The Lion of the Sea (The Maiden Ship Book 2)

by Micheline Ryckman

  Then he saw it: an ice-blue glimmer barreling through the water toward him. If his heart had been beating fast before, it now practically leaped from his chest. Apparently he’d be spared the horror of hypothermia or drowning, because a sea monster had come to claim him first.

  11

  Sable stared, brows tight, at the towering rock walls of her cell.

  It was time to die.

  She'd been planning it for weeks now, her death. Day after exhausting day, she was pushed to her limits, her adjuration talent honed and grown. The emperor had told the truth the day she’d been taken—she would bring him victory. And with it, the destruction of the four kingdoms.

  Death was her only option now; there was no other escape. Not only was she magically tethered to Idris and locked in a fortress full of stalkers and soldiers, but there was little chance anyone would be coming for her—no one even knew where she was. Dain, Tars, and the others probably believed her dead, or worse, turned. The thought made her quake internally. She’d seen how it was done—the turning—she’d been a captive audience, and now she knew the source of the nightly screams.

  An underground coven of adept, who’d avoided capture for years in southern Iandior, had been discovered and brought north as building blocks for Valir’s stalker army. They hadn’t all been Iandiorian, though; some of them had the pointed ears and tanned skin, but others looked like they hailed from various kingdoms. Sable had wondered if these were the very men and women Alis Alloway had set upon finding—she wondered if Valir had found them first.

  She’d been forced to watch as dozens of them were dragged, naked in chains, before the emperor and his witch. Sable didn’t know what else to call the woman—it seemed like the only fitting title. Her hair was as white as Idris’s, but her skin was the color of earth. She reminded Sable of Dain’s dreams, but she was nothing like the kind woman Dain dreamed about. The screaming started the minute the witch began to sing. The adept before her writhed to get away as their forms quickly grew, muscles bursting along their spines, turning black, contorting. Their hands elongating with their limbs, turning into sharp, pointed claws at the fingertips. The worst part was their faces. It was almost like they were erased—no eyes, no nose, no mouth, just a void of screeching darkness. Bile rose to her throat—her parents had suffered that fate…

  Blinking back tears, Sable tried to suppress the memories by shifting her gaze toward her ever-constant companion. The boy was hunched on the chair next to her cot, the flesh rope tied between their wrists stretched to its limits as he shoveled a few pocketed leftovers into his mouth. The child didn’t have a bed like her; in fact, he never slept at all. Somehow, Valir kept him suspended, constantly awake. Apparently the emperor was willing to take every necessary precaution to keep his greatest military asset, Sable, secure. Idris was obviously expendable because the suspension, and the constant use of his talent, was bound to kill him eventually. Perhaps Valir hoped the child would last just long enough to get the job done. The stalker army was near completion, and Sable’s own talent grew stronger with every session—this meant that the emperor’s invasion wasn’t far off. All the more reason to die, today.

  Of late, Idris had been allowing her to speak. She guessed that it had more to do with boredom than anything. Being locked in a dungeon for the greater part of your days was bound to unhinge any child, no matter how obedient. “Have you ever played Rack, Idris?”

  “No.” He refused to meet her gaze, shoving the remainder of the food into his mouth like he’d never see another meal.

  She knew he was feigning disinterest, so she continued in the most cheerful voice she could conjure. “It’s a game of dice and wits that my friends and I used to play to pass the time between ports at sea. Maybe I can teach you one day?” Her friends—Dain… No, don’t think of Dain. Focus on what you need to do.

  The boy snorted in response. The morning guard would arrive shortly, and Sable only had these few fleeting moments between sleep and training to connect with him. Though Idris pretended not to care, she knew he was warming to her, and warmth meant weakness—it meant trust. And trust could be exploited. The child was tiring in more ways than one.

