by PT Hylton
“That’s not how they tell it in Arcadia.” He spoke quietly so only she could hear.
Abbey knew that the Arcadians had a less than positive view of the people of the Kaldfell peninsula. They called them Storm Raiders, and they told their children stories about how Storm Raiders would attack innocent villages by night, stealing everything valuable, including women and children, and using storm magic to cover their escape. It was preposterous, and yet, according to her father, people actually believed it.
Abbey often wondered why her father had decided to move here after a lifetime of hearing those tall tales. Or maybe that was why he’d moved here?
He didn’t like to talk about the past. Tears filled his eyes when he spoke about Abbey’s mother, so she never pushed him on the matter. One of these days, she was going to sit him down and get the real story.
A hand touched her arm, and she turned, expecting to see her father. To her surprise, Dustin stood behind her, his windblown hair a mess, and his eyes still bloodshot from the saltwater that morning.
He glared at her. “We need to talk. Now.”
****
Dustin led her out behind a tent off the beaten path where they weren’t likely to be seen. He was wearing a blue cloak and carrying the long, twisted staff of a Storm Caller.
“So, I take it the Testing went well?” Abbey asked.
“Not as well as I would have liked. That’s what I want to talk to you about. What the hell did you do out there?”
Abbey raised an eyebrow. “You saw my eyes were black. You really want to pretend you don’t know?”
Dustin grimaced. “I’m honestly not sure. I was swimming for shore, and the waves were really rough, and then… I don’t know. Something pulled me.”
“You were drowning is what happened. I saved you!” She placed her hands on her hips and stood tall.
“That’s impossible!” he hissed. “Storm Callers are blessed by the sea. We can’t drown.”
She began to get angry. It was one thing not to thank her, but it was another to pull her aside at the festival just to yell at her. “You call it what you want, you stubborn ass. The fact is, I saw your head go under, and it didn’t look like you were coming up again. So, I helped you out. I used magic to pull you toward shore.”
She could see in his eyes that he knew the truth in her words.
“You shouldn’t have done that,”
“I should have let you die?”
“Yes! If I drowned, that would have proven I wasn’t meant to be a Storm Caller. Now, I’m wearing the cloak and carrying the staff, but I’m not even sure I really passed the test. Do you know what will happen to me if they find out I had help on my Testing? They’ll string me up on a mast and let the crows have me.”
Abbey took a deep breath and put a hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “You need to calm the hell down. Nobody’s going to know. Besides, you’ve been the best Storm Caller your age since your first day as an apprentice. You told me that yourself. Back when you still talked to me.”
He looked away, ashamed. “I just wanted to help people. I want to protect the world from the Barskall. Now, everything’s messed up.”
“Who cares about some stupid Testing? You have the job you always wanted, right? Go do it.”
Dustin narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re an Arcadian.”
The words stung. Especially coming from him. “I’m not going to tell your damn secret if that’s what you’re worried about. “
“Thank you.” He sighed, looking away from her. “I shouldn’t have said that about you being an Arcadian. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
They stood there in awkward silence for a moment. Then they heard a gruff voice from a nearby tent.
“Where is that boy? He’s been a Storm Caller all of three hours, and he thinks he can just run off? It’s dereliction of duty, I tell you.”
Dustin winced. “I better go. Thanks again for not telling anyone what happened at the Testing.”
He turned and walked away without waiting for a response.
CHAPTER SIX
Abbey woke to a pounding sound just before sunrise. She sat up with a start.
They lived in small but comfortable quarters above the blacksmith’s shop. Abbey’s room was at the back, opposite the door where someone was knocking. She jumped out of bed and ran to the kitchen in the front of the apartment. Her father was already standing at the window. He wore a grim expression as he stared down into the street.
“Open up!” a deep voice called. “Don’t make us break down this door.”
Abbey squeezed in next to her father and looked into the street. What she saw made her gasp.
Six city guards stood gathered by the door. Two held torches, and all of them held swords.
“This can’t be good,” Abbey said.
Benjamin kept his eyes fixed on the guards. “In my experience, guards showing up at your house in the middle of the night is generally not a good thing.” He turned to Abbey. “I’m going to let them in. You stay up here. Don’t start any trouble unless I give you the signal. Understand?”
Abbey nodded.
As Benjamin went downstairs, Abbey scurried to her room and got her sword. The city guards worked for the Magistrate, which meant they could do just about anything they wanted. She’d never had any trouble with them personally, but she’d heard stories.
Sword in hand, she made her way to the top of the stairs and crouched in the shadows.
Benjamin opened the door. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
“Not for you, it isn’t,” the first guard snarled. He was wearing a more elaborate helmet, which Abbey took to mean he was in charge. “We know what you did.”
“Then you have me at a disadvantage. But if there’s a misunderstanding, I’m happy to discuss it.”
“There’s no misunderstanding.” The guard pushed past Benjamin, shoving his way inside. The other guards followed.
Abbey gripped her sword. Her father may have told her not to start any trouble, but she wasn’t going to let these jerks bully him.
