Talon: The Windwalker Archive (Book 1) (11 page)

“
They check for stowaways thoroughly. When caught they are killed immediately,” she answered.

“
We’ll build a boat,” he offered.

“
From what wood?”

“
Jahsin could gather it.”

“
I don’t know,” said Akkeri as she rose.

The night had gotten late
, and Talon needed to get back if he was to have any strength for the mines at sunrise—only five hours off. They headed back to the village with enough supplies to give them some downtime the next night. Talon intended on using it to formulate a better plan.

He stopped walking and grabbed her arm. She tu
rned to regard him curiously as the moonlight fell upon her hair.

“
I’ll get you off this island, bring you to a place where the Vald and the Vaka can never hurt you again,” he promised.

Akkeri looked on him as she never had before. She took his face in her hands
, moving closer, closer, and their lips met. Worried his legs might give out, he pulled her close to steady them both. Her lips parted slowly and her tongue met his in a dance of yearning. The kiss lasted for a time unknown and the stars moved. He parted from her with a renewed sense of magic and wonder about the world.

That night he dared to dream of a life without violence and d
eath, a life of love and peace—a life with her.

He will see you for what you are; how, then, shall he see me?

—Gretzen Spiritbone, 4996

Talon kept his head down in the mines and avoided any trouble from Vaka Groegon all the next day. Finally the horn blared and he ran out of the mines and all the way back to the village, his mind racing with ideas.

He barged into the hut and found Akkeri and Jahsin already plotting. One of them had painted a makeshift map of Volnoss on a bit of animal hide. Talon closed the door with a suspicious eye on the village.

“You got to be more careful if we are to pull this off,” he said as he barred the door with one of the chairs.

“How are we to explain the barred door, should a Vaka come callin’?” Jahsin asked, aghast. “They’ll accuse us of…you know. That’ll put us in a bigger bind than a little map.”

“Just be careful.”

“I’m as new to this as you are,” Jahsin mumbled and produced the bottle of dwarven whiskey.

“What?” he asked with a huff when Talon rolled his eyes at him and the bottle.

“This is serious, Jah; we can’t be getting shytefaced and scheming a plan of escape.”

Akkeri ignored them both and pondered the map.

“Help me out, here,” Talon nudged her as he sat down.

“What? Oh, Jahsin, don’t be stupid, no drinking,” she said absently.

“All right! Styrkr’s f
eikin arse!” said Jahsin, stashing the bottle under his bed.

“What you got?” Talon asked, eagerly rubbing his hands together.

“We got a map on a piece of leather is what we got,” said Jahsin. “How we supposed to pull this off?”

“Not sure, Jahsin; that’s why we’re here.”

Akkeri glared at them both as if to say, are you two done?

“Let’s start with what we know,” she said. “We need to either cross the Strait of Shierdon or set out from the east. So we need to either build a raft or stow away on a boat.”

“I can gather the lumber and build a raft,” said Jahsin.

“When did you learn how to build a raft?” Talon asked.

“How hard can it be? Strap some logs together, there; you have a raft.”

“And what about a sail? Without a sail we will be going nowhere fast.”

“Dunno,” Jahsin shrugged. “I got the raft covered; you two worry ’bout the sail.”

“Just make sure she floats,” Talon told him.

“Wood floats, genius,” said Jahsin.

“This is serious; we might get killed trying to escape!” Talon snapped.

“We won’t get killed if we don’t try it!” Jahsin yelled back. “Why you always gotta be doin’ somethin’ might get you killed?”

“Shh, both of you!” Akkeri hissed.

“No one forced you into this,” Talon reminded him. “You agreed.”

“I know,” said Jahsin, losing his bluster. His shoulders dropped and he cradled his stump—his way of crossing his arms. He began to rock slowly, and Talon could tell the pressure of the escape weighed heavily on his mind.

“I’m sorry. This scares the shyte out of me,” he said.

“Me too,” Talon admitted.

“We can do this if we stay focused, stay together,” Akkeri told them.

They all shared a look. Talon offered Jahsin a nod, and his friend shook his head with a smile.

“All right, Jahsin has the lumber and the raft covered. We still need to determine our launch point,” said Talon, studying the map.

Akkeri nodded in agreement. “The fishing harbor to the northwest is far too crowded.”

