Sea of Strangers

by Erica Cameron

  “Maybe,” I admit grudgingly. “Or maybe we can find a way to fix the damage. We can’t do that until after Varan has stopped causing it, though.”

  “And he won’t stop causing it until he’s dead,” Rai says.

  I have to end this or he’ll unmake the world, cracking it open with lightning and drowning it with ocean swells.

  “He’s not here yet, and we need to stick to the plan until that changes.” I say it, but once Tessen made me aware of the atmosphere above our heads, I can’t pull my attention away from it completely. As we slide down the muddy hill to get level with the coast, that awareness gets sharper.

  I match my pace to Tessen’s. “Is it getting closer?”

  “Yes, and I don’t like it.” He looks up again, his full lips pursed and worry around his eyes. “I don’t know what this is or where it’s coming from or why, but there is nothing about this that feels like a good thing, Khya.”

  I pass the warning to the others, but there’s nothing anyone can do. None of us can be more on guard than we already are, and unless we’re about to stumble on another broken katsujo that I can fix, there’s nothing we can do to alter the nature of the desosa. I don’t know if even the Kaisubeh themselves can.

  “Keep moving, then.” I try to tell myself that the sooner we get to a ship, the sooner we can get to Shiara and stop what’s coming. No matter how often those words repeat inside my head, they don’t get more believable.

  A mile of muddy, forested hills later, we break onto a wide, sandy beach. The waves crash fast and hard on the shore, each one rising several feet over my head. When the waves pull out, the tide is so strong the shoreline grows another twenty feet.

  I’ve seen this before in a storm when a wave almost taller than the wall of Itagami crashed onto the shore. Before the wave, before the crash and the damage, there was this, a moment when the sea became a desert of sand and rocks.

  In a way, it’s a relief. The storm is vicious and brutal and it scares me to even consider getting on a boat that will take me into that, but that’s all I see. Water and lightning and clouds so dark they look solid. No army. Not even within Tessen’s range.

  Only now do I realize how sure I was of what I would see. Only when the knot of terror in my chest loosens do I understand how far down I’d stuffed the belief that Varan would be standing on the waves.

  I’m rarely this happy to be wrong.

  “Khya, look.”

  My heart stops, fear tightening my chest, but Tessen isn’t looking out to sea, he’s looking up. I follow his gaze and my pulse quickens for a whole different reason.

  We’re standing between the feet of the Kaisubeh. The statues I saw from Kazu’s ships, the Zohogasha spread along this section of the coast. Not the same ones, but they’re almost identical. And so much taller than I could’ve imagined. They make the trees look small. They make us look like grains of sand. They tower over our heads and I can’t fathom how any human hands could’ve made these without magic. Yes, they’re useless symbols but they represent a very real power, and I can’t help feeling glad that we’ll be leaving under the gaze of the same stone eyes that first spotted us on the water. It feels like a good omen.

  “The harbor is on the eastern side of the peninsula,” Soanashalo’a says, drawing my attention back to the ground. She keeps walking, and we follow, staying close to the rocks and the treeline to keep from getting sucked in by the upsweep of the waves. “The ships here fish the deep seas, where the storms get the worst, so the crews are veterans of storms and typhoons. If anyone will be able to get you across the Arayokai Sea in something as bad as this, it will be someone there.”

  “I was already worried we’d have to steal a ship, but look at that.” Tessen gestures out to the sea, flinching when three streaks of blue-white lightning flash across the sky. “What can we possibly offer them to make taking a risk like this worthwhile? Would any of you risk walking across the desert in a storm like this because a stranger asked you to?”

  “What are we offering? You mean aside from the chance to save their homes and their families?” Sanii asks. “That should be more than enough.”

  “Maybe,” Etaro agrees. “If they believe us.”

  “And if they don’t think we caused this problem,” Rai mutters.

  “Stealing a ship was always an option.” My words are steady, somehow. Mostly because I keep my eyes well away from the roiling ocean. “If that’s what we have to do, we will.”

