Harbinger

by Shae Ford

  He could almost hear the smirk in her voice. “When you’ve seen as much as I’ve seen, you stop worrying about death.” Then after a moment: “A friend of mine had a chant he used to say before every battle — something that steeled him for the fight, I suppose. Would you like me to teach it to you?”

  “Yes.” He thought learning something new would keep him distracted, at the very least.

  “All right.” She took a deep breath. “There are times when death seems certain, and hope is dim. But in those times, I forget my fears. I do not see the storm that rages, or the battle that looms ahead. I close my eyes to the dangers — and in the quiet of the darkness, I see only what must be done.”

  Her words coursed the length of his every vein, filling him with something like molten iron — something that burned furiously enough to beat back the icy monster of his fear. His hands stopped shaking and he gripped the wheel tighter, prepared to face whatever awaited them on the other side.

  After a few moments, he was calm enough to ask her something else. “How old are you, by the way?”

  But Kyleigh didn’t answer. She’d either wandered off or, more likely, was ignoring him.

  Shouts rang out from the bow. He heard a message being passed along, the same sounds hollered by different voices. A wave of panic washed over the crew and set their boots pounding in a frenzy of motion. Morris nearly knocked him over in his rush to get back to the wheel.

  “Hold on tight, lad!” he cried.

  Kael barely had time to breathe before the fog disappeared. It brushed passed his face, taking the cold itch with it, and left behind something much more terrifying.

  A mountain of black storm clouds hovered above them. They churned and bubbled up, swelling against the fierce beast trapped within them: a storm that belched thunder and spat jagged lines of lightning into the sea. But that wasn’t the worst part, not by far.

  He could almost hear Morris’s jaw drop as he said: “Well, this is new.”

  A few yards ahead, the ocean dropped away. It fell from all sides and into a bowl the size of a village. Green-blue, foamy waterfalls poured down in straight lines, and the roar of crashing water drowned out everything else. They already had Anchorgloam swept up in their current, pulling her in, and Kael could do nothing to stop it. All he could do was make sure they didn’t wind up in splinters at the bottom.

  The bow slipped over the edge and he pulled hard on the wheel, turning the rudder until the ship was nearly parallel with the lip of the bowl. Then the wood groaned as the whole thing toppled forward.

  He held the wheel and at the same time, fought to keep his feet on the ground as they fell. He knew if they went straight down, it would smash them to bits, so he made the ship turn and take the fall at an angle: just like how Roland taught him to climb down tricky slopes.

  It worked. Anchorgloam skirted the wall and reached the bottom of the bowl with a splash and no splinters. But the tempest wasn’t done with them yet.

  At this bottom of the world, the waves climbed to three or four times the height of their tallest mast. They were monsters of the deep — leviathans with jaws the size of Tinnark. As the waves stalked them, the wind and the rain worked together: one whipping while the other stung. The cold seeped through their skin and froze the marrow in their bones. Lightning toyed with them, striking a fingernail away from their sails and illuminating each terrified line on their faces.

  The ocean scooped Anchorgloam up and tossed her from one wave to the next, she rocked dangerously as the wind beat her sails. Kael’s arms were shaking from the force of trying to hold the wheel steady. He could feel his strength fading; his mind began to lose its sharpness.

  “Hold fast, men! With all that you are — hold fast!”

  The cry came from Lysander. He and a dozen others were wrestling with the sails, trying to get them tied down. But the wind swirled from every direction. It cut back and forth in painter’s strokes, ripping through the sails and making the ropes scream in agony.

  Kael realized they wouldn’t be able to tie them down. There must be another way. The library was chalk full of books on storms and sailing, and he was grateful now that Morris insisted he read them. He combed through his memory, searching frantically as the words and pictures flashed before his eyes. Then he had an idea.

  “Free the sails, track the wind!” he shouted, and he heard Morris echo him.

  Lysander passed the order on, and soon all the men had stumbled over to a tie — wading through icy water and fighting against the gales. They latched onto the ropes and hauled back, tilting them until they were full.

