by C. E. Murphy
Cracks shattered in the ice, water forcing its way up through the gaps Isidri's water-warming magic offered. The rest, Asindo and the guild could do: dragging the ice down into the water over and over until it shrank away to nothing. Whirlpools leaped up and slammed into the Northern ships, breaking holes in the holds and snatching sailors away. Storm surges rocked the harbor, shaking the Northern hold until it collapsed.
Within minutes, Ilyara's harbor was its own again.
As the water witchery faded, cheers began to rise from the city's people. Desimi muttered "Hypocrites," but Kisia elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "Be quiet," she whispered. "We're a lot better off with them changing their minds and thinking we're heroes than staying constant and thinking we're traitors."
Desimi muttered again, but didn't argue. He looked too tired to argue, really: his eyes were sunken and the hollows looked bruised, and he was leaning heavily on Kisia without even trying to hide it. Rasim said, "Thank you," to him, and after a moment of looking like he was searching for something to say, Desimi nodded.
Rasim nodded too, then caught his breath as he glanced at the sea. Guildmaster Isidri had fallen to her knees, no longer a strong white-haired beacon. Rasim jolted forward a step, then shot a look at Taishm.
The king inclined his head. "Go. See to her. And expect a summons, children of the river, because this is not yet over."
Rasim moved to Desimi's other side, and all three of them ran for the docks.
#
The streets were madness, people thronging toward the docks. Everyone wanted to have been there for the battle, and would later all claim they had been. Rasim, Kisia and Desimi, who knew they hadn't been, only wanted to get to their friends. It took forever to reach the guild halls. By the time they did, the light had failed entirely, darkness come on full, though by the shadows on the water, Rasim knew that the Wafiya and other fleet ships had docked.
Asindo met them just inside the guildhall gates. "Usia is with her," he said without preamble. "She needs rest and water, but he thinks she'll be all right." Concern flickered in his face, though. Rasim thought there was something he wasn't telling them, but the captain frowned at all three of them, his concern deepening.
"Desimi, you look as bad as Isidri, and you're nearly as bad as the both of them, Rasim." He examined Kisia's collar—she had never been released from the iron band around her throat, though the chains had been removed—and began to ask. Then he lifted his hand and shook his head. "Never mind. Go to the shipwrights and get that thing taken off, apprentice. Journeymen, with me. Usia needs to see to you, too."
"But the king said he'd summon us," Rasim blurted.
Asindo stared at him. "The king." A silence followed the two words before he said, very steadily, "Then the king can wait for morning. You two need healing, food, and rest, in that order." He eyed Kisia, added, "And you need food, healing, and probably rest too, once that thing is off you. Come to see Usia when you're free of it."
Kisia murmured, "Yes, Captain," and scampered off with more energy than Rasim felt or Desimi exhibited.
Desimi snorted, noticing the same thing. "She's only been in chains all day, not half-baked."
"And not digging into the city's bedrock for water weapons," Rasim retorted.
Asindo looked between them both, then wordlessly put his hands on their shoulders and steered them toward the healing hall. There, Usia gave them water fortified with wine and looked between them a long moment, obviously trying to decide which of them required his help more. "You both feel like the Guildmaster," he said accusingly. "Like the water's been drained out of you. More than the water. The very magic in your bones."
"We did get roasted for most of the afternoon," Rasim said weakly. "And Desimi used more magic than anybody I'd ever seen."
"What's your excuse?"
Rasim shook his head. The watered wine tasted wonderful, and he drank most of it in gulps, but watered or not, it went to his head, too. Sleepiness had him in its grip already, and he could hardly think of an answer for Usia. He'd used very little magic today, and had no reason for it to be drained out of him. "Maybe being around so much being used tired me out..."
He heard Desimi disagree, but he toppled into sleep before the words made sense.
#
"Wake up. Wake up, Rasim. We let you sleep as long as we could, but the king is calling for us. Rasim, wake up."
"I'll wake him up," Desimi growled.
