Mage’s Legacy: Cursed Seas

by hamilton, rebecca

  Kerina sprinted toward them and quickly sprayed the milky sap in both of their eyes, but that alone was not enough. Despite them shouting a few curse words at her, they didn’t let that interfere with the upper hand they still had with the siren. With Gabriel already pinned, they knew where to send their blows. It appeared they were going to wait until they were through with him before worrying about their lost vision, and by then, the effect would have worn off.

  It was going to take more than some milky sap to save him.

  She tried pushing the men off Gabriel, but her wiry arms proved futile against such large brutes. She didn’t have time to find the stone she’d had earlier, which hadn’t done her much good either, which meant she would have to use momentum.

  This was going to hurt.

  She took as many steps back as she could fit in the small apothecary, then hopped a little before running full force at the man on top of Gabriel. As she drove forward, colliding with him, she caught a fist in her shoulder and felt the joint pop out of place. The bandit made an oomph noise as they tumbled to the floor. She scrambled off the bandit as he flailed on the floor, yelling and still unable to see.

  Gabriel rolled out of the way of the other bandit and sprang to his feet. Even over the commotion, Kerina could hear how labored his breaths were. He limped over to where she was, looking as if he was about to say something, but just frowned instead.

  She nodded, an unspoken understanding between them. The bandits couldn’t see them, as they blindly threw punches around the room and fell over counters, boxes, furniture, and each other, but they would hear Kerina and Gabriel if they made a sound.

  After getting his wet cloth between his teeth again, Gabriel grabbed some rope from under the counter. One by one, he tied up the men, who were unable to fight back effectively without the ability to see. As Gabriel tied the last one, the bandit threw his head back, catching Gabriel in the chin and splitting his lip against his tooth. The blood dribbled from his mouth onto the wet cloth, but oddly, Gabriel laughed, the sound muffled by the cloth but still unmistakable.

  As Kerina watched him work, she popped her shoulder back into place the way she used to have to do back in the village when someone thought it clever to beat her for the way she looked.

  The thought was just another reminder of why she needed to get away from this place. Another reminder of why she couldn’t tell Gabriel the truth.

  She began collecting the herbs they would need to heal their wounds as well as the potions they would need to put these men down—at least until they left this place.

  She hobbled over to Gabriel and handed him some herbs for himself, then poisoned the lips of the now tied-up bandits. They struggled for a few moments, then calmed. Soon, they were asleep.

  “We don’t have a lot of time before they wake,” Kerina told Gabriel, who was staring at her with the strangest expression. Was it awe?

  “Then we should go,” he said. “Together. With your magic, we can save my people.”

  “My magic?” she asked.

  He waved his hand toward the unconscious bandits. “Blinding magic. The power to put grown men to sleep with a drop of your magic potion. This is why only a mage can save us.”

  Oh, no. He was her way out of this place...but she couldn’t fake magic with herbs forever.

  “Gabriel, I’m not—”

  “Don’t say no. Please. My people need you. You might not think you’re the right mage for this job, but I know you are. I can see it. I just did see it.”

  Kerina eyed the unconscious bandits warily. Without Anja, she couldn’t stay here. And Gabriel probably was better off with some help rather than none. But was pretending to be the mage—and giving this man false hope of her being able to do more than she was truly capable—crossing a line?

  The African grey squawked from the other room. “You cannot swim for new horizons until you have the courage to lose sight of the shore.”

  The silly bird was right, she realized. There was nothing left for her here anymore.

  “Your land is dying, too,” Gabriel said when she didn’t answer. “It’s not just my people who will be doomed. The stone will save all of us.”

  She ground her teeth. If she told him she wasn’t the mage, he might not even try to find the stone. And he was right. Everyone was doomed if they didn’t find it. They had to at least try.

  “Okay,” she said finally. “I will go with you. For your people, and for mine.”

  He couldn’t seem happier than he did in that moment, but Kerina couldn’t feel worse. Somehow, she would need to help him, and somehow, she would need to keep secret the fact she was not the mage. That the mage was dead, and that there was no hope.

  All there was, at best, was a few more months of survival.

  Chapter 7

  Gabriel did not draw his first deep breath until they were finally out of sight of land.

  Repairing and outfitting the small boat Kerina had purchased had taken several days. Loading it with food and supplies for the months-long journey across the Atlantic Ocean had required innumerable trips between Kerina’s house and the boat, his arms filled with jars of dried roots, leaves, and flowers, all carefully wrapped in waxed paper. Her mortar and pestle weighed a great deal, but she had refused to leave it behind. He had also loaded baskets filled with dried fruit and meat, as well as blankets for warmth.

  When Gabriel and Kerina finally set out, the boat was almost too heavy to push, but the riptides worked in their favor, carrying the boat out beyond the white-capped waves and the reef into calmer water.

  He set his shoulder against the hull, both steering and propelling the boat through the water, for neither Kerina nor he knew anything about sailing. She did, however, know how to put up the sail, and as long as he could turn the boat in the water, they would be able to catch the wind, which would speed their journey.

