The Ship of Tears: (The Legend of the Nine: Part One) (The Eastern Kingdom Chronicles Book 8)

by T. J. Garrett

  “What are you going on about?” Elspeth said.

  Again, Anooni chuckled.

  “When I say, talk,” Nini said. “I meant talk with everyone. You know these two will want to go with you. You cannot make their minds up for them, Olivia.”

  “That’s, Princess Olivia,” Olivia said. “Or Madam Vierdan. Take your pick. But know this, my mind is made up, and there is nothing you or Elucia can do to change it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Elspeth almost shouted.

  “I still think this is ill-advised, Princess Olivia. You have little support from the tower and no guards at your disposal. Wait a month – two. When all this rumour mongering has calmed down, I may be able to secure passage for your group.”

  “No need,” Olivia said. “I already have a ship.” Again, she tapped the oversized scroll.

  “For the love of Ein’laig,” Elspeth said. “What… the bloody hell… is going on?”

  Olivia gave her a wide smile. “Toi’ildrieg, that is what is going on. I am going back to Toi’ildrieg, and you are coming with me.”

  At that, Elspeth chuckled. “Well, isn’t that just the oddest thing?” she said. “Not half an hour ago, I was arguing with myself over whether or not I should wait on help or just go back on my own.”

  She shot Anooni a quick glance. Again, the Seer was making a job of buttering her bread.

  She knew, Elspeth thought. She knew this was going to happen. She had Seen it.

  Then, a peculiar thought occurred to her. Or did she make it happen? Elspeth turned to look at the pale young woman. Were you that little voice in my head? Were you pushing me toward this? That’s it, isn’t it? You were so sick of seeing us argue, you decided to do something about it.

  Elspeth felt like she should feel some anger toward the woman, but instead, all she felt was immense gratitude. For the first time since returning to the tower, Elspeth felt good about herself. She was going to save the northern witches. A warm glow bloomed in her chest. She felt good. She felt like crying out, like dancing. She could have kissed Anooni.

  Nini sighed. “All right then, if you insist on going now, I might be able to find a dozen men. And I’ll be coming, too.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Olivia said. “You have your duties at the tower; you should—”

  “You are one of the Twelve,” Nini interrupted. “You can order me to accompany you. No, you will order me to accompany you. Either I go with you, or I’ll have the dock master drain the lock. You won’t be going anywhere.”

  Elspeth expected Olivia to blow up at that, but she just smiled at the lieutenant. “Very well, Jak,” she said. “You may accompany us. But you do as I say; this is not a military endeavour; a witch will be in charge. Do you understand?”

  Nini spent a moment staring at the princess, then nodded.

  “Very good,” Olivia said. “Now that’s settled, we should start making arrangements. I want to be gone by week’s end. That gives us two days to gather provisions.”

  “What ship?” Nini asked.

  For the briefest of moments, Olivia seemed to bite her lip. “Once we have our provision, we should make sure these men of yours know what to expect. I think a few sessions in the classroom should suffice. I’ll give the—”

  “What ship, Olivia?” Elspeth repeated Nini’s question, although she had a nasty feeling she already knew the answer.

  “Don’t worry about that now,” Olivia said, with a half laugh. “We should organise the—”

  “The ship, Olivia?”

  The princess sighed. Then whispered, the Swallow, and it was Elspeth’s turn to chuckle.

  CHAPTER 5

  A Thing of Interest

  For what felt like the thousandth time, Gialyn tried to summon lightning. He had done it before – when fighting the giant watcher, he had summoned lighting from his bare hands to force the great beast back into the portal it had come from. Why could he not do it now?

  Again, he closed his eyes. Opening his mind to the Voice and the Power, he let himself feel the air around him.

  He was on top of the pyramid Sek the Black called the Hall of Dragons. In that part of Atria, there was nothing but forest for a dozen leagues in any direction. Indeed, the only landmark not covered in leaves or pine needles were the Atrian mountains, some thirty leagues to the south. The sky was full of white clouds and the air thick with the seemingly ever-present mist – the Wet Wood more than earned its name.

