by Tara West
The magic in Dianna’s hands became so heavy, it was as if she carried crackling leaden balls. She stepped out from behind Tan’yi’na. “No one else shall die by your hand, Zephyra.”
The other mages screamed and ducked beneath the table. Zephyra straightened, her smile menacing. “You were no match against me before, and you are certainly no match now that I have the goddess stone.”
Glowing balls of magic appeared in Dianna’s hands as she pointed them at Zephyra. “Have you forgotten I am the daughter of a goddess, and there is more than one stone?”
The High Mage let out a bird-like screech and shot an magic arrow at Dianna.
She shattered the arrow and effortlessly threw a bolt at Zephyra. The witch ducked, tumbling behind the debris. The bolt flew past her and sliced the table in two. Mages scattered, though there was no other escape from the shallow cavern than past the dragons. The first mage that tried to run under Lydra’s legs was met with the dragon’s icy breath. Her terrified face froze in time in Lydra’s impenetrable layers of ice. The next mage tried to run past Tan’yi’na and was burned to a pile of ash. The dragon’s smoky breath filled up the small chamber, smoking out the rest of the mages, where they also met swift ends by ice and fire.
Tan’yi’na’s laughter filled the smoky air. Stoke a dragon’s fury, and his flame burns hotter.
Zephyra crawled out of the rubble, coughing and waving her hands in surrender. “Please,” she begged. “You would leave my children motherless?”
More magic raced into Dianna’s fingers. “What kind of a mother abandons her child, forcing her into slavery?”
“She’s a mortal. It’s the law.”
Dianna stalked toward the mage, pointing an accusatory finger. “You create the laws. You subjugate your people.”
“What would you have me do?” She crouched on all fours, snarling like a rabid animal. “The mortals outnumber the witches ten to one.”
She wrapped magic around her feet, propelling herself up the mound of debris until she was staring down at the witch. “You could have ruled them with kindness and compassion, as Kyan had done.”
Careful, Neriphene warned. I see desperation in her eyes.
“Kindness got her killed,” Zephyra snarled before jumping up and grabbing Dianna’s shoulders, wrapping her in a flaming ball of magic.
Dianna flung off the fire, sending Zephyra flying onto the cracked table with a crunch. “Cruelty gets you killed, too.”
“Nooo!” Sprout screamed at Dianna. “Please don’t kill her.”
She caught the sobbing child in her arms. “Sh,” she soothed, stroking the child’s hair. ’Twas at that moment she knew Zephyra had won, for she didn’t have the heart to kill Sprout’s mother.
She released the little witch and glared at Zephyra, lying motionless in a pile of splintered wood. She unspooled a magic tendril from her fingers and sent it after the pouch around the mage’s neck, slipping it off her head and pulling it back.
Dianna slipped it around her neck. “Sindri.”
I’m not speaking to you, the stone answered.
“Fair enough.” She was just relieved to have the stone back. “Sprout, if you want me to spare her life, she must be tied up.”
Sprout nodded and wrapped her mother in an ivy cocoon. When she finished, she fell to her knees with a sob.
Dianna picked up the child and handed her to Tan’yi’na, who cradled her in his jowls.
Where to now? the golden dragon asked.
“We need to find Simeon and Jae,” she said.
When they emerged from the tunnel, witches and a few mortals came out of hiding, whispering behind their hands.
When Tan’yi’na laid Sprout down, a trio of young women rushed forward.
“She’s our sister,” the shortest of the golden-eyed girls said lifting Sprout into the tallest sister’s arms.
“Take her.” Dianna’s voice shook, along with her hands, as she prepared to deliver the news about their mother. “Sprout has been through a trial and will need rest and comfort. The Seven are no more.” She paused, swallowing hard. “Zephyra has been imprisoned.”
The cavern broke into a cacophony of outbursts. Sprout shifted in her sister’s arms, weeping against her chest.
The shortest girl shared looks with her sisters. “You did not kill our mother?”
