Stonemaster

by C. E. Murphy

  I'll tell her you asked. You figured what out?" Hassin was a dark shadow against the dim light that spilled through from the lower decks, but Rasim could see the curiosity in his eyes.

  "That we don't have to move the ship!"

  Hassin arched an eyebrow and Rasim flapped his hands impatiently.

  "We just have to move the water around it. Not all of it, just enough of it. Like playing ships in water barrels." He brushed his fingers in a long line, mimicking the movement they'd used when they played that game. "We make a corridor of moving water around the Waifia, deep enough that the current can't snatch it back, but not much wider than the ship. It'll work, Hassin."

  The first mate pursed his lips. "A current of our own under the ship. That might work. It'll be difficult with this much displacement and the ocean's pull to fight against, but it might just work."

  Triumph splashed through Rasim and was instantly quashed. "Maybe you shouldn't tell the captain it was my idea."

  Even in the dim light, Hassin's surprise was obvious. "It might turn the tide in your favor."

  "Or it might make her even angrier. She told me to figure it out.

  I don't think she really meant it. Besides, Isidri just told us it doesn't matter who gets the credit, right? What matters is that we make it to land."

  A long silence met that argument, before Hassin sighed. "You're a far-sighted lad, Rasim. All right. I'll suggest it and let her think it was my idea, but if we get home safe, I'll be telling Guildmaster Asindo the truth."

  "Fair enough." Rasim settled back onto his hard bunk and picked up the water flask gratefully. "Thanks for this, Hassin."

  "You're welcome. And if you feel the ship surge in a few minutes, know that I'm thanking you as well."

  That was higher praise than anything Rasim could ask for from Nasira. He beamed and ducked his head, not even minding when he was again left alone in the dark. Several minutes later the ship did surge. Rasim bit back a cheer, afraid Nasira would hear it and deduce the truth. Hours passed, long enough for night to fall, and Hassin returned with more food and a wink of approval.

  Happy despite the circumstances, Rasim ate and fell asleep, barely even hearing the whistle blasts that marked shift changes.

  From the light pouring into the hold and the relative brightness of the brig, it had to be twelfth bell, the hottest and brightest

  time of day, when he had his next visitor. To his surprise, it was Nasira, who flung the door open with an angry smile of satisfaction creasing her features.

  "We're making landfall," the captain announced. "I'm putting you off the ship."

  Chapter Eight

  They were nowhere ; that much was obvious from the position of the sun and the cold air. Rasim stumbled coming up from below, his eyes not fully adjusted to daylight's brightness. They hadn't been at sea long enough to reach the Island nations, never mind to sail far enough north to reach Lorens's homeland. The Northern prince had stayed out of shipboard politics, but he was among the gathered crew now, as Rasim followed in Nasira's wake.

  A shadow blurred the horizon in a distant announcement of land.

  Rasim's gaze latched onto it, his thoughts racing. It couldn't be much land, or it would be on the Ilyaran charts. Come nightfall he might be able to determine where he was by the position of the stars, but he already knew it was too far to swim to a larger island, much less civilization. And winters in the Islands might not be as harsh as they were in the North, but storms coming off the sea could kill as easily as cold or snow. Surviving on an island too remote for the Ilyaran fleet to bother mapping would be—

  Rasim clenched his fists like he could stop his speeding thoughts with the action. There was no use in borrowing the trouble. Maybe the tiny island would prove more hospitable than he was imagining. Either way, he'd find out soon enough. He set his jaw and drew himself up to his full, unremarkable height. Nasira could put him off the ship, but she wouldn't, by Siliaria's teeth, see him sniveling when she did it.

  "We'll use the currents to put in to shore," Nasira snapped.

  "We'll scavenge what we can to make rope for our sails, and when we leave, we'll leave this troublemaker behind."

  A collective gasp ran through the crew, but Nasira glared them down. "I'll not risk my ship or my crew to mad sun witches."

  Someone—Rasim couldn't see who, and the voice was low enough that quietness disguised it—muttered, "So he's a sun witch now after all, is he?"

  If Nasira could have commanded sun witchery, Rasim thought she'd have done it in that moment. Rage blasted off her with a heat of its own. "I don't believe it for a minute, but he's the fulcrum of this nonsense. I’ll put off anyone else who's been mixing magic studies too, to keep us safe."

