She snuck another glance at Makeo. He was still, his face wary but placid, his muscular arms relaxed at his side. It’d be up to her to smooth this over before it came to blows.
“Evening.” She nodded tensely.
One lifted his chin at her. A slow, measured movement. “S’late.”
“Going to be a rough night?” Aza gestured to the cloud-choked sky, and it responded with a grumble of thunder.
The sailor shrugged. “Never can tell on the water.”
They didn’t make any move toward them. And their faces didn’t hold their usual fear, just a strange sort of blank stare. Odd. Definitely. But aggressive? Dangerous? No.
Without any more words to throw at them, she really only had one recourse. She grabbed Makeo’s wide hand, still wondering at the smoothness of the skin. “Well, we wish you calm seas.” She tugged Makeo to the ladder leading below, her eyes raking across the still crewmen. “Until tomorrow.”
She towed Makeo down the narrow passage to their cabin, pulling him in. His blond hair still brushed the top of the doorway as he followed her. Aza shut and latched the door behind him, her heart beating faster than it should have been. But if that was because of Makeo or the sailors… she couldn’t say. Witt’s soft snores buzzed through the near blackness.
“What was that?” Aza whispered.
“I’m not sure.” Makeo shook his head, his full lips flattening in a frown. “Perhaps nothing?”
“It was not normal.”
“Well, we were on the deck in the middle of the night. That’s not exactly normal either.”
Shad’s soft whisper emanated from his hammock. “They saw you transform?”
Makeo was close enough in the cramped quarters she could feel his warm breath as he nodded. “They did.”
“Hm.” Shad’s one eye blinked in the darkness. “Sailors can be extremely superstitious about yanaa aboard one of their vessels. It’s one of the reasons I’d imagine the captain was so reluctant to take you and Aza aboard.”
“Ah.” Makeo’s weight shifted, the planks creaking beneath him. “Perhaps I should’ve just stayed down here then.”
“What nonsense,” Aza scoffed.
Hearing the remorse in Makeo’s voice made Aza want to shake each and every one of those ridiculous backward-minded sailors. Makeo got such little time to be free of his curse, from one midnight to the next, and they’d summarily ruined it. But still… “There was something off though, Shad. They didn’t seem frightened or angry, they were just… staring.”
“Doesn’t everyone stare at a Maldibor the first time they see them shift?”
Aza’s cheeks warmed in the dark. Had Makeo caught her staring? She crossed her arms. It didn’t matter. But what did they do now? Taking another breath, Aza could feel the shadows still roiling in her belly. She opened her mouth and then closed it again.
There was another place she could take her questions. Her skin itched for the thick sheen of the Shadow Plane to swallow her up. She could almost hear the Plane calling for her across the waves. What would it say now?
Makeo shifted in the dark, bending his body into a sagging hammock. “Whatever the reason, I don’t have a good feeling.” He reached out as if to squeeze her hand, but then paused. Her fingers twitched, wanting to close that small space, but then he withdrew into the dark. “We should try to keep our eyes and ears sharp. Stay armed and stay together.”
Aza dipped into her own curved hammock, resolve crystallizing in her. “Yes, I’ll let you know what I see.”
Chapter Ten
Hunted
Aza awoke gasping for air in the pitch black, heart racing as she twisted in the drooping hammock. When had she even fallen asleep? After a beat, she remembered where she was. Still on the ship. Safe in their cabin. But her tense muscles refused to unwind.
The blank stares of the crew skewered her thoughts. If they were really safe here, why did her skin prickle with warning? Why did she feel so trapped?
She lay back into the rough fabric of the hammock once more, listening for the even breathing of her companions. All still asleep, and their small porthole showed no signs of dawn. The shadows curled in her center. She had to go back to the Plane. Her skin crawled, yearning for the call of the raspy wind. Perhaps the shadow dwellers would know something she didn’t.
She took a breath. It would drain her, of course. But surely even Witt could handle a gaggle of peevish, half-trained sailors. It was worth the risk. And by the time they went ashore at Tazgar, she would be recovered.