Rasim sat bolt upright, wary even half-asleep, and Kisia giggled as Desimi said, "Knew that would work."
"Come on," Kisia said. "The king wants us. You have to get dressed."
Rasim swung his feet over the edge of the bed, still not really awake. His head hurt, and as if knowing it, Desimi pressed a cup of water into Rasim's hand. He drank it, handed it back for more, and drained that too before he started to feel well enough to say, "Thanks."
"Put these on." Kisia shoved soft clothes at him. They were of much finer weave than anything Rasim owned, but he was too bleary to argue, and got dressed. The linen lay smooth and richly blue over his chest. He patted it in confusion and looked up.
Kisia and Desimi were dressed similarly. Desimi's shirt had the loop of a journeyman at one shoulder, while Kisia's had the apprentice's mark. Rasim put a hand to his own shoulder, finding the journeyman's braid there, too. "Guildmaster Asindo said we weren't going to embarrass the guild by showing up at the palace in our normal clothes," Kisia explained.
"Oh." Rasim got up, then stumbled. "Wait. Guildmaster Asindo?"
Desimi and Kisia exchanged glances. "There was a vote last night," Kisia said carefully. "Asindo was made Guildmaster until Isidri is..."
"She'll be fine," Desimi said ferociously. "Come on. We don't have a lot of time."
"What's wrong with her? What time is it?" Rasim dragged his feet until Desimi got behind him and gave him a shove.
"She's exhausted, that's what, and she's old and she used too much magic. And it's nearly noon and we're supposed to be there at noon, so move."
"We can't get to the palace by noo—" Rasim swallowed his own protest as Desimi got him out of the guild hall.
A carriage waited for them, with four prancing horses at its front and an infinitely patient-looking coachman holding the door. Desimi all but lifted Rasim into the carriage, then climbed in after and turned to offer Kisia a hand up. All three of them sprawled across padded leather seats, Desimi and Kisia gleeful with excitement and Rasim still waking up, but with growing astonishment.
They flew through the streets more quickly than he'd ever thought possible, arriving at the palace within minutes, when it had taken hours to get home the evening before. And unlike the day before, guards came to escort them politely through the palace halls, rather than chasing them as if they were criminals. They were let into the throne room, where dozens of people already stood.
Some were familiar: Yalonta, the commander of the guard; Lorens, the Northern prince, and several Seamasters guild members, including Asindo. Far more were strangers, and some of them gave Rasim and his friends curious glances as they stepped inside.
The room had been partially repaired from Desimi's dramatic witchery the day before. The floor, though still cracked and pitted, was smooth again, and there was no sign of water damage. Taishm once more sat in his throne at the far end of the room, but this time the person kneeling halfway down the hall was Captain Jorgensson, rather than Kisia.
As they came in, Jorgensson cast a guarded look at Prince Lorens, then slumped and responded to something Taishm had obviously just asked: "We followed Roscord's orders, your majesty. He paid us well, and there was a promise of..." He glanced at Lorens again, then sighed. "Of noble titles and land. Things we would never see in the north. It seemed worth the risk."
"I'm sure," Taishm murmured. "What's a little regicide, after all?"
Jorgensson lifted his gaze, mouth a thin tight line, and gave a sharp, telling shrug. "You're not my king, your majesty."
; Taishm, still softly, said, "Nor are you my subject. I think I would be within my rights to judge you, but I'll leave that to Jaana. I'm sure condemnation from your own queen will be much more damaging."
He flicked his hand and guards took Derek away. Only then did Taishm seem to notice Rasim and the others, gesturing them forward. "Kisia al Ilialio. Desimi al Ilialio. Come here."
The two of them exchanged nervous glances and Kisia looked apologetically at Rasim before doing as the king commanded. Rasim hung back, his heart beating fast enough to make him dizzy, as Taishm looked Desimi and Kisia over.
"You have an astonishing loyalty to a guild you've only just joined," he said to Kisia. "You could have gotten yourself killed yesterday, with those antics of yours."
"I had to do something, sire. You have my parents."
