Into the Wind

by Anthony, Shira

  Odhrán considered this for a moment and Taren felt his hesitation. His fear. “I’ll do better than that,” he finally said, his lips curving upward as he spoke. “I will take you there.”

  Take me?

  “Aboard my ship, the Chimera.”

  Taren stared at Odhrán, too surprised to speak. Your ship?

  “Aye. She’s nearly as ancient as I, but she’s soundly built and fast too.” Pride glimmered brightly in Odhrán’s eyes as he said this.

  But you’ve been on the island for centuries, Taren said. How is this possible?

  “My men have sailed her. James,” Odhrán said as a smile danced over his face, “is quite adept at pretending to be me, as you well know. And before him, his father.”

  Then the stories?

  “Of the ‘cruel pirate Odhrán’?” Odhrán swam around him as if buoyed by the topic. “A lie. My men have only killed to protect themselves. From time to time they will steal another ship’s bounty, but never legitimate cargo.”

  Pirate spoils?

  “Aye. But we obtain most of the supplies my cave-dwelling men require through honest transactions with the locals. They sell the lighted crystals I enchant,” Odhrán explained.

  Do you plan to reveal yourself, then? Show them your true form?

  “My human form,” Odhrán said. “Aye. High time too.”

  But your secret—

  “I no longer need to keep that particular secret. I never hid to protect myself. I only hid to protect the stone. Regardless of whether you change my mind about the Ea, I no longer have a reason to remain apart from the world.” Now Odhrán smiled openly. “Besides, much as I love to swim in the open sea, there are few things I love more than to be upon it.” He gestured Taren toward the island. “Come, Taren. We have much to do to ready my ship. It’s been far too long since she sailed.”

  “THE PHANTOM is under repair on Cera, not far from the port city,” Odhrán told Taren as they boarded the Chimera the next morning. “She is surrounded by enchantments in a secluded cove. No doubt your captain fears the humans will seek to destroy her and her crew while she is vulnerable.”

  “You… you knew that the attacking ship was human?” Taren shouldn’t be surprised. These islands were Odhrán’s stronghold, and a battle just offshore wouldn’t have escaped his attention. Still, Odhrán clearly knew far more about the Phantom’s precarious situation than he’d expected.

  Odhrán laughed, the sound bright and melodic. “Of course. How do you think you ended up on the beach?”

  “You? You pulled me from the water?” Taren struggled to remember but still recalled nothing.

  “You were unconscious. As badly injured as you were, you might have drowned.”

  “Thank you for coming to my rescue.” Taren inclined his head. “I remember watching the battle, hoping the wind might favor our ship.” Even now he recalled the wind shifting direction, and shivered with pleasure as a gust lifted his hair from his neck. He focused his attention once more on Odhrán and noticed the corners of his mouth turn slightly upward.

  “What do you find so amusing?” Taren asked, as always unafraid to speak his mind.

  Odhrán ignored Taren’s question and pointed to Taren’s necklace. “I still haven’t been paid.”

  “I doubt it would do Brynn any good.” Taren chuckled, knowing Odhrán had said this in jest. “It’s worth little to anyone but me.”

  “I know it may seem strange, but it reminds me of Astenya,” Odhrán said with a wistful expression. “The country is quite beautiful.”

  “The Eastern Lands?” Taren fingered the necklace and considered this. Had his parents traveled there before they died?

  “Aye. Nowhere else can you find shells like those. Where did you come by it?”

  “My mother left it with Laxley the rigger when she left me in his care. He gave it to me only recently. Perhaps my father found it in a marketplace and gave it to her. I’m glad she left it with me.” Taren smiled. “But I do owe Brynn payment. He did well in finding you.”

  Odhrán’s laughter reminded Taren of the sound of the tiny bells from the vision of Odhrán’s past. “I’m sure Brynn will exact a price at some point in the future. He’s a wily one, that boy.” Odhrán winked before turning and shouting, “Time to set sail, James! We haven’t all day.”

  “Aye, sir!” James stood tall and proud. Taren guessed he was anxious to show Odhrán how well he’d kept his ship for him. “It’s a pleasure to have you aboard, Captain.”

