by Tara West
Alec rowed until his muscles cramped and he nearly passed out from exhaustion. A trio of guards finally unlatched his shackles and dragged him to a dank cell in the bowels of the ship. He fell face-first onto a straw pallet, too tired to roll away when someone kicked him in the ribs. He was only barely aware of a rodent squeaking beneath the straw and the shuffling of feet in the cell. He winced when someone flipped him on his back, sitting him up and forcing him to gulp down several ladles of water. Then someone pressed something hard and crumbly into his hand.
“Eat,” a familiar voice whispered in his ear, “or you will not survive the next rotation.”
His eyes flew open. In the flickering gaze of the low lamplight, he could just make out the hard angles of Ryne’s face.
Alec looked down at the piece of bread he clutched, then shoveled it into his mouth, ignoring the throbbing from his injured nose. He barely had the strength to chew, but he managed to swallow the stale crumbs. Then he nearly coughed them back up, hacking into his fist until his lungs burned. A rattle coursed through his chest, one he hadn’t felt since before Dianna healed him. He touched his forehead, hoping his damp skin was due to exertion and not fever. Eris’s soldiers would throw him overboard rather than risk him infecting the whole crew.
Ryne scooped water out of a bucket and forced Alec to take several more gulps. Though the water was stale, it was cool enough to soothe his parched throat. After Alec’s coughing subsided, Ryne found a spot in the corner to eat by himself. Filip sat in another corner, curled into himself, mumbling and crying. Alec squinted at several shadowy figures in a cage across from them. Most appeared to be sleeping, but one he knew to be his rowing partner, for the man’s ghost child hovered nearby, softly sobbing while her father silently chewed his bread. The other figure looked like a lump and was so still, Alec thought it perhaps a mound of hay. When the lump moved and a bushy gray beard appeared, picking up stray strands of straw, Alec swallowed a curse. Though he was happy to see Grim alive, he’d hoped the dwarf had escaped. Then again, he couldn’t imagine Gorpat’s doting father abandoning his child.
Alec hung his head. This was all his fault. If only he hadn’t chased after Ryne. At the sound of approaching footsteps, he looked up, peering -between his fingers. He didn’t recognize this soldier, but his face would be hard to forget. He had the beady eyes and wide nostrils of a boar, and his thick hair was pulled back in two matted braids. When the pig-faced soldier deposited a pile of sacks outside his cage, Alec thought he recognized his pack. The soldier plucked the string on Alec’s bow before slinging it over his shoulder. White-hot rage shot through him. Markus had carved that bow for him, and now it was lost.
Grim pressed his face against the cell door, his bulbous nose and round cheeks molding around the bars like clay. “What have you done with my pearl?” he cried. “If you’ve harmed one hair on her pretty head, you will know the might of a father’s wrath.”
“Relax, pop.” The soldier tossed a thick braid over his shoulder, puffing up his burly chest. “Your pearl is safe for now.” His lips pulled back in a wicked smile, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth. “Unless my goddess decides to use her for carnivus bait.”
“Why you cowardly slog!” Grim kicked up straw and rattled the bars of his cage. “Open up and say that to my face!”
The soldier wagged a finger, clucking his tongue. “Do you take me for a fool? I’ve heard tale of a dwarf’s strength.”
He went through another sack, his eyes widening when he pulled out a pie.
“Hey!” Grim hollered.
The soldier ignored Grim’s protests and shoved the whole pie in his mouth, making grunting, slobbery sounds while he chewed. Alec wonder if he was indeed part pig. The soldier cast the dwarf a smug look before climbing the ladder.
After their captor’s boots disappeared above deck, he breathed a sigh of relief. But when that sigh turned into another coughing fit, Alec feared he wouldn’t survive another day on Eris’s ship.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Alec glared at Ryne, whose blue skin was ashen beneath the waning glow of the lamplight. Alec suspected he wasn’t fine, but he refused to heap any more misery on his friends’ backs. This was Alec’s problem.
Ryne twirled a bent piece of straw between his fingers, so transfixed with its movement, ’twas as if he was staring into the swirling mists. “You shouldn’t have come for me.” Alec couldn’t help but gape at Ryne. “What was I to do?” he snapped. “Ignore your hound’s cry for help?”
