Toff looked confused, but he bent his head obediently, allowing the princess to touch him.
Ileana placed her hand on the top of Toff’s head, and Dain watched as a bright glow emanated from her palm. The old man’s expression flicked from horror to sheer joy in a matter of seconds. Dain remembered that feeling. Ileana had healed him once before; the renewal was impactful.
When the princess removed her fingers, Toff let out a loud cackle, bouncing from one foot to another to show off his healed ankle. Then he bowed and said, “If this is what comes of meeting a princess, then I am up for more royal introductions.”
Everyone laughed, the tension on deck easing perceptibly.
Dain didn’t want to go anywhere near The Wildflower attendees, so he led Ileana toward the friends she’d already met: Sable, Tars, and Casper.
Opening her arms wide, Ileana said, “It is my great pleasure to see you all again, my friends.”
Sable came forward to give the princess a gentle embrace.
Casper and Tars hung back, simply bowing their heads in greeting. Their eyes, however, stayed firmly fixed on Ileana—admiration rife. Tars was reserved on most days, but this kind of reservation was rare for Casper. The man could charm the fins off a shark, so the fact that he hesitated before the princess made Dain feel a little less foolish about his own response to her beauty.
After Sable and Ileana had exchanged warm greetings, the princess stepped away to turn herself toward the captain of The Wildflower.
Dain hung back, grinding his teeth.
Ileana offered a hand of greeting to Alis. “It is an honor to meet you, Captain, but I feel as though we’ve already met. Your work precedes you—I’ve learned much from it.”
Alis Alloway gave a low, graceful bow, and her crew members followed suit. Her greeting, however, wasn’t quite so graceful. “I’ve seen many things in my lifetime, but none so rare as you. May I examine you, Princess? How is this kind of imprisonment accomplished? Can it be undone? You must be studied.”
Dain couldn’t hold his tongue. “The Princess is not a test subject, nor a specimen to be examined, Captain Alloway.” Her title tasted sour on his tongue. “She is a person, a real person.” He felt Sable squeezing his arm again, and though he knew she was trying to help, he wasn’t interested in being restrained.
This time, Alis’s face didn’t soften when she looked at him. “I merely wish to help, Captain.”
Before Dain could retort, Ileana slid in, her voice smooth. “Your offer is generous, and perhaps one day we’ll have the opportunity, but for now, there are more urgent matters to discuss—”
The princess’s words were cut short as The Maiden’s hull rocked violently to one side.
Everyone was thrown apart.
Dain scrambled for some kind of handhold as the damp sea air chilled, becoming unbearably frigid. It felt like a cold he’d experienced before.
They were here.
4
The ship leveled as a large black blur took form in the sky beyond the fog. Dain stumbled to his feet, eyes transfixed on the dark, airborne mass as his body began to shiver uncontrollably. Had the stalkers somehow devised a way to traverse the skies? Dain squinted through the fog—he saw no red cloak, and instead of the typical stalker-induced fear that made their victims flee, this approaching mass diffused a frozen, immobilizing terror. This time, Dain only wished he could run. He stood helplessly rigid as icy sweat poured down his back, and his fear doubled when in his peripheral vision he glimpsed a pale hand reaching toward him. It took an immense effort to shift his eyes away from the oncoming mass to see that the albino child, Leara An, now stood by his side. Her fuchsia eyes were uncomfortably fierce and, surprisingly, clear. Dain almost couldn’t decide which was worse—her depthless, fear-free gaze, or the impending doom above. Either way, he could do nothing to resist.
It was instantaneous. The minute the girl’s fingers touched his forearm, the frozen horror dissolved. The relief was such that he sagged toward the girl, but she shoved him back while quietly commanding, “Fog.”
Dain’s power leaped, the talent raging beneath his skin responding with instant fervor to the girl’s orders. The elements didn’t even resist her. And as the dark creature in the sky above drew closer, the girl manipulated his talent to gather whatever warmth was in the air directly around the ship. The effect was a clash of hot and cold that resulted in an even thicker encasement of fog. Dain was horrified when he realized that the child was in complete control of him and his power. But when the fog was sufficiently solid, she released him, letting him stumble backward as she disappeared like a ghost into the mist.