  No one says a word. They don’t need to. I can feel their doubt and their fear like a chill in the already cold air. I also know they’d do it, if I told them to. They might argue with me, point out every possible way the plan would end with us lost and dying at sea, but they would still get on a stolen ship with me if that was what I ordered.

  Which is why I can’t order it until we don’t have any other choice.

  The wet sand makes traveling slow. This was the route least likely to be watched by the Ryogans, but it makes me miss the semi-solid feel of the forest paths under my feet. Even though the mud in the forest sucked in our boots and splattered over everything, it was only a few inches deep in most places. This sand isn’t the packed, hard-pressed stuff I’m used to on Shiara, it’s marshy and mucky and sometimes there’s nothing but air under a layer of the stuff. Zonna has to fix three sprained ankles in less than two miles because even Tessen can’t always predict where the ground is going to fail us.

  “Just another half mile and we should be able to see the harbor.” Soanashalo’a is breathing hard, her posture drooping.

  The end is so close now. A quarter mile. Two hundred yards. One hundred yards.

  Rounding a sharp, high outcropping of rock, we can see the broad curve of the protected harbor, but...

  Soanashalo’a sucks in a sharp breath. “Oh, no.”

  We’re too late.

  The harbor is almost empty, and the ships still anchored in the middle of the bay or tied to the poles rising out of the water are lopsided and broken.

  I’d guess that almost every other ship sailed away from land within the last several days, probably heading north. They likely left as soon as the ships at sea started disappearing and the storm on the horizon became this monstrous thing. And the storm was bad enough. Not one, not one ship, is going to be sailing toward the incoming army.

  The front line stretches for at least two hundred yards, and there’s a dome of calm over their heads. I can’t see faces, and even separating the shape of one person distinctly from the one next to them is hard, but there are people on the ocean. They’re walking toward us, supported by slabs of sandstone and surrounded by storm.

  Varan’s terrible vengeance is about to reach Ryogo.

  The Itagamin army is almost here. They’re a mile or so off, and they don’t seem to be moving any faster than a slow, steady walk, but they’re here.

  “How long until they make landfall, Tessen?” Ideas are forming in my head, none of them very good, but I need to know how much time we have left.

  Voice hoarse and eyes locked on the incoming enemy, Tessen says, “Half an hour if we’re lucky.”

  It’s enough. But before I order the squad to move, there’s something else. I wind back through the group, taking just one person by the wrist and leaning down to look into her eyes. “Soanashalo’a, you have already done more than I ever expected from someone who isn’t clan, but I need one more favor from you.”

  “Khya…” Her eyes are wide and gleaming with fear.

  “I need you to run now. Go back to the wagons and head north, far north,” I tell her. “Grab anyone you can trust not to betray your hiding place, and go to the caves where we waited out the first bad storms. Go there and stay there.”

  “I cannot leave you to this!”

  “And we need to see what’s happening here, but we can’t afford for the black rock to be destroyed by Varan.” I take her hands and hold them tight. “You’ll be safe there, and you can keep what we need safe. We’ll meet y
ou. I promise.”

  But it’s dark. And without my wards, she won’t be protected from the storm. And there are about to be thousands of enemies marching onto this shore. Sending her back to the wagons alone might be more dangerous than keeping her with us, so I turn to Wehli and order, “Go with her. Carry her, and get her to the wagons as fast as possible.”

  “What?” His eyes go wide as he looks between his missing arm and me. “I can’t! Khya, you know I can’t. And you don’t have to—”

  “Don’t,” I cut him off and stalk closer until only inches separate us. “You’ve already proven us wrong more than once. Do it again. It matters more than ever now. I’m not sending you away to protect you, I’m sending you on a mission to make sure we have even a tiny chance of winning this. It won’t happen without those stones, and her people need all the extra protection we can give them if they’re going to guard those rocks.”

  Wehli bites his lip, his gaze drifting toward Miari and Nairo before snapping back to me. My first thought had been to just send him, but maybe I should let the three of them go together. They’ll be able to watch each other’s backs, and it won’t leave Wehli alone in a sea of people who are still nearly strangers.

