Across the Darkling Sea

by K. Ferrin

  “Now, Captain, you know very well what’s at stake.”

  The feeling of smallness washed over her again, and she wondered how she would ever find Grag. She looked at Fariss, at the purple glinting in his chin and ears, and at Captain Drake, and she wondered if either of them knew Grag or knew of him. The Courser regularly ran this route, so perhaps he had taken this very ship on his way to or from Meuse five years ago. Would they help her if she asked them? She had already determined that she would have to ask for help. She’d never find him on her own. The world, even her small corner of it, was far too large.

  “There is no room for politics on this ship, Fariss. You know the rules.” Captain Drake’s voice took on a sharp edge.

  “This ship won’t be sailing much longer without those politics, as you know, Captain.”

  “There’s plenty of ocean to sail, Fariss. It makes no difference to me if I’m on this one or some other.”

  Ling tuned in to the conversation happening around her, aware, finally, that they were discussing something she knew nothing about. A centuries-long war? Between who? There hadn’t been war anywhere in she didn’t even know how long. But she’d missed her opportunity; their conversation was over.

  Fariss grunted in response to Drake’s last words. Ling thanked Captain Drake and begged off for the night. She had to get away from Fariss, away from the weirdness of this place. She needed time to think and to write.

  Earlier in the day, she’d found a small, private place between the crates huddled up against the captain’s cabin, and she headed there now. She couldn’t sleep in a hammock with the others so close. She had no idea what happened when she wasn’t conscious, and she couldn’t have others around her when she awoke, lost and confused and ignorant of all that had transpired since the day Evelyn had been cursed.

  She needed time alone in the mornings. She needed a chance to read her memories, come to terms with all that had happened to her, and get her wits about her. Besides, she couldn’t stomach the idea of being unconscious while being so close to Fariss. She imagined him studying her while she slept and shuddered.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Ling huddled in her nook, scribbling furiously in the grimoire, recording everything that had happened today in the faint light that drifted down from Captain Drake’s window. She had no idea what time it was, but she was exhausted. When she was finished writing, she closed the grimoire quietly, curled up into a tight ball, and stared into the absolute darkness that surrounded the boat.

  What had Fariss called it? Mare Tenebrarum. The Darkling Sea.

  She lay there, eyes wide and staring, unable to sleep despite the exhaustion weighing on her. The ship was silent now, the other passengers likely tucked into their hammocks and deeply asleep. She worried that someone would notice the empty hammock and comment on it or come looking for her. She hoped they wouldn’t notice or that they’d just shrug it off as eccentricity.

  A light flipped on above her head, and she curled up even more tightly. Captain Drake kept a small light burning in her cabin at all times, making this the perfect spot for Ling, given her need to write and read so regularly. But she hadn’t anticipated the extra brightness when Drake was inside the cabin with a full complement of candles and biolumesce lit. It made her feel exposed.

  There was no way anyone would be able to see her from outside the cabin, she told herself. No matter how bright the light, she was still at the bottom of a tower of crates, burrowed tightly among them. Drake herself would have to lean out the window and look straight down to see her huddled there. This was as safe a place to be as any. She heard the heavy scrape of wood on wood as the window above her was pushed open.

  She curled herself into the smallest ball she could make, hoping the stacked cargo would still hide her if the captain did happen to look directly down. Ling stared up, unable to help herself, and saw the captain leaning on the windowsill, staring out across the dark sea. The angle prevented her from getting a clear view of the captain’s face, but from what Ling could tell, she seemed troubled. She breathed deeply once, twice, before vanishing back into her room, leaving the window open.

  Ling was torn. She didn’t like feeling so vulnerable, but none of the other places she’d scouted had provided the lighting she needed in this eternally dark place. Regardless, there was no way she could leave now without alerting the captain to her presence. She had full access to the ship, but Ling was certain the captain would think she’d been spying if she was caught huddled here. Ling couldn’t bear to disappoint her in such a way after she had been so kind and generous.

