Sordid Depths (The Cursed Seas Collection)

by Heather Marie Adkins

  Thanks to the ingenuity of a local siren and the magic of a talented mage, our legacy stone was placed in a sanctified location. Through a connection with the stone, these two were able to locate the location. Once placed, the legacy stone’s healing power began to heal the earth and sea.

  Our elders have reason to believe our stone is but one piece of a greater whole. A chunk of space rock once crashed to earth and split apart upon entering our atmosphere. We believe each region must have a fragment of this meteor that can bring the region back to life.

  The process of finding this stone and placing it in its sanctified location came at great cost to the mage and siren, but our region is thriving. It is not a mission to take lightly, but it is an imperative mission for saving the world.

  One mage must find the stone and locate the sanctified resting place; one siren must help communicate with the stone and must be the one to place it.

  Godspeed and good luck.

  The Elders of the 13th region

  The letter fluttered to the floor. Rivka’s fingers hung frozen in the air in shock. Her gaze drifted over to the sullen Lesya.

  She’d already found her mage.

  8

  Lesya

  Lesya slammed her fist into the heavy door. It rattled gently on its hinges but remained closed.

  She glanced at the siren but saw only the top of her head over the letter she was reading.

  Lesya sank to the ground, stretching her legs out over the scratched wooden planks. She noticed motion out of the corner of her eye and glanced at Rivka in time to see a sheet of paper flutter from her fingers. The siren stared at her, shock in her eyes.

  “I can't believe we're locked in the bowels of a pirate ship, and you're doing some casual reading,” Lesya remarked.

  Rivka snatched the fallen letter off the floor and stood. She rushed to Lesya's side, waving the piece of paper. “You have to read this.”

  “I'm not interested in reading some dumb love letter.”

  Rivka plopped down next to her, shoving the paper in her hand. “It's not a love letter. It’s important. I think this was meant to make it to someone important.”

  Lesya rolled her eyes but lifted the heavy parchment to the sunlight streaming through the porthole window. She hadn’t seen thin, flourished cursive like this in the real world.

  “One siren and one mage to track down the stone and restore the world?” Lesya made a face. “That seems like a lot of work. Plus, it sounds like some kind of damn fairy tale. I bet someone wrote this story for their kids.”

  “Lesya, don't you see? It is no coincidence we arrived here on this ship. We're meant to find the stone.”

  Lesya burst out laughing. “You're kidding, right?” When the siren's earnest face remained unmoving, Lesya sighed. “You're not kidding. Rivka, nobody could have known you'd come out of the ocean and book passage on this ship and decide to go through other people's private things.”

  “Why are you here then?”

  “Because the pirates decided I was worth something. Maybe they knew I'm a mage.”

  “Aha! Exactly.”

  Lesya rubbed her face. On top of the pounding concussion beating in her head, she suddenly had a siren-shaped migraine. She tossed the letter on the floor in between them. “They want me for my powers. Which is also probably why they threw you in this cell first. Your scales aren't exactly inconspicuous.”

  “Sure. But what if the universe conspired to bring us here?” Rivka picked up the letter and shook it in Lesya’s face. “This letter was under a bunch of children's toys that obviously don’t belong to anyone on this boat. So it didn't make it where it was supposed to go. If it weren't for us being thrown in here, it would have been lost forever. But look at us: One siren. One mage. We have to do this!”

  “How do you propose we do that?” Lesya hissed. She waved at the heavy door. “We are locked in a cell with no weapons and no means of escape.”

  “Obviously, we have to escape first. But then we have to try to find this stone.”

  “What about your mission for salt?”

  Rivka folded the letter and slid it beneath her shirt. “Why steal salt when we could just fix the root problem? This letter says if we find the stone and put it where it belongs, we can reverse the curse. Save the land and the sea.”

  Lesya ignored the rest of her statement and focused on the part that really stood out. “You were going to steal the salt?”

  Rivka opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of a key in the door stopped her.

