Spellweaver

by Tamara Grantham

  Underway at last, I finally felt as if I were getting somewhere. I had the orb, and I felt as if I were headed in the right direction. Although the exact location of where to put it was a mystery, at least we were getting closer.

  Kull pointed to the jagged green peaks rising over the horizon.

  “Those cliffs are the last we’ll see of land for quite some time. Once we reach the open ocean, we’ll have no safe harbor.”

  I peered at the cliffs. The vertical shadowy mountains appeared as tall silhouettes against the bright sky. My insides squirmed with apprehension as I watched the cliffs pass by. Would I ever see land again? Would we make it to the outer isles? I tried to ignore the statistics of all the voyages that had ended in disaster before they made it to the isles, yet it was hard to focus on anything else.

  Kull took my hand and squeezed it gently. “We’ve made the right decision,” he said. “The gods will protect us.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  Waves lapped against the ship’s hull, echoing the call of sea birds soaring above us, perfectly balanced on their wings of white-and-gray feathers. Several vessels, laden with loads of sea-faerie pearls or casks of fae-brine, passed us by. The sunshine reflected off the water and warmed my face. I leaned my head against Kull’s shoulder. Despite my nagging worries, I did my best to enjoy the moment.

  Faythander’s ocean was as diverse as its mainland. While some creatures resembled those found on Earth, most had evolved with their own unique magical characteristics. Even the sea plants were unique. Some species, like mermaids and sea unicorns, fascinated me—perhaps because I’d never seen them in person. I’d never spent much time at sea, and I felt as if I’d entered a new world.

  The sun began its descent as the wind picked up, blustering with a gale force as we left the harbor’s shelter. In the distance, I spied the black fins of some unknown sea creature moving with grace through the water. The ship sped away from the creature, and soon it disappeared from sight.

  “Shall we go inside?” Kull asked. “I hear they’re serving fae-urchin stew in the mess hall.”

  I hesitated.

  “Aren’t you coming?” he asked.

  “Should we enter the mess hall together? Won’t your father be there?”

  “What does it matter?”

  “We’re supposed to be keeping our distance, aren’t we?”

  “Of course. But I see nothing wrong in eating a meal together. My father cannot dictate every aspect of my life.”

  “You don’t think he’ll get angry?”

  “Do not worry so much. My father has bigger problems to attend to. It’s doubtful he will notice us.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine,” I conceded, “but you know we have to be careful. I’m not really in the mood for getting thrown off the boat.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  As we entered the mess hall, the first person I spotted was Kull’s father. Of course. He sat with the Wults of the Northland tribe, and his face soured as he watched us cross the room. Kull wrapped his arm around my shoulder and gave me a roguish grin. I politely moved his arm away, but King Herrick’s glare remained.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered to Kull.

  He only smiled.

  The thought occurred to me that Kull was purposely challenging his father’s authority and I was caught in the middle of it. I searched for a table as far away from the king as I could find, refusing to be a part of their power struggle.

  The mess hall was a modest space with a low wood-beamed ceiling. Kull barely fit as we weaved our way through the maze of tables and chairs. Oil lamps were spaced unevenly through the room, making some areas dimmer than others, which worked to our advantage.

  I chose a spot near a back wall, away from the lamps and away from the king. I spotted a few familiar faces in the room. My father sat with a group of elves, as did Euralysia. I found Ket sitting amongst the Wults. King Herrick sat beside the princess, seemingly absorbed in their conversation. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed she’d earned the respect of the king. I wondered how she’d done it, although I suspected it had more to do with her ancestry than her character.

  Heidel appeared at the doorway and stalked into the room. Her heavy boots echoed on the wooden-planked floor. She wore a fur-lined cloak over a metal breastplate, though why she needed to wear such clothing on this ship was a mystery. Did she intend to go to battle?

  She caught sight of Kull and made her way toward us.

  “Brother.” She swept her cloak aside as she sat between us. “You have recovered, I hope?”

  “Yes, for the most part. Although,” he clutched his hand to his stomach, “it was a raw bout. I feared the intestinal cramping was sure to be my end. I’ve endured many agonizing blowouts, but that was one I never care to run into again. I do not wish that fecal infirmity on my worst enemies.” He paused. “Well—perhaps one or two, but no more than that.”

  I covered my face with my hands. Heaven help me, I would die if he didn’t stop.

  “Then I am glad you are recovered,” Heidel said solemnly.

  Thankfully, servers appeared from the galley, distracting Kull from imagining up more poorly mishandled puns.

  The attendants passed around trays filled with steaming bowls of fae-urchin stew. Kull snatched a few dishes from the servers and distributed them around our table. I took small bites of the broth. It was supposed to have the flavor of Lobster bisque. Instead, the odd, fishy flavor was overpowering, making me long for my box of Lucky Charms back home.

  As Kull and Heidel had a heated discussion over who’d suffered worse maladies, I kept my eye on King Herrick. I shouldn’t have been so bothered by him. After all, he was an honest king with a decent reputation. In truth, he was more inclined to peaceful negations than war, which was a trait not found in his predecessors. The king laughed as Ket, with a languid smile, said something to him. I wished I could hear their conversation.