"Had," Taishm said. "Yalonta overstepped her bounds. They have been returned home and recompense made. I apologize for the indignities they suffered."
"Don't apologize," Kisia said tartly. "Make their bakery your favorite. That'll do the trick."
Taishm's eyebrows rose. "You're not afraid of your king?"
"Your majesty," Kisia said with great restraint, "I almost got eaten by a sea serpent. Not much scares me anymore."
The king's mouth curled up at one corner. "Fair enough. I'll ask for a basket of breads from your bake—"
"My parents' bakery," Kisia stressed. "I'm Seamasters' Guild now."
"Brave and brash," Taishm muttered. "Very well. From your parents' bakery, and I'll let it be known I favor them. Now. Desimi. I believe, young man, that you acted to save my life yesterday."
Desimi shrugged slightly. "Seemed likely that if Roscord was going to start killing people, you'd be high on the list. Sir."
Taishm cast a bemused glance at Asindo. "They're a bold lot, your apprentices."
Asindo, straight-faced, said, "Journeymen, sire," and Taishm laughed aloud.
"At least they come by it honestly. Journeyman Desimi al Ilialio, come here." Taishm stood and pointed to a spot directly in front of him. Desimi swallowed hard and walked forward, then knelt, which surprised Rasim but seemed to please the king, who gestured to one of the retainers near the throne. The uniformed man stepped forward and offered Taishm a heavy silver necklace from which a gleaming blue pearl dangled.
Taishm settled the necklace over Desimi's head, then drew him upward and lifted the jewel in his fingertips, turning it over. "This is the mark of the king's guard," Taishm said quietly. "Normally it would be stamped in silver on the hilt of your sword, but I thought for a seamaster it was more appropriately set into pearl. Anywhere in this city, anywhere in my kingdom, this mark will be recognized and your needs will be answered. Thank you, Desimi al Ilialio, for my life."
For the first time in years, the anger that had shaped Desimi's face disappeared completely. Color swept his ears and he gave a jerky nod, then backed away from Taishm with the pearl clasped carefully in one hand. When he reached Kisia's side, they backed up together, until they reached Rasim again. Kisia's eyes were enormous, and a flush of pride made Desimi stand even taller than he usually did. Rasim offered them a tentative smile, but then Taishm sat back in his throne, expression thunderous over steepled fingers. "You."
Rasim flinched and looked forward guiltily to whisper, "Yes, your majesty?"
"What are we to do with you, journeyman? You seem to be at the heart of a great deal of trouble."
"I didn't mean to be," Rasim said miserably. "All I wanted to do was sail with the fleet, your majesty, I swear it."
"I have no doubt." The corner of Taishm's mouth twitched upward. "But it seems Siliaria had greater things in store for you. I understand you were poorly treated by the Sunmasters."
Rasim gritted his teeth. "They did think we were traitors, your majesty. I can understand what they did."
"But can you forgive it?" Taishm sounded enormously serious.
Rasim frowned. "Do I have to?"
"It would be best," Taishm said. "It would make studying under them easier."
"What? But—what? No! No, I meant it, your majesty! I just want to sail with the fleet. I don't want to be a Sunmaster!"
"I don't believe you can be," Taishm said. "The magic to command more than one element belongs only to the royal family. But you have a knack for being in the heart of trouble, and I may as well use that. I want you to study with them to learn diplomacy, not sun witchery."
Rasim clapped his mouth shut and looked for Asindo. The Wafiya's captain's expression was perfectly neutral, except for a sparkle in his brown eyes. He had threatened exactly that fate for Rasim, and Rasim had no doubt Asindo had put the idea in the king's ear. Jaw thrust out, he looked back at Taishm and folded his arms over his chest. "Fine, but I'm not leaving the Seamasters' guild hall. You can send your sun witch to me, if you want me to learn."
Taishm's eyebrows shot up. "I can, can I? This is the demand you make of your king?"
"This is your idea," Rasim retorted. "I'm not leaving my family. If you want me to study with the Sunmasters, they can come to me."
