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Authors: Rhiannon Hart

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BOOK: Blood Storm: The Second Book of Lharmell
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He looked at me with green eyes, the kind I had seen looking back at me many times before. My mother’s eyes. The eyes of the people of Prestoral. They held the echo of home. ‘Yes,’ he said, surprised.

‘Which part?’

‘Zantha,’ he said. ‘It’s –’

‘On the south-eastern border, at the foot of Mount Campion,’ I interrupted.

He looked even more surprised and examined my
colouring. ‘Where are you from?’

‘Prestoral.’

‘You’re never,’ he said. ‘I heard we were taking on passengers from Pergamia.’ He still studied my face. ‘But you don’t have the Pergamian look about you either. You look Amentine, but that hair . . . We have a princess whose hair is that colour and her eyes are blue like –’ He cut himself off, staring.

I smiled. ‘Is that the ginger?’ I asked, looking at the root in his hand.

Sneaking looks at me, he chopped a little and put it in a mug with hot water. ‘You need any more, you just come and ask,’ he insisted. ‘My name’s Lisson.’

I took the cup he offered. ‘Thank you, Lisson.’

He gave an awkward little bow, his cheeks flushing pink. I went back to Rodden, smiling to myself.

‘Here,’ I said, handing him the tea. Rodden still lay on the decking. ‘The first mate said I could get some privacy in the hold.’ I put a rabbit and a flask in a saddlebag, hoping no one was watching me. The rabbit squirmed suspiciously inside the canvas.

Rodden answered with a groan, which could have meant anything from ‘Oh that’s nice’ to ‘Kill me, please’.

To lend authenticity to the story of rabbits being cat and eagle food, I called Griffin onto my wrist.
Her normally sharp and clear mind felt like it had a thunderstorm brewing inside it. The gulls were still with us and she was not a happy raptor.

Inside the damp, cool hold and away from the gulls, she calmed somewhat. Now it was my stomach that was churning. I could feel the rabbit flopping around in the bag. I crouched behind a large crate and wondered how best to go about my task. I could drink straight from the rabbit down here but Rodden could hardly do that on deck. The neck of the flask was wide and I thought that if I got the angle right I could drain the blood out of the rabbit and directly into it. I considered letting the rabbit out in the hold and hunting them down with my bow and arrow. Then I saw Smokey atop a barrel, glaring down at us with amber eyes. Smokey was a big white tom with a piratical patch of black fur over one eye, and with his ragged ears and scarred nose, he looked more than capable of taking apart my fluffy white rabbit. Well, it wasn’t for him.

I held the rabbit up by its ears and unsheathed my knife. It hung limply in my hands, not even bothering to struggle. We regarded each other silently. I imagined that it had led a reprehensible life of womanising and child-beating.

It twitched its nose. I took this as a confession.

I flipped the rabbit so it was hanging upside down by its back legs and its throat was exposed. I placed the knife tip against the creature’s neck, and then paused to steady my hand and squeeze my eyes shut. I couldn’t bear the thought of sucking on its carcass in the dark. Under my breath I counted to three . . . and then plunged the point in and jerked it across and out, severing all the arteries and probably its windpipe too. There was a light spray of blood and the rabbit twitched. Then dark red liquid began to trickle over its chin and into the flask. I let myself relax a little while it drained, glad that the worst was over.

Back up on deck, Rodden seemed to have rejoined the land of the living. I’d saved a haunch for Leap but asked him to eat it elsewhere. I didn’t relish the sight of him chewing on the bloodied white fur. Griffin got a piece too and I turfed the rest of the carcass overboard when no one was looking. I avoided the accusing gazes of the fourteen remaining rabbits.

‘Are you okay?’ Rodden asked, noticing my guilty expression. He was sitting up, pale but composed for the moment.

‘Peachy,’ I muttered.

We shared the flask in silence. I licked my lips when I was done, careful that no trace of blood be
left on my mouth. ‘Feeling better?’

‘A little. Thank you for the blood.’

