Adrift

by J F Rogers

  The man in the mast gestured to the guards and shouted.

  Evan pointed to the harbor entrance. “See that chain?”

  A chain—the width of my torso, covered in green slime, and strung between the two towers—hovered over the water’s surface.

  “Once they clear us, they’ll drop the chain so we can pass.”

  We were approaching the chain at a decent clip. “The ship isn’t slowing down. What happens if we run into it?”

  “The ship will sink.” Evan laughed. “Steady yourself. Your eyes are as wide as saucers. Not to worry. They’ll lower the chain in time.” He leaned over the rail.

  The guards turned the cranks, lowering the chain. Expecting to collide, I braced myself as we sailed through, but we cleared it. The inlet was longer than it had seemed from afar. A guard stood by each of the pillars. We passed three before the inlet widened into a harbor where a fleet of similar ships and various smaller watercraft rocked on the water. The stone buildings lining the rocky coast grew more impressive. As did the elaborate archway lined with pillars and the enormous castle.

  The crew continued bustling about letting down sails and tying them, heaving lines to men waiting ashore. The men on shore pulled the ship in while crewmen prepared to lower the gangplank.

  Eager for land, I hoisted my pack over my shoulders and picked up Rowan in the sack.

  Rowan hissed.

  “Sorry,” I whispered and repositioned her, hoping to make her more comfortable. Raccoons are bulky, awkward creatures.

  She settled down without further complaint.

  My arms grew tired as I waited for the crew to allow us to disembark. Pepin stood next to me, his body quivering. “Are you okay, Pepin?”

  “I will be. Just anxious for land.” His body continued to quake like the lid of a pot about to boil over.

  The crewman with the hooped earrings waved us through, and I raced down the gangplank behind Pepin. The pier met a stone roadway leading up to a massive arch with a uniquely carved pillar on either side. Their enormousness made me feel like an ant. They rivaled the wall surrounding Gnuatthara. And their beauty was unmatched by any architecture I’d ever seen.

  It smelled like the seafood section of a grocery store. Chatter and shouts mingled with lapping water, rocking boats banging against docks, ringing bells, clicking shoes, and other random thumps and clangs.

  Pepin waited with me, on his knees. He raised his arms to the heavens, then kissed the ground. After Evan, Wolf, Maili, and Shimri filed down the gangplank, we set off down the road.

  A little girl blocked our way. “Would you like an Aine?” She shoved a misshapen statue of an overly endowed woman in my face.

  “Uh. No thank you.” I strode past her, glancing into the bag full of similar statues on her back.

  “What was that?” I asked Evan once we were no longer in earshot.

  “A pagan god. The goddess of fertility.”

  “You don’t believe in that stuff, do you?”

  “Of course not.”

  I gawked, craning to peek down every side street as we wound our way up the hillside. The road leveled and ended before a large iron gate. When Evan shouted to those atop the wall, the gate lifted before us.

  We entered the courtyard. Stone pavers covered the ground. Pristine gardens lined the interior wall and the building in the courtyard’s center. A massive castle stood beyond, rooms and towers protruding in different directions.

  I wished I could whistle. “This is unreal.” Elaborate carvings and giant stained-glass windows adorned the building holding court in the center of the courtyard. I couldn’t read the foreign writings. Too bad Drochaid didn’t work on the written word. “What is that place?”

  “Their place of worship,” Evan grumbled.

  “I thought they no longer worshiped God.”

  “They don’t.”

  “Oh.”

  “Fallon!” a familiar voice called.

  My mother rushed toward me, her blonde hair shining and pink-tinged cheeks fuller than when I saw her almost a year ago. When she hugged me, she no longer felt bony. She smoothed my hair. “You made it. How was your journey?”

  “Fine.” Aside from being attacked by a mismatched pack of animals. And stuck on a ship. This queasiness and feeling as if I were still rocking would pass. Right?

  “Faolan.” The tenderness in my mother’s voice and the way she regarded Wolf before embracing him made me wonder, again, as to the nature of their relationship. It seemed more than friendship. But how awkward would that be? They were the same age, but he looked young enough to be her son.

