She'd been hoping the jungle would start to thin soon; instead, it became nearly impassable. Rastas expressed his displeasure when the rains came and there was no place dry for him to lie. While Allette and Thundegar hacked their way through the lush vegetation, he lay under broad fronds, looking miserable as water poured over his soft coat in spite of the large leaves. Frustration set in early for Allette, who had trouble believing just how tough the native plants, branches, and vines were. Knowing many of these plants harbored wildlife and just as many bore natural defenses ready to shred skin, slowed progress even further.
"Maybe we should go back," Allette said. "Maybe all this is just a bad idea."
"No," Thundegar said. "I've waited too long already. I'd given up on living because all the other options were just too hard. I gave up on everything, but you remind me what it is to be alive, and now my hands itch for a hammer and my arms for a woman. No. There'll be no going back."
It was then Allette realized that Thundegar was doing more than just leaving his home; thanks to her, he once again wanted to live his life. Feeling much better about herself, Allette took to the vegetation with renewed vigor, and before long they were moving again, albeit slowly. Rastas dragged himself from beneath the fronds and followed, his fur drooping and matted. When he reached her side, the cat shook and sent musky-smelling water in every direction.
"Crazy cat," Allette said and Thundegar smiled.
* * *
"Fishing is a lousy way to run a ship," Mord said.
Becker Dan steeled himself. He'd known his time was running short. There had been no word from the captain or Allette--just thinking the name hurt. Plenty of correspondence had been received from those the captain owed money, amounts far larger than Becker would ever have guessed. He couldn't imagine how the captain could have borrowed so much. What could he have possibly spent such a kingly sum on?
"We either pay the slip fees we owe," Mord continued, "or they're going to stop letting us sell fish in Maiden Harbor."
"If we keep selling fish in Maiden Harbor, the rest of the creditors are likely to try to seize the ship." As much as Becker didn't want to admit it, Mord was right. "Where do you suggest we go?"
A broad smile crossed Mord's face. "Do you remember when that storm pushed us out into the Endless Sea a few years back?"
"I do," Becker said; it had been a harrowing experience. He knew what was coming next.
"You remember those islands we found?" Mord asked, clearly knowing that Becker remembered. All of them had wanted to explore the islands, which had looked like green jewels amid otherwise deep seas. "Maybe it would be good if the Maker's Mark disappeared into the Endless Sea, never to be seen or heard from again."
"And what would you name her?" Becker asked, having known Mord's end game for some time.
"Don't care. This ain't personal, Becker. It's business. The way I see it, the cap'n's dead and so's his get. Dead or locked up. Either way, they ain't coming back. We gotta start over, my friend. Would you rather start anew with all the cap'n's debts or start fresh? A new masthead and some paint and all those debts disappear. Besides, you can't tell me you don't want to know what else is on those islands."
Becker knew he wasn't Mord's friend. The man tolerated him only because of the power he wielded, power not gained by tenure or rank, but by friendship and camaraderie with his shipmates--at least most of them. This was the most difficult kind of power to overthrow, and Mord had little choice but to convince Becker to go along with him; without him, he'd lose well more than half the crew's support. Still, Becker knew he needed to watch his back as well as look out for those he held so dear. After all, it was all of their futures at stake. Becker had done the best he could to preserve Allette's inheritance, but the time had come to bow to practicality. The Maker's Mark would be no more. The one thing that Mord was right about was Becker's desire to explore those islands. It had seemed the perfect kind of place to hide things, and he'd wondered ever since the day they had discovered them if someone else had found them long ago and what might still be hidden there. It answered all of the desires that had driven him to be a sailor in the first place, to move without boundaries and to explore and find new places and things.