  Lesya scrambled away from the door, dragging the siren with her. They ducked behind two large crates as the door opened.

  “Um. Hello?” a melodious male’s voice said. The door clanged shut. “I know you're in here.”

  Lesya huffed, tapping her head against the crate in annoyance. She used the box to stand and face the new arrival, attempting to hide the fact she was so dizzy that she wanted to fall over.

  The pirate grinned, his teeth white and even against his sun-kissed skin. His messy blond hair stuck out at all angles around his face, and his eyes were a clear, brilliant blue. He sat a tray on the crate in front of her - two plates and two beat-up metal flagons of water.

  “Dinner’s served.”

  Rivka readjusted to her knees and eyeballed the plates.

  Lesya crossed her arms, then immediately regretted it as the ship swayed beneath her. “Is it poisoned?”

  The pirate chuckled. “Cap’n can't get money for the two of you if you're dead. You're only worth something alive.”

  “Isn't that so kind of him?” Lesya snapped. “Are you any good to him alive? Maybe I should call on the ancestral spirits. The vodyanoi would love to demolish this ship and feed you to his sea beasts.”

  She saw no need to mention that she was already in debt to the vodyanoi, and if she called on him, he'd probably kill her for the impertinence.

  The pirate smirked. “You're a fiery one. While I fully believe you have the power to call the spirits of the sea and destroy us all, I wouldn't recommend it. We're no longer within swimming distance of land. For you, anyway. The siren would be alright.”

  “What do you want with us?” Rivka asked.

  “Cap trades in supernaturals. Sirens bring in a pretty penny at the next port.” He gestured to her visible scales. “Guess no one ever warned you to cover up in Nordvik Bay.”

  The siren looked at Lesya, her eyes wide.

  Lesya held up her hands. “News to me, babe. I don't leave my cabin, much less have any knowledge of black trade dealing in sirens.”

  “Why did you take my friend?” Rivka went on. “You kidnapped her! Right off the street!”

  “it's not every day a mage or a siren just saunters onto our ship. Mostly, the cap has to steal them. Plus, I didn't kidnap her. I'm just the chef.” He motioned to the plates. “Best eat up. You'll need your strength when we dock in three days.”

  He winked at Lesya, then left the room, the lock clanking firmly into place behind him.

  “Three days?” Rivka groaned. “How are we supposed to save the world stuck here for three days?”

  “You're not going to drop this saving the world thing, are you?” Lesya sat on the crate and snagged a plate of food.

  Rivka sat beside her. “Can you use your magic to get us free? Break the window with a blast of power? Or can you just make us disappear and reappear outside?”

  Lesya dug her spoon into the thick stew and took a bite. Surprisingly good for a snarky pirate chef. “I don’t know how you've missed the fact that I really suck at magic.”

  “But you're a mage. It’s who you are.”

  “I'm a mage whose spells never do what they're supposed to,” Lesya pointed out. “I could try to open the window and instead, burn down the whole ship—with us still locked in it.”

  “What about the ancestors?”

  “Oh, that I can do. I'm really good at that. But see, I wore out my welcome with the vodyanoi last night when I saved
you from the sea bear. If I called him again, he'd kidnap me and drown me. At least here on the ship, I'm alive and breathing.”

  Rivka moved her stew around on her plate. “What about when we get to port? Will we be alive and breathing then?”

  Lesya met the siren's questioning eyes. “We’ll be alive. But I don't know for how long.”

  9

  Rivka

  “We’ve got three days to figure out an escape plan. Maybe we could start with small spells and work our way up to something bigger.” Rivka scraped the last of the stew from her plate and finished it off. “Stew” wasn’t a concept she’d been familiar with, since it couldn’t be made underwater. But she did like the taste and the way it filled the gnawing hunger in her belly.

  “We? Do you know how to perform magic?” Lesya pushed her empty plate aside and took a drink from her metal flagon.

  “No, but I thought we could work together.” Rivka focused on the feel of the missive from the 13th region safe against her abdomen. Why couldn’t Lesya see they were the only hope this region had? Three days on a ship was a small price to pay if they could escape and save everyone.

