The Elder Blood Chronicles Bk 1 In Shades of Grey

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The Elder Blood Chronicles Bk 1 In Shades of Grey Page 9

by Melissa Myers


  The guard gave her an appraising look, smiled to his partner, and sauntered over. “Trouble me as long as you like.” He smiled at her in a way that was not at all reassuring.

  “I’m to take ship here, and I wonder if you might be able to direct me to her dock? I don’t wish to leave my trunks behind to search her out.”

  His smile disappeared with her businesslike tone, and he glanced back to the ships. “Well, I’m no harbormaster, but I know most of ‘em that’s here. Which one ya looking for?”

  “Quicksilver,” she answered and watched his expression switch to a frown.

  “Hmm, ya got a ships pass?” he asked after a moment’s thought. She nodded and pulled the envelope from her cloak and offered it over to him. He barely glanced at the seal before ripping it open and looking over the document. Given his rough appearance she found herself shocked that he could read. “There’s your problem, miss. Quicksilver wouldn’t be here. You need the sky port. That’s up the street then up the hill a bit. He glanced down at her trunks then back at her. If you got coin, I can get ya a pair of stout lads to carry those for ya. Would do it myself but I’m on duty.”

  “Sky port?” She asked stupidly.

  “Aye, sky port, ya know. For the spell hawks? It’s up the hill like I said. You want those lads to carry for you?” He raised an eyebrow in question, obviously impatient to be off if she wasn’t going to present more interesting entertainment for him.

  “Uhh, yes, actually. If you know a couple trustworthy ones, I would be most grateful.”

  He snorted and shook his head. “Miss, ain’t no one trustworthy but for the right coin, I’ll find ya decent ones.” She nodded her understanding and slipped him silver. Hopefully, a coin worth that much would persuade him to find really decent ones. She wanted to ask what exactly a spell hawk was before he left, but remained silent, knowing that she would find out soon enough.

  Within a few short minutes, the guard had waved over a couple rough looking dock hands. She explained what she needed, and soon found herself walking quietly behind them as they led her through a narrow street and up a slight hill. She wasn’t even sure if it could be called a hill, it barely rose over the height of the nearest buildings.

  The top was roughly cobbled and completely bare of buildings as well as trees. She could make out what kind of resembled a ship on the far side. It was deep polished grey all over, as if made entirely of metal. It seemed much smaller than a water-going vessel and resembled a bird in form. It was easy to see where the term hawk had come from as she studied the outstretched wings. Given the coloring, she supposed the name Quicksilver could apply.

  She heard two solid thumps and a throat being cleared, causing her to turn to see the dock hands regarding her expectantly. With a nod, she fished out more coins. Once again silver, one for each of them. They both took a quick glance at the coin and without another look headed back down the hill. She felt a knot of tension release from her stomach at their departure. She had been half convinced they would mug her and take everything, but apparently the guard had found decent ones, as he said he would. She glanced down at her purse and frowned. It was good that Fortune had given her more money. She had already spent a month’s worth of food money just trying to get across town. She took another quick look around to reassure herself that she was alone and walked toward the ship, leaving her trunks behind her for the time being.

  Up close, it was even more impressive. It was roughly about the same size as a small fishing vessel and was fully enclosed. She could see a door in the side right behind the wing. Every inch of it was engraved with runes that seemed to dance before her eyes. Along the wings, she could see the pattern of feathers, but the front did not resemble a bird’s head at all, rather more rounded, with no neck. She frowned a bit when she spotted the title The Shade in elegant print rather than Quicksilver on the back.

  She heard a noise from the far side of the ship, and moved around the front to see. The sound of sharp metal being scraped came again, followed by a muffled curse. She rounded in time to see a sweaty young man backing away from the ships wing, with a pry bar in one hand and what resembled a broken tree limb in the other. He didn’t look much older than she was and had a much cleaner appearance than anyone else she had seen in town. His short hair was a light auburn and heavily tousled from the wind. While he was simply wearing a good quality under tunic and pants, he was both well fed and well-muscled with a wiry build. In short, he was certainly not a local. He wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm, studied the tree branch he held briefly, and tossed it over his shoulder. He seemed to notice her as he turned back to his ship, and his expression grew quizzical. With a raised eyebrow, he looked her over. She noted the glint of silver and the flash of gems from his ears and raised her own eyebrow. She had never seen a man wear that sort of jewelry.

  “Well, now that we have both had a good look, may I help you?” His voice sounded both amused and tired.

  “I was looking for the Quicksilver and thought your ship might be it, but when I got closer I could see the name The Shade, so that answers that. I’m afraid I might have missed her, though. Could you tell me if you have seen her?” She glanced back down at the town and looked quickly back to him, praying he wouldn’t say it had already left. She didn’t fancy the thought of an overnight stay in Brannaford, and she doubted she could book passage on another ship this late.

  He leaned back against the wing of his ship and nodded. “I’m afraid you did miss her, actually. She went down in a storm about two months ago. How long ago did you book passage?”