The demon-induced fear did not return.
The heavy air around him shone with a putrid, lantern-lit glow as Dain moved silently forward, arms extended, blindly seeking Sable and the others. Unfortunately, it was his mother he happened upon first. He could see from the clarity of her gray eyes that the albino child had gotten to her as well. Alis’s voice was low, nearly a whisper. “I think we should get down to a rowboat, get closer to the water. Hopefully whatever that oncoming demon is, it’s as afraid of the sea as stalkers are.”
As though in answer, a steel-on-stone voice peeled through the night air above them. The sound differed from the stalkers’ voices in Alloway Manor. It was louder, deeper, and ten times more unnerving. “There is nowhere to hide, prey. Stay where you are, surrender, and you will live.”
Giving Dain a hard shove backward, Alis said, “Find them—get them all to the rowboat. Now.” Then she ran in the opposite direction, disappearing into the fog as she called, “I hear you, demon! Come find me, if you dare.”
A sour screech tore through the damp-curtained world, the sound angling toward his mother’s loud taunts. Despite being relieved of the demon’s fear, Dain shivered at the noise before his thoughts fixed again on Sable. Was she safe? Biting his tongue to prevent calling for her, Dain waved his hands in front of himself as he groped forward. He hadn’t gotten far before someone grasped him from behind and whispered in his ear. “I know my way round this ship blindfolded; the port side ladder is there.” Mo turned Dain bodily in the direction indicated. “Take Lydia and get her down to the rowboat while I gather the others.” The first mate pushed Lydia’s hand into Dain’s and then gave them both a strong nudge. “Straight on ahead, walk careful. Go.” Mo dissolved into the fog as well.
Lydia squeezed Dain’s hand, giving him a curt nod to indicate he should follow Mo’s orders. It seemed everyone was giving orders besides himself. Dain was starting to wonder if he was even captain of The Maiden anymore.
He heard Alis’s taunts ring out again from one end of the ship, and then seconds later her call came again from the other. It felt as though her voice was being amplified from every corner of the galleon, no doubt some trick of alchemy.
The steely screeches pealed in continual frustration.
Dain was desperate to call out for Sable, to seek her first before heading to the rowboat. It was hard for him to trust that Mo would retrieve her safely. What would he do if anything happened to her?
They were practically on top of it before the rail edge came into view. And at the top of the ladder stood Casper, arms beckoning and urging them silently forward. Dain took a deep breath, hoping Sable was already in the boat. Casper reached for Lydia, grabbing both her hands and swinging her fast toward the ladder. His friend then urged Dain to follow, but he waved the sailor down ahead. Casper obeyed with a questioning glance, then followed Lydia below. Dain could see that the fog was slowly beginning to thin again. He wasn’t ready to abandon anyone still on board, but before he had a chance to renew the thick display, Mo stepped out of the blanket with Anira and Ileana in tow.
The first mate moved fast toward the edge, his voice low in Dain’s ear as they passed. “I believe that’s everyone besides Captain Alloway. Let’s get below, lad.”
Dain sighed in quiet relief. “Get in the boat—I’ll find a way to guide the captain to us
.”
Mo gave him a concerned frown, but Dain only stared firmly back. It was his turn to give the orders. And while there was no love lost between him and his mother, he wouldn’t leave anyone behind, not even her.
Listening closely to the loud jeers, Dain tried to decipher which voice was real and which was not. It was a gamble, but in the end, he focused in on the most fierce among the multitude, and reached for the elements. Like always, the wind leaped to his call. Funneling the breeze into a small spiral, Dain pushed it forward, tunneling low through the fog. A swirling path took form, and thankfully his gamble paid off. The captain of The Wildflower stood near the helm, gray-blonde curls whipping in the newly created wind.
Dain’s stomach lurched when he saw that Sable stood right beside her. Her hands were outstretched in a defensive position, like she was ready to shift anything that came into view. Why hadn’t she just shifted them out? Perhaps she was waiting until everyone else was safe, or maybe she was afraid her shift would draw the creature nearer? Shifting people was a much greater task than shifting a tray of food; it would produce a strong magical lure.
