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

by Micheline Ryckman

  The handsome sailor waved his blade in Dain’s direction. “I’m wounded that ye think me so base, mate. Who’s to say I’m not a scholar at heart? Perhaps there’s even a drop of magic in my blood too, one never knows.” Casper swung an arm over Jord’s shoulder, leaning toward his ear conspiratorially. “Is there some kind of test we can do?”

  Awkwardly trying to disengage himself, Jord said, “Captain Alis has several alchemic tests, but I’ve none myself. Perhaps Tars could try…” The shy man blushed at his next words. “Or perhaps you could ask the princess when she’s flesh again. I hear one of her talents runs to that vein.”

  Casper’s grin turned rakish. “Oh, yer a smart lad. Any excuse to have that beauty lay hands on me is wisdom indeed.”

  Jord’s blush deepened further.

  Dain snorted. “You do recall we’re standing at the prow—she might be wood, but she can still hear you.”

  Casper grinned wider, pointing his sword in Dain’s direction again. “Exactly.”

  Jord patted at Casper’s sword arm, encouraging him to lower it. “There’s a lot to cover before dinner. We should get started, I—”

  “I thought I heard my name?” Tars reached the top of the steps, lute as always firmly in hand.

  Casper pounced on the newcomer. “I’m in need of a test, oh great alchemic friend.”

  Tars cocked a brow. “A test?”

  “Aye. I’m curious to know if I’ve any magic in my bones.”

  Tars rolled his eyes.

  Casper shrugged, another rakish grin spreading wide. “Suppose I’ll be waiting on the princess after all.”

  He gave his blade a few dramatic swirls, the movement freeing Jord to move several paces away. The conjurationist looked quite relieved by the distance as he said, “We really do have a lot to accomplish today…”

  Tars and Casper simply stared at Jord like they were wondering what he was waiting for.

  Handing his sword to Casper, Dain turned to face his second teacher of the day. “Ignore them. Let’s get started, my friend.”

  Jord looked uncomfortable at the best of times, but now, with two spectators, he was even more awkward than usual. But Dain knew the minute the man started talking about talents, he’d forget all about the audience. Personal passion can sway even the most timid of souls to boldness. And if anyone should feel awkward, it was Dain—his skills paled in comparison to Jord’s.

  “Right, well, let’s have you up on the bowsprit, sir.”

  “Dain, not sir, remember?”

  “Right, Dain—sorry, sir.”

  Casper snorted.

  Dain threw him a quick silencing glare, hoping to make it clear that Casper needed to spare Jord’s nerves. The copper-skinned sailor looked unfazed, then half a second later his eyes flew wide. “I—” He reached one hand over for his shoulder as though trying to itch his back. “What in the…”

  Jord began shuffling around in the same manner.

  Dain stared at the two men. Why were they—a strong, insistent itch crawled up his own spine. His gaze darted to Tars. The musician stood stock-still, apparently unaffected, but his back stiffened straight when Dain said, “Sable!”

  26

  The storm tore at Sable’s clothes, the rain pelting her face as she forced her talent to seek Dain aboard The Maiden. The distance between them was a feat, but when she finally located him, she found three other people alongside. She had no time to think about who they were; she simply grasped onto two others. There was no way of knowing if they could help her. Either way, she selfishly wanted to see Dain’s face one more time, and if she were captured again, she’d need to leave someone behind to care for Idris. If things looked too bad, she’d shift them to the waters below and get them rope enough to retrieve the boy.

  Just as the stalkers' cries sounded inside the forest edge, Dain, Casper, and a stout stranger appeared on the cliff beside her. The men stumbled, the onslaught of weather and cold terror causing all of them to shake visibly. Sable managed only three words when they finally focused in on her. “I’m so sorry—”