‘You’ve been keeping me fed for the last five months. It was about my turn.’

‘Use a knife?’

I nodded, looking away.

‘It’s not the same as hunting, is it?’ He sounded as if he knew what he was talking about. I had no doubt he did, what with all the rabbits he’d done in over the years. ‘I’m sorry you had to do it,’ he said.

I shrugged, wanting to forget the whole thing. ‘It’s fine. If you can do it, I can.’

He sighed and lay down again, covering his eyes with the crook of his elbow. ‘I’m still sorry.’

‘Shh. Be still or you’ll be sick again.’

But he muttered on, and I didn’t know if his words were directed at me or the blue sky above.

‘Deeds like that stay with you. No matter how remorseful you are or even if you have no choice in the matter, you’ll always be that person. The one holding the knife, with blood on their hands.’

‘Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.’ But I knew he wasn’t talking about me. He was talking about himself. I had felt the great lake of guilt inside him open up as he spoke.

I stayed by his side until he fell asleep, wondering
who it was he had killed.

Our days on board were monotonous: hot sun and fitful dozing punctuated by mealtimes and rabbit murdering. Rodden seemed better by day three, but on the fourth day, after a flask of blood, he turned green again.

I was standing nearby talking to Orrik as he explained how a sextant worked. ‘This here instrument,’ he said, holding up a hand-sized brass object, ‘we use for navigation. As long as the sky is clear we can use it, day or night. You look through this eyepiece at a celestial body, like the sun or the moon, and calculate its angle to the horizon. This gives us our line of position on a map, and if we’re stationary it’s accurate to about four hundred yards.’ He grinned and held it out to me.

‘Gosh, really?’ I said, trying to sound impressed as I turned the object over in my hands. I couldn’t help feeling smug that my own internal navigation could be used day or night, cloudy or clear, and with my eyes closed.

Rodden suddenly scrambled to his feet and vomited over the side. Orrik happened to be looking
in his direction and saw that Rodden’s puke was stained red.

‘Is he all right? He’s vomiting blood!’

‘No, no,’ I said. ‘We had some raspberry cordial and I thought it might make him feel better. I won’t give it to him again.’ I felt my face redden as I lied.

Orrik frowned at me.

‘Tell me some more about the sextant,’ I said.

He shook his head. ‘I’d better get back to work.’ He cast a curious look at Rodden before walking away.

I slid down next to Rodden. ‘Wonderful timing,’ I hissed. ‘You couldn’t have held on another minute?’

‘No. When it happens it happens. Get me more ginger.’

‘Get it yourself.’ I searched the eyes of the other crew members. ‘I think they’re getting suspicious. Have you noticed how they’re always watching us?’

Rodden was slumped against the rabbit hutch and didn’t answer. Griffin’s performance the previous day hadn’t done us any favours either. Tired of the taunting gulls, she’d launched herself at one in the middle of lunch. Horrified, the sailors watched as Griffin pinned the gull to the deck and proceeded to shred the bird to pieces, all the while screaming
in anger and throwing feathers into the air. It was a grisly demonstration to the other gulls of just what would happen to them if they came near her again. It didn’t endear her any to the crew.

Leap wasn’t behaving much better. He and Smokey staged showdowns every few hours, pacing in circles and glaring at each other from either ends of the ship. Leap had claimed the quarterdeck as his own and Smokey stood firm over the bow. They hadn’t crossed claws yet but trouble was definitely brewing.

‘The captain might be drunk constantly but Orrik isn’t stupid,’ I continued. ‘I’m sure he’s heard of harmings and might even have guessed that they’re behind the ship attacks.’

Rodden cracked open an eye and peered at me. ‘Orrik,’ he sneered. ‘You’re not actually impressed by him and his brass toys, are you? Fancy teaching a harming how to navigate.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Try not to throw your breakfast up where others can see you, okay?’

Later that afternoon, the wind died.