The two women were slow to note the tunnel he’d created, but eventually Sable spied it, and he beckoned her furiously.
Grabbing Alis’s hand, Sable yanked the smaller blonde toward Dain. The alchemic taunts ended abruptly, and it was mere seconds before a chilling threat echoed through the night air again. “I see you.”
The fog was lifting fast now. Dain abandoned the wind, desperately switching, trying to heat the air and thicken their coverage, but he was too unpracticed, too slow.
A dark blur sliced through the sky above Sable and Alis.
Dain dropped everything, running toward them, arms desperately reaching through the space between, trying to will Sable to himself.
A black claw grasped her hair.
Sable screamed.
Alis’s fingers were ripped from the girl’s grasp. Dain watched his mother jump, grappling desperately, her fingers managing to land on the Dernamn that dangled from Sable’s throat. Alis held fast, feet hanging in the air beneath the frantic girl. Dain could barely make out Sable’s hands, but he knew she was attempting to shift as he ran. The demon was too fast. A second clawed arm clamped Sable’s hands together before she could sign. She screamed again.
Then the chain snapped.
Alis tumbled to the deck, and Sable soared upward with the demon as the ship rocked violently to one side again.
When Dain regained his footing the fog had dissipated to normal levels, and he frantically searched the empty skies. Though he could barely breathe, he started to scream. “Sable! No, no, Sable!”
He felt Alis grab his shirt sleeve.“We need to go, let’s move. It might be back.” Her pull became more insistent. “Dain!” Tearing his eyes away from the sky, he yanked himself free from Alis’s grasp and spotted the Dernamn in her other hand.
Reaching fast, he snatched it from her palm, voice threateningly low. “This? You couldn’t save her, but you could save this?”
“Dain, listen to me, this is not the time. We need to get to the rowboat, now.”
Reason no longer applied. His loss quickly transforming into a rage, a madness sourced from that chasm that lives within everyone, but most wisely choose to avoid. Dain ignored his mother’s continued cries as he reached for the elements. The wind flew in a cataclysmic rage, and a gloriously dark tempest gathered fast.
He would tear that flying demon from the skies.
He would raze the world until he found her.
Dain barely felt the fingers—
Then, nothing.
His arms fell limp. He stood motionless, staring. The only thing Dain knew, the only thing he saw, were fuchsia eyes set close in a pale moon face.
Not fuchsia, no, thickly lashed hazel. Dain nearly bolted out of the bunk as he reached out. “Sable?” She didn’t smell right—no herbs, no rose water.
Strong arms pushed him back.
Dain’s eyes focused on Tars. The man was holding him firmly at arm’s length, but after a moment, the alchemist-healer released him by stepping back. Surveying the unfamiliar cabin, Dain noted that it was small and oppressive, and for some reason it smelled distinctly like a prison—they were aboard The Wildflower. By the way the ship swayed, he could tell it well out to sea.
It was hard to look at Tars again, but when Dain finally made eye contact, he saw only grief. He clenched his fists. “Why did they send you?” It was a stupid, cold question.
Tars had always been a man of few words, so his longer-than-usual response was surprising. “You know why they sent me, Captain. We’ve both lost something—precious.” His tone was not cold; in fact, it exuded a near-brotherly affection.
Dain ignored it. “Well, if we’ve both lost something precious, then why are we trapped on this ship and not back in Aalta trying to save her?”
Tars shook his head, weary pain etched through every line of his face. “You know the answer to that.”
“Do I?” Dain raised himself off the bunk, his body more rigid than the stone prison Elden bore. “I remember a time when you nearly strangled me to death because you thought you were protecting your sister. What happened to that man? Where did he go?” They’d never spoken of that incident after the fact, and Dain knew it was callous to bring it up now. Tars had been convinced that Dain and Toff were holding Sable captive. Dain himself had led the man to believe it—it’d been the only way to persuade him to follow at the time.
Sable’s brother refused to meet his gaze, looking instead toward the cabin’s porthole. “I understand your anger, sir. When I lost her in Tallooj, I felt exactly the same way—but she came back to me.” His throat caught. “I have to believe she’ll come back again.”
