry.”
“At least you were saved,” he whispers. “Little faeling.”
I scowl. “Stop calling me that. Before the wave, I was kicking your ass.”
He laughs. “I think the lack of air might have addled your brain, Alys. There was no ass kicking—as you call it.”
“Was too,” I mumble. Sleep’s closing in, and I don’t have the strength to fight it. “You’ll see…” I doze and dream of the wave that took me.
***
I jolt awake. “How did the ship survive? I thought we were all lost.”
Aiden stirs next to me. “Sleep, lovely Alys. The ship is designed to be impossible to capsize. I will bunk with Baird this evening. Be ready for more training in the morning.”
Apart from a residual black eye, thanks to Aiden’s last blow before the wave struck, and a scratchy throat, I start the next day feeling ready to go after my near drowning.
The men watch in awe as I put away more food than the rest of them combined and then look for more.
I slowly make my way up to the deck only to find almost all signs of the terrible storm gone. The ship seems mostly unaffected by the squall as fae mend small rips in the sails and remove knots from waterlogged ropes. The sun has dried everything to a dewy freshness, and the water sparkles as blue as the cerulean sky above us. If I hadn’t lived through the storm, I would question the entire violent day occurring in the face of such serene beauty.
“Alys!” Baird scrambles down from the crow’s nest and embraces me tight. “I am so happy to see you up and around. When I checked on you this morning, it seemed you might never wake. I am pleased to see you looking so well recovered. I feared the worst.”
I grumble and squirm but return his hug. “Aiden’s still making me train. You’d think nearly dying would get me a day off.”
He laughs as he watches me fasten my scabbard. “You could be walking hand-in-hand with Death himself, and he still would not let you rest.”
I snort.
“But he is making excellent progress with you, and your skills are quickly improving. By the time we reach Éire, no one will be able to guess you were not trained from childhood. Your natural talent is evident and abundant.”
“It doesn’t feel like it. Besides, if I can use fire, why do I have to learn all this swordplay shit?”
Baird scowls. “You know why. Aiden is the best at what he does. We are lucky to have come across him in his travels for King Nuadha.”
“Alys!” Aiden calls. “Stop talking and come and work.”