SEVEN

T
he sailors stopped what they were doing and stared about looking spooked. I found Orrik and asked him what was wrong.

‘This ain’t right,’ he told me, a haunted look on his face. ‘I’ve heard talk from other sailors of the Osseran that on the nights when ships disappear it’s like the wind has been magicked from the air – on purpose like, to leave them stranded and vulnerable.’

I nodded. ‘We’re armed,’ I told him. ‘We’ll help you fight if it comes to that.’

As the sun went down I got more ginger tea from Lisson for Rodden, though the calmness of the sea was doing wonders on its own. I strung my bow, donned my gloves and strapped a quiver of yelbar
points to my back. The sailors were sharpening their cutlasses. The rasp of whetstones on metal was the only sound.

When it was full dark Rodden struggled up and notched a bolt to his crossbow. We stood together, watching the northern horizon. Out here, without the lights of nearby cities, the sky was like black velvet scattered with diamonds. The crew had extinguished all the lanterns on board but we knew it wouldn’t make any difference. The harmings would find us.

Griffin was patrolling the area, doing wide circuits of the boat. Shortly before midnight she sounded the alarm, blasting a thought-picture into our heads so deafening I was sure even the sailors would pick it up.

‘They’re coming from the east!’ I shouted, shattering the silence. Rodden and I sprinted to the stern. A second later Griffin blasted me again – there were more brants flying up from the south.

‘I’ll take the south,’ Rodden said. ‘You stay here.’

I drew my bow and aimed at the stars. Griffin tracked the brants’ distance from the ship. One mile. Half a mile. Two hundred yards. I flexed my gloved fingers on the bow, willing myself to see through the darkness. Another picture from Griffin told me the
harmings were travelling close to the water and very fast. I adjusted my aim just in time to see the moon reflected off an enormous shiny black beak. I fired.

Then they were on us from all sides.

My arrow hit the harming full in the chest and it toppled from the saddle. The brant screamed, its wings beating against the side of the ship before it turned back into the night. I had another arrow notched in a second but I wasn’t fast enough. A nearby sailor was snatched up by a harming and hauled across the saddle of a brant. The man yelled in terror as the giant bird flew off. There were no screams of pain. Only fear. It seemed we were to be taken alive.

The sailors slashed at the brants with their swords. They were huge birds but quite nimble and the harmings were careful to hold them back.

In the dim light, and with the harmings dressed in black, it was easier to aim for the brants, but I realised my mistake when a harming toppled from its dying mount to land on the deck. Righting itself with alacrity, it dropped into a defensive stance as it was surrounded by sailors with drawn swords. The thing’s hood fell back and I saw long black hair.

‘Keep away from her!’ I yelled, my fingers fumbling for another arrow. But before I could draw, a sailor
lunged with his cutlass. The female was agile and had her blade out and stuck in the man’s belly before he could even bring his down. In the next second she had my yelbar point sprouting from her temple.

I heard the scream of a harming behind me and knew Rodden had found his mark too. There was another just about to snatch Orrik up and I fired, catching it in the neck. The harming crumpled, flickers of orange fire running through its veins. The brant, suddenly released from its rider’s mind-control, flapped wildly, its talons shredding a sail before it took wing.

The remaining harmings made a grab for sailors before turning their mounts and fleeing. I found Rodden’s thread and yanked it, hoping fervently that he hadn’t been snatched.

‘I’m here,’ he called. I caught sight of him as someone relit the lamps. He had a large, bloodied rip in his sleeve. I ran to him.

‘Blasted thing’s talon caught me after I killed its rider,’ he muttered. ‘Just a scratch.’ He caught my wrist in his hand and said in a low voice, ‘Never mind that. You and I are in big trouble. We need to get out of here.’

‘But we can’t – there’s no wind.’

‘Hence the big trouble.’

The captain stepped into the light. ‘How many taken?’

Orrik did a head count. ‘Five, cap’n.’

I heard the sailors muttering about demons from the north and blood-drinking monsters. It might have been my imagination, but some of their glares seemed to stray to us.