Not wanting to risk second-guessing herself, Aza’s body tensed as she drew in the shadows. She wrapped them around her like a cloak and plunged into the heart of the darkness. Aza opened her eyes to the gray sky of the Plane, her muscles burning as the shadows drank in her yanaa. Sitting up, she found herself face to face with a shadow dweller. A hundred onyx eyes peered at her with mandibles quivering inches from her jaw. But it wasn’t alone. A half-dozen more of the dog-sized ant creatures surrounded Aza, crowding in on her.
“Come closer, Aza,” the wind whispered.
Had they been waiting for her? Her fingers rested on the pommels of her daggers, not that she’d ever needed them here. She wasn’t even sure if she could kill these things with steel. “There is a new breed of evil in our land.” Aza swallowed. “What do you know of it?”
The mandibles all clicked in unison as if they shared one mind. “They crave you.” Another click. “And they are here. All around you.”
“That’s not possible.” Aza shook her head through gritted teeth. “I’ve seen everyone on the ship. There are no Rastgol aboard.”
“Their heart beats, but they do not die. Their master controls them.” The onyx eyes blinked, all six pairs at once. “And they are coming.” With that, the creatures scuttled away on spindly legs, one after the other, moving in unison like a many-headed centipede.
The wind swirled around Aza, toying with her hair. “Come to me, Aza.”
Sweat prickling her scalp, Aza fisted her hands in tight, frustrated balls. “Come where? Why are you calling me?”
A chuckle rattled in her ears, and Aza released the shadows, letting herself crash back into the tangible world.
The boat rocked beneath her and a lighted lantern swung from a figure looming over her bed. Aza’s hand flew to her knife before she recognized Makeo’s tense human face staring at her, with a loose shirt hanging from his broad shoulders, and his huge sword strapped across his back.
“You’re back.” He sagged with a relieved sigh, running a hand over his square jaw. “I was sure I would’ve heard you leave, but there was no sign of you.”
Shad glared at her as he pressed his small triangular ear to the door. “When you visit the Shadow Plane, please be sure to inform us peasants so we don’t assume you went overboard.”
Even Witt looked worried where he perched on the far hammock behind Makeo. “Good timing though; it sounds like something’s not right on deck.”
“We need to get out of here as soon as possible,” Makeo said, the muscle in his jaw flexing.
“Odriel’s teeth.” Aza blinked as if waking up from a dream, beads of sweat sliding down her temple. “And go where?”
A thumping from above drew their eyes upward.
“Two options,” Shad whispered. “Take control of the ship or get in a whaleboat and try for shore.”
“Is it really all that bad?” Witt scratched at his mousy curls. “We don’t know how to sail a ship. Maybe it’s just because of the storm.”
Someone screamed.
Aza nodded and rose to her feet. The boat rocked harshly, knocking her into Makeo. He righted her with a steady hand, and she met his eyes. “I’ve had worse options. Let’s get out of here before we get trapped.” They grabbed their packs and edged into the hall.
Other passengers watched them from cracked doors, eyes wide with fear as they took in their weapons and bags. Makeo paused for a moment, staring at them, before Aza pushed him alon
g from behind.
“They’ll be fine,” she said.
He frowned but let her shepherd him down the pitching hall.
Shouts and the distinct clang of sword on sword rang above them. Shad stopped before the ladder to the top deck and looked back at Aza.
She moved past Makeo and Witt to go first. “If it’s a mutiny, we’ll suppress it. If it’s the Rastgol Lost, we break for a whaleboat.”
“What about the other passengers?” Makeo asked, a roll of thunder underscoring his words.
Aza shifted, her muscles shaky and aching. “There are other whaleboats. They’ll find their own way.”
Not looking at him, she scaled the rungs and pushed open the hatch. And into chaos. The crew of forty had turned on one another. Ocean waves slopped over the sides, sloshing through the blood and bodies littering the deck.
The helm swung listlessly as the captain fought alongside his men. “Don’t let them get to the passengers!”