“Agreed,” said Talon, thinking. He thought of his fishing spot. He had managed to go the better part of ten years undiscovered along the rocky shore.

“I’ve a spot, a little-traveled stretch of rocky shore south of the Timber Wolf village. It’s far enough away that even if we are spotted it would take them a long time to get to a boat.”

“A rocky shore will be more dangerous,” Jahsin put in.

“It shouldn’t be too bad. The waves are quiet. Long as we got good weather, we should be fine,” said Talon.

“And we can lay the parts of the raft about the rocky shore. They’ll just look like driftwood if anyone happens by,” Akkeri added.

“Good idea,” said Talon, “now we just have to get ahold of some rope.”

“I can get rope as well,” Jahsin put in, “through the underground market. I’ll make sure and get some from a number of sources so as to not rouse suspicion.”

The more they talked about the plan, the more excited they became. The thought of being free of the Vald was intoxicating. Talon imagined setting foot on Agora with his friends and beginning a new life. In Agora, anything would be possible. He and Akkeri might even open an apothecary shop in one of the cities he had heard stories of.

“It’s going to be hard to get ahold of a sail. I don’t think we could make one and keep it secret—not one big enough to be of any use,” said Akkeri.

“Probably not,” Talon agreed.

“Do any of us know anything about sails or sailing?” Jahsin asked them. They both shook their heads. “Me neither, but I know there’s more to it than just opening them up and letting the wind take you.”

“Hey!” Talon jolted upright and looked to Akkeri. “What if Majhree can get us on one of the fishing boats? There are many types of seaweed useful to her and the other healers, even by the Vald witchdoctors.”

“Yeah, but seaweed can be collected from the docks. The fishermen know to set some aside for that very purpose,” said Akkeri.

Talon thought for a moment. He knew Majhree could convince the fishermen somehow. The bigger problem would be convincing the Vaka. “Majhree can make something up about us needing to gather seaweed from the deep water, convince them the process requires special methods only we have been taught. Then we can learn a bit about how sails work.”

“Might work,” Akkeri nodded.

“We still need to get our hands on a sail, and none too big, either. We only need to go ten, twenty miles across the strait,” said Jahsin.

“Should we go that route?” Akkeri asked. “Barbarian ships aren’t allowed in those waters. What if someone sinks us, or worse, turns us back.”

“Speaking of sinking, you two ever learn how to swim?” Talon asked.

To his dismay, Jahsin and Akkeri shared an apprehensive glance.

“Well, we’re gonna have to remedy that. As far as our route, I say we cut across the strait. Who knows how far it stretches by Shierdonian reckoning? Going west we would have to make a wide berth to be sure we’re not in forbidden waters. I say we make a run across the strait. We can go under cover of darkness, maybe during the new moon.”

“Good idea,” said Akkeri.

“Good weather, and a new moon? Might be a tall order if we’re to leave before
Freista. You seen how bad the Sumar storms can be,” said Jahsin.

“We’re gonna have to hope for a bit of luck,” said Talon, earning himself a raised brow from Jahsin.

“If there is one thing you have, Tal, it’s luck.”

A few days later Talon and Akkeri were assigned to one of the fishing ships to collect seaweed. Majhree gave them two pots each to fill with water and seaweed as they had planned. The old healer thought the plan brilliant and played her part perfectly. The fishermen sounded doubts about the need to gather the seaweed without letting it touch the air, and Majhree bombarded them with made-up medical jargon—since there was no real reason—until they waved their hands in surrender. When they asked why they could not just gather from the shores, she told them seamen such as them should be embarrassed to admit they didn’t know the reason already. In the end, Majhree secured the work detail and left many confused and slightly embarrassed-looking fishermen in her wake.

Talon and Akkeri set out before the sun came up, having been told by Majhree that if the sun beat them to the docks they would be left on shore. Jahsin filled in for Talon in the mines, and Talon promised he would make it up to him.

“Nonsense,” he had said. “We’re a team.”

They reached the docks along the northwestern coast of Timber Wolf territory before the sun came up. A Vaka
that Talon had never met before strode up to them. He had the weathered, golden brown skin of a sailor, and bright blue eyes. Blond hair was tied off in a long tail running down his back. A long curved hook with a wicked point had replaced his left hand. He would have been handsome, but the tattoos entwined around his face created a fierce look like that of a black wolf.