Dain launched himself forward. “What are you saying? We should just sit back and let the demon have her? We need to go back, we need to save her!”
Tars was the larger of the two, and Dain’s emotional instability had set him off balance. It was easy for the alchemist-healer to grasp his wrists and wrestle his arms into a vice-like hug.“She is beyond our reach—she’s a stalker now. They didn’t kill her, Captain—they took her. They will have turned her…” Tars’s voice cracked. “The only way we get her back is to end this. We have to win this war. It’s our only hope of saving her—of saving us all.” He was crying openly now, his strength giving way to emotion as his knees buckled.
It was Dain’s turn to grasp his friend, pulling the man up before he dragged them both to the floor. Tars’s sobs were enough to awaken an old coping mechanism inside Dain, a strategy he’d conjured after his father had been murdered and his life had been thrown into chaos. Back then, he’d shoved all the sorrow deep inside, trying to no longer feel, and the temptation to do so again was strong. But before he could, Mo’s words came to mind, or a paraphrase of them. “There’s no coffin in your heart, lad. Suppressed emotion will not die; it’ll only fester until it finds itself a nasty way out. It was true. Dain had taken that path months before, and it had gone all wrong. And yet, the alternative felt unbearable. How could he face this kind of pain, this kind of loss? He’d never even told her he loved her.
Dain let Tars slump to the floor, only to follow him shortly after.
5
Eyes tight, Sable tried to ignore the iced talons cutting into her forearms, the great claws whipping her through the frigid night air like a ragdoll in a willful child’s grasp. A violent shudder wracked her swinging frame. Since when did stalkers fly? Against the pain, against the cold terror, Sable willed her eyes open, looking up. The light of the three moons backlit the dark creature’s body and features, but she could still see the glint of its oversized eyes and the enormous, hair-covered wings that beat heavily above—this was no stalker. She shuddered again, lowering her gaze with a hard, dry swallow. Was this creature another terror-imbued abomination, something that had once been human but turned? The thought made her nauseous, then piteously angry. How many adept
had suffered this fate?
Her tear-filled eyes dipped to the world below, but nothing was visible. She gave thanks for the darkness—at least she didn't have to endure the heights. Steadying her breath to a slower, more even pace, Sable tried to reduce the demon-induced fear. It helped, a little. Her captor must have needed her alive or she'd have been dead already, but—why? And where was it taking her? If only her hands were free, she'd shift away in seconds—how far was she from The Maiden—
Sable’s breathing grew erratic again, her thoughts tumbling into a mess of half questions and broken theories. The world seemed to whirl around her, like they were traveling much faster than an average bird could manage. The force of it all made her fight for consciousness, and the pain and frozen terror stole time away.
Then she heard them—the screams.
They tore through the night air like the very fabric of the world was being ripped in two—she’d never heard anything more heart-wrenching, and her tears froze to her cheeks as her head sank. The screaming grew louder, closer. Sable’s vision clouded; she could barely make out the dark stones barreling up toward her. The minute her feet touched down, her head swam and the world blurred to black.
6
The Maiden, along with The Wildflower, had set sail at dawn after the attack, heading south. The escape had been rushed, so they planned to stop at the nearest port on the southern tip of Zaal to restock and prepare for the longer journey ahead. Tars said the unpredictable weather patterns of late winter had seemed like less of a risk than remaining at port in Aalta. The decision to sail had been unanimous. Mo had captained The Maiden in Dain’s absence, and some of the crew from The Wildflower were helping to man the ship. Dain had been kept in Captain Alis’s “protective custody”—apparently his irrational actions had endangered himself and others, and he’d been deemed unfit to return as captain for the time being. The entire affair was Alis’s doing. She was once again inserting herself as head of the Alloway Trading Company, and Dain could only hope she hadn't somehow replaced Thornwalsh before they left. Tars said that Mo had argued against the arrangement, but Dain knew his first mate was an obedient sailor to the core; he always had been. So, when it came right down to it, Alis Alloway was Mo’s second employer, and Morgan Crouse would never mutiny.
The Lion of the Sea (The Maiden Ship Book 2) Page 3