  Taren found it hard not to admire the Chimera. Though slightly smaller than the Sea Witch or the Phantom, she was sleek and built of wood lovingly polished so that she shone in the sunlight. The wood had a slightly reddish cast to it, with hints of purple and orange. Taren caressed the foremast, marveling at the smooth surface, drawn to it like he’d been drawn to some of the reefs Ian had shown him. A beautiful thing. Vibrant. Almost alive.

  “Wythene wood,” Odhrán told him with a note of obvious pride in his voice. “From the Eastern Lands. Quite rare. The trees are only found in the high mountains near the northern coast.”

  “One of a kind, she is,” James added as he walked by before barking a few more commands to the crew.

  Odhrán nodded and smiled. “After I left the capital city,” he told Taren, “I spent some time in those parts. Quite isolated. Mostly fishing villages. I designed the Chimera myself. Supervised the men who built her.”

  How old was the ship? Taren had heard of ships decades old. But centuries old? He glided his fingers over the wood again, then looked back to Odhrán. “She…,” he began, unsure of how to explain what he felt when he touched the wood. “It’s strange. She feels almost….”

  “Magical?” Odhrán finished. His smile broadened. “That she is. Like the crystals in the caves, the wood conducts the energy I provide her.” He touched the wood much like Taren, then added, “She is nearly eight hundred years old.”

  “Eight hundred? But—”

  “The magic protects her from the elements. She’s hardly invincible,” Odhrán told Taren, “but she is far sturdier than she appears.”

  Much like Odhrán, Taren silently observed as one of the men shouted that the anchor was aweigh, and the ship silently moved out of the safety of her island anchorage and into open water. Closer to Ian. Taren felt Ian’s heart stir within his own chest as they passed through the island’s enchantments. Closer to home.

  Twenty-Two

  IAN PACED the deck as he’d done every day for nearly a week now, ever since the Phantom had limped to shore. Their mission to the Gateways had always been to find Odhrán and secure the rune stone before Seria and the island Ea took it for their own. But when Ian had sent several men to look for Odhrán, they’d understood they were also to report any news of Taren. There had been none until the night before, when an Ea had shown up off their port bow, asking to speak with Ian.

  He’d not gone to look for Taren himself since Renda had taken him to task for it. Renda’s sharp tongue and equally sharp words had helped him keep his promise to remain with the ship. “You are captain of this ship first, the boy’s protector second,” Renda had repeated when Ian had been at the limits of his patience. “Your men need you to reassure them.”

  “He’s no boy,” Ian had snapped.

  To which Renda had just smiled and said, “Then my point is well taken.”

  It had been six days since Taren had disappeared during the battle, but Ian could sense his presence. This was the only thing that kept Ian reasonably sane, even with all the repairs that needed to be made to the Phantom. He’d already decided that if his men had no word of Taren by the end of the week, he’d look for Taren himself, Renda be damned. And then the Ea calling himself Garan had told Ian that Taren was safe and would return to the Phantom in a few days.

  “Why should I believe you?” Ian demanded.

  Garan answered with a shake of his head. “Because I speak the truth and Odhrán is a man of his word. But I’ll gladly remai
n aboard as your hostage should you require a guarantee of his safety. As you can see, I’m unarmed.”

  “And a powerful enough mage to defeat my enchantments,” Renda wryly observed.

  In the end, Ian decided to lock Garan in the brig, though he doubted the bars would keep him there long should he wish to flee. Garan, however, did not attempt an escape, giving Ian more reassurance that Taren would return as promised.

  “Do you trust them?” Barra, his navigator, asked Ian when yet another day passed and there was no word from Taren.

  “I have little choice.” Ian refilled their tankards with the last of the ale they’d brought from the mainland when they’d left weeks before. “We’ve heard nothing of him in town, and although I sense his presence and know he’s well, I cannot sense where he is.”

  “And what of this Odhrán?” Barra sipped his drink and eyed Ian with obvious skepticism. “Will he demand something of us in return for his hostage?”