It was with great sorrow that he gave the orders, and many a prayer was said among the crew. These people knew what was happening, and the significance wasn't lost on them. None of them were stupid; the stupid did not survive at sea. The waves were quick to claim those not smart enough to respect her. Becker knew that trying to find those islands in the Endless Sea was risky; after all, it was not named the Endless Sea without reason. With a prayer of his own, he cast a gold ring into the waves, a rich offering from a man who knew he would need the gods' luck to survive.
* * *
The Dragon's Wing moved through calm waters by the power of wind and sail alone. Within her deckhouse, most of those aboard gathered; only a couple crewmen were left on deck.
"We can take it back," Chase said. "I know who's loyal to our cause. We could depose Trinda without much bloodshed."
"Her blood being the exception," Sinjin said.
"I'm sorry, Sinjin," Chase said. "If we're to retake the keep, then she cannot be allowed to live. What she did when she took the keep from your mother was an act of war, as is what she's done to Edling, though he deserves everything he gets. That doesn't change the fact that Trinda is a usurper."
"No," Sinjin said. "No one was killed when Trinda took Dragonhold. My mother was gone, and Trinda knew she wasn't coming back." Sinjin had to take a moment to breathe after saying those words. "I don't think she is a usurper, in that instance; she is an opportunist. I'll grant you the point regarding Master Edling, but as you said, he deserved it."
"If we leave Trinda in power, then we cannot stay, at least not without being in rebellion," Chase said. "We do have the Arghast on our side."
"No bloodshed," Sinjin said.
"I agree with the boy," Brother Vaughn said. "Though I detest what Trinda has done, I don't wish her or anyone on the Godfist dead. Despite her short rule, she's been fair and not without compassion. Some people would rally to her. And Catrin is gone." Realizing what he had just said, Brother Vaughn fell silent.
"All right," Chase said, rubbing the dark, stubbly growth on his cheeks. "Where else can we go?"
After a long silence, Benjin finally spoke. "There is a place that we might go. When I was there last, we were ill prepared, but--"
"No," Fasha said. "The shallows are no place for people."
"It wasn't that bad," Benjin said. "And we would be better prepared this time."
"That's where I almost lost you," Fasha said quietly, and no one argued the point. "The Falcon Isles at least have some civilized places," she continued.
"You call that civilized?" Brother Vaughn asked. "That place is crawling with thieves, pirates, and outcasts. And once you leave 'civilization,' you're at the mercy of Nat Dersinger, whose loyalties are as questionable as his sanity."
Fasha raised an eyebrow.
"No offense intended," Brother Vaughn said. "Not all pirates are created equal."
Fasha said nothing, but she no longer looked as if she might loosen his teeth. Sinjin cradled his face in his hands, and no one said anything for a time. All this was simply too much; his mind could not comprehend the enormity of the situation. He had no home. That thought alone made Sinjin want to cry, but that was not what was needed of him and he knew it. Not to mention that Kendra and Gwen were present and he didn't want them to see him cry.
"The Arghast expected my mother to help them," Sinjin said, and Chase made an annoyed sound. "Halmsa has dragon eggs."
"Halmsa's lost his senses," Chase said. "That man is so convinced in the prophecy that he risks everything just to make it come true; that much has already been proven by that suicidal voyage. I thought Kenward was reckless, but Halmsa makes him look staid."
"About Halmsa," Brother Vaughn said, and the gazes that turned to him were not entire
ly friendly--perhaps rightly so. "I would not tread on this topic if not for its relevance to this decision." The expressions in the room remained unchanged, and Brother Vaughn coughed before continuing. "What has been described as an attack on Kyrien by the feral queen does not sound like an attack to me."
Sinjin tried not to react. Had Brother Vaughn come to the same unlikely conclusion that he had?
"The behavior strikes me as being a great deal more like a mating ritual," Brother Vaughn continued.
Sinjin listened in silence, unwilling to let himself hope. Even if he was right, it didn't explain why his mother and Kyrien had not come back to him. It was that thought which led him to believe that it could still be correct, that is, if Kyrien and his mother had simply perished in the process. Such things were not unheard of in the natural world, and this case was certainly outside the norm.