  Kisia made a small triumphant sound and stepped forward defiantly. Rasim winced, wishing she wasn't quite so eager to tar herself with his brush, but grateful for her steadfast friendship, too.

  "All of you, then," Nasira snarled at Kisia. "You and all of his friends. Desimi. Sesin." Her gaze even flickered to Hassin, but she held that threat behind her teeth. Hassin's expression never changed, but Rasim felt a spike of black humor. Journeymen were low enough ranking that the crew might not be brave enough to stand up and support them, but Hassin was second in command and well-liked. Nasira would be a fool to try throwing him off the ship too. "The Sunmaster journeymen will go too," Nasira snapped.

  "I won't have them on my ship."

  A murmur ran through the crew, disbelief and uncertainty. Rasim closed his eyes momentarily, no longer thinking about his island fate. Nasira's anger would see her in a serpent's maw, if she wasn't careful. A captain's word was law shipboard, but the king himself had sent them on this journey, and this crew was used to Asindo's lighter touch. Nasira could push them too far, and bring mutiny on herself. Someone would speak soon, and this would go from bad to worse. Rasim tried to catch Hassin's eye, hoping to signal to the first mate that he not challenge Nasira. They would be in far worse trouble if Hassin mutinied and lost.

  Lorens, softly, unexpectedly, said, "No."

  Silence swallowed the crew's voices. Rasim's heart leaped, then fell again in a nervous pattern twice as fast as normal. Nasira turned by slow degrees to look for the one who had dared to speak. Lorens's lips twitched in faint amusement. Nasira's face went black with anger. "You are in no position to forbid anything. This is my ship."

  "And Rasim is the invited guest of my royal mother," Lorens said mildly. "I can hardly imagine she'll be very welcoming to any treaties if the boy she specifically requested is not among the Ilyaran envoy. Of course, if you wish to risk the anger of two monarchs, by all means." He flicked his fingers at Rasim dismissively. "Put him off the ship. Let him fend for himself on a barren island. I might remind you, though, that this particular lad seems to thrive in impossible situations. Gods know how he'll come out on top if you do leave him here, but I wouldn't want to explain myself to King Taishm when Rasim washes up on his shores again."

  Rasim could see fear first take the strength from Nasira's anger, then turn to anger itself. He understood that: it felt better to be angry than afraid, a lot of the time. In this case, though, he wished Nasira would choose fear over anger, since it was his own fate being decided.

  "I'm sorry." Lorens sounded bland and not in the least apologetic. "I'm afraid I'm putting you in an awkward position, aren't I, Captain? Please, let me put this to you as a request from a foreign dignitary. Leave the children aboard ship until we reach the North. My own fleet will take them home, when our business is concluded. You'll be obliged to deal with them for as little time as is possible. I swear this on my honor as my mother's son." By the time he finished, his voice and eyes were absolutely sincere, though Rasim was certain the Northern prince was only putting on a performance.

  Still, it was what Nasira needed to back down gracefully. Or as gracefully as she could, at least. She spoke stiffly, anger glittering in her eyes. "In the name of peace between our nations, it is of course my
pleasure to accede to your request, Highness. But there will be no more practice of sunwitchery on my ship."

  Lorens smiled brilliantly. "Of course not. I think we can all agree that was a terrible mistake, and that it's only through Seamaster Hassin's cleverness that we're not all to be stranded at sea after such an accident. I will commend you to my mother, Hassin."

  A pained smile shaped Hassin's mouth and he carefully didn't look at Rasim. "Thank you, Highness. If I may, Captain, Desimi would be of use in getting us close to shore—"

  Nasira nodded once, sharply. As if they'd been released from chains, the crew suddenly burst into action, dozens of them returning to the work of shaping the currents that carried them across the water. Others ran to the stern, where Rasim saw the ship's rowboats had been rescued after all, and stacked precariously. He wondered where poor Milu had been sleeping, but thought it was better not to draw attention to himself by asking.

  Instead, he slipped away from Nasira and the crew's bustle, knowing that his own witchery was too weak to help with the heavy but delicate work of moving the Waifia closer to shore. The best he could do was take the prow and send his senses deep, searching for sandbars and reefs that might catch the Waifia as it made landfall.