“Yes.”
Alec wished he had the strength to march up to Ryne and pummel him. “It’s a little too late for that now.”
“Well, I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this.” Ryne hung his head.
Alec had no response to Ryne’s apology, especially as Ryne had much more to be sorry for. For one, his brootish behavior toward the dwarves.
“Aye, you should be sorry,” Grim said from the neighboring cage, “and to more than just him. My baby girl is going to be carnivus bait, thanks to you.”
Ryne’s head snapped up. “No, thanks to your thieving, slog-faced cousin.” He leaned against a bale of straw, narrowing his eyes in Grim’s direction. “The only reason we took the wrong path was because he stole our damn stone.”
“Slog-faced! Thieving!” Even in the dim light, Alec could see the dwarf’s nose and cheeks turn as red as overripe apples. “If I wasn’t locked up, I’d throw your worthless blue hide overboard.”
Ryne tossed back his head and laughed. “I’d like to see you try it, you stubby little slog.”
Alec tensed at the shuffling of boots overhead. “Quiet,” he hissed. “Someone’s coming.” He didn’t know whether to be worried or relieved as the boar-faced soldier came back down the ladder, followed by Serpentine Voice.
The latter pushed Boar Face out of the way, yanking a sack from his hands. “Where’d you get the bloody pie?”
“I told you already, it was in one of these sacks.” Boar Face kicked a sack, then let out an inhuman squeal, hopping around on one foot. He snatched up the sack and turned it upside-down, his brow furrowing as a stone rolled out.
Alec gasped, Ryne cursed, and Filip looked sheepishly at the stone as it rolled up against the bars of their cage.
The goddess stone!
Boar Face picked up the stone with a sneer. “Who carries a rock in their pack?”
Alec recognized the white leather pack the soldier held as belonging to one of the ice dwellers.
When nobody answered, Alec spoke up. “I do,” he lied. “I’m a rock collector.” He couldn’t let Eris’s soldiers know what it was, for he feared the outcome such a powerful stone would have in the hands of an evil goddess.
Boar Face scowled at him, his beady eyes crossing. “Is your brain made of seaweed?”
Alec didn’t know which was worse, the soldier keeping the stone or deciding it had no value and throwing it overboard. He shrugged, feigning indifference, though his heart thudded when Serpentine Voice bent over the stone and picked it up. “I simply like smooth stones. That one is especially interesting, as I found it in a pile of troll poo.”
The soldier grimaced, dropping the rock as if it was a scalding lump of coal. He kicked it across the floor, and it rolled into a dank and dark corner. Alec prayed the rats wouldn’t scurry away with it.
After the soldiers ransacked everyone’s packs, taking their food and weapons, they headed back up the ladder.
“Get some sleep,” their foggy-eyed captor called over his shoulder. “You will be rowing again in a few hours.”
After the muffled sound of their retreating boots died, Ryne raced over to Filip, repeatedly kicking him in the ribs.
Filip curled into a ball, crying out. “Stop! Please!”
“Why?” Ryne hollered between grunts. “Why?!” He kicked Filip again.
Filip rolled away. “Stop!” He shielded his face with his hands. “Or I’ll scream for the guards.”
Ryne lowered his leg, panting
like a wounded animal. “Explain yourself,” he said between gritted teeth.
“I had more right to it than Ven.” Filip wiped his tear-stained face while cradling his stomach. “That stone should have been passed to my grandfather, the eldest son, not Ven’s grandmother, who was my grandfather’s youngest sister.”
Ryne threw up his hands. “So you thought you had right to steal the stone because of a quarrel that happened three generations ago?”
“I was not stealing it.” Filip sniffled, smearing a trail of snot across his dirty sleeve. “I was returning it to its rightful heir.”
Ryne’s face hardened. “Then why not tell us? Why let us think the dwarves stole it?”
Filip turned his gaze down to the straw beneath his bare feet. “Because I knew you wouldn’t let me keep it.”