"You think those eggs are part regent and part feral?" Benjin asked, looking uncomfortable.
"I know it's a stretch," Brother Vaughn said. "But I still think it's possible. I've no reference for the size of feral eggs, but I know from the description Prios gave me, regent eggs are considerably larger."
"If that's the case," Benjin said. "They might not even hatch."
"Absent a dragon queen, they may not hatch even if they are viable," Brother Vaughn said.
"And if these truly are feral eggs, then what?" Benjin asked.
"We'd have to kill them," Sinjin said, and everyone turned to look at him. "Thorakis was lost to a juvenile feral. What would stop the dragons from turning the Arghast against us?" Kendra's expression changed as she watched him. Was that grudging respect he saw there? "Part of me wants to think that the eggs are Kyrien's offspring, but I'm not even certain that changes anything. How can we know that part feral is not worse than full-blooded feral?"
"I don't know for certain," Brother Vaughn said, somehow able to maintain his optimism no matter how slim the chances, "but my gut tells me that those eggs might be our best hope."
"I wish I shared your confidence," Sinjin said, "but either way, I feel that we owe it to my mother and father to see that these dragon eggs don't threaten the world."
"Just remember that not all dragons are evil," Brother Vaughn said, and Sinjin nodded, knowing there was no sense arguing the point.
Either way, he knew he needed to be there if these dragons hatched. Somehow he knew it would be up to him whether these beasts lived or died, and that knowing put a terrible weight on his heart. He cursed himself for feeling the weight of an imagined burden, but it changed nothing. It was almost the same feeling he'd had when he'd woken from a dream where he and Durin had fought, and even though the fight had never taken place, Sinjin had still been angry with Durin. Reason would tell him these feelings made no sense, but his emotions made it clear that they didn't always follow reason. When he looked up and saw Gwen watching him, he suspected she was feeling much the same.
"I'll go with the Arghast," Sinjin said. His statement was greeted with anxious silence. "Trinda did not say that none of you could remain on the Godfist, and for many of you, this is home. I don't wish to take you away from that, especially not for a life of such uncertainty. I can't even say for sure where the Arghast are going. I just know that I have to go with them."
"You're not running off without me again!" Durin shouted, and to make his point, he moved to Sinjin's side and would not let go of his shirt.
Kendra smiled until Sinjin met her eyes; then she frowned. He would never understand her; of that, he was certain.
"All those here are here by choice, are they not?" Brother Vaughn asked.
Sinjin had expected at least a couple of people to cull themselves from his ranks, but all those aboard seemed set on remaining in his company, and he couldn't help but feel blessed, even if he didn't deserve it. These people had been loyal to his mother and somehow that loyalty had transferred to him. It was a strange thing, and he came to see how dynasties might form. Perhaps not all monarchies were built on foundations of blood spilled, but instead from blood inherited. Regardless, he felt responsible for the futures of all these people and came to know some of how his mother must have once felt. She'd been responsible for the future of the entire world. For Sinjin, his responsibilities did not reach so far, yet they felt no less onerous. With this responsibility came an increased sense of urgency.
"Pelivor, Gwen," Sinjin said, and he saw the glint in Kendra's glare. "Would you take us back to the Arghast with all haste?"
"Is there a problem?" Pelivor asked, his concern clear.
"No," Sinjin said. "It's probably silly of me, but now that our course is decided, I find myself ready to get on with the task at hand."
With a nod, Pelivor headed for the prow. Gwen gave him her most winning smile, and drops of liquid fire dripped from her fingers before fizzling out on the floor. Seemingly unaware, Gwen strutted from the room, ignoring the bits of flame and most definitely ignoring Kendra.
Sinjin prepared himself to pay the price for his choices. When he looked up to Kendra, her arms were crossed over her chest. Sinjin sighed. Only the fact Durin was by his side kept him from melancholy.