  Lesya shook her head. “You presumed wrong. I suck at magic. That letter said the mage has to be the one to locate the stone and find the sanctified resting place. My magic couldn’t find my puffins if they were missing, much less a stone I’ve never even seen before.”

  “Why are you being so pessimistic?”

  “Because you’re being too optimistic. And I’m not being a pessimist, I’m being a realist.” Lesya raised her flagon. “I’m not a glass is half full or half empty kind of girl. I’m a ‘this glass has water in it and it’s not enough to put out the fire we have’ kind of girl.”

  “But we...wait. I have an idea!” Rivka jumped up, almost slipping on the pile of envelopes in her haste to get to Lesya. “What if we scried for the legacy stone? Do you know how to scry?”

  “Any entry level mage knows how to scry, but it’s not always easy to get the information you need.” Lesya stretched out on one of the long crates, staring at the ceiling. “We don’t even have the tools needed to scry.”

  “What do we need?”

  “A bowl large enough to scry in, for one. How are we going to get a large bowl and enough water to fill it?” Lesya stretched out her arms wide, then settled them behind her head.

  The crates held all kinds of interesting things. She could probably find something wide enough to scry in. Rivka threw back lid after lid, scrounging through the contents of the crates for a second time.

  Lesya eased herself into a sitting position, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Looking for a bowl. I know I saw something in here earlier.” She tossed items out and pushed others over the lip of the crate as she dug her way to the bottom. Suddenly, a plume of dust rose up. Rivka fell back, coughing and waving the cloud away.

  Lesya made no move to help. “You’re fooling yourself if you think we can pull this off. You need to drop it.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith. I’ve got this!” Rivka dove back into the crate, pulling out her prize. “Look!”

  “What on earth is that?” Lesya eyed the oddly shaped container.

  Calling it a bowl was a stretch, Rivka could admit. Instead of being circular, it was more of a skinny oval with handles on each side and a lid that lay on the bottom of the trunk, covered in the thick dust that had been inside. But it could work as a vessel to hold water.

  Rivka blew into the object, coughing when another cloud of dust flew into her face. The dust swirled inside her nostrils and she sneezed. “I’m not sure what it is. It had a bunch of dust in it.”

  “Your face.” Lesya cackled. “You look like a raccoon. This should teach you to stay out of other people’s things.”

  The dust not only clung to Rivka’s face, but her shirt as well. Any effort to use the edge of her shirt to wipe her face was futile. Rivka wandered over to the trunk and pulled out one of the doll dresses to use as a towel.

  She turned back to Lesya. “Better?”

  “Yeah. What you didn’t wipe off actually covers your scales. Maybe you should leave it as a cover up...” Lesya trailed off and sat up, her eyebrows meeting her hairline. She crossed the room in two strides and snatched the would-be bowl from Rivka. “Um, Rivka? This isn’t a bowl. This is an urn.”

  “What’s an urn?” Rivka took another swipe at her neck with the other side of the dress.

  What did it matter what the bowl was so long as it held water and could be used for scrying? Rivka didn’t understand why Lesya had turned so serious.

  “An urn is what people on land use to put the ashes of their dead loved ones in.” She pointed at Rivka’s face. “That’s human body dust.”

  Rivka shrieked and dropped the dress as if it had burned her. She reached back inside the trunk for another clean dress and scrubbed furiously at her face with the new piece of fabric. “I’ve got dead people on me! Ew! Ew!”

  Lesya lost it, her peals of laughter filling the room. She grabbed her midsection and rolled on the floor, laughing so hard she started to choke.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re amused!” Rivka screeched as she flailed around and pounded the ashes out of her clothing.

  Lesya’s laughter died off into smaller giggles. She rose from the floor and took up her seat on the crate. “Are you done yet?”

  “No! See? This is what’s wrong with people on land. Why would you burn the body of your loved one and put it in a container to keep? That’s creepy.” A shudder rippled down Rivka’s spine.

