The Gantean (Tales of Blood & Light Book 1) (17 page)

“I told you, Atanurat’s got her. Pamiuq and Lymbok are getting Atanurat into their boat now. That means you or I have to go with Amethyst and get out of here. Amethyst doesn’t know how to row.”

“Tianiq!” I said again, utterly disoriented. I couldn’t move past what had happened in Yaqi. The severed cord that had connected me to my daughter dangled in my mind, a dead, lifeless tendril.

“You take Amethyst,” Miki told Merkuur. “I’ll help Leila. We’ll catch up.”

Merkuur pushed an escape boat to the ship’s edge, where Amethyst stood, quivering. He helped her in and lowered the boat, climbing in himself at the last moment. Miki set the mooring loose for them. I huddled next to the last boat, barely able to think. I had lost Tianiq.

“Leila, we have to go. We’ll meet up with them back on shore. We’ll go get Tianiq.”

I settled into the escape boat, hugging Tiriq against me. He mewled softly, too tired to scream. Miki eased the ropes down, front and back. We lurched as we hit the water. I took up one of the oars and shoved away from the doomed
Northern Wind
.

Miki set our course as we frantically paddled away from the wreck. The sea had fallen eerily calm moments after we hit the water, but we could not see any of the others on the flat waters, as if the uncanny storm had washed them away.

“Miki,” I said, my voice trembling in shock, “Where is everyone?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I set the course just how they said.”

Our oars splashed, breaking the ocean’s new stillness.

“That was no natural storm,” Miki said, frowning as he looked up at the cloudless sky.

I shook my head. “The Layers opened. Miki, there was a creature, a horrible, tentacled thing. It took Tianiq right from my arms! I didn’t drop her! She—” I could not bring myself to say what the creature had done, severing me from Tianiq. Miki would not understand. He would have told me to cut the cord long ago.

“A creature?” asked Miki. “What kind of creature? I didn’t see one.”

I shuddered and cradled Tiriq close, resting my oar on my lap. “It was the Cedna, Miki. Only the Cedna could command such blackstone magic. She—wanted Tianiq.” I recalled, vaguely, the vision that had visited me during childbirth. The Skeleton Woman made of the Hinge’s crystals had wanted my children even then. Why? To feed the Hinge? Why them?

“Why would the Cedna want Tianiq?” Miki echoed my own thoughts. “And why would she call such vicious storm against us?”

“I don’t know. Miki, did you see, for certain, that Atanurat got her? That she didn’t fall in or—or drown?” Tears threatened to overwhelm me again. Was all this some kind of punishment cast down upon me for failing to do what Nautien had asked of me? Distress coursed through my body, colder than the air starting to creep under my skins with the darkening sky.

“He got her,” Miki assured me.

Tiriq whimpered forlornly beneath my cloak, but I couldn’t comfort him because I needed to row with Miki. I couldn’t comfort myself, either.

We paddled into the darkness, watching the moon’s face begin to glow. The tiny slivers of its light refracted off the water, making tempting paths to follow.

“
M
iki
!
Do you see that?” I pointed towards a black shape on the horizon, clipping along much faster than we could. Hope and dread filled me in equal parts. The approaching ship might represent our rescue or further peril. The vessel materialized in the haze, square-rigged, as black as a raven. From its slowing pace, I guessed we’d been seen.

“I can’t read the name.” I squinted across the sparkling sea.

“It’s the royal emblem.” Miki gestured at the flag on the main mast: a golden flower on a grey field, the sigil of House Galatien. My heart veered away from hope and back towards dread.

But what choice did we have? A night on the waters had convinced us that Merkuur’s directions towards nearby land had gone awry. Miki could only use his sunwalking skill to get to places he’d been, and all his known destinations were too far away for rowing. We took up our oars and paddled towards the black ship.

As we approached, I deciphered the fancy lettering on the boat’s hull:
Lady Tourmaline
. A pale face peeked over the gunwale.

“Our ship was destroyed in yesterday’s storm,” I called in my best unaccented Lethemian. “Can you help us?”

The boy on deck said nothing.