“You gnull’s hairy ass! Because of your greed, Ven and Luc are dead, and we’ll be joining them soon.” Ryne kicked Filip several times in rapid succession.
Filip curled into himself, whimpering but otherwise making no attempt to fight back.
When Alec thought he heard the crack of bone, he stumbled to a standing position. “Enough!” he growled. “Before Eris’s soldiers throw you both overboard.” Though he was also furious with Filip, an ice dweller with broken bones would do them no good. If they were to have any chance at escape, they’d need help from every able body.
Ryne stalked to the opposite corner of his cell, while his bloodied companion cried softly.
Alec glowered at Ryne, waiting for him to say something—anything.
Ryne looked at Alec through hooded eyes. “Why do you stare at me like that, land dweller?”
Alec nodded toward the dwarf in the other cage. “You owe Grim an apology.”
“Gnull bollocks,” Ryne answered, turning from them both.
Alec didn’t know if he was angrier with Filip the thief or Ryne the fool. “You accused his family of stealing, and now they are prisoners, thanks to you.”
“I didn’t ask them to come for me,” Ryne grumbled.
Alec arched a brow, rage threatening to boil over like a bubbling cauldron. “That is your response?”
“You heard the guard. We only have a few hours to rest.” Ryne fluffed the hay beneath his head like a pillow before rolling onto his back and closing his eyes.
“You hard-faced son of a siren.” Alec was having trouble breathing, much less talking. He coughed into his fist, summoning the strength to force out the words. “I’d like to apologize on behalf of this stubborn broot.”
Ryne’s chest rose and fell as if he was asleep. Though they were all sore and exhausted, surely Ryne hadn’t fallen asleep that quickly.
Grim leaned into his bars with a sigh. “You don’t need to, son.”
“I do.” Alec swallowed his tears. “If I hadn’t been stupid enough to think his life mattered, we’d be on our way to Aya-Shay. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too, son. I should’ve never let you go after this underserving slog. Lesson learned.” Grim cleared his throat. “When the moment presents itself when we can escape, I will not risk our lives for him again.”
“There is no escaping from the sea witch.” The ghost’s hollow words eerily echoed through the hull, as if she was speaking in a dream.
Grim frowned at the spirit. “We shall see about that.”
The spirit disappeared like fading smoke, then reappeared again. “Even if you do escape her, there are still her dragon, sirens, pixies, and carnivus plants. Believe me, my father and I would have retrieved my body long ago if we didn’t fear they’d sink our boat.”
Alec couldn’t help but gape at the girl. “Retrieve your body?”
“Eris keeps my body prisoner on her volcanic island.” The the glow around her faded and reappeared like a flickering candle. “She took it when I was a tot, forcing my spirit to wander the earth.”
Alec scratched his head. Was this ghost dead or not? “I don’t understand.”
The girl’s father cleared his throat, piercing Alec with dark, haunted eyes. “As punishment for killing one of her broot whales, she took my daughter’s body and discarded her spirit as a reminder to other hunters.”
The room went eerily quiet, except for the occasional scurrying of the rats and the sound of splashing waves outside. Alec had heard tales of Eris’s cruelty, but stealing the body of a babe and forcing her spirit to wander the earth in a state between life and death was harsher than even he could have imagined.
Alec finally spoke up, wishing to clear the air of the awkward silence. “My brother was cursed by Madhea for hunting.”
The girl floated over to Alec. “I’m so sorry. What happened to him?”
Alec tried not to be unnerved by the ghoulish figure staring down at him and forced himself to meet her eyes. She was uncommonly pretty, with tapered eyes that gleamed like golden jewels, a pert nose, and long, black hair. Had she been flesh and blood, she’d have many suitors.
“My brother broke the curse,” he answered.
The spirit gasped, her glow pulsing brighter. “How?” she begged, floating closer, the desperation in her golden eyes nearly enough to break his heart.
A thought occurred to him. “Tell me something, spirit. Are you able to pick up objects?”
She jerked back. “My name is not Spirit.”
“Forgive me.” With the exception of his mother and sister, he’d never learned how to talk to females. “It’s been a trying day. What is your name?”