  She stared at him in disbelief, hoping he would laugh and tell her it was a joke. When his expression stayed serious and he remained silent, she sighed heavily. “I’m not sure, actually. A friend of mine booked the passage.” She looked over her shoulder again and mentally cringed at the thought of dragging those trunks back down the hill to one of the rundown inns.

  “Well, where are you bound to? Brannaford is not a place I would leave a lady.” He smiled as her head whipped back around to look at him with hope written clearly on her features.

  “Truly?” She breathed. “I would pay for passage. I truly don’t want to be here. It’s not at all what I remember it to be,” she added hastily.

  He laughed lightly, still sounding tired but a good sounding laugh she decided. “Truly, and no you don’t have to pay, but you do have to tell me where you are going. Are those your trunks over there?”

  She nodded quickly. “I’ll drag them over. I wouldn’t want to trouble you. I’m headed for Sanctuary actually. That won’t be too far out of the way for you, will it?”

  With another smile he pushed off the ship and tossed his pry bar down beside it. “I’ll get the trunks, it’s no trouble. And no, it won’t be out of my way. I’m headed there myself, actually.” He looked her over again and offered his hand. “My name is Christian, by the way.”

  She took his hand and gave him a smile. “Jala,” she replied with a slight bow of her head.

  “Are you heading to the Academy by chance or does some other business take you to Sanctuary?” he asked in a perfectly polite tone. He had a good voice as well as a good laugh, she decided, and felt herself warming to his company.

  “Yes, actually, though I confess I’m a bit nervous about it. It will be my first year there.”

  He nodded his understanding. “Will be my third year, and we have a decent length of flight before we get there. I’ll try to explain what I can of it on the way.” He made a motion toward the trunks. “Let me get those loaded and we will get out of here. I can’t say I’m fond of this town, the sooner we are gone the happier I am.”

  She watched him walk off toward the trunks and smiled brightly up at the sky. “Thank you, Fortune!” She whispered and kissed her amulet lightly. Her hopes were higher than they had been in days.

  He returned in moments with the trunks bobbing in the air behind him. She gaped a moment at her trunks and then looke
d to him with a raised eyebrow.

  “Too bulky to carry without dragging so it’s just simpler this way,” he explained briskly, obviously misunderstanding her expression. Approaching the ship, the side door slid open and without a pause he lifted the biggest of the trunks, as if it weighed no more than a feather, and pushed it inside. Once both were loaded he offered her a hand up as well. “Sooner gone, the sooner there,” he said with a wink. She stepped inside quickly and moved from the door into the interior. It was bigger than she had expected and very well accommodated. Her trunks rested easily between four leather seats in the back of the ship. Noticing two more seats in the front of the ship, she paused unsure as to where he expected her to sit. He stood behind her now, securing the door.

  “On up in the front if you wish, no sense for you to ride back here as cargo; you might as well have a good view. Take the seat on the right and please don’t touch any of the controls.”

  She gratefully nodded that he hadn’t made her ask where to go, and moved to sit in the right hand chair. The seat sank slightly as she rested her weight in it. The leather was warm and soft to the touch. She ran a hand over it idly amazed at the comfort. Not even her bed in the Temple had been this relaxing and it was down filled. He moved to his own chair and dropped into it lightly. With practiced ease, he leaned forward and rested his hand on a panel on the dash. To her delight and amazement the entire dash of the ship lit up with an array of bright colors. At one place there were numbers and at others lines all clearly displayed and completely incomprehensible to her.

  Her mind raced with further curiosity when a map appeared in the upper right hand corner of the display screen. She had never actually seen a map of the world before and found herself leaning forward to study it more intently. There were three large landmasses displayed. The one to the west was far larger than the other two. On the southern corner near the eastern coast a red dot was flashing. “Is this where we are? Brannaford, that is?” She asked, indicating the dot with her finger.

  She glanced over to find him watching her with an odd expression. He gave a slight nod but remained silent. She looked back toward the map, examining the large circle centered almost perfectly in between the land masses. It looked half the size of the smallest landmass but had nothing written on it to indicate what it was. In fact, to her great frustration, none of the map had writing to indicate what countries were where. The only ones she could identify with certainty were Merro to the south of where the red dot was, and Greenwild, the country Brannaford was in. Realizing the only way her curiosity was going to be sated was by asking she pointed at the large perfect circle. “What is that?”

  He stared at her for a moment as if trying to decide if she was serious then answered in a neutral voice. “That’s Sanctuary.”

  Her eyes widened and she looked from him and back to the map. “It’s not really that big, is it?” It couldn’t possibly be a city the size of a small country. That couldn’t be possible, could it? How would she ever even find the Academy if he didn’t offer to guide her?

  “That map is to scale. Sanctuary is actually several cities built around one, it was the first place created, and that’s why it’s so big.” His voice still held that neutral tone and he was still watching her very closely.

  “Created?” She asked quietly. She really didn’t want to seem as stupid as he obviously thought she was but she had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Where are you from?” he asked with curiosity, his voice showing no hint of malice or reproach.