  Lorens joined him at the prow, yellow hair stirring wildly in the wind. He brushed a few strands back, tucking them behind his ear.

  The wind seized them again and he chuckled. "I see why you Seamasters wear your hair long and braided. Are you all right, Rasim?"

  "Thanks to you."

  "You'd have come out on top. What's the captain's problem?"

  "Same as Desimi's used to be, I guess. Hassin said she lost her family to the Great Fire, so she probably hates all Northerners."

  The Northern prince glanced down at him. "Do you think of yourself as a Northerner?"

  "Nah." The water in front of them changed colors subtly. Rasim extended his hands, trying to feel danger beneath the water's surface, and called, "Two degrees to port, Hassin, there's shallow water ahead." He waited until the ship's direction altered, then spoke to Lorens again. "I might not be much of a witch, but if I was Northern-raised I wouldn't be able to do that at all. And I look Ilyaran."

  "All but the eyes," Lorens agreed.

  Rasim crossed his eyes like he could see their color. "I forget they're green. I don't see them very often, and there are other Ilyarans with my skin tones, so sometimes it surprises me when people guess I've got Northern blood just by looking at me.

  Anyway, a lot of Ilyarans hate the Northerners, and you'll have just made it worse for Nasira by making her back down. But I'm glad you did." The island came into focus as they drew closer and Rasim shivered. "I'm really glad you did."

  It was not hospitable territory. Black and sharp, it looked like it had just been coughed up by the ocean. Rasim couldn't see any glow that said hot rock was still being spat forth, but neither did he see any hint of vegetation or bird life. Resourceful or not, he saw very little chance that he could have survived on such a bleak land. They would be lucky to find anything to use as ropes, and if they couldn't, it would be a wrecked and weary crew that finally made port in the North.

  "As am I." Lorens frowned at the upcoming island. "Rasim, was it you?"

  "Was wh—the rope fire? No. I mean, I don't see how it could have been, and...did you see Daka's expression after it happened?"

  "Daka." Lorens made a motion, suggesting the smaller Sunmaster journeyman's height. Rasim nodded, and Lorens shook his head.

  "No. What was it?"

  "She looked enraptured. She looked..." Rasim fumbled for words, gesturing uselessly as he did. "Witchery comes from within. When it works right it's wonderful. Like you're connected to your element. There's nothing like it. It's like...like flying," he said helplessly. "It feels like you're everything. Like you're free.

  And that's how she looked when the ropes burned. Like the magic had taken her. But she would have to be crazy to do that on a ship at sea."

  "Like it had taken her," Lorens said thoughtfully. "Does that ever happen? Does anyone ever give themselves up entirely to their witchery? Kill themselves with it?"

  With a shudder, Rasim recalled Isidri's weakness after she'd saved the city. "I've never heard of it, but I don't guess it's something they'd tell us about. I don't even think most witches would be able to. I think you'd have to be awfully powerful in the first place. Like Guildmaster Isidri." Or Desimi, he thought, but kept it to himself.

  "Is Daka?"

  Rasim shook his head. "I don't know. But..." He lowered his chin to his chest with a sigh. "No. Sun-master Endat would have said, if it had been her. Wouldn't he?"

  "I'm not sure." Lorens leaned on the railing, frowning at the water below. "From what I came to understand while in Ilyara, the Sunmasters look out for themselves first."

  The Waifia dipped as an undercurrent caught the witchery being worked. Rasim's stomach dipped too, even deeper than the ship's pitch accounted for. For a few seconds the air filled with voices, warnings flying about strong waves and bringing the ship safely in to shore, and for those same few seconds, his own mind rang with different warnings.

  The Northern prince had just challenged the Waifia 's captain to keep Rasim safe. That was not the act of a man trying to hide his own involvement in the attempted assassination of a king. That memory came back to Rasim in a rush, though. Lorens had looked so cold, so calculating, and so obviously guilty to Rasim's eyes, with the Island lord Roscord dead at his feet. Rasim had thought—

  believed— in that moment, that Lorens had killed Roscord to hide his own involvement in the attempt on King Taishm's life. But it would have been easy for Lorens to support Nasira and be rid of Rasim just now, if the Northern prince had anything to hide. A knot loosened beneath Rasim's heart. Maybe he'd been unreasonably suspicious, after all.