  The force of Dain’s gaze made her knees weaker than the stalkers’ terrible magic—she’d never dreamed anyone could look at her like that. She was desperate to run into his arms, but the moment their eyes met, the enemy burst from the tree line, red robes writhing in the wind, hounds flying fast on their heels. She lifted her fingers in air, drawing on the strange new magic she’d used in the cavern to lift the worm from the river. Every loose rock and boulder in the nearby vicinity floated into the air and flew toward their assailants. Some of the hounds gave whimpered cries, returning to the trees for coverage. The stalkers, though, pressed backward by the thrust, were fast, and most of the faceless demons dodged the projectiles. Before they could regroup, she gathered another round, this time drawing from the larger rocks on the more distant shores below. The effort to get the rocks up over the ridge was great, but she managed another volley just in time to slow their advance again. Directly after she struck, a bolt of lightning scorched the forest, flames bursting into the dark, wet skies. Sable caught a side-eyed glimpse of Dain, and she realized the bolt had been his doing, because he looked like he was gathering strength for a second strike. She tried harvesting more rocks, but felt the drain of her new power more poignantly than her old—damn, she was weakening fast. Two of the wilder hounds took advantage of her brief delay, bursting from the trees, managing to skirt Sable’s third, more feeble attack and head straight for their group. Why hadn’t the stalkers followed the dog’s example—

  Casper intercepted the hounds—somehow, the sailor happened to have two swords in hand, and the snarling jaws were quickly silenced by his blades.

  The cries of men sounded behind the now-dwindling fire—more hunters.

  Dain razed the forest edge with another round of lightning.

  Dying hounds howled.

  Men screamed in retreat.

  Sable tried but was unable to raise another round of stones. Not only was the new power more draining, but her body was simply giving out for lack of food and extreme exertion. She assessed the situation quickly, trying to decide if she should shift the others to the shore while she still had some strength, but still, the stalkers held back. She scrubbed the rainwater from her eyes to stare at their fluid, menacing forms and count the empty faces by twos—twelve, fourteen… Why weren’t they advancing? She risked a glance over her shoulder and drew a sharp breath in surprise.

  The stranger she’d shifted with Casper and Dain stood at her back, his weathered cap dripping with rainwater, thick arms raised high in the air. Behind him, rolling high above their heads, was an enormous wall of seawater. No wonder the stalkers were still—even a drop of that water would burn them alive. The stranger yelled at them over the raging storm. “Jump!”

  Casper didn’t hesitate, flinging himself off the cliff, swords still in hand, straight into the sea wall. The water caught him, floating him like a feather to the shores below.

  Dain snatched Sable’s hand, dragging her toward the edge, but her fingers were slick with water and she slipped from his grasp. She dove for the cliff edge, groping for the rope that held Idris. When she found it, she pulled, but her arms failed her. Dain was by her side seconds later, his voice hardly audible over the roaring wall of water and storm. “What are you doing? We need to go.”

  Sable pointed to rope, pulling at it pathetically.

  Dain didn’t waste a moment, grasping the rope and yanking hard.

  Idris squealed.

  Dain’s eyes widened as he snatched for the boy, dragging him up over the lip.

  Sable gathered the shivering child in her arms.

  Several stalkers screamed in frustration, and she couldn’t resist glancing back as the stranger controlling the water waved it menacingly above them. Some of the demons raised their claws, but fell back with steely hisses against the still-burning woods. Sable clutched the vibrating Idris closer, looking up at Dain. His stormy gaze was fierce. He
was here—he was here. A thick lump formed in her throat and she couldn’t speak.

  Dain looked from the boy to the stranger on the cliff. The man yelled again. “Hurry, sir, before the fire goes out. Jump!” Dain moved like lightning, pulling Idris from her arms in one smooth motion and tossing the child, through the wind and rain, toward the waiting sea wall. Idris screamed until the water enveloped him, and like Casper, he floated gently down. Seconds later, Sable was flying off the cliff herself—there wasn’t even a moment to protest. She braced for a slapping impact, but it wasn’t like diving at all. The magical squall didn’t hurt; instead, it enveloped her and even created an air pocket around her head as she floated. The water was, however, cold. Not the knee-clattering stalker chill, but a natural cold that was serious enough to kill a person eventually. Just as she started to float down she saw several men bravely burst through the fire at the forest's edge. She gasped, trying to fight the current pulling at her, waving frantically at Dain when she saw that Oswart Dulge advanced among them.

  Dain saw a flash of panic cross Sable’s features when she hit the water. At first he thought she'd just been afraid of the heights—she always had, she’d told him—but when he heard the voices behind him, he knew why. He couldn’t resist a glance over his shoulder before he made to jump, and he swore out loud when he saw Oswart Dulge leading two other men through the rain. His jaw clenched tight, rage taking hold. Would he never be rid of the devil?