"C'mon," Durin said. "Let's go somewhere where we can talk--alone. They don't need us to sail the ship, and you're not going to believe some of what I have to tell you."
Though Durin whispered, others heard his words, though no one tried to dissuade them from leaving the galley. Part of Sinjin wanted to revert into his childhood self and run off with Durin to play, but he'd changed, and now he had responsibilities. In the end, he decided to do as Durin asked, but his reasons were different than they would have once been. For that, he was sorry. Durin might have sensed the change, but it was clear he didn't care.
"I know you probably think I'm being foolish," Durin said almost as soon as they stepped on deck, "but there're things you need to know, and I'm not so sure I trust everyone else on this ship. Don't look at me like that; Kendra's own mother betrayed you."
Sinjin wished he could argue with Durin, but he could not, and his friend knew it.
"Trinda's up to something. She's got her eyes on more than just the Godfist."
"What makes you say that?" Sinjin asked.
"She's building a fleet of ships--big ships."
"The Godfist has always had a large fishing fleet," Sinjin said. "I'm not surprised to hear it's being rebuilt."
"She's building fishing ships too," Durin said. "And those, she's having built in the dry dock in Harborton, unlike the other ships--the warships."
"And where is she building these warships?"
"In the mountains," Durin said, and Sinjin turned to meet his eyes. "At the top of the mountains."
"How does she plan to get them into the water?" Sinjin asked even as Pelivor and Gwen coaxed the Dragon's Wing into the air. A cold, sick feeling overcame him. Durin didn't answer and didn't look as if he felt any better about the implications or the sensation of the ship leaving the water. "Is there anything else?"
"By the gods," Durin said. "They're not going to drop us, are they? Are you sure this is safe?"
"You get used to it," Sinjin said.
Durin shook his head, and he looked as if he were doing his best to appear brave. "Trinda has figured out how Dragonhold works."
"What do you mean?"
"The water, the lifts, the stone forest, all of it, somehow she knows how all this stuff works. I don't get it. She always seemed like such a dolt, and now she's figured out the secrets of your mother's ancient underground fortress."
"Will it help the people of the Godfist survive?"
"Yes," Durin said. "I think she's figured out how to have the hold be self-sufficient, though she never says anything about it."
"Good," Sinjin said. "Then it's better that she retain Dragonhold. I've no idea how the hold works, and I lived there my entire life. If she can bring the hold back to its true potential and keep our people safe, then I say we let her do just that."
"It's not all good,"
Durin said. "She's collecting every herald globe your mother ever made. And she knows how to use them as weapons. And there are other things she knows about in Dragonhold, things she won't talk about to anyone. I bet she wouldn't even admit to knowing about them if she was asked, but I know they exist, and I know she knows. That's one of the reasons I had to come. I wanted to come anyway, but the fact that she was probably going to have me killed was extra motivation."
"You really think she would've had you killed?"
"She told me so herself."
Sinjin's jaw dropped open.
"She didn't use those exact words, but she told me I was free to join you, and that it might be a good idea since she couldn't guarantee my safety. If that wasn't a threat, then I'm an Edling."
His head spinning, Sinjin tried to adjust his perception of reality based on all this new information that conflicted with what he had always believed. Sinjin hesitated. Dragonhold had always seemed like a sleeping giant, but to know that it now lived as it once had, breathing fire and water, Sinjin couldn't help wishing his mother had lived to see it. She had worked for so long to understand the place her father and Benjin had discovered all those years ago, and now that her dreams were coming to fruition, only he remained to witness it. It stung that he didn't get to see it for himself. All his life the people around him had struggled to make a life in that hold, and now someone else had discovered its secrets. Reminded of those who now accompanied him, Sinjin did his best not to feel sorry for himself.
Chapter 10
Each of us has the capacity for greatness, what varies most is the extent of our belief.
--Master Jarvis, teacher
* * *
The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) Page 57