  She blushed slightly and frowned. “From a small Temple south of Brannaford; it’s near a crossroad village by the name of Bliss. Though it’s not much of a village anymore since the fall of Merro, and there is certainly nothing Blissful about it. I doubt you have heard of the place.” She gave a derisive chuckle. “I doubt many in Brannaford have heard of it, and they are only about a day away.”

  “And they never taught you the story of Sanctuary?” he asked carefully as if testing her.

  “They taught me the fundaments of the Temple and how to read and write but not much beyond that. I’m afraid I don’t know much about the other lands at all, or history for that matter,” she replied, her tone cautious. She wasn’t sure why he was suspicious but she didn’t want to offend him further.

  He nodded again and seemed to reach a decision. “Well, the story of Sanctuary is a long one, and I’m no bard, but I can give you the general bones of it quickly enough.” He leaned back in his seat and indicated the map. “This is not the only world. That’s difficult to believe but it’s the truth of it. In the distant past over a thousand years ago this world did not even exist and its inhabitants, well some of them anyway, were scattered across these other worlds. There were many others aside from our people, and among them was an order of mages known as The Guardians.” He paused as if considering how best to continue and then spoke again quietly. “Our people here, the ones that dwell in this world, were well known out there for their power and strength and willingness to use that power. So in the best interest of the other worlds The Guardians began the creation of Sanctuary. They kept it secret in forming, and through cunning, trickery, and at times simple explanation they slowly brought it to the attention of our people. They told them it was a refuge to build strength and a safe place from their enemies. They told them several different stories and always in the greatest secrecy. Over time they convinced our people to help them in the creation, never once telling them what it really was.”

  “What was it really?” She broke in as curious as a child listening to a hearthside tale.

  He gave a mirthless chuckle. “A prison,” he answered quietly. “Our people were trouble makers out there you see, and dangerous, too. They brought war and used magic against their enemies and the other worlds suffered for our strength. So they made Sanctuary, and lied. On the day the portals opened to this world, each Bloodline and their retainers stepped through, believing this was a secret place, one where they could hide, or prepare, or whatever story they had been led to believe. They had no idea others would be here as well. The Guardians had kept the truth very quiet and it wasn’t until the last portal closed that the Barrier went up. That’s the true genius of the plan. The Barrier. It’s a masterpiece.” He smiled at her and indicated toward the sky. “You can’t see it with the naked eye. You have to look with mage sight, but I wouldn’t recommend it. You’d be blinded by the sight of it for a time.”

  She found herself craning to see the sky through the view screen, even though he had said she couldn’t see it. She pondered what he had told her so far and wondered at the truth of it. How could you trap gods with any barrier? “How does the barrier keep them here if they have so much magic?”

  He smiled ruefully. “I said it was a masterpiece. The way it is created, only a creature with absolutely no magic can pass it. If any sort of magic comes into contact with it, it absorbs the magic and strengthens the barrier. And there are no creatures here without magic. That is one thing the Immortals cannot create - a pure, mortal creature with no magic. They have tried, but to create life, they must use magic and so magic leaves its touch on the creature in small ways. Even if they could create such a creature, what good would it do to send it out through the barrier? With no magic, it would have little chance of bringing the barrier down on that side. The Guardians would stop it.”

  “But the village people and the citizens of Brannaford aren’t magical,” she objected. Her parents had never shown mage talent, nor had any of the other villagers she had known. Neither had she for that matter.

  He glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “They all do in some small way. Every last one of them. What we call mortals or commons are technically Spellborn, the offspring of the ones the Immortals tried to create without magic. They all have something, be it strength beyond normal means or the ability to work some minor spell like light. All of them can do something. Many of them never find their talents, but they are there.” He leaned forward
to the control panel again. “So they created the perfect prison for us, and essentially sentenced us all to death. In the beginning, there were twenty Bloodlines that were brought here. One of those did not even survive the first day on Sanctuary. The most important thing to remember about the Immortal Bloodlines is, for the most part, they despise each other. There are exceptions, a few unsteady alliances, but not many. There are twelve remaining Bloodlines now since the fall of Merro. Given enough time, there won’t even be twelve. We will kill each other off slowly. It’s our nature, I suppose.” His tone sounded disgusted as he added the last. He turned his attention fully back to the spell hawk, and she didn’t press him for more. She sensed now was not the time to speak of that particular topic. Perhaps later she could learn more.

  With practiced ease, he drew the controls back to him, and the spell hawk began to lift gracefully into the air. She found herself clutching the seat, expecting the takeoff to be rough. Slowly she loosened her grip and leaned back in her seat relaxing again. “Don’t worry, I’m the best pilot there is.” He gave her a reassuring smile as he spoke. “You really are genuine, aren’t you?” he asked quietly, once they had gained the correct altitude.

  “Genuine?” She asked in confusion.

  “You really are a stranded girl from the country,” he clarified.

  “Yes, I suppose that’s a good description. What else would I be?”

  “A trap,” he replied simply, some of the fatigue gone from his voice. “I had guessed you an assassin, but you don’t even know who I am, do you?”

  “You thought I was an assassin and let me on your ship?” she asked in disbelief. Then added in almost an afterthought “and no, I don’t know who you are, should I?”

 

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