  Pepin cleared his throat, and the two parted. “Cataleen, it’s good to see you again.” He thumped his chest twice in a pech greeting.

  I waited for Maili, Shimri, and Evan to exchange greetings with Cataleen. “Didn’t you, Cahal, and Declan go on a mission together? Are you all back?” My hopes rose.

  Cataleen dropped her gaze. “We got separated.”

  Uh-oh. That look. That tone. Bad news. My rising hopes dashed upon the jagged edge of reality.

  Cataleen brushed something off my shoulder. “I haven’t seen them yet. But they could arrive any moment. More arrive continually.” She addressed the crowd. “The clans have been called together. Most are here. The Dosne and the Olwen arrived about a fortnight ago. We’ve been awaiting your arrival to discuss our course of action.”

  “Can I come?”

  “Of course. You’re our guest of honor.”

  ****

  I knocked on the bathroom door again. The thick wood hurt my hand. “Almost ready, Rowan?”

  The door opened. Rowan emerged, brushing her hair. Though dark while damp, it looked considerably lighter now. “My apologies, Fallon. ’Tis been a while since I’ve cleaned up properly. So many…” She held onto a clump of hair, yanked her brush through, and grimaced. “…knots.”

  In the bright room, her face free from grime, she looked beautiful. Her pale, smooth skin probably hadn’t seen the sun in years. And she smelled better than she had as Crypt Girl or as a ratty raccoon.

  I sat on the bed and bounced slightly. “It’s fine. Are you almost ready?”

  “Ready?” She stared at me as she placed the brush on the nightstand. “For what?”

  “For the meeting with the elders.”

  Her ice-blue eyes glared at me as if I’d asked her to hand herself over to Morrigan. Her barely visible golden eyebrows rose, then lowered, pinching together. “I’ve no intention of attending.”

  “I just thought—”

  “Fallon, whilst I appreciate the lengths you’ve gone through on my behalf, I must insist.”

  I leaned back as if she might bite me. Where’d this forcefulness come from?

  A knock at the door made me jump. I hopped up and gave myself a quick once-over in the mirror.

  The bathroom door closed.

  I smoothed a stray strand of hair, opened the door, and deflated somewhat at the sight of my mother. “Oh, hi.”

  Cataleen raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. “You were expecting someone else?”

  “No. Come in.” I pulled the door open wide.

  “Where’s Rowan?”

  I plopped onto the bed and waved to the closed bathroom door. “Back in the bathroom. She’s not planning to join us, anyway.”

  “No worries. We can bring something up for her to eat when we return.” As awkward silence quieted us, she turned to me. Her eyes roamed the length of my body like an MRI scan. She cleared her throat. “Do you have something more…Ariboslian?”

  I checked out my jeans and T-shirt. “What should I wear?” I hadn’t anticipated any formal events.

  “Do you have a dress?”

  “I have the dress the Selkie gave me. Will that work?”

  “Much better.”

  I grabbed the dress and glanced at the closed bathroom door. “I’ll just be a minute. Meet you outside?”<
br />
  My mother nodded. “Be quick.”

  After she stepped into the hall, I changed and glanced at myself in the enormous mirror, light aqua shimmering over me in liquid ripples. Good thing I packed sandals. Hopefully, this would do. What if Declan was there?

  What if he wasn’t?

  Chapter Thirteen

  ◊◊◊

  CATALEEN LED ME DOWN ornate halls and staircases. Her heels echoed on the freshly polished floor. Portraits of unsmiling men and women bedecked in jewels peered down at us. Their seeming endlessness and similarity reminded me of a Scooby Doo cartoon loop. I swear I passed the same picture more than once. Nervous energy made my fingers tingle as I half-expected to catch a portrait’s eyes following me.

  We came to the end of a long hall to tall, arched doors. Guards with swords at their hips pulled the thick doors open, allowing laughter and chatter to escape. The guards remained stiff as we entered a grand room. Intricately carved archways adorned with decorative lanterns and exposed beams lined the high ceiling. Arched windows twice my height with gold curtains covered the walls to my right and my left. People clumped together in cliques. The fancy chatted with those bedecked in elegant clothes and jewels; the not so fancy gathered among those similarly dressed in simple tunics or dresses.