  Anchorgloam lunged forward, narrowly escaping a towering wave as it crashed behind them. The force of the wind and the wave shot them across the bowl. He could see the other side rising up ahead of them. It was every bit as steep and swift as its brother.

  “I’m sorry, lad!” Morris said, his eyes wide with terror as they took in the wall. “I’ve doomed us, there’s no way —”

  “Yes there is!” Kael said. A wave crashed over him. It burned his eyes and he spat out a mouthful of water so cold that it made his teeth hurt. “Tell the men to keep tracking. We’ve got to get every last gust of wind.”

  “Aye, aye!”

  Morris passed the order along while Kael spun the wheel. They would climb just as they fell: at an angle.

  The bow hit the wall and the rushing water tried to shove it back down, but the power of the wind was greater. Anchorgloam began to climb, propelled by her full sails. The pirates moved back and forth, shouting to each other as the wind changed directions, and sprinting to catch it. They climbed fast; soon they were nearly halfway up the wall. And then the tempest struck back.

  Shadows crossed Kael’s hands, and he felt something enormous eclipse the sky above him. When he turned around, he saw a wave so monstrous that it was worthy of legend. Foam gathered at its top. It groaned, leaned forward, and Kael cried out in warning. Then it fell.

  He’d never been crushed by a boulder, but he imagined it couldn’t have felt worse than being crushed by a wave. A giant’s arm slapped into the middle of his back, knocking him off his feet. The water took his breath and his legs. It tried to rip his arms off the wheel, but he held it stubbornly in place. He refused to let the tempest win.

  When the wave finally fell back into the ocean, his knees struck the ground as the earth reclaimed him and his face smacked into the wheel. He was so numb with cold that it wasn’t until he wiped the hair out of his face that he saw bright red blood staining his sleeve.

  “The sails, to the sails!” Morris bellowed.

  Kael looked up and saw that all of the pirates had been washed off their posts. They were stuck in a tangled mass of bodies and ropes at the back of the ship and while they struggled, the sail ties flapped freely.

  Without her full sails, Anchorgloam began to slip backwards as the water reclaimed her. It pulled her down slowly, like a spider dragging in its paralyzed prey. He knew if the sails stayed empty much longer, they’d all be smashed to bits.

  He wasn’t about to let that happen.

  “Hold the wheel!” he said, and Morris wedged his arms obediently between the knobs.

  “Wait — where are you going? No, put that back on! You’ll drown!”

  But Kael ignored him. He ripped off his lash and sprinted down the stairs.

  Kyleigh managed to break free of the tangle and was holding down one side by herself, using her impossible strength to drag the sail back into position. Kael grabbed the other side. He didn’t think about the fact that he was about to do something a dozen men had just been struggling to do: he just knew it needed to be done.

  “Starboard!” he said, and Kyleigh nodded. They moved back and forth, catching the wind and pulling Anchorgloam out of her fall. One by one, pirates broke free and lined up behind him. Kael could feel a headache pulsing at the top of his skull, but he ignored the pain and kept pulling.

  They were nearly there, he could see the lip of the bo
wl. They were almost over it. They just needed one final push. “Pull down, men, down!” he said, and he heard the pirates grunt as they obeyed.

  The sails tipped back and caught a jump of wind, just enough of a gust to pop them over the wall and onto the solid ocean once again. The bow tipped forward and pulled the hull over. It struck the water with a splash — a splash that he hadn’t exactly been counting on.

  He felt every drop of his momentary elation get sucked right back down to his stomach as he watched the terrifying, blue-green beast rush towards him. The wave hit him in the gut and knocked him off his feet. The sea rushed over his mouth, nose and eyes as his body was thrown backwards. Then the water was gone … and he was falling.

  He plummeted over the side of the wall, watching as Anchorgloam’s rudder slipped over the top to safety. He shut his eyes tight and let the roar of wind whipping past his ears deafen him. He knew how far he fell by how much time he had to regret.

  Why hadn’t he listened to Morris? Why hadn’t he held the rope a little tighter? Why hadn’t he been expecting that blasted wave?