Her shoulders fell. Though The Seven had been defeated, there were still thousands of other witches she had to contend with, and no doubt many of them were just as prejudiced as Zephyra. “No.”
The girl glared at Dianna. “You should have.”
That took Dianna by surprise. “The Kyanites will determine her punishment.”
The girls exchanged glowers. “I can assure you,” the tallest girl said, stroking Sprout’s hair, “we will not be as kind toward our mother as you have been.” They simultaneously turned their backs on Dianna. The crowd parted for them, then swallowed them like waves crashing over the sand.
Dianna recognized the guard with the gnarled ear as he bowed before Dianna. “Did you say The Seven are dead?”
“Six of The Seven are dead. The High Mage is imprisoned.”
He fell down on one knee, tears falling on the ground. “Thank you.” His voice cracked, then broke, as he bit his knuckles.
The rest of the crowd, mostly yellow-eyed witches, followed suit, thanking Dianna and falling down on one knee. She heard two thuds behind her. When she turned, Lydra and Tan’yi’na were bent over as well. The golden dragon flashed her a knowing smile and a wink.
Looks like Kyanu has a new deity, Neriphene said with a chuckle.
It took all of her willpower to keep her legs from buckling. Oh, heavenly Elements! What had she done?
* * *
Alec had a dream he was lying in his old bed in his family’s hut. In it, he ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth, wincing at the foul taste of spoiled food. He opened his eyes, expecting to see his mother with her healing herbs, and was surprised to see his bear of a father sitting in a chair beside him, his dark hair falling over sunken eye sockets.
“I’m sorry.” Rowlen frowned at his hands, fisted in his lap. “I was not myself.”
Alec struggled to move, but ’twas as if his arms and legs were bound to the bed. “I know you were cursed.”
Hearing his father’s apology made his throat swell with emotion. For so many years, he’d been beaten and ridiculed. For so many years, he’d loathed this man, finally ending his life with a blade in the back, only to discover his father’s hatred stemmed from a curse put on his heart by Madhea.
He winced when his father reached for him, expecting a blow to the face. Instead, Rowlen placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his dark, haunted eyes shining with sorrow.
“They are trying to wake you.” Rowlen gently shook him. “Be brave. I will be with you.”
He awoke, his hand flying to his shoulder. He tried to recreate the feeling of his father’s touch by squeezing hard, but ’twas not the same. He looked across the log barge to the endless ocean and then to Gorpat. She was in the water behind them, clutching the edge of the barge while she kicked up waves behind her, propelling them forward.
Grim sat by his daughter, giving her words of encouragement. “That’s my pearl. We’ll be back on shore in no time.”
When Mari floated over Alec, he was startled by her presence.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
He sat up on his elbows, amazed that the pain in his ribs and the throbbing heat that had penetrated his skin were gone. “Better.” He heaved a sigh of relief, staring at the stone Mari cradled in her arms. “Thanks.”
She held up the stone, smiling down at it as if ’twas her child. “I healed you with it.”
He let out a slow, steady breath as he let himself get lost in the amber flecks in her eyes. “How can I ever thank you?”
Ryne nudged his side, handing him a round, furry fruit with a cracked top. “Drink this.”
He scooted up,
frowning when he saw Khashka and Eris’s former soldier, Thorne, were sitting in the center of the barge, arguing over the map.
“I didn’t know Thorne survived.” Alec said to Ryne.
“He swam to the barge after you passed out.” Ryne looked at Thorne, shaking his head. “How he dodged the carnivus, I have no idea. The Elements must favor him.”
Grim and Thorne were surrounded by various goods, which had obviously been recovered from the ship. There was a barrel, a fishing net, and swords and clubs.
“Drink,” Ryne reminded him.
He slowly sipped from the fruit, which was mildly sweet. “This is delicious.”
“It’s palma fruit.” Ryne nodded toward a large bushel of pods beside them. “We were able to salvage one from the wreckage.”
Alec greedily drank the rest. “It’s so refreshing.”