“Please, come in.” Benjamin shut the door after the last guard stepped inside. “Care to tell me what this about?”
The head guard sneered at him. “I think you know. Care to tell us where you’ve been for the last two hours?”
“I’ve been asleep.”
“And can anyone verify that?”
Another guard chimed in. “Where’s that pretty daughter of yours?”
Abbey fought back the urge to show him exactly where she was, pointy end of her sword first. But she’d do as her father asked and stay quiet for now.
Benjamin held up his open hands, clearly trying to defuse the situation. “Gentlemen, please. Just tell me what you think I did.”
“Not think. Know.” The head guard marched up to him and leaned close to his face. “We know you murdered Bronson tonight. We just need to figure out why.”
Abbey sat up a bit straighter, shocked at the accusation. Bronson? The Magistrate’s son?
Her father blinked hard, clearly as surprised as she was. “I didn’t murder anyone. I barely even know Bronson. Why would I kill him?”
“That’s the very question we came here to answer.” The head guard nodded toward the biggest of his companions. “Tommy, if you would.”
The big guard stepped forward, drew back his mammoth fist, and slammed it into Benjamin’s stomach. The air rushed out of the blacksmith’s lungs, and he doubled over in pain.
Abbey started to stand, ready to lunge at the man who’d punched her father, but Benjamin looked toward her hiding place and gave his head the slightest of shakes. Rage filled Abbey, but she stayed put. For now. She knew she couldn’t watch much more of this without taking action.
“Now, let’s talk about this like civilized men.” The head guard grabbed Benjamin by the hair and raised his head so that their eyes met. “Why’d you kill Bronson?”
“I didn
’t.” Benjamin’s voice sounded weak, his breath still short. “If you’ll just tell me why you think I did, we can resolve this.”
Tommy started to step forward again, but the head guard held up a hand to stop him. “Let me make sure I understand. According to you, you did not kill Bronson. You were here for the past two hours. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” Benjamin wheezed.
“Interesting. Then answer one question for me. Where’s your sword?”
Abbey’s eyes darted to the spot behind the counter where the sword always hung. She had to put a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.
Her father’s sword was gone.
****
“We have your sword,” the head guard said. “Found it at the scene of the murder, covered in Bronson’s blood, lying next to his dead body.”
Abbey couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t just some misunderstanding. Someone had stolen her father’s sword and used it to commit murder. Not only that, but they’d left the sword at the crime scene. Why? Were they trying to set up her father? Who would want to do that?
“I think I’ve had enough of your lies for one night.” The head guard pointed to the spot where Benjamin’s sword usually hung. “The way I figure it, only two people had access to your sword. Either you killed Bronson, or your daughter did.”
Benjamin looked up at the guard, and for the first time tonight, there was real anger on his face. “Leave her out if this.”
The head guard laughed. “I don’t think so. As you might imagine, the Magistrate is a bit upset at tonight’s events. I don’t think it would be wise for us to come back with only one of the two suspects.” He turned toward two of the guards. “Go upstairs and find the girl.”
Benjamin looked toward the shadows at the top of the stairs and gave his head the slightest of nods.
A grim smile cut across Abbey’s face. She couldn’t wait to take these guys out.
From where she crouched in the shadows, she knew the guards wouldn’t be able to see her until they reached the bottom of the stairs. One of them was carrying a torch, and as soon as they started up the steps, the torchlight would hit her. She had to wait for the perfect moment to attack.
Benjamin was unarmed, and there were four guards around him, but he moved his hands into a position Abbey had seen hundreds of times. She knew what was coming. Those guards were in trouble.
Abbey drew a deep breath and waited.
The first guard stepped onto the bottom stair, and Abbey sprang into action.
She lunged down the stairs, launching her body through the air toward the guard who wasn’t carrying the torch. Her shoulder connected with his chest, and he fell onto his ass with a decidedly unmanly squeal. His body cushioned Abbey’s landing.
She quickly got her feet under her and spun toward the other guard. Her gaze settled on his torch, and she hesitated for a moment. As much as she wanted to gut this bastard, she didn’t want to burn down her home.
The guard had his sword in his other hand, and he thrust it at her. Abbey easily deflected the blow; then she struck at him with her own attack. He managed to block it, but his eyes widened in surprise at the strength behind her strike.
Abbey attacked again, and her opponent once again blocked, taking a step backward. She was driving him toward the front of the shop.
Behind him, the other guards were stepping forward, starting to come to his aid.
Benjamin twisted his hands in a quick but complicated pattern, and his eyes suddenly turned black. He raised both palms and pushed them forward as if shoving someone. All five standing guards were lifted off their feet and flew backward through the air. They all landed prone on the ground.
“Abbey, run,” Benjamin ordered.
She blinked hard in surprise. “What? No. We can take these guys.”
“And then what? They’ll just send more.”
Abbey couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What was he going to do? Just give up and go with them?
“Go to our friend. The collector. He’ll know what to do.”
She knew who he meant. “What about you?”
“I’ll go with them. It’s the only chance of clearing my name.”
Abbey looked at the guards. They were getting to their feet now.