  Thank you, Cataleen, for making me change. As much as I loved them, it would have been embarrassing to show up in jeans and sneakers, even among the plainly dressed.

  I searched for one thing. The Treasach stood a couple of heads and shoulders above the rest. I’d forgotten how short Cahal was in comparison. Cahal!

  An attempt at a smile crossed his perpetually stern features. I started toward him, joy filling my heart. As I neared, his face morphed into something I’d never seen…not in his eyes. A cross between fear and hurt. His shoulders sagged, and I slowed. Cahal’s feelings, if he had any, were usually impossible to detect. Something had to be terribly wrong to read his face…to sense it before reaching him. My feet continued forward despite my hesitation. Each agonizing step leading me to news I had to know but didn’t want to hear.

  Cahal crossed the gap and smothered me in a hug. He grasped my arms and leaned down, his gaze penetrating. “Are you well?”

  “I’m okay. How are you?” Past the slight smile, his eyes held the truth.

  He let me go and returned to his full height. Another shadow darkened his face. “Much has happened since you left.”

  “So, I’ve heard.” Why did I feel like I was choking? I touched my neck. It wasn’t my dress. My neckline didn’t come up far. I swallowed hard. “How’s Declan?”

  His stoic expression cracked. Only raw pain there now. “I lost him in Diabalta.”

  Whatever held me in place began to falter. The room swayed. “Diabalta? Morrigan’s empire? Why?”

  Cahal wrapped an arm around me and led me to a chair at a nearby table. “We had to go.”

  I blinked to clear my vision. Tears stung my cheeks. “Is he… Is he…?” I couldn’t ask.

  Cahal’s shoulders drooped. He shook his head slowly, eyes closed. When he opened his eyes, he kept his gaze downcast. “I don’t know.”

  How could he say he didn’t know? I rubbed my neck to soothe whatever choked me. “You were with him.” Words clogged my throat. “What happened? Where is he?”

  “We got separated. I went back for him, but…”

  The way he spoke. His inability to meet my gaze. Something was off. The air felt heavy. Its weight made breathing difficult. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “There is nothing more. We got separated.”

  “That can’t be all. You would’ve gotten him back—no matter what.”

  His countenance drooped like a dog with his tail between his legs. “I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you.”

  “No. You’re keeping something from me. What is it? Why won’t you tell me?” Someone touched my arm. I didn’t bother turning to see who. The weight of Cahal’s words crushed me. Dead. Declan must be dead. He just couldn’t bring himself to tell me. But that wasn’t like Cahal, was it? He spoke his mind. In as few words as possible, but still. He didn’t sidestep. He didn’t hold anything back. Did he?

  “My apologies, Cahal. I should have told her sooner.” My mother pulled me to stand. “Come. Let’s return to your room.”

  I shook free. “No.” I needed to be here. To help Declan, I had to learn more. I had to find him. He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be. I sank back in my seat.

  My mother sat on one side of me, Cahal on the other. Evan, Pepin, Wolf, Shimri, and Maili filled the surrounding chairs with Maili directly across the table. Sensing her there, I jerked my head up. Searched her face. Did she know what had happened to her betrothed? Did she care?

  Bodies shuffled past, chairs scraped across the floor, and glasses clinked as I attempted to stop my cyclical thoughts. Speculating and worrying wouldn’t help. I needed to know the plans to destroy the fasgadair and my part in them.

  Guards with swords swaying at their hips escorted a man wearing a jeweled crown. Everyone stood. Including me.

  “That’s the high priest and the king’s regent, Kagan.” My mother whispered from my right.

  The guards delivered Kagan to the head of the table. He remained standing while guards took position along the wall and in twos at each exit. Another guard remained behind Kagan. He sipped from Kagan’s goblet, then handed it to him. Kagan lifted his glass. Shuffling cut the silence as everyone hurried to lift theirs. I raised mine last.

  “Peace to all,” he said and drank.

  A chorus of “peace” rang throughout. Then Kagan sat, and everyone returned to their seats.

  Clinking resumed as people reached for and passed around plates with sliced bread. A wonderful aroma wafted toward me. Servants in plain black attire lingered behind us with tureens. A serving girl waited behind me with a ladle.