  The night deepened around her. They’d turned off the engine, and the ship drifted in silence. She wondered if the lights were on out on the deck, shining out into the pink waters and holding the sirené at bay. An odd buzzing sound broke the silence above her, and she watched as the largest dragonfly she’d ever seen settled itself on the ledge of the captain’s window. It paused there, looking into the cabin, before hopping off the ledge into the room. It had been at least two foot long, perhaps more.

  “Alyssum, so good to see you.” The captain’s voice was a low murmur and tender, as if speaking to a lover. Ling hadn’t even heard the door to the cabin open.

  “Drake,” said a rich, melodious voice that barely reached the window. “I’ve missed you most dearly.”

  Ling heard the rustle of clothes, footsteps moving across the floor, and soft sounds she could make no sense of. A moment later, she heard the sound of two chairs being pulled across the floor.

  “How was your time in Middelhaern?” Used to hearing the captain’s voice with a ring of command, Ling could hardly believe the softness of it now.

  “Usual,” the other woman, Alyssum, answered. “There is less and less of it with every visit, and the fools have no idea, of course.”

  “There has always been so little of it there, you can hardly blame them for not noticing.”

  “You are right as always, my dear. Though I cannot fathom how they live such empty lives.”

  “Oh, it isn’t so bad.” One of the chairs shifted again, and Ling heard a couple quick steps across the floor. “And you don’t seem to mind it all that much.” Drake’s voice had dropped low and husky, and Ling could hear the sound of fabric against fabric, a soft moan.

  “He is stirring up trouble,” Captain Drake said.

  “He is nothing. We have naught to fear from him.”

  “He saw your glance. He was curious about her.”

  “As am I. What do you know of her?”

  Ling sat up straight, forgetting momentarily that she was crouched and trying to hide.

  “Not much, I’m afraid. Her name is Ling. Dreskin sent her. I don’t know why, but he wouldn’t do that if he hadn’t felt she was important. She’s quiet, but friendly enough. Hiding something, though,” Drake said.

  Alyssum murmured in agreement. “I had heard the Scarlet was destroyed in a storm, and I was searching for him. That’s why I was late. It took time for word of his survival to reach me.”

  “She claims she found him on the beach after the storm. Brought him to the White Owl.”

  “Now that is interesting. Few of her sort know of the White Owl.”

  “Very,” Captain Drake said. “We checked it out before allowing her passage. He’s beat up, but he’ll heal well enough under the Owl’s care. He was medicated and deeply asleep while Rast was there, so we couldn’t get any other information out of him.”

  “Pity,” Alyssum said. “I rather hoped to see the boy this journey. Our paths have crossed far too infrequently of late. Regardless, we must watch her closely. She feels...different. She is not one of you.”

  “Not one of us? She is Mari?” Drake asked, surprise lifting her voice.

  “No. Not Mari. But definitely not human, either. I’ve never felt anything quite like her before.”

  The two were silent for a while before Alyssum continued, “I want to thank you, Drake. For your aid, even as things worsen. Y
ou take great risk in helping us.”

  “You said he is no threat to us,” Drake chided, a gentle laugh in her tone.

  “You are risking far more than just his wrath, and you know it. You are precious, Drake. To me, to Fern,” Alyssum’s voice choked up, and for a moment it seemed like she couldn’t continue. “We’d both be dead if it were not for your help. Because of you, the Mari live on. I’ve thanked you before, but I’ll do it again. Thank you.”

  “Don’t say such things.” Ling could barely make out Drake’s voice it was so faint and breathless. “But, I can think of a few ways you might repay me,” the captain continued, her voice once again colored with teasing humor. There was a low murmur of assent followed by a soft flumph that sounded like fabric hitting the floor. The room was silent but for soft murmuring sounds. Ling listened intently, trying to understand what was going on and hoping furiously that they’d continue talking. Drake was convinced Ling was hiding something, and the scaled woman, Alyssum, knew she wasn’t human. And Dreskin, he was clearly more than he’d let on. How did these women know him, and how had they come to view him with such esteem? She didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified.