But whatever mutiny had gone on here, he was vastly outnumbered. He and three shaking sailors faced down the other thirty, led by the blank-eyed first mate, his shirt darkened with blood. Too much blood. The shadow dwellers had been right. These weren’t the Rastgol, but the hunting Lost had found them all the same.
Abandon ship it was.
Before she could say anything, Makeo pushed past her. “What’s going on here?”
All eyes turned on them. If Makeo knew he had made a mistake, he didn’t show it. He drew his long broadsword from his back, and they rushed him.
Aza swore and pulled her daggers from their sheaths. “Witt, get to the helm. Try to get us closer to shore. These things are here for me.”
With that, the first Hunters were on her. She parried and stepped in, running her blade through the chest of the first. It didn’t even flinch. Shad raced away with Witt, slipping and sliding on the deck as he made his way to the freely spinning helm. Aza gritted her teeth and blocked the next blow while Makeo battled three on her right, obviously aiming to wound, not to kill.
But they couldn’t afford that luxury. Alive or not, if these things were going to act like the Lost, she would have to treat them like Lost. Throwing her weight into the swing, she hacked through one’s neck, and it crumpled to the deck. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked its whip right on the bolt’s snaking tail. Two rushed her at once, and Aza rolled away, her body creaking in protest.
“You have to behead them,” she shouted to Makeo. “Otherwise, they won’t stop.”
Someone screamed, and Aza became distantly aware that the captain and his men had fallen. Thunder crashed again, and the boat pitched, throwing Aza to the deck. Deafening thunder boomed above. Even if they could kill these things, they wouldn’t be able to manage this ship in the storm.
Aza kicked the legs out from another and brought her dagger down across its neck. A pair lunged for her but found Makeo’s swinging broadsword instead. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?”
She shook her head to try to ease the exhaustion that threatened to drown her. “I’m fine.”
With their backs to the captain’s cabin, she cut through another with Makeo at her side. Her gaze scraped across the deck. Under the dark sky, the mob of at least twenty sailors churned furiously across the ship. Though Makeo hacked at them with huge whirling strokes, they ignored him. Thirsting only for her yanaa, they surged toward her. Sweat slicked her face as her daggers worked. Block, thrust, parry, dodge, forward, back. She could do this.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, than the smell of smoke tickled her nose.
“Fire in the cabins!” someone cried.
Feet pounded across wooden planks as the passengers bobbed to the deck, coughing and spluttering, adding to the chaos. In Aza’s distraction, she missed a step, and a blade cut across her forearm. She leapt back with a hiss of pain, ducking another slash before burying her dagger in the creature’s eye.
“I need to find the children.” Makeo swung his blade close by. “Witt!”
“Just go.” Aza’s chest heaved. “I’ll be fine.”
Witt slid across the slick deck, and Aza rolled in front of him to block the sword coming down on his head. She dispatched the possessed sailor.
“What about the helm?” she yelled.
Drawing his sword, Witt hacked at the legs of another advancing attacker. “I did the best I could, but it’s no use.”
“One of the whaleboats is already gone!” someone shouted.
Aza’s limbs grew heavier with every swing, the weight of her body pressing down on her. Witt scrambled to his feet, face blotchy and blood streaming from a cut across his forehead. Twenty on two was a lot to ask of anyone. Witt wouldn’t last long here.
“Can you see the shore, Witt?” The whipping wind nearly stole Aza’s words away.
He locked blades with a sailor and pushed him back. “Yes,” he puffed. “We’re still half a league out.”
Lightning flashed, and Aza got a glimpse of Makeo running across the smoke-filled deck with two of the girls in his arms, while Lacenda and the third followed behind dragging a bag. Relief flooded through Aza even as a sailor backed her against the wall of the captain’s cabin. He sank his blade into the wood, and she cut him down.