“Get the ladder down!” another voice called. The boy scurried to the rail.

Hands clutched the gunwale. A man leaned over the edge to look down upon us. “By the gods,” he said. “The damned mage was right. I thought he’d lost his mind.”

“Sir, we were shipwrecked in the storm and forced to take escape boats,” I explained.

“I am Kercheve, and I am the captain here. Name your downed ship.”

“
Northern Wind
, a trade vessel out of Anastaia.” My throat hurt from dryness.

The man waved us towards the ladder. Miki scrambled up while I held onto the bottom. I ascended slowly, careful of Tiriq in the net bag around my shoulders. I repressed a lurch of worry about Tianiq and focused on the moment.

“Where’s the rest of your crew?” the slender captain demanded once we stood upon his deck. He wore plain grey garb similar to that worn by Costas’s manservant in Galantia.

“We got separated. The storm was so violent and sudden that we got blown off course. Have you seen no others like us in small boats?” My voice shook. Tianiq and the others were safe; they
had
to be.

“No, but we felt the storm. I’m traveling with a mage who believes it was a spell-cast thing.”

The man and I exchanged wary looks. I did not like that he had a mage with him.

His brown hair was cropped short and stuck out from his head in spikes. He looked no older than me, but he carried himself with the trained grace of a warrior. He stared at Tiriq curled against me in the sack.

“Is that a baby? Amatos!” The man gestured to the ship’s boy who hovered behind him. “Take the child.”

I wrapped an arm around Tiriq. “No. He stays with me.”

The man, Kercheve, scowled, but didn’t push the point. He jerked his head at Miki. “You know your way around a ship, boy?”

Miki nodded, his eyes narrow and suspicious. Kercheve gestured towards the other boy. “Then we can find you something to do. You.” He pointed at me. “Follow me.”

He led me to a lushly furnished cabin below the decks. I did not like being separated from Miki. I tried to keep calm by stroking Tiriq’s silky hair, but I missed Tianiq’s head beside his, and so I only felt worse.

Built-in divans lined the walls of the cabin. Another man, this one wearing the white robes of a lien-bound mage, sat on one of the benches.

I clutched Tiriq closer.

The mage rose, eyebrows lifted. “Oh, well done, Allian,” he said to the captain. “You found her.”

Kercheve gestured to the benches. “Have a seat, my lady.”

His courtesy surprised me. I moved gingerly into the cabin, wishing I could return to Miki.

Both men scrutinized Tiriq in my arms as I approached. Kercheve snapped his fingers and pointed at Tiriq. The mage rose, arms outstretched as though to take him.

“I lost my daughter in the storm. You cannot have my son.” Why did my words always waver whenever I needed them to be the firmest?

“We’d like to examine both you and the child,” Kercheve said. “With your permission, of course.”

“We require no examination.” That came out with more resolve.

The mage moved quickly, flourishing his fist through the motions of Lethemian magic. That horrible magical stillness crawled up my limbs—he used his power to hold me in place like a trapped animal. The magical languor prevented any motion but breath. The mage extracted Tiriq from my stiffened arms.

I could not even speak. I watched helplessly as the mage set Tiriq on the nearby desk and cast more magic over him. Had I the ability, I would have screamed, or cried, or both. Kercheve hurried to the man’s side.

The mage, bleary in trance, murmured, “Yes. Yes, by the gods”

Kercheve swept down over Tiriq and lifted him from the table. The fact that he held my boy gently, almost delicately, comforted me only a little.

I almost managed to break through the silencing grip of the mage’s magic when Kercheve left the cabin with Tiriq, but even as I opened my mouth to scream, no sound emerged. I gave up the struggle and waited for the moment when his magic released, ready to take advantage of any opportunity.

“We know who you are,” the mage said, giving me another assessing look. “We’ve been tracking you.” He indicated the center of my chest. “It’s a tedious task, and draining.”

A shiver of concern prickled along my spine, an itch I could not scratch.