"I begin to see how you end up in trouble. A compromise?" Taishm suggested, in poorly-hidden amusement. "You spend the morning hours studying with the Sunmasters, and in the afternoon return to your journeyman's duties with the Seamasters?"
It sounded like a lot of work. Rasim sighed dramatically and nodded. "All right, fine. But if the Wafiya sails, I'm going with her, Sunmasters or no."
"You drive a hard bargain," Taishm said dryly. "Very well, Seamaster journeyman and Sunmaster apprentice, so it shall be. Beginning tomorrow you study with the Sunmasters."
Rasim's stomach dropped nervously. "What about today?"
"Today?" Taishm leaned forward with a sudden grin. "Let me think. In the past month you've slain a sea serpent, befriended pirates, discovered treachery in the Northlands, rescued a kidnapped girl, been imprisoned, and saved the city of Ilyara.
"Today, Rasim al Ilialio, I believe you can have the day off."
S
to be continued in
STONEMASTER
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Also by CE Murphy
The Guildmaster Saga
Seamaster * Stonemaster (forthcoming)
The Austen Chronicles
Magic & Manners * Sorcery & Society (forthcoming)
The Heartstrike Chronicles
Atlantis Fallen * Prometheus Bound (forthcoming) * Avalon Rising (forthcoming)
The Walker Papers
Urban Shaman * Winter Moon * Thunderbird Falls * Coyote Dreams * Walking Dead * Demon Hunts * Spirit Dances * Raven Calls * No Dominion * Mountain Echoes * Shaman Rises
& with Faith Hunter
Easy Pickings
A Walker Papers/Skinwalker crossover novella
The Old Races Universe
Heart of Stone * House of Cards * Hands of Flame
Baba Yaga's Daughter
Year of Miracles
Kiss of Angels (forthcoming)
The Worldwalker Duology
Truthseeker * Wayfinder
The Inheritors' Cycle
The Queen's Bastard * The Pretender's Crown
Stone's Throe
A Spirit of the Century Novel
Take A Chance
a graphic novel
Roses in Amber
A Beauty and the Beast story
Acknowledgements
Seamaster is, first and foremost, for my nephew Breic, who asked me (a distressingly long time ago now) whether I was going to write any books for little boys. This book and this series are for him, for my nephew Seirid, for my son Henry, for all of my not-actually-niblings (all those first cousins once removed), and for my friends' children who are all readers like we once were. This is for them.
It's for my mom, Rosie Murphy, too. Mom taught me the song that inspired the series, a lullaby that I sang roughly fifty thousand times to my son when he was an infant: there's a big ship sailing on the Illy-ally-
oh, the Illy-ally-oh, there's a big ship sailing on the Illy-ally-oh, hi, ho, the Illy-ally-oh.
That song has a lot of variants and spellings, but that's how I heard it, and rendered it to the Ilialio in my mind, and one night I thought: well, if there's a big ship sailing on the Ilialio, then there must be a crew. And if there's a crew, there must be a cabin boy. And if there's a cabin boy, there must be pirates…and thus the Guildmaster Saga was born.
All my thanks are due to Aleksandar Sotirovski for his wonderful cover art, and all my love goes to Henry and Ted, and to my dad, Tom.
About the Author
There are those who say CE Murphy began her writing career when she ran away from home at age five to write copy for the circus that had come to town. Her own recollection is that she wrote her first serious work for a school magazine at age six, which is almost as good. She has since gone on to write in science fiction and fantasy, romance, graphic novels, and, with Seamaster, debuts in middle grade and young adult books.
She was born and raised in Alaska, and now lives with her family in her ancestral homeland of Ireland, which is a magical place where it rains a lot but nothing one could seriously regard as winter ever actually arrives.
CE Murphy can be found online at:
mizkit.com
@ce_murphy
fb.com/cemurphywriter
and at her newsletter at tinyletter.com/ce_murphy, which is by far the best place to get up-to-date info on what's out next.