I just couldn’t remember how.
The air moved. Twisting to avoid the blow, I shouted, frustrated, “Goddamn it! Eldring don’t use weapons!”
Instantly, my opponent stilled. Cocking his oddly shaped head impossibly far, a series of punctuated rumbles sprung from his mouth. After a short pause, more, similar, rumblings issued. The pattern repeated twice more.
It seemed almost like language.
“Was that…? No,” I shook my head. “You can’t be that smart.”
The eldring growled and waved the mace at me.
“Someone’s been dressing you up, though. Trying to tame you.” I looked then, straight into the beast’s fiery-orange eyes. They were fearsome. Discerning. And a little bit sad. “You don’t like it, do you? Being forced to fight? Being used?”
He let a low trill escape; a soft, mournful sound.
“I know what it’s like. To be made to do things. To have no control.”
The same, somber sound came again.
“This wasn’t your idea. I get that. But you came on this ship uninvited. You murdered these men, probably a lot more. I can’t let you leave here to do it again.”
The creature angled his head one way, then the other.
“But there might be a way out. If you can understand me, drop your weapon.”
For a breath or two, nothing happened. Then the eldring uncurled his clawed fingers. One by one, they loosened on the shaft. As the mace fell and clattered to the floor, I stared at in shock. I went to kick it out of the way and made abrupt contact with a swinging hairy arm. The next thing I knew, I was halfway across the hold with blood in my mouth and snarling, foaming jaws looming above me.
A voice was shouting. It sounded miles away.
Groaning, I turned my head to see Krillos in a full run, hurling his sword through the air. Sparks flew as the weapon skidded across the metal plate on the eldring’s back. Then blood, as the blade continued off the side of the vest to clip a measure of hide.
Straightaway, the eldring bounded off me and went for Krillos. I picked myself up and went for the mace. Scrambling over, I retrieved the weapon as the beast sprang at Krillos. He tackled him to the floor. I only had seconds to make a difference.
Taking a running leap, I jumped onto the eldring’s bowed back. Wrapping my legs around his waist and an arm around his sinewy neck, I started in on the lacings of the vest; ripping and shredding the cords with the spikey mace. As one side of the plates came apart, I tore off the back of the vest. I set to hacking at the exposed pelt then, and the eldring went wild. Straining to reach me, jostling and tossing me with jaws snapping, his frantic claws raked at my arms and legs. Feeling little of it, I held on tighter. I knew if I could last, I could kill it. I’d done it before. I’d stood in a field full of hungry eldring and survived. I remembered now; the fangs and the claws; the blood pouring out of me. I remembered Jarryd Kane coming back for me, even after I told him not to.
Jarryd?
The name reverberated through me like a blow to the stomach.
Another one came: Nef’taali. And the sound of it in my mind provoked a rush of anxiety and emptiness so great it took my breath away. I knew who was missing.
Malaq said the eldring attacked. He said Jarryd was captured in Kabri.
No, that’s not right. My certainty waned as I thought back to our conversation in the ship’s cabin. Malaq didn’t mention anyone by that name.
But he must have.
Something touched my arm. Crying out, I spun around swinging—and drew back inches before my weapon met Kit’s body. Scrambling back, cowering, she looked me up and down with wide, frantic eyes. Fear was all over the girl. But it wasn’t the eldring Kit was afraid of. It was me.
I unclenched my trembling hand and let go of the mace. Pulse pounding, muscles shaking, lungs burning; I slid off the lifeless creature and collapsed onto the floor. A heavy glaze of blood and other, warm fluids pressed my clothes to my skin. Fur and meat dotted my hair. More hit me as I kicked at the carcass, moving it off Krillos.
As the weight lifted, he let out a rattling groan. “Nicely done, Shinree.”
“Thanks.” Spying a shirt amid the smashed crates, I yanked the garment closer and pressed it against the four gashes running diagonally across his torso. Blood soaked the fabric in an instant. “Are there are more on the ship?”
“Only the one.”
“Was it looking for me?”