The head guard glared at Benjamin. “Damned Arcadian magic.”
As much as she hated it, Abbey knew her father was right. They could defeat these guards, but probably not without killing at least a few of them. And then their lives in Holdgate would be over. It wouldn’t matter whether or not they were guilty of killing the Magistrate’s son.
Her father stared at her, his eyes pleading. “Abbey, go.”
She nodded briskly, her eyes filling with tears. She had to do this, as painful as it was. The last thing she saw before she reached the door was the black leaving her father’s eyes as he raised his hands in surrender.
Then, she went through the door and ran into the night.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dustin awoke to a loud knocking on his door. He groggily got out of bed and walked across the room while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It wasn’t a long journey. He would be moving to quarters more befitting his station as a Storm Caller in the coming days, but for now, he was still in the one-room apartment of an apprentice.
He opened the door and saw his new captain, Roy, standing there, wearing his usual goofy smile.
“Morning,” the captain said. “You weren’t still asleep, were you? The sun’s already up.”
“It was a late night. Please, come in.” He stepped aside to let Roy through.
The relationship between a Storm Caller and his captain was a complicated one. Technically, they were equals. Both had the power to vote for Magistrate, and neither had the power to remove the other from their position. Yet, the captain was the one in charge of the crew and the one who made the day-to-day decisions. As much as Dustin was skeptical of Roy as a Storm Captain, the man did have nearly two decades’ experience on stormships—almost half of that as a captain. No, he wasn’t Tor, but Dustin was determined to learn what he could from this man.
Roy made his way to the table in the corner and sat down. He motioned to Dustin to take the chair across from him. “Big happenings last night. You hear?”
Dustin shook his head as he sat down across from the captain. He’d left the festival in the wee hours of the morning after a rather indulgent night of celebrating with friends. He was feeling the effects of that celebration this morning. His head pounded, and he wished he’d thought to draw the curtains before going to bed the previous night.
He hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary when he’d left the festival. There were a lot of drunk Holdgatesmen, but there was nothing unusual about that. “What happened?”
Roy leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone. “Bronson was murdered.”
Dustin couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. The Magistrate’s son was a few years older than him, but Dustin knew him a little. He wasn’t an overly ambitious man; he seemed to be comfortable living off his father’s status. Yet, he was the life of every party he attended, and he was well liked for his good nature and friendly attitude. “Did it happen at the festival?”
Roy shook his head. “It was in his home. Someone climbed through a window and took a sword to him.”
Dustin let out a soft whistle. It might have made sense if it had happened at the festival. Tempers sometimes flared when the mead was flowing like it had been last night. But in his home? Who would want to murder Bronson? A jealous husband, perhaps? The man was known for his charms with the ladies.
“Get this,” Roy said. “They’re saying the Arcadian blacksmith did it.”
Dustin’s eyes widened in surprise. “Benjamin?”
“You know another Arcadian blacksmith? They’re looking for his daughter, too. I guess she ran off when the city guard tried to question her.”
“Damn.” Dustin had practically grown up in that blacksmith shop. He cou
ldn’t imagine Benjamin doing such a thing. And poor Abbey. He knew there was no way she could have had anything to do with this.
Roy cleared his throat. “I didn’t come here solely to spread gossip. We received our orders.”
Dustin sat up straighter, thoughts of Abbey pushed from his mind. “Where are we going?”
“There’s intelligence that some Barskall ships broke through the storms and landed up near Bode. You know it?”
Dustin nodded. He’d memorized every town on the Kaldfell coast as part of his apprenticeship.
“It’s rumored to be a sizable force,” Roy said. “That many Barskall on Kaldfell… we’re not taking any chances with a situation like that.”
Dustin waited, willing himself not to speak. Was Roy about to say what he thought he was going to say?
“We’re sending Thunderclap, of course. As well as a couple of others. Probably Summer Wind and High Tide.”
Those two ships often traveled with Thunderclap, Dustin knew.
“Tor figures the three of them to be enough, but the rest of us… well, like I said, we don’t want to take any chances. Better to have too many than too few.” Roy scratched at his chin. “I knew you wanted to try your hand in a real fight, so I threw our hat in the ring.”
Dustin wanted to leap up and hug the man. He’d assumed The Foggy Day would spend the next few months cruising the same fishing routes he’d been traveling his entire apprenticeship. But to learn they’d not only be going into a fight, but that they’d be doing it alongside Tor…
He’d be Storm Calling next to Dahlia!
Roy’s smile was even wider than usual. “You sure you’re ready for this?”
Dustin didn’t hesitate with his reply. “I’m ready.”
“Good. Then I thought we might spend the day down at the ship. You can meet the crew, and I can give you the grand tour.”
“Absolutely.” Dustin started to stand, then an image popped into his mind: Abbey under the docks, her eyes black, as she pulled him from the ocean.
He’d never even thanked her. Not really.
She’d rescued him in his time of need. Now, she needed help. Who was going to rescue her? He knew the answer to that question. She was an outsider. An Arcadian. No one would lift a finger for her sake.