  He wasn’t surprised when he finally struck the bottom of the bowl and felt all the air get punched out of his lungs. The icy monster in the pit of his stomach rose up as the waves dragged him under. It seized his heart, gripped his limbs in madness. He fought against the ocean’s hold; he kicked and squirmed.

  Slowly, he lost track of where the surface was. His lungs screamed for air, but the briny water rushed in and silenced them. He became part of the ocean: a drifting, aimless being with a body and little else.

  He couldn’t hear the tempest rage, couldn’t hear the bubbles that slipped out from between his lips — though he imagined that when they reached the surface and popped, the whole realm would be able to hear his screams.

  But here, the world was quiet. So endlessly, blissfully quiet …

  Chapter 26

  Secrets

  Kael knew he was dreaming again. He knew this because people did not rise up out of the ocean and go flying through the clouds. So if he was flying, if he’d somehow managed to escape the icy clutches of the tempest, he knew it was because he was dreaming. Or perhaps he was dead.

  The clouds still belted out rain by the river-full. He passed them, moving through a dark tunnel of gray and ice, but he couldn’t feel a thing. The cold didn’t burn his nose and the wind didn’t lash his cheeks.

  Then he wasn’t in the sky. He knew this because the sky was above him, and the hard earth was under his back. The rain that struck his face sounded hollow, distant: more like it was striking some roof high above him.

  His lungs tightened under a sudden pressure on his chest. Then he felt another pressure, strange and foreign, upon his lips. It happened again, this time sharper and more insistent. He thought he could almost hear the desperation behind the pressure, the far-off cries of someone begging him to come back. He fought against the numbness. He stretched out, reached for the cries —

  Air rushed into his lungs. It broke the seal and his chest convulsed as water spurted up and out his mouth.

  It all came rushing back: the cold, the stinging rain, the rough earth beneath him, his screaming headache. Someone was pounding him on the back, jarring his aching head with every stroke. He recognized her voice as she cried:

  “Breathe, Kael! Breathe!”

  And he did. He sucked in a full breath of the biting cold air and swore that nothing had ever tasted sweeter. It burned his lungs, but he didn’t care. He rolled over and tried to pull himself up, but his arms collapsed beneath him. His chin hit the ground and he could feel the pain in his head radiating down his spine. He groaned as his body turned over onto his back, urged forward by a pair of impossibly strong hands.

  A streak of lightning flicked across the sky, illuminating the worry on her face as she leaned over him. “Kael? Are you all right? For mercy’s sake, talk to me!”

  “I’m fine, Kyleigh. I’m fine,” he said, and the effort nearly cost him his supper. “Ugh … my head’s about to explode.”

  He closed his eyes against the bright flashes of lightning and felt her hands on either side of his face. She lifted him gently, and he gasped as fire glanced his forehead.

  It was a burn the likes of which he’d never felt. Heat blossomed in his cheeks, his stomach — it rushed down and warmed the frozen tips of his toes. The pain in his head was driven back by it, burned away by the flames. He opened his eyes.

  Kyleigh was gone, but the warmth in his body lingered. He rolled over on his side and put his arm over his head, trying to block the rain. Soon, the heat was back — and this time it was familiar. Orange light danced behind his eyelids and the smell of burning wood filled the air. Somehow, Kyleigh had managed to get a fire started.

  He felt her lay down beside him, felt her arm drape across his chest. He was too exhausted to try and push her away, too cold to mind how her closeness burned him. Sleep was coming fast. “How did you do it?” he muttered. “How did you save me?” He didn’t see how it was possible. For all he knew, they were both dead.

  Her arm tightened around his chest and she whispered: “A knight never reveals her secrets.”

  Her breath tickled the back of his neck — sending another wave of heat that picked him up and carried him gently into the realm of dreams.

  *******

  When morning came, Kael had to peel his eyes open. Salt, capped off with a light dusting of gritty sand, crusted over every inch of him. His throat was so dry that he could hardly swallow. He opened his eyes and had to blink several times before the world came back into focus.