  “Do you two want to follow him there?” I look at Miari and Nairo, asking them the question I’m almost positive they won’t ask me no matter how badly they want to go with their partner; choosing the group instead of the individual is too ingrained in everyone who grew up in Itagami. “I’m ordering him to go as fast as he’s capable of while carrying someone, so he’d better not wait for you, but the caravan could use the extra protection.”

  They look at each other, and then both turn toward Wehli. All three are the same age, and they came up in the same training class. They’ve been together since they were children, since before they were together.

  “You’ll follow us there soon?” Nairo glances at me, determination in his eyes. “We’re not leaving you here only to find out you tried to take on the entire Itagamin army without us.”

  “I’m not losing any more friends. We’ll find you,” I promise. “It might take us a little while to catch up, but don’t wait. Push north as fast as you can.”

  “You can probably even use the roads in a few days.” Tessen speaks quietly, and his attention is still on the sea. “The Ryogans will have something more worrying to watch for than a caravan of hanaeuu we’la maninaio.”

  Soanashalo’a stares at me for a long moment before she pulls me into a tight hug. “Khya, please be careful. There are so many people who need you. Come find us and we will help you fight this, but you must not be rash now. Do not stay here long enough to be caught.”

  “I won’t.” I hug her back, running my hand over her hair and kissing her cheek, keeping myself from adding, not if I can help it.

  She squeezes me a little tighter, as if she can hear the words I didn’t say, and then she whispers several landmarks in my ear, some I recognize from our first journey to the cave in the Mysora Mountains. I repeat them, committing the list to memory and hoping I get the chance to use it.

  The goodbyes are brief, and then Wehli, with Soanashalo’a clinging to his back, runs off far faster than we made it here. His two partners follow slower, but soon they’re out of sight too, around the curve of the outcropping and gone. Hopefully toward safety.

  “Orders, Nyshin-ma?” Etaro asks as soon as they’re gone.

  “Don’t call me that. That’s my first order.” I move closer to the water, sweeping my hand toward the sea. “The nyshins are the ones doing this.”

  “They don’t know what’s happening,” Etaro says.

  “That won’t matter to Rido’iti.” Tessen shakes his head and then looks at me. “What are your orders, Khya?”

  “We need to see what happens,” I say after a long breath. “This town isn’t ready. It isn’t a match for them, and there’s no chance these people will fight. We need to see what Varan orders.”

  “And how far his army is willing to go to obey,” Zonna adds.

  “Exactly.” Once my clan sees that Ryogo isn’t what they thought, that there are people here with lives and homes and families, will they follow their Miriseh with the same unquestioning loyalty? What would I have done if I hadn’t uncovered their lies? I think I would have unquestioningly followed almost every order.

  My stomach twists at the realization.

  The view of Rido’iti is awful from here. Only the very edges of the city. There’s a rise, though, about a half mile into the forest. It’s hard to be sure from here, but it looks like it’d have a perfect vantage point.

  To watch a city burn.

  “Can’t we help them?” Etaro stands with Rai, all three of them look east toward the city. “There has to be some way to stop this. Can’t we save them?”

  “We don’t—” I clamp my mouth shut and close my eyes. “How? The Imaku stone is back with the wagons and there are seven of us. Seven. Against that.” I throw my arm out, eyes going wide as I glare at Etaro. “If you have a plan, great. Tell me. I’m listening. But right now, all we have is a chance to see exactly what they’re planning and maybe save ourselves.”

  Tessen nods slowly, his eyes toward Rido’iti. “Either we die trying to save this city, or we get out of here alive and get a chance to fight back on a day when we might win.”

  “Exactly. So everyone shut their mouths and climb.”