“You two the ones gathering the seaweed?” he asked in a voice that struck Talon as oddly kind.

“Yes, Vaka…” Talon began.

“Vaka Bjorn, Captain of
Icebite
,” he said, indicating the big fishing
Skuta
at the end of a long pier.

“Yes, Vaka Bjorn,” Talon finished properly.

Many boats were setting out that morning, most being small two-man
keiprs.
Larger ships were there also, and one giant whaler. The barbarians had survived many brutal winters due to an abundance of whale blubber.

“We set out shortly,” said Vaka Bjorn, looking to the sun. “The water’s going to be rough this morning. Stay aft rail and out the way. We get to deep enough waters, we’ll put you out in a
keipr. The stuff Mahjree speaks of floats just below the surface of the deepwater. From there, you collect your weed.”

“Yes, Vaka Bjorn,” they said in unison and followed him onto the ship.

Talon took in the magnificent sight of the big, winglike sails and wondered what he had gotten himself into. Ropes and rigging hung everywhere, and he had no idea what any of it was for. Gazing up absently, he bumped into a Skomm fisherman with a big tattoo of a bear on his chest. Talon bounced off the man and fell to the deck as if he had run into a mast.

“Outta the way, Throwback!” he yelled with a glare over his shoulder. Though Talon should have been used to it by now, he couldn’t get over how some Skomm acted like they were better than others. Akkeri helped Talon to his feet, and they made their way carefully through the maze of sailors running about busily, some tying knots and securing lines and others letting loose smaller sails set about the twin masts. Talon was overwhelmed but reminded himself that they only had to use one sail. They would need a mast and rudder, however, which hadn’t really occurred to him before. The task of building and sailing a functional raft began to seem much more difficult than first imagined.

The sun broke over the horizon to the east, and Vaka Bjorn began barking orders to the Skomm sailors. Oars were set to water and the lines were drawn. A drumming began below deck, and the rowers started a steady pace that would bring them out to sea. Talon tried to keep up with everything happening on the ship, but it was impossible. He shared a wide-eyed look with Akkeri and absorbed what he could.

Vaka Bjorn seemed a good captain, though Talon had no one to compare him to. He found himself liking the man despite himself. He seemed different from any Vaka Talon had ever known. While they
had always glared at him as if he were a bug, Bjorn had an easy way about him and showed no judgment in his eyes. Maybe it was a brilliant ruse; he couldn’t be sure. He thought perhaps that was just the man’s way. But once he saw how he lit a fire under his crewmen’s arses, he dismissed the idea. Vaka Bjorn could scream commands and insults with the best of them, and his curses were like poetry, though never vulgar. He called the crewmen sea urchins, scallywags, old ladies, and
Bikkjas
, but never did he utter the names Throwback or Draugr.

“Quit staring at Bjorn; he’s going to get suspicious,” said Akkeri in a low whisper beside him at the rail.

“You ever met a Vaka who acts that way?” he asked.

Akkeri shrugged. “How do you mean?”

“I don’t know; he seems…different. The way he looked at us, the way he spoke. That whip at his hip doesn’t look like it’s ever been used.”

“Maybe it’s new,” she replied.

“I don’t think so.”

The men on the ropes swung around like monkeys from jungle stories, tying off this rope, untying that one. The big sails opened and quickly filled and bulged with the blustering wind. The boat lurched forward and steadied into a faster pace. Talon’s stomach became weak. He hoped he wouldn’t get sick and ruin the whole plan. Akkeri noticed and rubbed his back.

“Don’t fight the movement of the waters,” she suggested.

“I’m not,” said Talon.

One of the crewmen noticed her gesture and sneered at them from high up on the mast. Talon shrugged her arm off his back and she looked at him strangely.

“Up there,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t let on we’re more than friends. We don’t need more attention than we already got.”

Akkeri blushed and turned her big smile away from spying eyes to gaze after the frothing waters left in the boat’s wake. She looked embarrassed. Talon realized then what he had said. The crewman who had taken notice was still leering at them; only now his eyes fell upon Akkeri’s backside. Talon felt a flush of anger and joined her before he gave away his feelings.