Tides (Time of Myths: Shapeshifter Sagas Book 3)

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Tides (Time of Myths: Shapeshifter Sagas Book 3) Page 9

by Natasha Brown


  She wasn’t allowed any time for pride, for Rúni thrust the wooden bailer against her chest. She coughed and reflexively grabbed it. He bellowed with laughter while he watched her climb into the cargo hold. She didn’t wish to pay him any attention, so she got to work removing the water that had seeped into the ship over the last day.

  Eilish didn’t know where they were headed, but she could sense the mood of the crew. The Allmaster appeared jovial. Rúni and his sons were in a similar state, but they were the only ones so eager to set out. Agnar was speaking to Leif on the bow decking, though neither seemed pleased. Least contented of all was Leif, whose brow was set in a firm line and his jaw fixed in a grimace. If his mood was any clue, something disagreeable would soon befall them.

  The oars were pulled out, and most of the men on the ship sat upon wooden trunks while they gripped the handles, waiting for their order to begin rowing. Leif’s deep voice began to chant words she couldn’t yet understand. She watched his body flex with movement as he pulled his oar in rhythm with the others.

  The ship pulled away from the beach, and Eilish swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She sensed danger in her future and couldn’t shake the feeling. Her father had only wanted to protect her from further harm when he’d cut her hair and renamed her Aiden. She’d only been following his wishes, seeking safety and protection, but she was beginning to wonder if she was on the path to something truly frightful. She might have been proud of herself climbing onto the boat without help, but following her turn in the sea, getting pulled below the waves, she was even more nervous sailing over the ocean.

  With the stories fresh in her mind of the sea god, Ægir, she hoped the Allmaster was truly in good standing with his supposed kin. And that she was in good standing with him, so she would not find herself cast overboard. She busied herself with the bailer, avoiding the thoughts that twisted her stomach in knots. Eilish knew she was strong. She would do what she must to survive, including sailing over the perilous seas with a ship filled with barbarians.

  Unlike the other times they’d climbed into the boat, they continued to row their way south within sight of the coast instead of setting sail. She wondered if it had anything to do with the winds that blew against their faces. Eilish enjoyed listening to the songs that poured from Leif’s lips; they actually calmed her. When she’d first heard his ballad, she’d thought it an ominous call. Although it hadn’t lost that tone, that evening it made her feel safe hearing his voice combatting the wind.

  The men were at work for a tiresome amount of time. The sun drifted near the horizon when Leif stopped chanting and the oars were pulled from the water and stowed. Leif glanced at her before he muttered something to Cormacc and Agnar. The two men lifted the large metal anchor that had given her so much trouble. It was cast over the side as both stayed clear of the rope’s coils that quickly unwound until it held taut. Leif stood and stared at his father, a look that was hard to miss. Next, he pulled his tunic from his back and dropped it to the ground.

  “Fara!” the Allmaster bellowed. The muscles in his neck tightened while the leader glared at his son.

  Eilish observed Leif from under her veil of hair. His muscular chest lifted as though to shield his father’s words from reaching his ears. His arms lifted into the wind, and her breath caught in her throat when feathers coursed over his flesh. It happened so fast, she couldn’t pinpoint the moment he no longer appeared to be a man and changed into the great seabird. The albatross caught a gale and lifted into the sky. It sailed on the currents, flying south out of sight.

  Cormacc looked down at her with his eyes wide. His fear was apparent. All of the other new slaves seemed just as rattled. It wasn’t the only time they’d seen it happen, though every occasion appeared to feel like the first.

  In the face of Cormacc’s unease, she held strong. It was truly inexplicable to her that a man could change shape as Leif did, but she trusted him. He knew her secret and was keeping it for some reason. Maybe so he could hold it over her head. She was yet to find out, but if that were the case, wouldn’t he have made advances on her already?

  It wasn’t Leif’s body-changing qualities that kindled fear in her belly, it was the frightful look in the Allmaster’s eyes. He was the one to be wary of, she was sure of it.