  The cell door creaked loudly on its hinges, a helmeted soldier marching inside as it swung heavily inward. Sable didn’t know if it was the same soldier every day, or different ones; they all looked identical. She sighed as Idris commanded her body up from the cot like a master puppeteer. She still hated having a spectator while being forced through her morning routine, but she tried to block it out, telling herself that modesty was the least of her concerns. Today, the soldier brought cloaks. The outdoor attire could only mean she was going to be pushed harder.

  Good.

  Sable forced herself to think of better things while she stripped off her nightdress. The cold cell air hit her naked body like a tidal wave. It was the same every day. She pursed her lips tight through the rest. When she was finally dressed and cloaked, the black soldier signaled for them to follow.

  Valir’s fortress was a monstrosity of shuttered windows, stone corridors, and barred-off rooms. Wall torches lit the way as their guide led them through the barren maze. When they reached the keep entrance, Sable realized that it had been weeks since she’d been outside, and as the two sentries stationed by the doors moved fast to swing the great oaks open, the cool, early spring breeze washed over her. She breathed deeply, letting the fresh air fill her lungs as she took in her surroundings. The stronghold courtyard was nearly as austere as the fortress interior, but she thought she caught a glimpse of gardens and forests beyond it. The rising sun warmed her face and she watched with intensity as the clouds sailed through the salmon dome above. She’d never been the religious sort, but today, Sable felt compelled to give thanks for being allowed to see the sky one last time.

  Idris pulled at the cord on her wrist, urging her toward the waiting army. So far, the most Sable’s talent had managed to shift in one go was 180 men, and that effort had kept her bedridden for two whole days. Valir had more than doubled that number today. He must be getting impatient. Sable spotted the emperor at the edge of the crowd, silver-lined robes glinting in the morning sunshine. Someone new stood directly by his side, but Sable couldn’t make out the tall man’s features at a distance.

  Valir waved an impatient hand in their direction, willing them faster to his side. They picked up the pace, having already learned the hard way not to keep the ruler waiting. When they finally drew near enough to see everyone ringing Valir, Sable’s stomach dropped.

  The newcomer, standing by the emperor, was none other than Oswart Dulge.

  She’d only seen the man once before, during the attack on Alloway Manor, but she’d never forget his ugly, bulgy-eyed face for as long as she lived. She hated him for threatening the people she loved and for defiling Dain’s childhood home. And now she knew exactly who’d sent him in the first place.

  Oswart ignored everyone, groveling only to Valir, dipping his head in constant submission as he spoke words Sable couldn’t yet hear. When they reached the Emperor, Idris and the black soldier bowed low while Sable remained standing. She’d never once cowered in Valir’s presence, never once groveled, but she’d always been forced by Idris to bow. Her puppeteer seemed to have forgotten today, and the slip-up made her glance sideways at the boy. In the dim light of their cell, she hadn’t noticed, but now, in daylight, she could see the weary circles under the child’s eyes. He was more tired than she’d thought. Perhaps that was why Valir was pushing things further? If the emperor lost his grip on her now, it’d ruin everything he’d spent centuries planning—

  Dulge’s high-pitched whine interrupted her thoughts. “Your greatness, I’d no way of knowing the manor was magicked. How could I?” The brigand’s clothes were travel-worn, covered in months of road dust, and Sable could’ve smelled the man a span off.

  Valir waved a silencing hand, cutting off Dulge’s next plea. “We’ll discuss your pathetic excuse for a life later.”
His gaze then raked over Sable’s unbent form. “I have more important things to deal with at the moment.” Black soldiers jumped to drag the whimpering Oswart away.

  Sable followed the man with her eyes, hoping beyond hope that the brigand would get exactly what he deserved. When her gaze flitted back to Valir’s, she was careful not to let any recognition or emotion show on her brow.

  The emperor’s eyes narrowed, almost like he was trying to guess at her thoughts. Then he said, “I need better from you, Sable. You cost me two full days with your last recovery, and I don’t have time for delays. By the end of today, I expect you to be strong enough to shift a battalion.”

  He was getting impatient. Obviously, he’d moved his plans up.