Khashka threw down the map and stomped over to them. “Don’t drink it all, boy. We need to ration.” He jerked the empty shell out of Alec’s hands. “We have only one palma pod.” He frowned at the shell, then threw it away.
Thorne stormed after him, waving the map. “We wouldn’t have to ration if you hadn’t taken us this way to begin with! There’s a break in the plants here.” His tanned skin turned a bright fuchsia when he punched the center of the map. “It’s a straight shot to Aloa-Shay.”
Khashka threw up his hands. “Now hear me again, Thorne. Sirens patrol those waters.”
Ryne stood and held out a hand to Thorne. “May I?”
After Thorne handed it over, the blue man examined the parchment for a long moment. “I’d rather take my chances with the sirens than the sea witch.”
Khashka dragged a hand down his face with a low groan. “Have you already forgotten what the sirens did to your blue friends?”
“We don’t have enough supplies to go around Eris’s island,” Thorne argued.
Mari paced, worry in her bright eyes and drawn mouth. “They’ve been fighting ever since you passed out,” she said to Alec.
“Then we resupply on the island,” Khashka answered through a frozen smile.
“Have you lost your mind?” Thorne groaned, the lines around his eyes growing long. ’Twas then Alec realized Thorne had to be nearly as old as Khashka.
Thorne struck his forehead with the heel of his palm, a string of curses pouring from his mouth. “Khashka, will you listen to yourself? This is like the broot hunt all over again.”
Mari stopped pacing, and Alec and Ryne sucked in a collective breath.
Khashka waggled a fist in Thorne’s face. “Take that back.”
“I will not.” Thorne’s voice grew louder as he puffed up like a peacock. “Our kin are dead because of you! I don’t know why we made you our captain after the broots. We should have learned then you’ve not a siren’s sack of sense.”
“Thorne.” Mari waved wildly at the man. “I see something.” She pointed to a bubbling in the distance that reminded Alec of his mother’s boiling cauldron of soup. “Did you not say you were going to fish?”
“I did.” He threw down the map and trudged over to the net, looking up at Khashka with a scowl. “We’ve already had a vote. We go through siren waters.”
Once again, Alec didn’t remember being included, though he did wholeheartedly agree. He’d rather take his chances with sirens than risk Eris chopping off his block or worse.
Whistling sharply, Thorne held out a hand to the giant. “Slow once we reach the boiling.”
Gorpat slowed her kicks, eventually stopping as the barge cruised right next to the boil.
Thorne adroitly tossed the net into the water, then hauled in dozens of flopping colorful fish.
“Good work, man!” Grim said, racing to Thorne’s side and helping him pull his catch onto the barge.
Thorne flashed a mouthful of rotting teeth. “He who casts the net never eats spoiled meat.”
They dragged the net to the center of the barge and tossed fish into the barrel. Thorne laid a piece of driftwood across the top of it. Grim stood on a crate and hacked off heads and tails, throwing them into a bucket. “Waste nothing,” he said to the others. “My pearl will eat the bones and skin.”
“Yum, Dada!” she squealed, licking her lips.
Alec felt sorry for the giant, knowing a few remnants were not enough to sustain her.
Ryne pulled out a boning knife and helped Thorne filet each fish, tossing the bones and skin in Grim’s bucket and the meat in a basket. Though Ryne and Grim didn’t make eye contact with each other, Alec knew it was a good sign that Ryne was helping to feed Gorpat. He hoped the ice dweller would put pride aside and apologize to Grim, as well as thanking the giant for saving his life.
Khashka picked up the map and went to a corner, turning his back on the rest of the party.
Alec was left alone with Mari. Though he was healed, he was exhausted, but the awkward silence that hung in the air between them was more than he could bear. “I should go help them.” He struggled to stand.
“No.” Her command shook the air. “The stone says you must rest after a powerful healing.”
He eased back down, realizing he was a lot weaker than he’d thought. “I never got to thank you for saving us.”
“It was not me.” She stroked the stone in the crook of her arms. “It was Aletha, but it feels good to be useful for once.”