  The sun continued to sink until the sky glowed a deep blue and bright points of light sparkled above. The moon was not yet at its fullest. Its half-glow danced on the still water. She had not yet seen the ocean as calm as it was that night. The eerie quiet held everyone in stillness. They were all waiting for the same thing—for Leif to return. Eilish was unsure of what would happen once he did, but she sensed it wouldn’t be good.

  She was unsure how to feel when the albatross landed on the edge of the ship beside the Allmaster. The bird snapped its beak before taking to the deck and returning to Leif’s skin. It might have been appropriate for her to look away, but she couldn’t help but stare. He began to speak his native language with his father while he pointed to the south. She strained to understand their words, recognizing a few of them. The conversation grew heated before long, and she sensed more conflict.

  It ended when the Allmaster snarled at his son and clapped his hand to Leif’s neck. His grip was tight and threatening, to such a degree that Eilish wasn’t sure if he would throw him into the water. Instead, Ragna let go to pull off his own vest and tunic. He removed his belt, weapon and remaining clothing, placing all of his belongings into the trunk he’d been sitting upon. The Allmaster barked some orders to Rúni, who nodded.

  Then something unexpected happened. Both father and son dove into the darkened waters below. Eilish rushed to the edge of the ship. She could not find Leif or Ragna anywhere. They were not bobbing in the gentle waves, nor swimming near the boat.

  The other night Leif had rescued her from the sea, so she knew he was unafraid of the water, which only confused her more. Had they both drowned? Was that possible? She glanced up at Rúni, who stood at the stern decking where the Allmaster was usually found. If he was their new master and Leif had sunk to his death, she might as well cast herself over too.

  That was the moment she heard and sensed movement in the water. A large shape cut through the sea. Moonlight distinguished it from the waves. Long fingers greater than the length of the boat flexed and carried it away. She could not tell how many there were, or what it was, and she did not know if she wanted to.

  Chapter 8

  Panic increased his heart rate. It took Leif a moment to gain control over himself. This happened every time he changed into the monster. Too many memories from his youth resurfaced. The times his father left him out at sea, telling him to swim home or not to bother returning at all. And the pain involved with changing into a creature so unlike himself, being held under the surface by a man determined his son should take a powerful ocean shape, despite its challenges or the hurt it caused Leif.

  The noises of the world fell away as his eyes cut through the dim waters, seeing the lines and shadows far below them on the ocean floor. Beside him, Ragna had already changed form. His long peaked mantle pointed southward, and his large eye stared at him unblinking. His father’s arms danced in the current as his two long tentacles extended behind him and past the shadow of the boat.

  Leif didn’t want to feel the sting of Ragna’s suckers again. The sharp rings of tiny teeth would leave scars if it weren’t for the fact that injuries healed when he changed back to his human body. The risk of angering his father so close to his treasure was high, so he brought in water to funnel it out his siphon, propelling him backward. Leif’s tentacles pulled through the current like ribbons in the wind. Ragna followed him through the sea, moving quickly by his side.

  They swam so near each other that it was likely they looked like the same kind of creature, although they were far from it. Maybe it had been his own stubbornness, but Leif had refused to take the same sea creature’s form as his father. The octopus had been similar enough to the squid
for Ragna’s approval.

  Leif kept his focus, trying to navigate the waters to their destination, but it was challenging not to remember the ghosts in his past. He thought of the last time he ever cared about his father’s pride: the day he proved to have the same ability as Ragna when he was fifteen and foolish. He had actually been happy to see his father grin at him. It didn’t take long until he realized the depths of his father’s obsession when Ragna began his training. Leif was a possession to him—a tool to use to get what he wanted, just like anything or anyone else.