  Gialyn pulled the Power from the air, forced it through his veins and into his hands. This was how he had done it last time – he was sure of that much – he had forced the Power through his body, from the place just below his ribs, and let it out through his hands.

  Nothing. Not even a spark.

  Why?

  Maybe it was the clouds? There had been a storm when he had battled the big Watcher. Maybe he could only throw lighting when there was already lightning in the sky.

  No, if that were true, what use having this gift? And besides, when he had summoned lightning at the stream, the sky had been clear.

  He was missing something, some trick. Maybe he just wasn’t concentrating hard enough. Maybe he needed something to aim at.

  Too many maybes, he thought. Why couldn’t Mersius just tell him how to do it? He had last time.

  He already told you, remember? Pull the power from your centre, let it flow through your veins.

  Again, he tried.

  Nothing.

  “Oh, for… Come on, what’s wrong with you?”

  “You are not in danger,” Sek said.

  Gialyn started. He looked up. The black dragon was hovering over the pyramid. Annoyed, Gialyn flung his arms up. How could he let a huge dragon creep up on him unawares?

  Not creep. You were too far gone, as usual, too lost in your thought to pay attention.

  Sek landed on the square dragon statue that made the top of the pyramid.

  “What do you mean, I’m not in danger?” Gialyn asked.

  “The Balance, Gialyn. Do you think Bausamon would allow you to pull such Power toward yourself without need?”

  Gialyn frowned. That was the first time Sek had mentioned the white dragon. He glanced around at the trees, over toward the mountains. There were no fireworks, no rumble of thunder; Sek just sat atop the square statue as though mentioning Bausamon was an everyday occurrence.

  “And how does he decide what I can and cannot do?” he asked. “Surely the white dragon is too busy to watch my every move.”

  “All right,” Sek said. “Not Bausamon, but what he represents. The white dragon is the Balance. Or rather, he is the manifestation of the power behind the Balance.”

  “The manifestation of the what?” Gialyn asked. “You’re not making any sense. Is Bausamon real or not?”

  He was sure the white dragon was real. Had he not talked to him? Had he not seen Bausamon attack a camp full of Kel’madden troopers? If he was not real, if he was just some manifestation, then who had destroyed that camp?

  “Of course he is real,” Sek said. “But he is also of the Spirit, more so than any other creature. He is of Spirit, and he is of the Earthen Powers. He is of Ein’laig, and is the right hand of Aregolas. There’s more, but I forget. You get the idea.”

  Gialyn nodded. “I suppose. But that still does not explain why I can’t call lighting. How am I to practice these new skills if I cannot call on the Power that created them?”

  Sek did a dragon shrug. “That, I don’t know. I don’t use lightning. Maybe you should ask Orki.”

  On hearing that last comment, Gialyn tried not to choke. “Err, no. That’s not a good idea. I don’t think she likes me. Not after the whole stealing her shard thing and the flooding and the Kel’madden marching all over her precious ruins.”

  “Good point,” Sek said. “But as for the lightning, why don’t you try controlling something smaller first? A funnel of water, maybe. Or a twist of wind. Why not pick up a few rocks and see if you can hit one of tho
se trees? You do not have to start at the top. If you can prove you have the will and patience to work the mundane, maybe the Balance will allow you to use the extraordinary. They call it the Balance for a reason, Gialyn. You can’t have one without the other. You can’t have strength without skill, or speed without stamina. Try the rocks. Give it a few months. You might surprise yourself.”

  Gialyn stared up at the big dragon. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Of a sudden, Sek the Black sounded an awful lot like Tor.

  Best not tell him that, Gialyn thought.

  The last time those two had met, Sek had tried to kill his brother, and it was only the timely arrival of Ban and Lyduk that stopped him.

  Ban and Lyduk? Gialyn thought. I wonder if they are still with father?

  Likely not; the last Gialyn had heard, the two drin were on their way home, worried their presence in Kunadi would make matters worse for the locals – not that things could get much worse; Orki had all but decimated the new city.

  That would mean Daric would have to ride home, or go to Lop, see if he could persuade the Ulroch to let them use the Cistern.