  A low moan escaped the window, and with a start, Ling realized what was happening in the room. She stood up silently and peeked over the windowsill, keeping her head as low as possible. The two women were wrapped around one another on the bed. Captain Drake’s head was thrown back, her back arched, as the other woman nuzzled her breasts, one hand moving between Drake’s thighs. Alyssum’s roping black hair was draped all around them, and Ling could clearly see the fine yellow scaling tracing down her neck and along her shoulders. The lower portion of her breasts shimmered yellow in the flickering candlelight.

  Ling dropped silently back to the floor, hands covering her mouth to stifle a sharply indrawn breath. She huddled in her nook, embarrassed for having intruded on such a private moment between the two women, but unable to leave. They’d surely hear her if she tried to scramble away, and besides, she had to hear any further conversation between them.

  She curled back into a tight ball beneath the window. The soft sounds of the women’s lovemaking were an odd counterpoint to the sharp unease of her thoughts. She had been fairly certain Fariss had noticed Alyssum’s look, and Drake had confirmed it. A fact that made his friendliness toward her even more terrifying. Fariss’s comments from hours ago, only half-heard at the time, came back to her. It’s a wonder you let her on your ship. There were only two other female passengers on board, but the emphasis he’d put on the word “her” made Ling think he must have been talking about Alyssum. Not a human, but a Mari.

  But the more she pondered the overheard conversations, the less they made sense. The pieces didn’t quite fit with what she knew of the world. A centuries-long war between some race called the Mari and the warlocks—how could such a thing have raged for so long with so few being aware?

  Then again, Brielle was an isolated backwater when it came to magic. Perhaps everyone did know. Everyone but them. For the thousandth time, Ling cursed her people’s decision to deny the existence of magic. Things that happened in the world affected them whether they chose to acknowledge them or not. Drake was right; the only thing their denial did was ensure that they would be unprepared when trouble finally came knocking on their door. Ling wasn’t sure about anything, but she had a sneaking feeling it was knocking now.

  Drake had told Fariss there were no politics on this boat. That she and her crew took no sides. But there was little question that she and Alyssum were lovers. Drake had lied to Fariss. Why? And why had Dreskin believed her important enough to send to these two women?

  She’d gotten herself tangled in something far larger than her quest for Grag, and that fact terrified her. Alyssum had said that she and someone called Fern would likely be dead if not for Drake’s help. Ling wondered if they were all that remained of the Mari, and if so, what had sought to destroy them. Fariss clearly did not like Alyssum. Did he hunt her, seek to destroy her? Or maybe he sought to capture her and study her as he desired of the sirené.

  She wanted off this ship and away from these people. Maybe she could do this if she had Rudy or Shera at her side, but alone, she didn’t know what to do or whom to turn to. Were Alyssum and Drake a threat or allies? She wondered if they would even care about her quest, given they were clearly embroiled in something of their own.

  She couldn’t leave the Courser until it docked in Marique, and she had no place to return to in Brielle. There was nowhere to go but forward, no matter how much the idea of that filled her with dread. Perhaps she could simply flee, build a life somewhere else. No one would know who or what she was.

  Except her. There was nowhere she could go to escape that truth.

  Things were happening too fast and there was too much that she didn’t understand. She had to find Grag, to find a way to break this curse, but she felt as if all that were slipping through her fingers. There were too many moving parts, too many unknowns. She felt like a net was tightening around her, but she couldn’t see any way out.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Ling hid in her little nook for quite some time, thinking of all she’d read in the strange book that had been cradled on her chest when she’d awoken this morning. She hadn’t believed it, but she couldn’t deny she was on a ship, and there was no question it was on the sea and not a river. She could smell the salty freshness of the seawater, feel the odd sensation of deep vibrations from the engine, whatever that was. Slowly, she came to terms with the reality that she was sailing across an eternally dark sea on her way to Dreggs. Or Marique, as the others called it.