  After their first summer at sea when Ragna’s outlawry kept them from returning to their homeland, Leif had tried to escape, and his father made a lasting impression. A beating unparalleled to any he had ever experienced left him limping for weeks. His father forced him to suffer through the healing process on his own, unaided by his powers. Since then Leif had continued to do as Ragna ordered, biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to free himself from his father’s grasp. He believed in his heart that his father would never amass enough gold to buy entry into Ægir’s halls at the ocean floor, for he had gained all of his treasure through treachery. No god would reward Ragna for his actions, no matter how much was offered in tribute.

  They swam through the ocean until he saw it. The oval shape was much like their ship’s hull. The keel caught the reflected moonlight in the darkness. Leif sped up to it and stopped with his father by his side.

  He knew what was expected of him, but this was the moment he most dreaded. He hated doing his father’s bidding, especially when he considered it so dishonorable. Attacking at night was shameful. Not giving your enemy the opportunity to fight back so that you might earn the spoils with dignity was humiliating. You did not earn glory and praise when behaving like robbers, stealing from others under the cover of darkness. They already had the upper hand, taking the shape of the sea monsters sailors feared.

  Leif touched the ship’s hull with his tentacles. They wrapped over the gunwale, curling and twisting upward, pulling his bulbous body with them. When he emerged from the water, his weight temporarily pulled him down, but his limbs’ powerful suction was too strong, and he climbed over the edge. He remained perched for a moment, staring onto the ship.

  He searched for movement, but he already knew the crew had tucked into their sleep sacks for the night. Leif slid down onto the bow deck before he focused on the sensation that called him back to his human form. It took only a moment until he was breathing fresh air again. Returning to the body he was born with was always a relief. He would never admit to anyone the anxiety it created, changing into the great octopus. Somehow, he suspected his father knew and relished his displeasure.

  Water dripped from his naked body as he stood beside three sleeping men. He could see Ragna’s snake-like arms and two long tentacles in the waters below, lying in wait. Leif observed the glint of steel beside one of the traders before he took a deep breath, preparing himself for the flurry of excitement he was about to incite.

  He reached down to the foot end of the first man’s sleep sack and, in one quick movement, flipped his legs over the gunwale of the ship. A cry called out after a loud splash, but Leif did not stop. One after another, he did the same to the two crewmen who began to wake in surprise.

  The calls from the water turned to screams. No doubt the traders were feeling the painful teeth that lined Ragna’s suckers, or even the powerful bite from his deadly beak. Leif reached down to pick up the sword that was left on the deck. On the other side of the merchant ship, the other sailors were jumping out of their sleep sacks, shouting to the men in the water, not noticing the armed man at the bow of the boat.

  “What is it?” one shouted.

  Gurgles and splashing answered his calls. Hands curled over the edge of the gunwale while one of the capsized men tried to climb back on board. His wide eyes stared up at Leif as he screamed, “It is the Kraken! Help!”

  It was not the first time Leif had looked into the face of terror. Nor would it likely be the last. He watched as the man was pulled free of the ship and yanked under the surface of the dark waters. Leif focused on the men at the other end of the boat, one of whom had just noticed the stranger holding a sword and armed himself with a blade before stepping over the cargo in the hold to make his way to the bow deck.

  “Who are you?” the trader demanded. “Does this beast do your bidding?”

  Leif gripped the sword’s hilt tight, pointing the blade before him, ready for a fight. His jaw braced in a grimace as he answered, “Neinn. I do its bidding, and it has claimed your ship and everything on it.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed before swinging his saber at him. Leif blocked the attack with the side of his blade and pushed back. The trader stumbled away, though he kept his gaze locked on Leif. Their weapons remained pointed at each other while the remaining traders noticed the fight on the bow of the boat and pointed their axes in his direction.

  Leif was not a master of swords, nor did he consider himself a natural warrior. He was, however, a master of disguise and distraction. He looked over the edge of the ship into the dark waters below where his father’s suctioned arms had resurfaced to curl over the gunwale. Though Ragna had sunk many skiffs, faering and small byrding vessels, one this size would be a challenge to topple, but the traders didn’t know that. He feigned surprise, and the man turned in search of what had caught Leif’s attention. Leif took advantage and slashed against his sword, glancing it away from him, and moved forward quickly, thrusting his foot into the trader’s abdomen, sending him over the side of the ship.