  “Well?” Sek said.

  Gialyn shook himself back to the present. He was off again, daydreaming. He finally stopped having dreams; and now he could not go ten minutes without his mind wandering.

  “Well, what?”

  “The rocks?” Sek said.

  “What? Oh yes, good idea. I’ll do some target practice.”

  Sek laughed. “You do that, Gialyn.”

  “Now what did I say?”

  “Nothing,” Sek said. “I’m just not sure your mind is on the job. Maybe you should come with me this afternoon. I’ll show you something that will give you some perspective on just what it is we are facing.”

  “Show me what?” Gialyn asked.

  Again, Sek laughed. “So, now you’re interested.” He did one of those ugly dragon smiles and shot Gialyn a wry look. “No, you will have to wait until this afternoon. Besides, I don’t think describing my little surprise will do it justice.”

  “Oh, come on,” Gialyn whined. “Now you have to tell.”

  Sek unfurled his wings and hoped off the square dragon statue. “Later,” he said, when he was hovering again.

  How does he do that? Gialyn thought. Sek was the only dragon he had seen who could hover so precisely.

  “Come find me at the lake,” Sek went on. “When the sun hits the second pillar.”

  Gialyn looked down at the strange sun clock in the courtyard in front of the pyramid. The Second pillar was maybe three hours off; he could wait that long.

  “All right,” he said. “Second pillar, I’ll be there.”

  Sek made no reply; he just flew off to the east. To his nest, no doubt.

  “I wonder what he wants to show me?” Gialyn whispered. He had never known the black dragon to act so mysteriously . Usually, Sek would say what he wanted and be damned if it upset anyone. “You’ll just have to wait,” Gialyn told himself. “It’s only three hours.”

  With that, he started down the side of the pyramid. Maybe he could find Mersius or Toban; they could keep his mind occupied for a couple of hours. If not, he could always practice throwing rocks at a tree.

  * * *

  Mersius was by the drying shed, along with Toban and Shiroku. Summer, who had changed back into the bird not long after battling the big Watcher, was perched on the boy’s shoulder.

  Gialyn looked at the black raven as he approached the group. It was hard to believe there was a beautiful young woman hidden in that feathered body, a woman who had turned into a butterfly the size of a ship. Indeed, hard to believe did not cover the half of it. And never mind Summer’s thoughts and memories; where did all that go? Could Pyta, a mere bird, hold all the memories of a human guardian?

  But then, Summer was not human, was she? Humans could not change into birds or giant butterflies. Just what was she? And where did she come from? On their first meeting, Summer had mentioned a castle. They had been inside Gialyn’s dream at the time. Was that where she lived, inside his mind? Inside the mind of Mersius?

  If she lives inside your mind, Gialyn thought, then how can she make herself real?

  Gialyn shook off the thought. It was too much, what with the intriguing comments Sek had just made. What did the black dragon want him to see?

  Mersius looked a deal older than he had, Gialyn noticed. Despite the forest damp, the sun this far south was strong, and the boy had quite the tan. He was not as brown as Shiroku was, but then the Krassian tracker had been dark to begin with – dark and small and beautiful and extremely good with a knife.

  Gialyn sat on the stoop and leaned against the rail. The drying shed still smelled of the tobacco the humans had grown when they lived around the temple. They had left when Sek and forty dragons had descended on their village. Gialyn could not blame them for leaving.

  They looked an odd group. And not for the first time, Gialyn wondered when including a talking wolf in their gang had become the normal way of things.

  Toban, as usual, was lounging on his belly. He did not like the Wet Wood – too damp, he had said. He found it hard to breathe, and was forever panting with his tongue all but hanging down to his knees. He would have to leave soon, Gialyn knew. He would have to go back to Illeas’den; damp or not, the Rukin would need their alpha. More so, after what had happened on Bly. The wolves felt the threat of the Karakin all the more keenly because of their historical connection to the spirit wolves – they had once been battle brothers, fought together during the enlightenment. Would the Karakin expect to rekindle that alliance?

  Still, for now, they were all here, and Gialyn was glad of the company.