  Typically, Sable held her tongue in the emperor’s presence, not to spare herself, but to spare Idris. She’d learned the hard way that the boy bore the brunt of her defiance. He was in charge of keeping her under control, so her misdemeanors were his. Idris wasn’t tortured in any physical way, but Valir had him in some kind of thrall, and Sable knew that whatever that was, it caused Idris deep emotional anguish. Hopefully, the boy wouldn’t suffer too much for her words today. “I have no control over the limitations of my own talent, and your timeline is of little concern to me, Rectlor.” It was the first time she’d addressed him by the name Ileana had shared—his long-ago name, the one he’d borne centuries before when he’d imprisoned the princess and her beloved in bodies of wood and stone. She hoped the knowledge might rattle his confidence, make him wonder what was forming against him—what Sable hoped Dain, Alis, and the others were planning.

  Valir’s eyes gave only the barest flare. Then his lids settled and he leaned toward her with a condescending grin. “Rectlor died long ago, Sable Cortham. Perhaps one day I’ll enlighten you with a history lesson, but as I said, I’ve no more time for delays.” He turned sharply to Idris. “Get to work.”

  The boy jumped into action, forcing Sable toward the dais above the gathered troops. She couldn’t see their faces beneath the dark, red-plumed helmets, but she knew the soldiers were afraid. It couldn’t be easy to be volunteered as test subjects. She pitied them, because if what she did today worked, there was no guarantee these men would come away unscathed. Sable took one last glance at the salmon skies and felt compelled to pray again. Perhaps whether one professed to have faith or not, dire circumstances called one to prayer. Please, please let me die. Without her, Valir would lose the element of surprise, he’d have to move his forces in a conventional manner, via ship, or on foot. It would give the four kingdoms more warning, more time to prepare—more time to fight. Her life was a small price to pay for that kind of advantage.

  Sable felt the pull of Idris’s power first, infiltrating her body on a more intimate level than simply controlling her limbs. She hated this part—the full invasion of her talent as Idris wielded her magic like it was his own. She was always thankful that he didn’t go beyond that though, he never tried controlling her thoughts or emotions. Sable could only imagine how entirely overwhelming that would be.

  This time, before he got too far inside her power, she said, “Let’s show the emperor what we can really do. How we can shift them all.” The boy’s head whipped up to look at her, fuchsia eyes wide. Maybe he knew what she was planning, maybe not, but either way she continued. “Imagine how pleased he’ll be if we accomplish this today. He’d reward you—stop punishing you.” Her lies didn’t stop there. “We can do this, Idris. I know we can. And afterward, when we’ve had a good long rest, I’ll teach you how to play Rack. We’ll have so much fun.”

  Idris continued to stare at her, considering her words. She could only hope she’d managed to earn enough trust…

  A sharp command echoed off the stone walls surrounding them. “No more delays!”

  The boy shook.

  Sable spoke fast. “Let’s do this, Idris—together.”

  The child’s face scrunched up into a determined grimace, the full force of his power now coursing through Sable’s body. She gasped as Idris threw her talent, with all his will, toward the soldiers below. It was only in this moment that it occurred to Sable that her sacrifice might kill Idris as well. Her vision warped as the men below began to dissolve. At first they disappeared by ones, but then they began vanishing in larger groups. The child amped up his draw even more, forcing so much power out of Sable that her knees began to shake despite his influence over her limbs. An adept died if their talent was overdrawn, but would Idris overdraw and die as well? Sable bit her tongue. Some vague form of self-preservation had obviously lingered at the back of her mind when she’d planned all this, but she’d been able to suppress it for the sake of saving others. Now, however, she was overwhelmed by her newfound fear for the child. What had she done?

  Sable tried to speak, but her voice failed her. She tried to resist the draw on her talent, but it was no use. If only Idris could’ve laid a hand on the emperor himself—with this kind of power, he could’ve changed the course of the oncoming invasion without any sacrifice at all.

  Idris drew more.

  Black spots clouded Sable’s vision as the boy wobbled beside her.

  They were going to die.