  Oswart laughed loudly, the high-pitched wheeze of his voice carrying above the storm. “Well, if it isn’t the aristo-brat.” The thug wasted no time. “Get him!”

  Dain knew he should jump now, but after what Dulge had done to his family and his childhood home he wanted revenge. It was stupid, childish even—he had no sword, Casper had taken both, but he pulled the dagger on his hip and buried the blade in the first man’s heart. Jord screamed. “Sir, what are you doing? Jump!”

  Dain dove forward instead, barely evading the second brigand’s sword by a finger-breath as he thrust his foot toward the man’s knees. His attacker toppled to the ground. Then, faster than Dain could say ‘Hi, ho,’ a perfectly channeled wave of water dragged the fallen man off the cliff edge. Dain shot Jord a quick glance. The sailor had helped him, but at the expense of allowing the stalkers to advance. Jord now had to concentrate his efforts on pushing the demons back again, and Dain was on his own as he bounced back to his feet to face Dulge.

  The tall, bulgy-eyed thug stalked toward him, sword in hand.

  Dain had no way to defend himself. No sword, no dagger, only his bare hands—and his magic. The wind whipped enticingly around him, like always, to play. This element was his strongest talent, but he'd never used it in defense--perhaps now was the time. It didn’t take any wooing. The element leaped at his call, whipping so hard toward Dulge that the man lost his footing, stumbling sideways. Dain didn’t waste his advantage, lunging, fists forward, toward the man’s sword arm, swinging with all his might to knock the weapon from Dulge’s grasp. It worked. Oswart reeled, sword flying to teeter on the cliff edge. Dain thought about diving for the weapon, but decided to push his advantage instead, shoving his shoulder into Dulge’s chest and knocking him to the ground. The man's pale eyes rounded as his back hit the rocky ground and Dain’s weight landed heavily on top of him. Both of them wheezed, wind knocked from their lungs. Oswart recovered first. A wide hand shot up fast to clamp around Dain's throat. Spots quickly formed in front of Dain's eyes as the man squeezed. This really had been a stupid idea—he seemed to have had a lot of those lately.

  Dain tried kicking himself off the thug, but the grip was too strong and his airways were quickly cut off. The wind whipped around him again, urging him, calling to him—it seemed crazy, but Dain listened to it. Reaching for the element, he followed its lead and pulled the air straight out of Dulge's own lungs. The thug gasped, hand falling away to clutch at his own throat, but there was nothing the man could do to remove his invisible hangman.

  The former captain sucked air into his own lungs as he rolled away from Oswart’s writhing form. Then Jord was by his side, dragging Dain toward the cliff edge. “We have to jump, now!”

  It was a slow float to the bottom, but Casper waited, Idris by his side, to catch Sable on the shore. She couldn’t explain, considering the day’s horrors and what might be happening above, why she was so elated to see the sailor’s familiar face. She hugged him tight after the water dropped her in his arms. When he set her to the shore, Casper pushed his soggy hair from his eyes and gave her a flashy grin. “I need to catch more damsels in distress, I think.”

  Sable couldn’t resist a smile through her shivers. Drawing Idris close to her side, she turned to look up. The sea wall remained in place, but no one descended after her. She looked to Casper, “Men broke through the fire just as I was thrown into the waves, and Oswart Dulge was with them.”

  A mean snarl escaped Casper's lips. “I shouldn’t have jumped so quickly.”

  Sable bit into her lip, looking up at the water again. “What should we do—” Her strength was failing her, but she looked at Casper anyway. “I’m sending you back up.” He nodded, knees bent, both swords now in hand like he was ready to spring. But just as she raised her fingers the water wall began to recede toward them, and they could see, at the very top, Dain and the stranger within its grasp. Thank Orthane! Even over the storm, she could hear the icy cries from the ridge above, but the span between them now was enough to dilute the demon’s terror. They’d never risk scaling the ridge, the sea was far too great a threat, and if the human hunters tried to scale down, Sable and her companions would already have a good head start. They were safe, for the moment.