It took Alec a moment to remember Aletha was the name of Mari’s goddess stone. He thoughtfully rubbed his chin while Mari flickered in and out of sight like wisps of smoke. She had done so much for him already. How he wished he could help her in return.
His sweet sister came to mind. She had healed Alec’s infirmity, and she also possessed a goddess stone. Mayhap she knew of a way to help Mari. “My sister is a powerful witch. When we meet with her in the spring, perhaps she will know of a way for you to recover your body.”
“Not unless she’s powerful enough to take on a goddess.”
Though Dianna was a talented witch, Alec doubted she was strong enough to defeat a goddess, and he did not wish her to, not even for Mari.
He pointed to the stone. “Hasn’t it given you any ideas?”
“I haven’t asked her.”
“Mayhap you should.”
“I will try,” she mumbled, stroking the rock as if ’twas a living, breathing thing. “’Tis lonely as a spirit.”
Alec’s heart clenched. He couldn’t imagine the aching sense of longing for just one touch, one hug. Before his mother died, she’d coddled him like a baby, which had angered his father even more. Though Alec knew her coddling was mostly to compensate for Rowlen’s cruelty, there were days when he’d needed his mother’s affection. Mari could probably use a gentle kiss and a warm hug, but she’d never get those things as long as Eris had her body.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to say.
Her spirit faded out for a long moment before materializing again. “Not your fault.”
He wondered where she went when he couldn’t see her. Did she cross over to the afterlife? “Can you see other spirits?” he blurted, then regretted his question. What if she saw his father? Did he want to know if Rowlen was near? But there were times, not just in his dreams, when he thought he felt his father’s presence.
“I’m caught in the veil between both worlds, so yes.” She tilted her head, a dark curtain of hair falling over one shoulder. “Why do you ask?”
He looked at the endless sea of waves and the wispy midday clouds. “’Tis nothing.”
“Does it have something to do with that large ghost who follows you?”
He froze, unable to speak for a moment. “A-A large ghost?”
“A big, burly man with dark features.”
What little moisture was left in his mouth dried up as if he’d swallowed a mouthful of clay. “And—and he follows me?”
“Everywhere.”
He stiffened, looking around as if Rowlen might be sitting beside him. “Is he here now?”
She
pointed to an empty space beside him. “Yes.”
He could scarcely believe her words, yet there was no guile in her eyes, and she’d described his father perfectly. “Can he tell you what he wants?”
“They don’t usually talk to me. Like I said, I’m lonely.”
His shoulders fell. “Oh.”
“But I imagine he’s protecting you. He was by your side through the battles with Eris’s soldiers and the carnivus.”
Alec’s world threatened to spin out of control. “He was?” He thought back to the time when the ship tipped right as that soldier was about to gut him. And how had he managed to escape the hungry carnivus when so many others had been eaten?
Could Rowlen have been protecting him? He had to have known ’twas Alec who’d struck him in the back, even though he’d only done it to stop Rowlen from killing Markus. If Rowlen protected him now, did that mean he’d forgiven Alec for taking his life?
“Are you okay?”
It wasn’t until he looked at Mari that he realized he’d been crying. “I’m fine.” He wiped his eyes. “It’s just, that ghost is my father.”
“Oh!” Mari’s hand flew to her mouth. “I’m sorry he’s dead. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost my Papa.” She glanced at Khashka, who was still brooding in a corner.
“It hasn’t been easy,” he admitted.
She clutched the stone, smiling affectionately as she floated down to eye level with Alec, the rest of her disappearing under the barge’s logs. “You have a kind father.”
“I do?” he asked. He released a shaky breath, opening hands he hadn’t realized were clenched. “He was unkind once, but ’twas a curse that made him so. I know it wasn’t his fault.”
She leaned into him. “Your guardian is smiling.”
“He is?” Emotion flooded his chest.
She nodded. “It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile.”
“Thank you, Mari.” A weight lifted from his chest, and for the first time in a long while, he filled his lungs fully. ’Twas then he realized how much the guilt of his father’s death had weighed on his soul. “If I could hug you, I would.”