The mage circled me, once, twice, never releasing me from the spell that held me inert. “Prince Costas has been looking for you everywhere,” he added. “And he isn’t the only one. Mydon Galatien gave orders for you to be killed on sight. Thank the gods Allian and I found you first, though it was inevitable. Mydon Galatien has no sense when it comes to his mages. None of his could have tracked you so quickly. I’m Jerram Oruscani. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

His question could not have been sincere, since he knew very well I currently lacked the power of speech.

Kercheve returned, asking the mage, “Have you aether-sent to Costas yet?”

The mage shook his head, cupping his yellow magestone in hand. “I have a bad instinct about this. I don’t think we should tell him we found her. She’s bound to drive the wedge further between Costas and his father. We cannot afford their discord, not with Xander Ricknagel mobilizing his army in the east. Better we never take her to Galantia at all.”

Kercheve frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Costas ordered us to return her immediately.”

“Can we restrain her in some fashion other than magic? It will tax me less, and I hate to waste aetherlight when I am so far from a Source. Tracking is draining work. I’m nearly tapped.” I did not understand the mage’s words.

Kercheve turned to a trunk pushed against the far wall of the cabin and removed a coil of rope. I could do nothing as he tied my wrists. He met my gaze with cool grey eyes that gave away nothing. “There,” he said, turning back to Oruscani. “She’s secure. You can release her.” He bowed to me. “I’m sorry, my lady. This is only a temporary situation.” He glanced over at the mage with a look of subtle distaste. “The message, Oruscani. We must alert Costas that we have her.”

“I don’t think—”

“Where d—d—id you take my son?” I stammered as the air of magic finally softened around me, turning my blood from frozen ice to cold sludge.

“I put him in my cabin,” Kercheve said, offering yet another bow. “Please, my lady. Call me Allian.” He pulled up his left sleeve and exposed the inside of his right forearm, showing a magemark not unlike the one on my shoulder, except this one depicted the Galatien flower sigil circled by a serpent. “That is the mark of a Dragonnaire, Costas’s elite cohort,” he explained. “I am Costas’s man, blood and breath. You need have no fear that I will harm Costas’s son.”

I gasped. Now I understood what the mage had seen when he examined Tiriq. Equal parts relief and upset coursed through me. They would not hurt Costas’s child—of that I was sure—but neither would they let him go. My mind raced as I tried to strategize a way to escape, but aboard the ship, my only weapon would be patience.

“An aether-sending, Oruscani,” Allian Kercheve barked. “Now—we have no time to wait. Costas needs to know.”

Oruscani grunted. “Fine, though I think it unwise.”

What would Costas ask them to do with me?
Oruscani busied himself with his magical communication while Kercheve moved to the desk and picked up a stylus and paper.

I could not predict the emotional tenor of Costas’s reaction at all. I did not know him well enough, but I feared what he might do.

I stared down at my bound hands. With a small, surreptitious wriggle, I managed to pull free the Cedna’s ulio that I kept in my pocket.

I could not hesitate. I inched carefully towards Oruscani, focusing all my attention on my target: a spot on the mage’s white flowing robe, below where I imagined his ribs were located.

Allian Kercheve flashed in my side vision, leaping impossibly across the desk. Before I could shove my knife into the mage’s side, my shoulders wrenched against sudden resistance.

Kercheve knocked the ulio from my bound hands using two short blades that he wielded with expert control. “Lift your hands,” he snapped. “You would have deserved it had you lost a finger. Now, sit down.” He pointed towards the benches along the wall with one of his blades.

Oruscani lurched around Kercheve and hissed, “You little barbarian bitch! Did you just try to stab me?”

Oruscani reached for me. Kercheve put his hand on the mage’s arm and said in a voice of steel, “The aether-sending, Oruscani. Do it now! I’ll manage the girl.”

Oruscani did not obey Kercheve’s command, instead glaring down at me with black anger shading his face.

I sat like a chastised child before them. Sudden pain bit into me so deeply that I screamed; I could not help myself. I fell forward to the floor. Oruscani stood above me, waving his damned magestone as though snapping a whip. Strikes flared down my back, searing and burning as deeply as any real lash. I bit the inside of my cheeks until they bled.