The fire crackled audibly now, and Aza could almost imagine it licking at their boots. She pushed Witt toward the landward side. “Where’s Shad? We need to get off this ship.” A splash announced the departure of another whaleboat. Aza hoped Makeo had the sense to go with them. She looked toward the helm where Shad ran toward them, his claws scratching against the deck. “Shad, let’s—”
The crunch of wood rent the air, and the boat jarred to an immediate stop, the deck tilting up. Together, Aza and Witt slid down the slick wood of the floundering ship. They scrabbled at the railing to keep themselves from falling overboard, but the waves crashed into them, threatening to tear them away.
“Aza!”
Aza looked up to see Makeo aboard one of the empty whaleboats bobbing in the waves a safe distance away. Not close enough to jump, but maybe close enough to swim. She could make it.
Another wave washed over them, and Witt spluttered. Odriel’s teeth. He couldn’t even splash across a stream. And what had happened to Shad? Her eyes scanned the waves by the stern. A black ball of fur gripped the railing with frantic claws, and Shad’s dark head dipped below the waves as he struggled to hold fast to the ship.
She swallowed. The boat shifted, and smoke curled above them, precious seconds ticking away. She had to make a choice. Shad or Witt? Her mind ran through a set of cold calculations. Witt was good enough with a sword, but she needed Shad to get to Tazgar.
She pointed at a crate floating just out of reach. “Jump for the crate and kick toward Makeo.”
Witt shook his head. “I won’t make it.”
“You have to.” She swallowed, her chest tightening at his wide eyes. “I’ll get Shad, and we’ll meet you at the whaleboat.” With that, she turned and climbed toward the sodden cat.
“Aza!” Witt called from behind her, his voice cracking with fear.
But she didn’t hesitate. Her fingers squeezed the railing to keep herself upright, resisting the ocean’s cold tug. The first splatter of raindrops drove into her shoulders, a cursory warning before the skies opened up and dumped their overdue burden. Water assaulting her from above and below, Aza’s muscles went numb as she moved. Fingers, toes, and muscles all lost feeling, but still she crept along.
Finally, she reached where Shad clutched the edge of the sinking ship, scrabbling furiously. The ship shifted again in the waves, sinking in earnest now.
She bent down. “Can you swim?”
He retched in response. Aza looked back to where Witt clung, only to find that he had disappeared, and the furious sea had smashed the floating crate against the hull. Bleeding skies.
“We’ve got to get away from the ship before it pulls us down with it.” Aza kicked at
the cracked railing until a plank splintered off in her fingers, and then grabbed Shad by the scruff. “Just try to hold on.”
Aza jumped into the water, holding the plank to her chest with one arm and the cat with the other. Kicking desperately, saltwater rushed into her eyes and mouth. They were only two oar lengths away, a distance she could swim half asleep. But the Shadow Plane had nearly drained her dry, and with the gasping Shad weighing her down, they crawled through the surf. Another wave ducked them under, and Aza fought to surface.
“Aza, here!” Makeo yelled.
Aza reached out blindly, and found a slick, grasping hand. Makeo was in the water with them, a rope securing him to the boat. Aza pushed Shad toward him, the water choking any words she had.
She started to follow when the ship at last slid off the rocks that held it. Groaning as it flopped over in the water, the masts snapped off, and the suck of the current ripped Aza away from Makeo. Something hard slammed into the back of her head, and then the dark, stormy world melted away.
✽✽✽
She was in Carceroc, the tremendous trees rising up around her, their trunks as wide as cottages, their branches scraping the clouds. And there was Makeo, round-cheeked and young, chasing after her into the darkness. With her parents away with the Time Heir, Yolie, at the western border, Aza brimmed with daring, drunk on freedom. Feet lighter than air, she raced through the trees away from where Zephyr entertained the much smaller Time Heir, Yolie’s precocious five-year-old, Ioni.
“Dolobra,” she called with a laugh. “Keo wants to meet youuuu.” She ducked around a tree and disappeared, smothering another giggle.
She waited for him to panic at her absence, to worry that she’d left him, but instead he stopped right in front of her. “You can’t hide from me,” he said in his boyish voice, smiling wide. “I can smell you from a mile away.” He leaned closer, his shining eyes only a finger’s breadth from hers.
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