  Ian had considered this question before but still had no answer for it. He wasn’t sure Taren truly was a hostage. That Odhrán had sent one of his men to them—a mage and an Ea, no less—seemed a gesture of good faith. Then again, if Taren was not a hostage, why had it taken Odhrán so long to bring him back? And if Odhrán, like Garan, was Ea, which master did he serve? Vurin or the Council?

  Too many questions. Too few answers. Ian unclenched his jaw and took a long swig of his ale.

  THE FOG the past two days was denser than usual, obscuring all but a few yards beyond the Phantom. None of them saw the launch approach until she was nearly on their bow.

  “It’s Taren!” one of the men shouted.

  “Thank you for your loving sustenance,” Ian murmured to the goddess in the ancient tongue. He made his way across the deck, arriving at the place where his men had dropped ropes in time to see Taren climb onto the ship, followed by a graceful young man with long blond hair. A beautiful young man, and yet Ian’s eyes were for Taren alone. His Taren, back safely and no worse for wear. His skin shone with the look of a man who had recently transformed, and his eyes were bright with pleasure. His hair, which had been knotted at the back of his neck as Taren preferred, had begun to loosen, allowing strands of silky brown to fly free and frame his face.

  “Ia—Captain.” Ian heard Taren’s quick breath as their eyes met. “It’s good to be back.”

  “It’s good to have you back,” Ian replied, knowing that if he said more, he might lose control of his emotions and take Taren into his arms in front of his crew. Not that they’d be surprised, since they all knew Taren and Ian were as good as handfasted, but Ian had always done his best not to show Taren any preferential treatment.

  “Captain Ian Dunaidh,” Taren said, motioning to his left, “this is Odhrán, captain of the Chimera. I owe him my thanks and my life. He healed my wounds when I was separated from the Phantom.”

  Odhrán? This boy was the pirate he’d heard stories of since he was young?

  Odhrán took a step forward and offered Ian his hand in greeting. “I’ve heard much about you,” he said in a voice that, in spite of its youth, resonated with cool confidence.

  “And I you,” Ian murmured as he took Odhrán’s hand. Ian sensed something more in that touch. Odhrán was neither human nor Ea. “Then it’s true. The hybrids are not a myth.”

  Odhrán said, “I am the only one I know of.”

  Ian had heard other Ea call beings like Odhrán half-breeds and monsters. He’d come to understand that the Ea feared beings like Odhrán not as much for their power, but because the Ea feared humankind. Growing up amongst humans, Ian had never known the same hatred of men. He’d found love and acceptance among humans and had never considered mating between human and Ea an abomination.

  But what did Odhrán want with Taren? Ian bristled to imagine it, though he managed to maintain his control. He’d not react without speaking to Taren first. He had no fear of Odhrán, but he also didn’t trust him. Wouldn’t trust him with Taren’s safety without knowing more about his intentions.

  “We will speak later,” Ian said. He would find out what he could from Taren and decide what to do about Odhrán afterward. He wouldn’t be able to contain himself if he didn’t speak to Taren in private and reassure himself that Taren was truly safe. In the meantime, he’d have Renda learn what he could about Taren’s “savior.” “My quartermaster, Renda, is at your disposal.”

  “Thank you, Captain.” Odhrán controlled his expression, but Ian thought he saw a glimmer of amusement there.

  Ian ignored this and turned to Taren, saying, “You’re with me.” He spun on his heels and, without another word, headed down the steps to the captain’s quarters.

  TAREN NODDED to Odhrán, then followed Ian down the steps in silence. He knew the expression he’d seen on Ian’s face; he was angry. In their brief months together before they’d left the mainland, Taren had rarely seen that expression directed at him. He took a deep breath as he stepped inside the cabin. Ian closed the door behind them and Taren steeled himself.

  Ian turned, but instead of a tirade, he pinned Taren against the door and kissed him—a joyous, soul-warming kiss that pulled at Taren’s heart and welcomed him home to Ian’s powerful embrace. The tension in Taren’s shoulders abated as he relaxed into Ian’s arms, tasted Ian, inhaled him, and drank in his presence. Ian, too, relaxed as Taren responded with elation to the press of their bodies together.