  In the several days of preparation, Kerina had done or said nothing that would make him fear that she would change her mind, but still, he worried that she would. After all, what had he offered her but a desperate plea for help? How could that possibly be enough? When would she realize the sheer enormity of what lay ahead of them? Never mind finding and restoring the Legacy Stone. Just crossing the ocean would take weeks, even months.

  With no certainty of arriving at their destination.

  Kerina sat at the bow of the boat, her white-knuckled grip tight on the gunwale. Her gaze remained fixed on the fading shore long after her home was no longer visible, and finally, even that sliver of land vanished.

  Nothing but the ocean on all sides, the deep blue of the endless sky reflected off the glass-calm seas.

  It would not last. Gabriel knew better than to hope for an easy voyage.

  A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. He had no illusions the trip back would be easier than his journey to find Kerina. The surface of the ocean was wilder, and in some ways, more dangerous than the deep, but diving into the depths to evade trouble was no longer an option for him. He had to protect Kerina; it was the unspoken trade they had made.

  As he raised himself out of the water, Kerina’s wild-eyed gaze flicked to him. “Is it always this rough?”

  Rough? The waves—they couldn’t even be called waves—were barely an inch high. He had the wisdom to conceal a smile, and the foresight to couch the truth. “The waves are almost always largest closest to shore. It’ll be easier here on out. Why don’t you get some rest?”

  “Don’t you need someone keeping watch?” she asked.

  “Captain Jack Sparrow,” the parrot added. “Mutiny on the Bounty.”

  Gabriel tilted his head. “What is that? What does he mean?”

  Kerina tapped the parrot on the back of its feathered head and jerked her hand back before the bird could nip her fingers. “I don’t pretend to understand anything it says. How long before we get to South America?”

  “It took me three weeks to get here. I expect it’ll take longer to get back.”

 
; “Oh…” Kerina looked around at the neat stacks of woven baskets at the stern of the boat, each filled with dried food. “That’s a long time to be eating the same thing, day after day.”

  Gabriel laughed. “Do you like fish?”

  Her eyes brightened. “Do I—oh, I love fish, but the ones near the shore were all tiny babies, and the ones in the river, too. Once I caught a fish, larger than most. I dressed it with herbs and roasted it over the fire. Just in time for Anja’s birthday, too—”

  She suddenly caught herself and fell silent. Her laughter faded as her shoulders tensed, her gaze darting to the side.

  Anja, whoever she was, must have meant a great deal to Kerina.

  “I can bring you fish,” he said, and was surprised when the tightness in his chest eased at her sudden smile.

  “I don’t suppose we could build a fire in this boat, though.” She looked across the entire length of their twelve-foot vessel. It was only half as wide, but its stern was covered. A thick layer of blankets would provide Kerina with a makeshift bed—cramped, but warm.

  “I wouldn’t recommend it,” Gabriel said. “Unless you can enchant yourself into breathing underwater?”

  She giggled. “I don’t think so.” She scrunched her nose. “But I don’t much fancy dried fish as a variation to a diet of dried fruit and dried meat. Oh, wait!” She darted away from her spot in the bow of the boat and opened the covers of several baskets, searching for something. “Limes!” She held up a small green fruit. “I knew I brought them. I’ll use them to cook the fish.”

  “Cook the fish…” Gabriel echoed. With a fruit? He shrugged. Kerina was a mage. She had already done so many amazing things. Cooking raw fish with a fruit and without fire was nothing compared to the other things she had done right before his eyes.

  “So…” She grinned at him. “About that fish…”

  He laughed then ducked his head under the water for a quick look. There were no shoals nearby, but he saw some in the distance. He broke the surface of the water again. “Do you have a knife?”

  “You hunt with knives?”

  “A spear, usually, but I lost mine on the way out here.”

  Kerina unrolled a long piece of leather, each fold revealing a different set of kitchen and garden tools. She held up a long-bladed knife. “Will this work?”

  “Perfect.” He took it from her, then smiled. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  He dived again, swimming easily and freely. His ankle had healed, thanks to Kerina’s care, but the days he had spent on land had felt like a trap, his freedom of movement severely constrained.

  He had not realized how much he had missed the ocean until he returned. His lungs no longer burned; his skin no longer felt hot and taut, squeezing in upon his flesh. Back in the ocean, his muscles stretched and contracted in the instinctive, undulating movement that propelled him through the water.

  A small shoal of fish scattered as he approached, but he was faster than the fish. His blade slashed down. Water swirled in a frenzy around him, but when the skittering currents caused by the fish rippled away, he had his prey pinned on the end of his knife. It still wriggled. He pushed the knife in deeper; he did not think Kerina would appreciate a still-moving fish dumped at her feet.

  Gabriel looked around, the endless expanse of blue all around him.

  He belonged nowhere else.

  When he resurfaced next to the boat, Kerina blinked at him. “You’re back. Already?”

  He swept his wet hair away from his face and pulled up the sea bass. It was two feet long—not large, but a substantial enough meal for two. “So, can you show me how you cook with fruit?”

  Kerina’s eyebrows drew together. “Do you really eat your fish raw?”