  A small fire was the first thing he saw. Three rabbits cooked over it, filling the air with the smell of roasting meat. Though the sky was gray, no rain fell. The trees around him were pines — so spiky and tall that for one mad second, he thought he was in the Unforgivable Mountains.

  But then he remembered where he was, and all the events of the night came groggily back to him. His face burned to think of how he nearly drowned. Morris would never let him hear the end of it — provided he ever saw Morris again.

  A bent strip of bark lay on the ground in front of him. He stretched for it, grimacing as his muscles stung and wincing when his grimace pulled at the tender skin above his left brow. A shallow pool of water glistened in the crook of the bark, and he wasted no time gulping down a mouthful. It was cool and sweet.

  He studied his reflection in the water’s surface. Even the leviathan would lose its appetite if it saw how bruised his face was. There was a narrow gash that ran through his left eyebrow, and it twinged every time he blinked.

  He was trying to decide if he had enough energy to heal it when he saw something move in the reflection behind him. He’d nearly forgotten about Kyleigh. “Are you as covered in salt —?”

  Everything: his breath, his question, his heart, caught in his throat. For the enormous beast he was tucked in next to was not Kyleigh at all.

  Fear gave him wings. He leapt up and tried to dart away, but his mind moved faster than his legs. He tripped over a log and fell hard on his elbow, cursing as he rolled over and got back on his feet. He was going to sprint into the woods, put as much distance between himself and the monster as possible, when a noise made him stop.

  It was low and light. A growl, but not ferocious. And for some reason, it embarrassed him.

  He turned slowly to face the beast that lay beside the fire. Its head was a little larger than a horse’s, topped with a pair of curved horns. Its body was easily the size of two horses. Long, crooked claws stretched out from each of its four legs. The front two were crossed and digging lazily into the dirt. A spiked tail coiled around its body, and the barbs that stuck out from it looked more than a match for any suit of armor. Enormous wings furled from its back. One was slightly bent over the spot where Kael had been sleeping.

  All fear left him, replaced swiftly by a feeling he could only describe as shock: it was a dragon — a real dragon.

  From the tip of i
ts long snout to the last barb on its tail, the dragon was covered in snow-white scales. The only part that wasn’t white was its eyes: they were green …

  No, it couldn’t be. But then the dragon turned its enormous head to look at a dagger sticking out of the ground, inches from its front claw. Kael checked his belt to be sure, but there was no denying the knife in the ground was his.

  “Kyleigh?”

  The dragon — she, Kyleigh — inclined her horned head, and her snout bent in what he could only describe as a smirk.

  “But … how?” He closed the space between them quickly. He couldn’t help it: he wanted a closer look. “Did the Witch curse you, too?” he guessed, but she shook her head.

  He was about to ask another question when she touched her snout to his hand. A picture flashed before his eyes, so sharp and fast that he jerked away.

  “What in Kingdom’s name was that?” he gasped.

  She looked highly annoyed with him. Give it a moment, and you’ll see what it is, her face clearly said.

  In the end, curiosity won out over his worry. He put his hands on either side of her scaly face and braced himself for what he was about to see.

  An image rose out of the darkness. He recognized the rocky canyon as Bartholomew’s Pass. A wolf monster leapt in front of him — its black eyes boring into his. A flash of white, hot blood spurted up into his face, and the monster lay dead. Then the scene changed: he saw himself leaning over a half-buried wolf, helping to lay the stones.

  He was so excited that he took his hands away, breaking their connection. “You’re like them. You’re a shapechanger, aren’t you?”

  She inclined her head, her eyes shining warmly. She was pleased that he’d guessed it so quickly.

  “Well, I’m not a total idiot.” But he was too thrilled to be angry with her.

  So this was Kyleigh’s great secret — the source of her power. And it all made sense: her ability to travel so quickly, her impossible strength … and her age. Roland told him once that shapechangers lived two lifetimes: their human years, and those of the animal whose shape they took. So if Kyleigh’s life was entwined with her dragon life, she could live for thousands of years …