Krillos attempted a smile. “Everything isn’t about you.” He coughed; spraying red. “See what I mean?”
I grabbed his hand and made him hold the shirt in place. “Stay put.” Wiping a wrist across my face to clear the gore, I stood and went to Kit. Sitting on the edge of the bed, hands clasped tightly in her lap, the far away, dull expression on her face wasn’t promising. “Kit?” Getting no response, I fastened a firm grip on her arm and yanked her up. “Pull it together, girl. You have a patient that needs healing.”
Her gaze drifted. “It was so…”
“I know. But it’s dead now.”
“I’ve heard…but I’ve never seen...”
“Hey!” Her panicked eyes shot to mine. “Do you have stones with you?”
Nodding, Kit fumbled with a small cloth pouch hanging off her belt. “But there isn’t time. He’s lost too much blood already, and…I’m not my father.”
I put my hands on her quaking shoulders. “I’ve been gone from the world for two years, Kit. Two years, and everything has changed. The lines are so blurred now. I don’t even know who my enemies are. But one thing I do know is, that man,” I pointed back at Krillos, “that stupid, stubborn Langorian man, came down here because of me. He’s dying because of me. And I’m not going to let him. Do you understand? I’m not going to fucking let him.”
Kit’s eyes shifted to Krillos. She winced. “I’m sorry, Ian. I can’t save him.”
“You have to. Because if anyone is going to kill that bastard, it’ll be me.”
“I heard that, Troy,” Krillos cut in. “I’m bleeding to death, not going deaf.”
“You’re not doing either,” I hollered back. “There is a way,” I said to Kit. “The spell isn’t without consequence. But it will work.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’ve used it. I don’t know on who, or why. But I can tell you exactly how it’s done.” Guiding Kit over, I pushed her down on the floor beside Krillos. “The spell forges a temporary bond between the healer and the patient. Through it, you can transfer some of your own energy for his body to heal. It doesn’t matter how good your spells are. You just have to be willing to keep him alive. Magic will take care of the rest.”
Kit looked at Krillos. His skin had lost its color. His eyes were going closed. The claws had snapped off from the sheath attached to his arm and the empty metal casing clanked against the floor as his body shook.
“You can do this,” I told her. “I know you can.”
“All right,” she breathed.
“You’ll need something sharp and small to carve the marks.” I glanced around. Spotting a severed, black tusk on the floor beside the carcass, I picked it up and offered it to her. “I’ll guide you through the whole thing.”
Kit wiped her tears. She took the tusk out of my hand. “Tell me what to do.”
SEVEN
“I’m sorry.” Pulling out of her, I sat back and took a moment to catch my breath. “But Jem says we have a duty to our people. Do you understand?”
She didn’t answer. Her white eyes looked right past me. Badly, I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted to know she recognized the importance of what we were doing. That she didn’t hate me. I didn’t know why that mattered, but it did.
“Once the child is here, everything will be fine.” I got up off the bed and got dressed. “We can’t let our entire race suffer if we can create the power to stop it.”
Faintly, she spoke. “Those are your father’s words, not yours.”
The sound of her caught me off
guard. It took me a minute to respond. “My father—”
“Is lying,” she cut in. “Jem is using you, Ian. I need you to see that.” Her voice shook as she pleaded with me. “Please…you have to see it.”
I didn’t know what to say. I was still gaping at her when the door opened and he walked in. My father’s eyes were stern, as if he’d been listening.
“L’tarian,” he said sharply. “The healer will take Sienn to her room now.”
I wanted to ask for more time, but he wouldn’t give it so I bowed my head and stepped aside for the young girl coming in. She had short, yellow-white hair that bounced as she walked. Her stare, as she skirted around me, was downcast. Even she didn’t want to look at me. No one here does, I thought.
My father beckoned. “Come. Draken has arrived.”
I hesitated. “I don’t like him.”
“That’s understandable. I’m bound to him and most times even I don’t like him. But it’s a shared sentiment, at least. We’ve been jamming our connection so long I can’t recall which of us blocked it first.”