After he’d reported to the captain, Orrik came over to where Rodden and I stood. ‘I heard you yell that they were coming from the east a full minute before any of us saw anything,’ he said to me, eyes narrowed. ‘And you,’ he said to Rodden. ‘You said, “I’ll take the south”.’ He looked between us and I could see the distrust in his eyes. When we didn’t offer any sort of explanation he said, ‘I’ve got my eye on both of you,’ and then turned and walked away.

I could see the annoyance on Rodden’s face, but we had bigger things to worry about. He steered me out of earshot of the others. ‘One of those harmings, if not all of them, is going to realise who we are, and we’re stuck on this tub in the middle of the ocean. We’re sitting ducks. They’re not going to let an opportunity like this slip away.’ I’d never seen Rodden panic but right then there was a definite glint of alarm in his eyes.

Something had been in the back of my mind ever
since the wind died. ‘Rodden, harmings can control the weather, can’t they?’

‘No. Oh, possibly.’ He looked puzzled. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘I only ask because I think I can. Well, I can draw a breeze at least. Once. The night before we left Xallentaria –’

Rodden gripped my arms. ‘Can you summon a wind?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Can you try?’

I nodded.

He glanced at the rigging. ‘One of the sails is shredded but it shouldn’t matter. You try for some wind and I’ll keep my crossbow handy in case the harmings come back.’

I looked around for the best position. The ship was pointed west towards Pol, so we wanted an easterly. I stood in the stern and faced the sails. Rodden gave me an encouraging nod. He still looked worried, but the fear had gone from his eyes.

I realised with a strange beating of my heart that he trusted me. He had faith that I could do this.

I launched thought-fingers into the atmosphere. I curled them like hooks around the air and began dragging them towards me. Then I sent out another
set of hooks, and another and another, casting out afresh before the previous ones could get back to me.

I felt a breeze fan my face and the realisation that it was working spurred me on. The sails fluttered, and then I heard the ship creak. In another minute we were moving. I was doing it! We were going to –

A blow to my face knocked me sideways and I hit the deck hard. Pain bloomed in my cheek but I made myself look for my attacker. Orrik. My hand went to my belt but I’d left my knife with my bags. I groaned.

‘Monster!’ A fist reached back to strike me again but Rodden went crashing into Orrik, sending them both flying.

I sat up, gingerly feeling my face. My left cheek throbbed and I would have a black eye, but I didn’t think he had broken anything. I struggled to my feet as Orrik screamed abuse at me. Rodden had his arm around the man’s throat and a knife pressed into his kidneys.

‘She’s a demon! She summoned the others! We’ll all die if we let her live. You saw the light in her eyes. She’s not hu–’

Rodden must have pressed the blade harder against Orrik’s back as the man cut off what he was about to say with a strangled cry.

All on deck were staring at me.

‘Captain Krig,’ Rodden called in a clear voice.

‘Aye,’ came the reply. The captain appeared out of the darkness. ‘That’s my first mate you’re leaning your pig-sticker into.’

‘I’ll let him go in just a minute. Can you tell me if you felt a wind a moment ago?’

‘Aye.’

‘And did the wind die when your first mate punched my friend in the face?’

‘Aye.’

‘If you want to get off this ship alive you might want to let her go about her business, regardless of her glowing eyes. That’s not a threat, it’s a piece of advice. And may I remind you that she shot down two of your enemies just a short time ago.’

My eyes had been glowing? That was new.

The captain looked around at his crew. ‘Boys, I believe it may be the time for a stocktake in the hold.’

I held my breath, wondering if the captain was about to have a mutiny on his hands. But one by one the sailors turned away.

‘Thank you, captain,’ Rodden said. He watched the deck clear before finally releasing Orrik and giving him a shove. The mate spat at Rodden’s feet
and shot me a look of pure hate before following the others into the hold. Captain Krig nodded to us and then strolled after his men, hands behind his back. I was beginning to see that little ruffled him.