  “What other way is there?”

  “Eww… Okay, first, I’ll have to clean and gut the fish—”

  “Keep talking. I need to adjust our direction.” Gabriel swam back to the stern of the boat and threw his weight against the hull, shifting the boat until it caught the wind.

  “Are you going to have to keep doing that?” she asked.

  He nodded. “We wouldn’t want to accidentally head too far south. You’re not dressed for the cold.”

  “But if you have to keep steering the ship, how will you sleep?”

  “In small snatches.”

  “In the water? But aren’t you worried about drifting away from the boat while you sleep?”

  He winced at the edge of fear in her voice. “There’s rope in the boat. I’ll tie my wrist or ankle to the boat when I sleep. I’ll never be more than a few feet away.” He smiled, wishing he could do more to allay her scarcely-concealed panic at being over open water. It was easier when she was distracted, and talking seemed to help with that. “So...about that fish?”

  “Oh, right.”

  She efficiently scraped off the scales and cleaned out the fish’s internal organs as if she had been doing it all her life. As she worked, she described each step of what she did, but her words mattered less than just hearing her speak.

  Gabriel listened, almost hypnotized by the musical quality of her voice. Sound was obviously different when carried by air instead of water, but he had heard other humans speak, and none seemed to have that lyrical tune that her voice possessed. Even when she was snapping back at the parrot, the sing-song quality took the anger out of her retort.

  “Here, try this.” She held a piece of fish out to him.

  He sampled it slowly, holding it on the tip of his tongue

  Kerina burst out laughing. “Don’t look like I’m going to poison you.”

  Gabriel barely managed to swallow it.

  “It’s different…” he said, not wanting to insult her.

  “Is that the best compliment you can come up with?”

  “It doesn’t even taste like sea bass.”

  “The acid in the lime breaks down the protein structure—you have no idea what I’m saying, do you?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t understand magic.”

  “It’s not—” She waved her hand dismissively. “Never mind. It is excellent fish, though. Are you sure you don’t want some?”

  “How about the non-magicked slices?”

  “Fine.” She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she sliced off large chunks of the sea bass and handed it back to him. She shuddered as he ate, but he was almost certain the dramatic motion was mostly for show.

  Her smile deepened, and something in her eyes gentled.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “You look so different without that cloth held to your mouth. It’s good to hear you speak easily, and even laugh,” Kerina said. “Back on land, you couldn’t even chuckle without coughing.”

  “I don’t how you humans handle all that dry air.”

  Kerina shrugged. “Possibly because it’s all we’ve ever really known. Although, I must say, I like the moisture.” She tugged the band off her braid and combed her fingers through her hair, loosening them into curls. “Look, they’re not as tight as they usually are.”

  Gabriel stared at her, although on some level, he knew it was impolite. He had never seen Kerina’s hair set free from the constraining braid. Her tight curls were nothing like the long-flowing siren tresses he was most familiar with. He leaned forward, but caught himself before he got close.

  Kerina smiled shyly. “Do you want to touch my hair?”

  “How did you know?”

  She laughed softly. “You looked like it. And your fingers twitched.”

  Carefully, he touched her hair. Her curls were soft, yet springy. They bounced back when he pressed on them.

  “It’s like they’re alive…” he murmured, fascinated.

  “Yes, and never in a good way,” Kerina grumbled. “That’s why I usually keep them braided.” She looked around at the ocean, then squinted up at the sky, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Without the stars to navigate by, how do you know which way is north?”

  “I just do. All si
rens do.”

  “Perhaps you have a bit of magic of your own.”

  “If indeed we do, all of that magic came from the mages,” he said. “The sirens have lived in the ocean for so many generations that sometimes, we forget how close our ties were to humans—that we were once them.”

  “But the ocean’s so vast, so empty…” she said, her tone slipping toward melancholy.

  “Not below the surface.” He laid his hand over hers because he could not bear how lonely she looked. “I wish I could show it to you.”

  Her gaze flicked back to his. Their eyes met, and she forced a smile, as if shoving her quiet ache back down where it could not be seen. “Didn’t you say there were monsters down there?”

  “There are, but fortunately, few of them come up to the surface. We’ll have more to worry about from pirates than from the creatures of the deep.”

  “What would pirates want with a boat this small? There’s practically nothing here of any value to them.”

  You’re valuable, he wanted to say, but checked himself in time. There was no point in escalating her fear and uncertainty—even if it was the truth.

  * * *

  As days passed, Gabriel and Kerina settled into a rhythm. During the most brutal heat of the day, Gabriel slept for a few hours, drifting on the currents under the boat, tethered to it by a rope tied to his ankle. In the afternoon, he hunted for fish, then spent hours pushing and steering the boat through the night and into the morning, stopping only when the sun was once again high in the sky and the heat, beating down on him, became too uncomfortable.

  Kerina, on the other hand, slept for part of the night, staying awake through the afternoon when he rested. It gave him comfort to know that someone was on watch when he was asleep, although he missed talking to her when she slept and there was no sound around him but of water, lapping gently against the hull of the boat.