  “Goddess.” Ian buried his face in Taren’s hair. “I feared I’d never see you again. When I awoke to find Renda tending to me and you gone, I—”

  Taren pulled away and pressed two fingers to Ian’s lips. “I’m sorry. I was so foolish to think that you hadn’t thought about attacking them from below.”

  “It’s my fault. I should have just told you about the magic. But when you didn’t return, I feared you’d been imprisoned.”

  “From what I saw of the Phantom, I feared I might have lost you.”

  “The last volley snapped the mizzen.” Ian sighed and shook his head. “If the wind hadn’t shifted, there’d have been nothing left of the ship to repair.”

  “I heard the blast.” Taren shuddered. “I remember the wind shifting, but then something hit me. Part of the mizzen, perhaps?”

  “No.” Ian narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “I saw you jump to port. The mizzen fell starboard. Are you sure he didn’t attack you?”

  “Odhrán? Why would he want to harm me? He was the one who healed me. He saw me drifting, bleeding.”

  Ian furrowed his brow. “What does he want from you?” Taren felt jealousy roll off Ian like waves pounding the surf.

  “Want? From me? Nothing, best I can tell. In fact, he gave me something.” Taren reached under his shirt and withdrew the stone. It warmed to his touch.

  “He… gave it to you?” Ian blinked and parted his lips.

  “Gave it back to me.” Taren gazed down at the stone and rubbed his thumb over its smooth surface.

  “Back?”

  “Aye. Treande gave the stone to him for safekeeping.”

  “Treande?” Ian rubbed a hand over his chin. “But Treande died centuries ago.”

  “Odhrán is far older than he appears. Perhaps a thousand years old.”

  Ian shook his head and walked over to his desk. “I don’t believe it,” he said. “Ea live a few hundred years at best. Mages longer. But a thousand years?”

  Taren felt that familiar ache of loss return as he thought of Treande and how long he’d survived after Owyn’s death. “But you know he’s not Ea. And to see him transform…. He’s far larger, more powerful. I’ve only seen a little of his magic, but I daresay his magic is stronger even than Vurin’s.” Taren shook his head. “And yet our people cast him out.”

  “If he’s that powerful, it’s no surprise they feared him. The Council would have done the same if he’d been born on Ea’nu.”

  “And what of the Phantom?” Taren asked, not eager to revisit his own experiences with the Council.
/>   Ian frowned. “The repairs will take weeks. Months, perhaps.”

  “Months?” The realization of how vulnerable they were here struck Taren with particular force. “But there is talk of strangers in Gate Town, asking about the ship.”

  “I know. We’ve heard this too. If we could safely put in to port, the repairs might go faster. But hidden as we are, the men cannot easily buy supplies in town without rousing suspicion. We’ve had to work the timbers for the mast ourselves lest someone catch wind of our location.”

  “But what if the Council, or whoever attacked us, returns to finish the job? What then? If Odhrán’s men could locate the ship….”

  “I’ve sent word to Vurin. The Sea Witch is nearby.” Ian chuckled. “It seems Rider was concerned for your safety.”

  The news that Rider and his crew were nearby eased Taren’s mind. “I’m glad to hear it. I’m sure Odhrán will defend us as well, if it comes to that.”

  “We’ve no need for his assistance,” Ian said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  Once again sensing Ian’s jealousy peak, Taren drew Ian against him and ran his fingers through Ian’s hair. “He’s a friend, nothing more.” He kissed Ian’s cheek, nose, and mouth. “You have nothing to fear. Did you not tell me yourself we are soulbound?”

  “Am I that obvious?” Ian’s shoulders slumped and Taren could almost see the tension seep out of him. Taren knew how much he still struggled with his more primal instincts, and truth be told, a part of him enjoyed Ian’s attentions. Ian’s possessiveness was like a balm to him. Until he’d met Rider, he’d never felt wanted. Until he’d met Ian, he’d never felt needed. Loved. Cherished.

  “I don’t mind,” Taren said, “much as I wish you would believe there is none other for me.”

  “My jealousy has done nothing but anger you. But there is more than jealousy at work here. I do not trust Odhrán.”