  The water wall slowly dissolved into the storm-blown sea, and Sable eyes didn’t leave Dain’s floating form. The minute he landed in the lapping waves, he was on his feet, running through the water and the rain—straight for her. The ferocity of his embrace knocked Idris from her arm. He held her so tight she thought she might burst, both from the physical pressure and the emotional force. Her face was already wet, but she still felt the tears racing down her cheeks as she hugged him back. The cold faded, the chaotic energy of the sea and storm growing distant—all she could see, hear—all she could feel, was him. Dain.

  It was a long time before he pulled back, pushing her wet, clingy hair from her face and cupping her cheeks in his hands. “You’re here.”

  Sable couldn’t find words; she just bit her lip and nodded. Then his mouth crushed her own. He didn’t seem to care that they had an audience. The kiss was not short-lived, and exhausted as she was, she couldn’t have stopped it if she wanted to. He was here. They were together again, and nothing else mattered but this moment.

  It was Casper who brought reality crashing back, leaning covertly in beside their ears. “A kiss like that could warm any soul, but the rest of us are freezing.”

  Dain stole two more quick pecks before he released her and gave Casper a brotherly shove. “I’ll see what I can do. We’ve already used enough magic to draw an entire army of stalkers down upon us, so a little more isn’t going hurt right now.” The rain hitting the coastline receded, the air warming as it started to circle around them in soothing swirls. It would take a lot more than this to dry their drenched hair and clothing, but it did bring the feeling back to Sable’s frozen fingers.

  Idris hadn’t left her side. All of these men were strangers to him, and she suddenly felt bad for leaving him unattended for so long—especially after what just happened. She made fast introductions and watched Dain stare openly at the boy. She knew he was thinking that Idris was identical to Leara An, but he kept quiet, somehow understanding that it wasn’t the right time to bring it up. When she finished, Dain introduced her to the man who’d saved them all, Jord Abernoth. For all his bravado on the cliff, the man looked exceedingly timid now. Of course, she and Dain had just had a long, intimate kiss, so that could put anyone off.

  Despite her fatigue, Sable tried to smile warm
ly as she conveyed her gratitude. Jord only stood awkwardly by, wringing his soggy cap between his palms, blushing and nodding rapidly. When she finished, Dain threw her a quick glance, reassuring her that Jord was always this way. Then he said, “I wish we had more time to rest—time to catch up on everything, but I have a feeling it won’t be long before they find some way, or other, to get to us.” He looked at Sable. “Are you strong enough to shift us all to The Maiden?”

  Sable shook her head. “I can’t—I mean I could, but—” She looked down at Idris, tucked inside the crook of her arm. “I can’t shift Idris. Something prevents me.”

  Dain’s eyes widened in surprise. “So you brought us—”

  Jord’s timid demeanor vanished as he interrupted Dain. “You’re Leara An’s brother?”

  The boy's head snapped toward the sailor, his lip beginning to quiver, his countenance shifting—no longer young. Sable wasn’t able to look in his eyes, but she knew by his tone what was behind them. Dain took a step back as the boy said, “How do you know my sister’s name?”

  Jord nearly bounced with awkward vigor, his wide cheeks bouncing along with him. “I know her. She’s a friend of mine.”

  Sable’s arms dropped to her sides.

  Idris didn’t seem to think Jord was serious; in fact, he seemed to think the man was playing him for a fool. His tone dipped lower yet, and he stalked toward the sailor.

  Dain backed away, and Casper followed suit.

  Sable rolled her eyes at how two grown men were more terrified of a child than they’d been of snarling hounds and stalkers.

  Jord, however, seemed impervious, like he already knew Idris too well. He blabbered on. “You are made like Leara An; that’s why Sable's talent doesn’t work on you. You’re an abomination to creation, and so our talents cannot manipulate you. Oh sure, the water I manipulated around you could still make you float, but we’d never be able to harm, shift, transform, or kill you with our magic—mind you, I don’t really like the term magic, but that’s beside the point. You are near indestructible, just like the stalkers—although I do wonder why the sea doesn’t burn you? That was a rather terrible experiment we just performed on you—hmm. Interesting, I—” He kept talking as Idris drew menacingly close. The conjurationist didn’t seem frightened at all, and the minute Idris reached out to touch him, Jord stepped out of reach. “Now, my boy, I’ve had enough experience with your sister to stay out of arm’s reach.”