Kercheve turned on the mage with his double blades, but Oruscani flicked his stone almost nonchalantly and froze him where he stood.

Oruscani took me by the hair and hauled me up from the floor, a look of demented rage twisting his face. He pulled so hard I thought my neck would break as he bent my head back. “No one attacks a mage and gets away with it,” he seethed.

As my vision began to darken, the pressure on my head lifted. Oruscani tumbled forward and crashed into me with all his weight.

Liquid rained over me; for a confused moment I thought he had doused me with warmed wine.

I grabbed hold of the bench behind me and squirmed free of his bulk. He made a fleshy, gurgling sound that chilled my blood.

I stared down at myself. Hot crimson coated my body. Blood drizzled down in rivulets on my arms.

Oruscani lay face down, his life seeping into the carpet around him. I nearly screamed again. I looked around frantically, expecting to find Kercheve cleaning one of his knives, though I could not fathom why he would kill his own ally.

Instead, before me stood Miki. He clutched the Cedna’s ulio in his right hand, but his eyes were as vacant as an addict’s. He dropped the knife as he crumpled to his knees.

I followed him down, making soothing murmurs in the universal tongue of mothers. Though he allowed me to hold him, his body shook like a captured wolf pup, too small to strike out, too terrorized to relax. I held him close, sliding my hands over his shivering shoulders. He had gone slack against me.

I looked up. Kercheve, unfrozen, tucked his blades into his sleeves and bent to heave Oruscani onto his back. “Lord Amassis above,” he said. “What a fucking mess.” He strode to the chamber door. “What in the damned hells of Amatos am I going to say to Costas about this? His most powerful mage, murdered on his own ship? I disliked Oruscani, I’ll admit, he had all the typical annoying foibles of a mage, but fucking hells!” He called into the hall for some of his men, snapped the door closed, and then faced us.

Miki hissed, baring his teeth like a wild animal. I put my hand on his shoulder, ignoring Kercheve.

“Miki, go find Tiriq,” I urged. “Bring him back to me.” Miki raced towards the door. Kercheve grabbed him. Miki twisted free, only to be caught again by Kercheve’s second hand. The man was fast.

“Please,” I begged. “Tiriq’s too young to be apart from me.”

Kercheve stared at me. “If you think I’m going to let this dangerous creature run around my ship freely, you’ll need to think again.” He steered Miki towards a chair bolted down to the ship’s floor and shoved him into a seat.

Two more men, both clad in Galatien uniforms I recognized from my time in the High City, came into the cabin.

“Tie up this murderous little urchin,” Kercheve said to his men, still clutching Miki’s shoulder, “and put him in the brig. Then we’ve got to deal with the mage’s body.”

The two men hurried to obey his orders.

“Miki’s my brother,” I said, hoping to help exonerate him. It wasn’t exactly a lie, though Ganteans did not generally refer to those outside their own tiguat as siblings. “He was only protecting me from the mage, and I—”

Kercheve frowned at me and pointed at my shoulder. “You’re bleeding. We need to get you cleaned up. Amatos, Costas is going to flay me for all this.” He grasped my arm. “Come lie down, my lady, and let me see what Oruscani did to you.”

As he pulled me to the divans lining the cabin, his men dragged Miki away. The boy had fallen into an ominous silence—showing once again that he had not abandoned the stoic Gantean manners as thoroughly as I had.

“Please, you must understand, my brother—”

“I’ll deal with him as fairly as I can, my lady,” Kercheve said stiffly. “I’m sure Costas wouldn’t want me to upset you, but the boy killed a mage. There will be consequences.”

Sayantaq tears pricked my eyes. “What about my son? Tiriq? Please, bring him back.” I dared to beg because as he examined my stinging wounds, Kercheve displayed both gentleness and a little compassion. He also struck me as loyal to Costas. I debated whether to ask him to search for Tianiq and the others, but if what Miki said was true, and Atanurat had managed her rescue, I feared seeking them out would only endanger them. Tianiq was with Atanurat. I had to trust him to see her safe. The void where her bloodcord had been ached inside me.