“Bound? Blocked?” I walked over. “I don’t understand.”
“I know, son. And I would explain it if you had a hope of remembering it tomorrow.” With a sigh, he shrugged. “It’s unfortunate how the Kayn’l has made you into such a simpleton.” My father put a hand on my back. He urged me from the room, and the light level decreased dramatically. The torches in the corridor were few and far between, and most were burnt down to nothing.
As our steps echoed on the cracked stones of the hall, I tried to make sense of his strange words. “King Draken doesn’t like you. He knows you too well.”
Jem looked at me sideways. “I suppose that’s true. Sharing souls is a closeness that has no match. Exchanges are made. Insights are given. Each is taken into the core of the other. And perhaps that isn’t some place we were ever meant to be.” Jem shrugged again, as if shedding the dark path his thoughts had taken. “Draken believes my methods too indirect. That all this meandering, as he calls it, will get me nowhere. I can’t fault him for it. A lack of vision is a common trait among Langorians. It’s what makes him incapable of seeing the value of your life.”
“Draken wants to kill me.”
“That’s right. And it’s up to me to protect you. Remember that, L’tarian.” He threw an arm around my shoulder and pulled me in close. “I’m the only thing keeping you safe. That’s why it’s important you do exactly as I say. If you’re uncooperative, I won’t be able to convince him how necessary you are to the future of the Shinree.”
“Draken isn’t Shinree. Maybe he doesn’t care about our future.”
“Draken wouldn’t be sitting on his throne if not for our bond. He is indebted to me far too much to oppose my plans.”
“You mean your plan to free us?”
A far away smile spread across his odd face. “To make us glorious.”
EIGHT
The sun burned warm on my face. A cold spray landed on my hands as I gripped the rail. I licked at the salt on my lips, relishing the taste.
My senses were functioning more often now. Sometimes, I even got them at full strength. They tended to work fine when I moved in a way that painfully emphasized my fight with the eldring.
I could have gone to Kit for relief. My discomfort wasn’t constant, though, and I knew healing Krillos had taken a lot out of her. Instead, I’d begged for supplies from one of the crew and sewed up the claw marks that needed it. The rest I’d left for time to heal. Since then, with nothing to do but wait for my memories to return, I’d spent a good deal of the last five days enjoying the quiet sway of the ship. The weather had been calm. The wide openness that had seemed so forbidding that first night intrigued me now. I found it soothing to sit on deck, breathing in the steadily warming air, listening to the sails flutter and the waves caress the side of the ship. At night, I watched the stars move overhead. Their silent glittering was more relaxing than sleep, which had proved elusive.
I’d abandoned my initial mistrust of the crew. At first, I’d been afraid to let it go. Intuition screamed they were enemies. They were a fierce, heartless bunch that would string me up with the rigging the first chance they had. Trust your instincts, Malaq had said. But these men defied my instincts and challenged my memory. Not only had they shown me no ill will, they possessed a genuine sense of spirit and camaraderie I envied. Watching them work, listening to their songs, was oddly peaceful. Their jokes made me laugh. Still, I kept my amusement to myself and endeavored to stay out of their way. Malaq’s pirates may have accepted my presence, but sometimes they would still get that look. The one that made clear they were waiting for me to do something magical and unpleasant. I was waiting for it, too.
It would happen. I was Shinree. My body would betray me. I just didn’t want it to betray me here. I didn’t want to hurt them. Yet, the reminder that I could was ever present; the inner tremble that came and went, the itch for something just out of reach.
I didn’t like it, yet I knew it could be much worse. I recalled moments of feeling wretched and ill, sometimes for days at a time. I knew magic was a demanding lover swirling her tongue in all the right places; promising to make my body sing with pleasure. It was the whisper in my ear when I was sleeping. The cold hand that lifted the hairs on the back of my neck and said: here I am. But all that was abstract. The cravings, the relief; being magic-blind was a concept. A notion of what I once was. I was in no hurry to make it otherwise.