  “Olive,” Kull said.

  I focused on him.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked.

  “Sorry,” I answered. “I was distracted.”

  Heidel sighed. “You see? She hasn’t the attention span necessary for the training. This is a waste of time.”

  “What’s a waste of time?” I asked.

  “Because of the failing magic, my father would like all practitioners to learn defense with actual weapons.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” I said, “but I’m not completely incapacitated. I still have half of my magic.”

  “Is that enough?” Heidel asked.

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “We need to know more about the outer islands and what types of creatures inhabit them. There are other species living there besides the dragons that will be a danger to us.”

  “Agreed,” Kull said. “But in the meantime, I would like to teach you defense with real weaponry. I think we should start with archery.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Why archery?”

  “You’re half elf,” Heidel explained, her tone condescending. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  Sometimes I hated stereotypes. “I suppose I could try, but I’ve never actually shot an arrow. Or used a sword. Or a shield. Or wielded a cudgel or mace.”

  Heidel grimaced. “Have you ever fought with any weapon at all?”

  “I’ve attempted to use a knife on a few occasions, although I’ve never had much success.”

  “She will do fine,” Kull added. “She’s got the natural agility of an elf, plus she’s fought in combat, albeit with magic, but the transition will be easy enough.”

  “You’re being overly optimistic,” Heidel said. “Learning the skills of archery cannot be taught in a few days. Even someone with natural abilities cannot succeed without continuous years of practice.”

  “Not true.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’ll have me as her teacher.” He gave me a quick wink.


  “You are no teacher, brother. I believe you are misguided. You do not seriously ponder the future, and soon you will learn that overconfidence is your downfall.”

  Kull smirked. “You are wrong. I ponder the future quite often—one where you no longer badger me because you’ve realized that I am always right.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Indeed it is.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Then I fear the day you realize your inadequacy. The gods have gifted you with great strength. You have wit and charm and great luck, but you are not invincible. Father has tried to show you your follies, yet you ignore him. The mightiest hero suffers the greatest fall.”

  Kull leaned back and crossed his arms. “Hero. Yes, I like the sound of that.”

  She pushed her plate aside. “Will you ever be serious?”

  “I am always serious. This is my serious face. I’m sorry you haven’t the capability to see it.”

  She stood with clenched fists. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”

  He shoveled in a mouthful of food. “Eh? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “One day, you will fail. You will lose what you love most, and then you will realize how deluded you’ve been, only it will be too late. And Father won’t be there to save you.” She stood taller. “I… I would say more, but I will only hold my tongue because I do not wish to contribute to your intestinal discomforts.” Her cloak swished as she turned to me. “Good luck with him,” she offered before storming away.

  Kull smirked as he turned his attention to Heidel’s half-eaten food. He slid the dish across the table and scooped up a lump of meat.

  “Kull,” I said after a moment. “She may be right.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “She isn’t. She’s been on my case as long as I can remember, yet I am still alive. Don’t concern yourself with her badgering. I’ve learned to ignore her.”

  “Yes, it seems you do a great job of it.”

  “I count it as one of my greatest talents.”

  “But you must realize that she has a point.”

  “I have survived so far without listening to her advice. I don’t plan to change.”

  I studied his face. His leisurely smile and charming eyes gave him an advantage that others lacked; his people adored him; and his battle skills were unsurpassed. I’d once nicknamed him Skullsplitter, and for good reason. He had a reputation in Faythander that carried weight. Everyone knew of King Herrick’s son and his great skills. It was no wonder he had such great confidence in his abilities. He even defied his own father without worrying about the outcome. But his luck couldn’t last forever.

  “I agree that you’ve been very fortunate. But surely, you must see the danger in your overconfidence. The outer isles are unlike any place you’ve traveled. You won’t have your reputation to back you up. What if your luck runs out?”

  “Has Heidel caused you to worry over me?”

  “Heidel has nothing to do with my worrying over you.”

  “Would it help if I told you that I worry about you as well?”

  I couldn’t hide my smile. “You worry about me?”

  “All the time.”

  “You shouldn’t. I can take care of myself.”

  “Yes, I know. But it is part of our nature to worry over those we love.”

  Point taken. “All right,” I conceded. “I’ll try not worry about you if you’ll do the same for me.”

  He smiled. “Agreed.”

  Laughter erupted from King Herrick’s table, and the king banged his tankard on the table.

  “Now, if we could get your father to stop worrying about you,” I mumbled.

  “Hmm,” Kull grunted. “Not even my hero’s skills can accomplish that.”

  A few Wults from the king’s table, including Ket, stood and worked their way to the exit. When she caught sight of Kull, she gave him a knowing grin.

  I wanted to work up my courage and ask how they knew one another, but Kull grabbed my hand and helped me stand.

  “Shall we start your training?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I answered, though I kept my gaze on Ket as she turned away and left the mess hall.

  We made our way out of the room and toward the armory. The floor rocked beneath our feet, and I counted myself fortunate in not having succumbed to being sick. Kull led me to a room on the second-floor deck and ushered me inside.