  The world wavered, Sable’s limbs burning as she sent out internal farewells to everyone she’d ever loved. Her final thoughts fell on the one she loved most, the one who’d taught her to stop running, taught her to fight back and be brave.

  12

  Being swallowed by a sea monster was probably the lesser of two evils, but Dain really wasn’t ready to die. Heart still pounding, he tried again to force the water to his will.

  No response.

  Cursing, he flailed his arms and legs uselessly.

  The glow grew larger. He squeezed his lids shut against the inevitable doom. I’m sorry, Sable—I failed you. Again.

  A rush of water swirled around him.

  Seconds, minutes. No bite, no teeth.

  Dain’s eyes were clenched so tight it hurt to open them, and the sting was intensified by the bright light floating before him. The air bubble around his head warped his vision as he squinted at the glow, but when he was finally able to focus, Dain swallowed hard.

  A halo of sky-pink hair swirled around golden eyes, and skin the color of ice—bare in all its contours—glowed as bands of pearls twined a perfect female torso that transformed just below the navel into a long, golden tail.

  The creature before him was no sea monster—she was a siren. Dain’s mind grew as crowded and chaotic as his mother’s office, and then all he could think about was the merrow herself. She smiled, with sharp, pointed canines peeking out from the corner of her mouth as she swayed in to weave her tail sensually around his legs. Dain heard vague warning bells go off inside his skull, but he didn’t care. She was perfect. She was everything he’d ever wanted.

  The siren broke through the air bubble, popping it with a splash as seawater rushed around his face. Dain barely caught a breath before his mouth was covered, but even when his lungs began to ache, he stayed transfixed, mesmerized by the vision before him.

  The merrow’s smile faded, her head snapping toward his, her mouth clamping on his own as she forced his lips wide with her tongue and breathed.

  Dain’s body warmed as he sucked at the air she gave—or was it fluid? The kiss lasted long after his lungs were satisfied. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let her go. He wanted more. And she seemed content in his roving arms for a time. When the siren did break the embrace, Dain tried to snatch for her, but she floated easily out of reach.

  Her distance dulled the charm.

  Dain’s mind grew less enraptured, and despite the cold sea, a heat crept up his neck. The flush was short-lived though, his embarrassment usurped by the shocking revelation that he was breathing—underwater. He caught the merrow’s golden gaze again and she gave him a coy grin, beckoning him with webbed fingers.

  Dain hesitated.

  He’d heard stories and songs, but he’d never actually seen one in
real life, until now. Some said the sirens lured unsuspecting sailors to their deaths; others said they were the angels of the sea. All agreed you’d fall in love at first sight.

  Well, it wasn’t exactly love…

  The glowing creature swirled back to look at him, and another fierce flash of longing thrilled through Dain’s frame. The near-irresistible urge made him flail toward her. What was he doing?

  He gave his head an underwater shake, trying to clear his mind again. The siren obviously possessed a lure, but was she leading him to his death? No, she’d somehow saved him with her kiss. Oh, that kiss… Dain gave his head another shake. Focus. Perhaps she’d lead him back to The Wildflower? Or maybe she was here as a guide, someone to take him where the Dernamn wanted him to go—to the gods?

  The merrow beckoned again.

  Dain swooned, but managed to keep control of his senses. He supposed he’d never know the truth if he didn’t follow, and he had a sneaking suspicion that if he somehow made it to the surface, he’d simply find himself lost at sea.

  He tried swimming forward, but the weight of his clothing and boots dragged at him. He knew the merrow’s fins would propel her quickly through the waves and he’d never be able to keep up. He reached again for the element around him, giving a gentle, near-apologetic call this time. He was skeptical of a response, since the current had abandoned him earlier, but it was worth another try. It took several more coaxing invites before the water responded, and when it finally did reach back, it gave Dain a flipping shove from behind. He couldn’t help grinning. It was like the element was upset at him for being so demanding before, almost like a jilted lover. Relationship. Dain made an internal promise to treat the water with more respect in the future.