Boots struck the deck behind me. Glancing back, sun glare blocked out the face of the man they belonged to. With only a single hand swinging at his side though, it limited the possibilities.
“Captain,” I said cordially, as Krillos joined me at the rail. “I’m surprised you’re awake. I thought Kit’s spell would have you out for the week.”
“Nah,” he said. “I’m like a horse. Can’t keep me down for long. Besides,” Krillos threw a quick look back at the helm. “We’d be sunk if I left the wheel to these dogs for a week.”
“Your crew seems capable.”
“Capable isn’t good enough. Not out here.” Raising an arm, his shirt billowed in the wind as he gestured at the wide expanse of water. “Looks like we’re almost out of easy.”
“Easy? Is that what you call the eldring?”
“Hell no. I was talking about the mood of the sea.”
“Oh.” I studied the water, trying to figure out what he meant. “I don’t get it.”
“The passage between the top of Mirra’kelan and the Northern Lands is a tricky one. The wind is unpredictable. Storms blow in without warning. You can’t see the rocks until you’re on top of them. Most would rather take the longer route and go up and around. But I know these waters. I grew up on them. I know the feel of the air, the bends of the clouds.” With a distant smile, Krillos glanced at me. “We got a few days yet. After that, you might not want to eat too much.”
“Figures. I just got my appetite back.”
Krillos laughed, and I had a sudden flash of him standing in the middle of a dusty road. A crowd was gathered around him. He had two hands. One of them held a sword.
One of mine held a loaf of bread.
The image vanished. Unsettled, I grasped for something recent. “How’s Kit?”
He stiffened. “She’s fine.”
“You two still connected?”
“That we are.” Krillos gripped the rail. He was quiet a moment. “I’ve never heard of a healing spell like this before.”
“It’s unconventional. But we didn’t have a lot of options.”
“This is your fault,” he pointed at me. “Don’t think I don’t know that.”
“I suppose it is. But it was either link you to Kit, or put you out of your misery. I can still do that if you want.”
“I have a woman in my head, Troy. I’m in her head,” he said with meaning. “If you’re looking for thanks, I’m not quite there yet.”
“It can’t be all bad. Kit must h
ave a positive influence of some sort. After all,” I gestured at him, “you cut your hair and trimmed your beard.”
“Had to. It would have taken a month to pick out all the dried scraps of that eldring you hacked up on top of me. I’ve only got one hand, you know,” he said, holding up the empty sheath on his wrist.
“Right. About that.” I reached into the pocket of my borrowed coat. “Since your claws got broken in the fight, I thought you could use these.” Pulling out two shiny, black eldring tusks, I held them up for inspection. “I think they’ll fit.”
Krillos yanked them out of my hand. Giving the tusks a long, thorough, once over, his eyes slid to mine. “Polished and sharpened, eh?”
“Not all of us have been lounging around in bed for days.”
Stifling a grin, Krillos leaned back against the rail. “Don’t think this makes up for anything. It’s still your fault I have a woman in my head.”
“The spell is temporary. It should be over soon.”
“Thank the gods for that. With the childhood crush Kit has on you, I have the bizarre urge to bat my eyes and giggle.”
“Please don’t.”
“I’ll try to restrain myself.”
Chuckling to himself, Krillos returned to admiring his tusks. While he beamed at them like they were sacks of gold, I watched the swells gather and break. I breathed the briny air in deep, soaking up as much as I could while I could still smell. I didn’t mind that we’d stopped talking. The captain’s silent companionship was strangely comfortable.
Because he expects nothing from me, I realized. Unlike Malaq.
Also, unlike Malaq, Krillos was an open book. And our history was short. He had no cause to deflect my questions out of some prior friendship, or whatever misguided impulse sparked Malaq’s coddling. It didn’t seem to matter to Krillos what I was before, or what I’d done to him. He struck me as caring more about the here and now. Right now, I was here on his ship ready to fight at his side. That was enough for him. It was a kind of acceptance that felt new to me. And it was refreshing as hell.
The Crown of Stones: Magic-Scars Page 7