  I follow my own order, clawing my way up the slope that’s half mud and half rock. It’s steep and wet and cold and my fingers would be numb if not for the extra energy of the susuji. The others likely aren’t as lucky. They’ve had practice recently, though, and this climb is easier and shorter than the last one we had to do. It can’t take us more than ten minutes to reach the top of the rise and another five to race toward a section where trees will allow us to watch without being seen.

  By the time I’m hidden near the spot with the best view of Rido’iti, the army is close enough I swear I can see faces. People I once called friends. Family. Clan. They look wet and weary, more than one leaning on the shoulder of their neighbor. The group glistens with the silver of polished, honed iron, though, their blades flashing like stars in the continuous lightning.

  “Whatever happens, stay here,” I force myself to say, making sure the words are loud but not bothering to smother the quaver in my voice. “Do not move. Do not use the desosa. Do not do a single thing that will draw attention to where we are. We watch, we learn, we use it to prepare. That’s it.”

  That’s what I say to them, but what it all means is this:

  Do not save anyone but ourselves.

  I hate myself for the order. I hate Varan for putting me in this position. If this is what leadership means, standing aside and doing nothing, I don’t want it.

  But I have it, and I need everyone else to understand why I’m ordering this. “We were too late to stop this from reaching Ryogo, but the only way we fail completely is to die here and leave this place in Varan’s hands. When it gets too hard to watch, remind yourself of the cities we saw in the north, and imagine what will happen to those places if we don’t figure out how to stop this invasion before it gets there.”

  If that’s even possible. If it’s not already too late.

  No one responds, but after Sanii climbs up to sit on a low branch of one of the trees, no one moves, either. I barely breathe, my eyes locked on the incoming army.

  “The incoming army,” as though I don’t know exactly where they’re from. As though I couldn’t name so many of the soldiers and recite a list of their strongest skills. As though I’m truly not one of them anymore.

  Maybe we’re not. Maybe, after all that’s happened, we don’t belong anywhere.

  The southernmost streets of Rido’iti are filling with people. Running. Screaming. Children clutched in the arms of their elders. Bags so hastily packed they leave a trail behind the runner.

  The first line of Varan’s army steps onto Ryogo.

  Dozens of ka
saiji mages throw huge balls of fire, the impacts igniting the buildings closest to the water. People fleeing their homes are cut down by the blades of the invaders. Ryogans burst out of fire-engulfed buildings, their clothes burning so hot and fast not even the pounding rain is enough to put them out. Ratoiji mages direct the constant lightning from the storm, using it to scorch streets and crush stampedes of terrified people. Entire blocks of the city crumble and disappear when the ground gives way underneath them.

  Street by street it progresses as each row of soldiers enters Ryogo. The fires are spreading. The lightning strikes become more frequent.

  I glance at the others, though I’m not sure what I expect to see in their faces. Tessen is standing close, but his gaze is jumping across the landscape, each new sight making him flinch. Sanii, Natani, and Zonna look as lost as I feel. Etaro and Rai are standing together, her arms wrapped around eir waist. When Rai looks away from the city, her gaze catches mine, and I can’t answer any of the questions in her eyes.

  The army is circling Rido’iti, and I don’t have to watch to know what’s going to happen, how the lines of nyshin soldiers will press forward until everything between them is crushed into blood and dust. But I do anyway.

  In a spot of motionless calm in the middle of bloody chaos, are the bobasu. The Miriseh. All ten of them stand in a group, watching their war, doing nothing to pull their nyshin back even though it’s clear no one is standing against them.

  This is a slaughter.

  Please, I beg, desperately praying to the Kaisubeh as I reach for Tessen’s hand and grip hard. You helped us once, please do it again. I’m willing to fight this war for you, but I can’t win against this. Not without help. Please. Please help us. Help me.

  The Ryogans’ gods are real, I have proof of that much, but are they listening? They’d better be, because their people need them. An entire land of people who believe in the power and the grace of the Kaisubeh will die, crushed in the path of an unstoppable force, because all I have is seven warrior-mages, three immortals, a family of hanaeuu we’la maninaio, an orphaned Ryogan ebet, and a box of desosa-charged rocks.