Rodden turned to me and asked, ‘Are you all right? Any dizziness?’

I shook my head, then regretted the action. ‘Ow. No. Just a headache. I can still call the wind, I think.’

He sheathed his knife and reached again for his crossbow. ‘Whenever you’re ready.’

It took longer this time, owing to the pounding in my head, but I knew it was working when I heard Rodden puking over the side. Griffin was doing circuits of the ship again and so far there was no sign of harmings. After a quarter of an hour I felt us move into the path of a north-easterly. I got my hooks into this natural wind and pulled it towards us. The ship surged forwards.

‘Is that you? It’s as strong as a trade wind,’ Rodden called.

I laughed. ‘It’s me, of sorts! I found us a real wind. You’d better get the captain before we’re blown off course.’

I kept the wind blowing hard all night. It was a lot easier going than whipping up a breeze out
of nothing. Sailors replaced the torn sail and the captain stood at the helm, the wheel in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other. Rodden stayed close by but Orrik didn’t reappear.

Around dawn I swayed on my feet and had to let the wind go. We slowed, but the natural north-easterly kept the ship moving. Rodden, despite his nausea, got up from where he was slumped and helped me back to our sleeping place. I didn’t need much encouragement to collapse onto my cloak.

Rodden sat next to me and smoothed the hair from my face, checking my swollen cheek. ‘Well, aren’t you full of surprises. Anything else I should know about you?’

‘My face hurts.’

His eyes darkened. ‘I could kill Orrik.’

‘Did my eyes really light up?’

‘Yes.’

‘I feel oddly proud.’

‘As you should. You saved us all.’

I awoke a few hours later to blinding white sunlight and a pounding headache. My mouth was dry and tasted like I’d hit the bottle along with the captain.
With careful fingers, I tested the puffiness of my left cheek. The skin was stretched and firm like a tomato, and was probably as red as one, too. Rodden was still sleeping, his skin sickly pallid against the black stubble on his chin.

I eased open the rabbit hutch and stuffed one of the unfortunate creatures into my saddlebag. The poor things didn’t like the sea voyage any more than Rodden: they were getting decidedly skinny.

I made my way to the hold, but before I could enter its dark and cool interior, a figure blocked my path.

‘What’s in your bag?’ It was Orrik. His face was hard and mean.

I clutched the strap higher on my shoulder. ‘Nothing.’

But the squirming of the rabbit gave me away. Orrik snatched the bag from my shoulder and held it aloft like a prize.

‘You lot!’ he called, and the crew turned to look. ‘What do you reckon the demon has here? Have you seen how those rabbits have been disappearing, day by day?’ He fumbled around in my bag.

‘They’re meat for Leap and Griffin,’ I insisted, trying to take the bag from him. Orrik gave me a shove that sent me reeling backwards.

He pulled the rabbit out of the bag by its ears. ‘Have you seen her sneaking away to gut these creatures at her leisure? To feast on their blood? She feeds her demon lover too! I seen ’im, puking blood. They need to be got rid of. They need to be tossed overboard before they summon more of their kind to kill us all! Haven’t they been nothin’ but trouble since they were brought aboard?’

I searched the eyes of the crew, and I could tell from their glares and nods that they agreed.

‘Captain Krig!’ I called, desperate for his calming presence.

Orrik rounded on me, his eyes wild, the whites showing all around. ‘That fat bastard’s sleeping it off. I’m in charge now,’ he hissed.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Rodden had awoken at last and was struggling to his feet.

‘Boys!’ Orrik shouted, spittle flying from his lips. ‘Throw him overboard before we’re all murdered or taken in the night.’

Four sailors descended on Rodden. I ran to help him fight them off but Orrik grabbed a fistful of my hair and stopped me with a cruel yank.

‘We’re on your side, you idiots,’ Rodden was saying as he struggled. ‘Let her go! Let me go or you’ll bloody regret this.’

BOOK: Blood Storm: The Second Book of Lharmell
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