She floated so close he could feel a strange energy from her aura. Gooseflesh rose on his neck and arms. ’Twas the same feeling he’d gotten many times when he thought his father’s ghost was near.
“My name is Mari. My father is Khashka.” She indicated the bald old man in the other cage. “And no, I’m not able to pick up objects.” She stomped the air like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum. “Are you going to tell me how your brother broke the curse?”
“’Tis a long story.” Alec glanced at the corner where the rock had rolled. “But he had help from a stone much like that one.”
When Mari turned toward it, it began to glow a soft white, like a wick had been lit from within.
Khashka clutched the bars of his cage. “How does it do that?”
“Magic,” Ryne answered.
Alec glared at Ryne, who’d obviously been pretending to be asleep. The blue broot sat up and glared at him.
“It talks.” Mari’s voice sounded as if her words had been carried away by the wind.
“No, it does not talk,” Ryne grumbled, irritated.
Alec wished Ryne would go back to sleep and spare them all his dark mood. “It talked to my sister, Dianna.”
Ryne shook his head, snickering. “But she is a powerful witch. That is why she can hear its voice.”
Alec held out a silencing hand when Mari floated over to the stone, her gaze transfixed on the pulsing glow, pulled to it as if by some unseen force.
“What does it say, daughter?” Khashka asked.
“It’s a woman. She is asking me to pick her up.”
Khashka let go of his bars. “Tell her you can’t.”
Mari looked at Alec, her lower lip trembling. “She is saying I can.”
“Try it, Mari,” Alec encouraged. “Try picking up the stone.” He’d already seen one stone wield powerful magic, saving both his and Markus’s lives. Could this stone help them escape?
The prisoners collectively gasped when the spirit lifted the stone with ease, holding the glowing orb in both hands.
“Oh, heavenly Elements!” Her eyes widened as she stared at her treasure. “I haven’t held anything in a very long while.”
Khashka rattled the bars. “Is she still talking to you?”
Mari nodded. “Her name is Aletha. She says she is the daughter of the fallen goddess Kyan.”
Khashka’s mouth fell open. “Child, you are holding a goddess stone in your hands.”
“A goddess stone?” Grim clutched his bars while g
aping at Mari, then at Khashka. “I thought those were only fable.”
Khashka laughed. “Apparently not.”
Mari floated toward Alec’s cage, cradling the stone as if she held a newborn babe. “She wants me to press the stone against the bars.”
Alec didn’t know where he found the strength, but he got to his feet, scrambling toward her. “Do it, Mari.”
When she pressed the stone against the bars, the metal melted like hot wax. Khashka scurried away from his cell door, waking the sleeping prisoners.
“Now ours, Mari,” Khashka called. “Hurry, before the guards return.”
Once the bars on both cages were melted, prisoners rushed toward their packs, removing blades from hidden compartments.
Ryne broke off a piece of partially melted metal from his door, slapping his hand with the long rod. “Can you melt off more bars, Mari?”
She broke apart several rods, and the prisoners gladly took their makeshift weapons.
Alec clutched a thick bar like a lifeline. ’Twas no bow and arrow, but it would do. “Now what?” he asked Grim.
The dwarf pulled a heavy hammer from his sack with a sinister gleam in his eyes and swung it over his head. “Now we fight.”
Chapter Eleven
Dianna held tight to Lydra, relishing the feel of wind whipping through her hair. They followed Tan’yi’na across the sand. He flew low, the canopy of clouds overhead obscuring his golden hues, making him look like a shadow skimming across the ground.
Her limbs froze when they approached a crater in the earth. It appeared as if a giant arrow had punctured the sand, leaving a deep, gaping hole in its wake.
“No girl!” Dianna screamed, pulling back on Lydra when Tan’yi’na disappeared down the hole.
Her warning came too late. Lydra tucked her wings against her sides and dove after the other dragon.
She squinted against the onslaught of cool wind that rushed around her. They were falling down a black hole, descending into a pit which she feared was a trap set by Tan’yi’na.
“Oh, heavenly Elements!” she cried, struggling to catch her breath. “Lydra, where are you going?”