  “Heard anything from Damari?” Gialyn asked Mersius.

  There was a lier’seed in the temple, and Mersius would often talk with his father, who was now back home in Labara. Of Damari, however, there was no news. She had left the Blue Tower ten days ago and disappeared.

  Mersius shook his head.

  Shiroku, who was busy fixing the strap on her pack, added, “A trader from Clos said he saw her heading to the south dock. Said he recognised her from the tower.”

  Puzzled, Gialyn nodded. “That would mean she was heading back to Bailryn,” he said – on Eiras, ships from the south dock only sailed to the capital. “I thought you said your father had gone home?” he asked Mersius.

  Again, the boy nodded. Apparently, he was not in one of his talkative moods.

  “I’m sure she’ll turn up,” Shiroku said.

  “But travelling on her own, with all the trouble about?” Gialyn said. “Not a very good plan, is it? Where could she be going?”

  To that, Mersius gave a shrug. His silver eye started spinning. Well, not his eye, the stuff in his eye which took the place of the coloured part. He shuffled on his seat. He had been helping Shiroku fix her pack. Now, he put the leather strap down and stared off into the forest.

  He was missing Damari, Gialyn realised. Which was odd; the two were always arguing, Damari forever chastising the boy for some reason or other. Knowing that, would Mersius not be glad for some time on his own? It would appear not; he definitely looked upset. Maybe Gialyn should not have mentioned all the troubles of late.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” he said. “Damari knows how to take care of herself. And if she has gone back to the palace, she will be surrounded by guards.”

  But she hasn’t gone back to the palace, Gialyn thought.

  There was no need. The Keeper of Keys and the others from Damari’s order had gone home; there was nobody in Bailryn for her to go back to.

  The boy likely knew that, too. But still, he nodded.

  Pyta cawed a shrill note that made Gialyn jump. He pecked at the boy’s ear, and Mersius turned to him. The two seemed to converse for a moment, silver eyes spinning and the raven’s black eyes staring. Then Mersius nodded, and Pyta flew off.

  And where is he going? Gialyn wondered. The bird was forever flying off h
ere and there, and Mersius would never say where he went.

  None of your business, Gialyn. Concentrate on your own duties.

  “What did Sek have to say for himself?” Toban asked. “You were up there a long time.”

  “Yes,” Shiroku added. “Did it work this time? Did you call lightning?”

  “No,” Gialyn said, and to Toban, “He wants to show me something.”

  “Show you, or show us?” the wolf asked.

  “Me, I think. But you can come, if you want.”

  Toban glanced over at the trees, then back at the lake. It was cool by the drying shed, relatively. “I think I would as soon stay here,” he said. “You can tell me later.”

  “Show you what?” Shiroku said.

  “Something that will give me perspective, whatever that means.”

  Shiroku frowned. “More mysterious dragon talk,” she said, head shaking. “If they ever just come out and say what they mean, I think I might faint.”

  Gialyn laughed. “Yes, they can be a bit cagey, and Sek is as bad as Tor for his secrets.”

  “So what do you think it is?” Shiroku said. “What would give you some perspective?”

  Gialyn shrugged. “I have no idea. I guess I’ll find out in an hour or two. Meanwhile,” he said, standing, “I’m hungry. I don’t suppose any of you have started lunch?”

  Shiroku huffed. “You mean, have I started lunch?” she said. “You know, cooking is not just a woman’s job, Gialyn. I’m sure you could manage a stew, were you to try.”

  “Yeah,” Gialyn said, “I could try, but you would not eat it. I’m a terrible cook.”

  “In that case,” Shiroku said, putting her half-repaired pack on the ground beside her chair, “I suggest you practice. Come with me.”

  Gialyn followed, and Shiroku watched as he prepared a soup of mushrooms and squirrel bits. It was not that bad, Gialyn thought, and if nothing else, it filled the hours while he waited to meet Sek.

  They ate, then rested in the shade of the drying shed. Pyta did not come back for his lunch. Where ever the raven had gone, he was off for the day. Mersius still utterly failed to talk, and Toban, now full of charred squirrel bits, fell asleep on the stoop.