  The others. Warlocks. She’d lived her entire life in Meuse, had visited Middelhaern more times than she could count, and she’d never seen a warlock. Now she was on a ship with three of them.

  She was afraid to leave this small corner of relative normality. As long as she huddled here, she could pretend she was on her father’s boat, that she would find him just on the other side of the crates. In the darkness, curled up in this little nook, she could pretend she was still her father’s daughter and that he loved her so.

  According to the book, Alyssum, a Mari, someone Ling had never even dreamed existed, had sensed something odd about her. The captain believed she was hiding something, and the shadowy, purple-stained, creepy man named Fariss had noticed Alyssum’s regard and was likewise curious about her. She told herself not to worry about any of it. The grimoire had been very clear—while she’d drawn the eye of each of these people, none had shown even the slightest bit of aggression toward her. But the fact that she’d even felt compelled to write that down made fear blossom in her gut.

  She could hear the shouts of the crew as they went about their business, and from time to time she heard folks talking as they strolled about the deck. She stuffed the grimoire into its bag, hung it across her chest, and peeked out of her hiding spot, scanning the deck as far as she could see in the dim light.

  The biolumesce still glowed, giving the ship a ghostly feel. When she was sure no one was nearby, she stepped out onto the deck and hurried to the kitchen. “Act normal,” she whispered to herself. They were the last words she’d read in the grimoire. The message she’d left herself. They might suspect something, but they don’t know. Do not give them a reason to wonder further. Act normal.

  She found the cook in the kitchen, looking exactly as she’d described him in the book: a garrulous man with an impressive mustache and belly. He gave her a wink as he handed her a thick slice of still-warm bread thickly spread with butter and honey and a steaming mug of coffee.

  She settled at a table and took a big bite of the bread. She was still chewing when she saw Fariss enter, spot her, and head in her direction, a smile lighting his face. The bright light of the kitchen sparked off the amethyst embedded in his chin and threw the dark purple of his chin and lips into stark relief. She shivered, though whether from the oddity of his coloring, the embedded stone, or th
e strange flickering of his body, she could not say.

  The conversation between Fariss and Captain Drake the day before suggested that he and Alyssum were enemies. Did he also see Ling as an enemy? When she thought about it honestly, she didn’t think so. She thought it more likely that he saw her as a tool. A possible way to further his agenda, whatever that was.

  She didn’t like him. The grimoire had been very clear on that point. The way he smelled, the way he looked at her, his manner of speech, and how he held himself all caused her a deep feeling of unease. But he was Tovenveran, just as Grag had been. He wore the same amethyst stones Grag had carried. Even if he didn’t know Grag, he might have information that would be very valuable to her. He might even know how to unmake her. Creepiness aside, she had to be friendly toward him.

  “Good morning, Ling,” he said as he sat down next to her with his own steaming mug of coffee. He wrapped his fingers around the mug and sipped from it, smiling broadly as he did so. “I love the way they make their coffee,” he said. “That hint of cinnamon is simply delicious, don’t you think?”

  His odd scent wafted toward her, and Ling buried her nose in her mug. She took a sip and let the hot liquid play on her tongue before swallowing. The cinnamon gave the coffee an earthy twist that was quite delicious. The scent reminded her of fall pies fresh out of the oven. She missed her parents and home. She pulled her nose out long enough to answer, “Yes, it is quite delicious,” before burying it back into the mug.

  “Did you sleep well? Not the most comfortable arrangements on this ship, though there’s no question it’s the fastest on the sea. Not to mention the only one that still sails this route reliably.”

  Ling was surprised by that. If the Courser was the only ship regularly making this trip, Dreskin’s favor was even bigger than she’d suspected. She’d have spent days in Middelhaern searching out a ship to bring her here, drawing attention to herself just by the nature of her inquiries. It was entirely possible she’d have missed the Courser altogether as a result.