  “Oh. Sorry.” I righted the upside-down bowl atop my dinner plate. She poured the steaming soup and moved to my mother. Garlic and other herbs teased me as I chased a dumpling in the broth.

  Kagan’s dark eyes roamed the crowd. Tufts of coarse gray hair seemed to hold up his jeweled crown. Matching gray dusted his darker, trim beard. Dark fabric covered his skull under the crown, probably to hide a bald spot.

  A Merlin lookalike on Kagan’s left stood. “Please allow me to thank our hosts, King Aleksander, Regent Kagan, and the king’s successor, Prince Valter”—he motioned to the ruggedly cute guy on Kagan’s other side—“and the generous people of Bandia, for giving us refuge.” He raised his glass. Once all glasses hovered in the air, he said, “Enjoy the feast!”

  “That’s Abracham.” Cataleen swallowed her mouthful of wine. “His father was king of Diabalta before Aodan captured him.”

  “Who? The one that looks like Merlin?”

  “Who’s Merlin?” She shook her head. “No, the man who was talking.”

  Yeah. The guy who looks like Merlin. Just once, it would be nice if people caught my references. I resisted rolling my eyes. “Is the king of Diabalta still alive?” Dumb question, Fallon. If he was, he’d have to be over a hundred, unless Abracham/Merlin was prematurely gray.

  My mother grimaced. “’Tis possible. Rumor is Morrigan keeps a king collection.”

  Dare I ask what a king collection was? No. It sounded self-explanatory. And I wasn’t sure I wanted the details.

  Cheers and the clinking of glass filled the hall. Conversations hummed around me. I slurped some broth, the spices unfamiliar, but wonderful. Servants removed my bowl and spooned veggies, potatoes, meat, and gravy onto my plate. Sure beat rabbit, the stale shipboard food, and even the ramen I’d lived on back home. And I had no idea when I’d get another meal.

  Declan. Heart twisting, I scooped another bite of potato. He must still be alive. Cahal didn’t sugarcoat. If he knew something certain, as hard as it might be, he would’ve told me. So, there must be a chance. And I’d need to be in
decent shape if I had any hope of helping him.

  The servants began clearing our plates, and I shoveled the last forkfuls into my mouth.

  Regent Kagan stood. “As unfortunate as it is to break this merry feast, we have urgent matters to discuss. If you are not a clan leader, kindly adjourn to the ballroom for dessert. For those of you who remain, not to worry. You will be served dessert as well.”

  The crowd politely laughed. Chairs scraped along the floor as people rose to leave. I moved to follow. My mother grasped my hand, rooting me. “Regent Kagan requested your presence. You are to stay.”

  I guess I expected as much. After all, they were waiting for my arrival to decide how to proceed, right? This should be interesting.…

  Chapter Fourteen

  ◊◊◊

  A CROWD GATHERED AT the door with Wolf, Pepin, Evan, and Shimri among them. A low murmur increased in volume as they exited. Guards shut the door with a clang, and silence reigned. Less than a quarter of the people remained, including Cahal, my mother, and Maili.

  My mother and Cahal weren’t clan leaders. Perhaps they were allowed to stay for my sake? And Maili? What had happened to her parents? Was she now the leader of her clan? Would I always be so self-consumed? I’d never made any attempt to get to know her. I needed to do better…to be better.

  The servants placed a small pie before each of us. Off-white filling sprinkled with a brownish powder. I poked it with my fork.

  “Custard tarts.” My mother tasted hers and smiled. “Try it.”

  Smooth and creamy. Sweet and spicy. Delicious. I savored each morsel and scraped my plate for every minuscule crumb. Guilt sweeping over me, I frowned at the gleaming white plate. How could I sit here enjoying this food with Declan missing? Someone had to do something. I had to do something. But what?

  The regent cleared his throat and stood once more. “I don’t deny the enmity that has existed between us over the centuries. But the fasgadair banded us together for a common cause. As you’re all too aware, they will overtake us completely if we don’t act. We are the final remnant of our race. It’s time we put aside our differences and join forces. We are stronger together.”