  We entered a large space that could have once been a storage chamber but, thanks to the Wults, had become a full armory. Spears, swords, and battle-axes were a few of the items I spotted lining the walls.

  Rolf stood on the far side of the room, stabbing a sword at a practice dummy. The fierce concentration on his face made him oblivious to us as we approached. Swinging his sword in an arc, he spun around and then lopped off the dummy’s head.

  Kull chuckled, making Rolf look at us, surprised.

  “If you keep practicing like that, we’ll have no dummies left,” Kull said.

  “Oh,” Rolf said, his cheeks flushing as he tried to rearrange the straw-filled head on the dummy’s torso. “Sorry.”

  “No need to apologize. We need more warriors who practice with the same diligence as you.”

  “Are you here to practice?” Rolf asked. “I can leave if you’d like.”

  “No need,” Kull answered. “Perhaps you can help us. I’m teaching Olive to use the bow and arrow.”

  “Ah!” Rolf’s eyes lit up. He replaced his sword on a shelf. “That’s a good choice for you, Olive, don’t you think?”

  Again with the stereotype. “Yes, I hope so.”

  Rolf led us to a section of the makeshift armory where bows and arrows of various sizes lined the walls. The amount of weaponry was overwhelming. I scanned over the bows and arrows. Some of the bows were narrow and streamlined, while others were embellished with spikes or metal studs. My stomach turned as I scanned the rows. These weren’t the flimsy, delicate weapons I’d envisioned. These weapons were meant to kill.

  “What about this one?” Kull lifted a long, narrow bow from the shelf.

  “Yes, I think so.” Rolf grabbed up a quiver of arrows.

  We turned to the practice dummy. Rolf rearranged the straw man as Kull showed me how to nock an arrow into the bowstring. He demonstrated the maneuver once and then handed the bow and arrow to me.

  I dropped both, and they hit the floor with a loud clatter. Not a great start.

  I picked up the bow and arrow, pretty sure I’d destroyed them.

  Kull gave me a gentle smile as he looked them over.

  “Did I break them?” I asked.

  “The bow is fine. They’re meant to take a fair amount of abuse. And the arrow—” He held the arrow eye level and peered down the shaft. “It’s bent just a little. Nothing that can’t be repaired, but that’s typical of an elven arrow. We’ll use Wult arrows to practice with. They’re a little clumsier to use but should be sturdier.”

  Kull set the bent arrow aside and searched for another quiver. I crossed my arms, feeling completely out of my element. Magic had always been my weapon of choice. I wasn’t sure Kull understood how awkward this was for me. It would be like trying to teach him how to use magic.

  He returned with a quiver full of thick-shafted arrows and carefully pulled one out. I took it and thankfully didn’t drop it. It took me a few attempts, but I finally coordinated my hands long enough to nock the arrow.

  “You see?” he said. “You’re a natural.”

  Rolf took a step aside as I aimed the arrow for the dummy.

  “Be sure to pull the string tight,” Kull said. “And keep your elbow in line with your hand.”

  I did as he said but apparently wasn’t doing it correctly as he pushed my elbow higher. He gave me some advice about my line of sight, and I did my best to follow his instructions.

  “Now,” he said, “release the arrow.”

  I did, and it dropped to the ground with a loud plunk.

  Rolf raised an eyebrow.
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  “Try again,” Kull said. “This takes practice.”

  He retrieved the arrow and handed it to me just as Heidel burst inside the room. She tromped toward us with her cloak billowing behind her.

  “Kull,” she said, “Father will see you.”

  “Not now.”

  “You will not avoid him. This time, you will speak with him.”

  “I will speak with him when I am ready.”

  “You will speak with him now.”

  He rounded on her. “Why?”

  She stood tall. “If you wish to preserve your current relationship with him, then you will speak with him now.”

  Kull crossed his arms. “Tell him that I am not his dog to command.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Shall I tell him those words exactly?”

  “Yes. Word for word. I am tired of his overprotectiveness.”

  “And risk losing your position as his heir?”

  “He wouldn’t do that.”

  I intervened. Obviously, Heidel couldn’t get through to him. “Kull,” I said, “perhaps you should listen to what your father has to say.”

  He eyed me.

  “I think it would be best. Besides, I’d like to practice a little before you return.”

  He puffed out his chest. “Very well. But this will not become a habit.”

  He gave me a kiss full on the lips. When he pulled away, Heidel rolled her eyes. Without saying a word, he turned on his heel and left the room with his sister stalking behind him.

  I realized that I was holding the arrow tight enough to make my knuckles white. Kull and his father’s antics were getting under my skin, and I didn’t appreciate being stuck in the middle.

  Rolf cleared his throat. “Well,” he said. “That was interesting.”

  “That’s one word for it.”

  “I’m sure it will all blow over soon,” Rolf said. “The king’s under a lot of pressure right now. After this voyage is over, he’ll be back to his old self.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “He will be. You’ll see.”

  I wished I shared his optimism. After nocking the arrow and pulling the bowstring tight, I released the arrow, and this time it didn’t fall straight to the floor. Instead, it landed several feet away from the dummy, but it was better than my last attempt.