  The other two men were already on their way to meet him with their axes clutched in their hands. One of the traders flung his weapon through the air in his direction. Leif sidestepped it just in time and heard its blade sink into the prow. He wasn’t fond of the odds, so he dropped his sword and took a breath before calling to the power within him. His skin tingled momentarily as he shrank down to the decking just as the men finished crossing the boat.

  One of the abilities this body provided were the benefits of disguise, something that had taken much of his time to perfect. He sent the signal through his body that controlled his pigment, wrapping his tentacles around himself. Though the sounds around him were muted and he had no ears to hear, he could sense the men’s confusion and see the frowns on their faces.

  One leaned over the starboard, the other glanced over the port while they searched for the naked man that had stood there moments before. Leif moved quick, focused on one of the men’s legs. His tentacles pulled him close, and he opened his beak. Pressing down hard, he cut through trousers and flesh, releasing his poison into his target. Though his world was eerily quiet, he could only imagine the screams that followed. It would only be a matter of time before the trader became paralyzed.

  The energy it took to change his shape was nearly gone. He hoped he had enough to call to it once more. Once more was all he needed. Leif released himself from his hold and focused his thoughts on his human shape and the familiar sensation of going home. It was always easier returning to his natural form, though after a series of body changes, everything was more challenging. If he waited too long, his opportunity would be gone. His pores tingled while his stature grew. The trader Leif had attacked was grasping his leg as he witnessed the change take effect. An expression of sheer terror transformed his face.

  Before the man could react, Leif lunged at him, shoving his hands against his chest, sending one more to his watery death. His cries drew the last remaining trader’s attention. He spun in place to look upon Leif in his human form once again. The man glanced at the axe that was affixed to the prow and Leif’s sword that had fallen into the cargo hold, then put his hands up.

  He pleaded with Leif. “I can serve you—I am strong, and a vessel like this can always use another who knows the ropes.”

  The man had a good point. Though they numbered fifteen men including Eilish, they would be splitting the crew between two ships. It would be useful to
gain another pair of hands since Ragna had already cast one of their thralls overboard as a sacrifice to Ægir for safe passage.

  “Very well,” Leif answered, glancing over the gunwale at the floating, lifeless body of one of the traders. “Know what is good for you and follow Ragna’s orders.”

  “Who is Ragna, Master?” the man questioned with a frown.

  Ignoring the newly acquired thrall, Leif went to a trunk, hoping it had been left unlocked, and opened it. He riffled inside, looking for clothing. He pulled out a tunic and a pair of trousers and had begun to put them on when a booming roar sounded from the stern of the boat. The unfree trader stepped back as he watched a man lift himself into the ship.

  Laughter poured from Ragna’s lips, along with droplets of seawater. He shook his fist to the skies and clapped his hands together. “Was that not great fun! Who is mightier than I?”

  Leif muttered so only the trader could hear, “That is Ragna.”

  The thrall stumbled back, puzzled over Ragna’s euphoria, clearly rattled after the naked man’s sudden appearance from the monster-infested waters. Leif could imagine the thoughts that tumbled through the trader’s mind—the fear. It would serve him in the moments ahead if he was going to survive the initial meeting with his new master.

  “What is this? Too tired to cast the last one over? Find me a blade, and I will thank Ægir properly for this booty by tainting the waves with this man’s blood,” Ragna called over to Leif, sending out droplets of water from his outstretched hand.

  “Will there not be enough time to give thanks upon your return home?” Leif questioned and continued to speak before his father reacted. “I could use another man sailing north, and this one knows this ship.”

  Through the moonlight, he could see his father’s expression. Ragna’s grimace braced his lips for only a fleeting moment before he shook his head and growled. “You and your strays. Very well, their sacrifice can wait until I come back with Ægir’s fire.”

 

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