  “Cremation is one of the many ways people on land honor their dead. They want to keep them close. They’re not ready to let them go.” Lesya shrugged. “Honestly, I’d rather be burned to ash than to have some monster dig me up to eat me after my loved ones had buried me. Well, if I had anyone to bury me.”

  “There are people who eat other people?” Rivka retched at the idea.

  “It’s an unforgiving, cursed land we live on,” Lesya said, all amusement in her voice gone. “Barely anything grows. Animals are dying off. Sometimes, dead people are all that’s left.”

  “Have you eaten a dead person?”

  Lesya shook her head. “I’ve been lucky. The puffins bring fish home, and their manure helps my garden produce more vegetables than usual.”

  “You grow your vegetables in bird poop? That’s disgusting, too,” Rivka pointed out. She couldn’t understand the rituals of the land-dwellers. She pushed the images of burning dead bodies and people eating other people from her mind and focused on the task at hand.

  “Okay, moving on. Now that we have a bowl, can we try to scry for this legacy stone?” Rivka held out the bowl and jostled it in front of Lesya. “Please.” She drew out the word in a long plea.

  “No,” Lesya said sharply.

  “Please?” Rivka fluttered her eyelashes. “Do it, and I’ll leave you alone for the remainder of the trip to port.”

  Lesya crossed her arms, mulling it over. “Fine. But we’re using your ration of water.”

  “I can live with that.” Rivka tipped the urn over to shake out any further traces of charcoaled human, then set it upright on the crate next to Lesya. She turned her flagon upside down over the opening and drained it. The water turned murky as it mixed with the leftover layer of ash.

  “That water is disgusting. I don’t know if we’re going to be able to get anything out of it.” Lesya hovered a hand over the makeshift bowl, whispering words foreign to Rivka.

  Miraculously, the water cleared. On the surface, an image of the ocean appeared. The scene panned out and included the shoreline. A streak of light shot through the sky.

  “What the hell is that?” Rivka leaned in to get a closer look.

  Lesya shoved her aside. “I can’t see with your head in the way.”

  “None of this makes sense. This isn’t showing us the legacy stone.”

  With a wave of Lesya’s hand, the image d
isappeared. She whispered the same words softly, lines etching her forehead.

  The water shimmered and formed into an image of a puffin bird. The bird chirped and snuggled down inside a nest. The image zoomed out and the two girls found themselves looking at the side of a mountain filled with tons of puffin nests.

  “Why are your puffins in the bowl?” Rivka grunted. This was not helping. “What did you say to the water?”

  “I didn’t ask it to show me puffins! These aren’t even mine.” Lesya tried her best to hold the magic while firing back at Rivka. “This is the side of a mountain, not a cliff.”

  “Then why—”

  “Shh. Look!” Lesya whispered. Like if she spoke too loud, she’d spook the image.

  There, in the water, an empty nest appeared. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t so empty. Inside, a stone sat nestled on a pile of feathers.

  “Is that what I think it might be?” Rivka’s mouth widened into an O. “Okay, but that doesn’t tell us where—”

  Metal scraped on the other side of the door. The key turned in the lock.

  Rivka exchanged horrified looks with Lesya.

  “Shit,” Lesya muttered.

  The pirate had returned.

  10

  Lesya

  Lesya kicked the urn out of view, sending dusty water flying behind a nearby crate.

  Rivka jumped up and stood in front of the crate, hoping her presence would distract the pirate from seeing the mess.

  “Hello, ladies,” the blond pirate said smoothly as he waltzed into the room like he owned it. He narrowed his eyes at the water sloshed over the floor. “What are you doing?”

  “Uh, hi!” Rivka waved awkwardly, her voice way too loud and unnatural.

  Lesya let her head fall into her hands. Rivka wasn’t about to win any awards for her acting. If the pirates caught them working magic, they might take things the wrong way. Lesya knew that. And she very much wanted to keep both of them alive until they made it to port.