  Captain Nasira barked orders, dragging Rasim's attention away from his own thoughts. "We can't go closer without beaching her!

  Drop the rowboats! Hassin, take a crew of eight to shore. The rest of us will hold the Waifia in the surf, since we've no anchor rope." The furious look she shot at Rasim made his cheeks heat. "Take the troublemaker," she snarled at Hassin. "I don't want him on my ship any more than he has to be."

  Hassin nodded and beckoned Rasim without changing expression, then called half a dozen others, including Kisia. Desimi stepped forward, but Hassin shook his head. "I'd like to have you, lad, but holding the Waifia steady in these waves will take witchery such as yours."

  Conflict swept Desimi's face. He was obviously flattered to be considered necessary on the Waifia , but equally dismayed not to be one of the explorers. But he didn't argue, and Hassin looked

  pleased. Desimi's shoulders straightened at this sign of the first mate's approval, and Hassin clapped his shoulder as he passed by on the way to the rowboats. A dozen crew heaved the topmost boat onto their shoulders as Hassin reached them. He inspected it briefly, then lifted one hand, palm upward.

  Whitecap waves surged up, caught in his witchery. Sea water flowed over the ship's rail and grasped the bottom of the rowboat, taking its weight from the crew. Hassin grunted, but others came to help, their witchery blending with his until the rowboat floated gently over the rails and hung in a fountain of water by the Waifia 's side. Hassin stepped across the rails into the rowboat and flashed a grin at his small crew as they too came aboard. "This is much more elegant than sliding down ropes into the rowboats. We should do this all the time."

  "This is a lot more trouble than sliding down ropes," someone else muttered. Hassin laughed in agreement, and cast the captain a sharp open-palm salute as the witches lowered the rowboat into the sea.

  Nasira glowered at them all, and at Rasim in particular. "Listen for our whistle. If danger approaches, you'll know by its blast."

  Chapter Nine

  "There's nothing going to be here," one of the crew said as soon as they were out of Nasira's earshot.

  Hassin glanced at the woman and s
he subsided, though her sentiment was clearly shared by the others. Rasim muttered,

  "There has to be," at his hands, and the same woman gave him a look as cold as any Nasira had bestowed on him.

  "Captain's right. We should put you off here, no matter what that Northern prince says. He's got no business ordering a Seamaster around, especially after his own people near killed Guildmaster Isidri. First they burned Ilyara, then they half froze it, and now Taishm wants to make treaties? The royal line's more than weak. It's gone soft in the head."

  "Shut up, Missio!" Kisia's thighs bunched like she would launch herself at the crewman, but Hassin spoke quietly instead.

  "Kisia. Missio." Warning filled both names, though there was far more emphasis on the second. Rasim gave Kisia a faint, appreciative smile, but Missio scowled darkly and left Rasim to shift uncomfortably. He had spent years dealing with Desimi's dislike, but the older guildmembers disdaining him so openly was much worse. A lot of accidents could happen ship-board, if too many of the sailors felt like Missio and Nasira did.

  "There's a bit of a harbor yon," said another of the rowboat's crew, and for a little while they were occupied with bringing the boat in safely to shore.

  Even Hassin looked dismayed when they leaped to the barren rock, though. Craggy fresh stone rose from the water, with tide pools lying here and there, but the barnacles and crabs in those pools were the only immediately visible life on the island. Hassin looked around grimly, then broke the crew into two groups with a few points of his fingers. "It's not a big island. You four head around it to the right, we'll go to the left. Break into pairs when you reach higher ground that needs exploring, but don't go off alone. Siliaria alone knows what's hidden in this rock."

  He hesitated, looking at Missio and Rasim, who were in the same group, but Rasim shook his head. If Missio—or anyone—thought he needed Hassin's protection, then he would become that much more of a target. Hassin nodded, then glanced at the sun. "Move as quickly as you can. Best to be back on the Waifia by nightfall, I think. Be cautious, but be thorough. We need something , or this journey will be a long, tiring one."