“No. It’d be foolish of you to return to the sea now. Not only have you just recovered from a near-death experience,” she said, placing unnecessary emphasis on the words, “but they’ve already beaten you and one of our best vessels.”
Her words sliced into what remained of his confidence. He’d lost her faith, after all. “I did my best, Rapunzel, I—”
“I know you did, brother. I know. It isn’t your leadership or magic that failed you. From what I understand, these mages enslaved by their kingdom are whipped and shackled, blackmailed into service. They are pushed beyond the limits of safety until their bodies fail them. What happened to that unfortunate man is typical of Ridaeron’s barbarism toward sorcerers. Many die at sea, disposable and unvalued.”
“Where did you learn this?”
“Grand Enchanter Joaidane. He’s spent many years studying the Ridaeron Dynasty and learning all he can about them.”
“Will he be helping us?”
“He will, in fact. After what happened when…Gothel took control of Eisland,” Rapunzel said with difficulty, “and he came to help us, he returned to Samahara and commissioned several warships. Ridaeron has always been their enemy.”
“I recall from our history lessons. Isn’t Samahara where they’ve abducted most of their mageslaves?”
“It is. It pains Joaidane greatly to see his own people in bondage this way. He wants to help now that he has control of the kingdom.”
“So you’re asking me to leave our people in the hands of these…these murdering slavers for weeks longer?”
“Brother, I’m asking you to wait, so that when we do launch this attack, we’re not merely conducting a rescue mission—we’re ensuring there will never be another raid from Ridaeron again.” She rose from her seat and offered him a hand. “Come with me. There’s something I must show you.”
* * *
No fewer than two dozen men worked on what had to be the largest warship in all the Viridian Sea. It put even the Queen Anne’s Revenge to shame with its beauty and power. The design called for at least a hundred cannons spread throughout three gun-decks.
Joren counted. No. Far more than that. This behemoth beauty would need one hundred and forty-four cannons.
She had all the best traits of the civilized kingdoms, their greatest strengths, and no apparent drawbacks—the size of a Ridaeron dreadnought, the gun spread of a Mordenian destroyer, and a sleek forward bow that belonged on a much smaller, faster ship. Someone had etched protective runes in gold on the dark silver ghostwood hull, a rare tree grown only in the Ridaeron Dynasty and prided for its ability to absorb magic. It must have all been imported during his father’s reign.
In all his years, he never thought a ship could arouse him as much as a woman, but life was full of new experiences for Joren lately.
“Welcome to your new command vessel, Joren.”
“My gods,” he breathed, staring up at the majesty before them.
“What do you think?”
“I’m harder than gnomish pipe right now.”
“Ew!” She punched his shoulder lightly. “I did not need to know that.”
“You asked my thoughts. She’s beautiful. Whenever did you start building this beast?”
Grinning, his sister took him by the hand and led him up a ramp aboard the ship. “Muir found the blueprints in the royal archives almost two years ago. He spends lots of time in there, trying to learn more about our country. I actually think he knows more about Eisland than you or I.”
He chuckled and ran his hand over the railing to his left. The wood gleamed, sanded as smooth as silk. “Difficult to believe something this majestic was hidden away in our kingdom.”
“Well, technically it was a joint effort. The original design wasn’t plausible, more wishful thinking than anything. I mentioned it to James, and he told us of a ship-designing prodigy among his crew, so we sent a copy to Cairn Ocland. Even Tinker Bell offered her expertise.”
“How did I not know about this?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise. It’s been in the plans since long before the twins were born.” She aimed an impish smile at him. “But seriously, how do you like it? Be honest.”
“I was being honest. There’s no ‘like’ involved, Rapunzel. I love it. This is… It’s a fantasy come to life. She’s everything I could have ever wanted in a ship and dreamed about.”
“Quite a bit of magic was required to cobble this many elements together. If she’s successful under your command, we’ll have many more built like her.”
“How many crew can she hold?”
“Early estimates are eight hundred. Perhaps nine if we’re frugal with stores in the hold.”
Joren swore.
“That was my reaction.” Rapunzel nibbled her lower lip, gazing up at him. “She’s a birthday gift for you, Joren. At least, I’d intended her to be your gift, and to retire the Madeleine. I know that you blame yourself for what happened, but the truth is that she was old and long past her sailing prime. This is the vessel you deserve.” She took his hand, squeezing it as she once did when they were children.
“I had a gift for you, too. It’ll be at the bottom of the sea now,” he murmured.
“I need no gift or riches. It’s enough for me that you’re alive. Having my brother home to me safe and sound is the greatest gift of all, Joren, incomparable to any other.”
Rapunzel hugged him tight, the way he suspected she’d wanted to hug him all along since he returned from the catastrophic voyage. That she wasn’t disappointed in him for losing one of their prized ships meant everything. “I love you, brother. Never forget that my faith in you is unshakable.”
As relief swam through him, he relaxed against her. “Thank you. Your words mean everything to me.”
“They should, as I’m your twin and no one’s opinion is more important.” She leaned back and beamed up at him. “At least, no one’s will be until you take a wife.”
“We both know the likelihood of that happening is lower than me sailing a boat to one of the moons.”
Rapunzel rolled her eyes. “Always such a pessimist. Belle shared something with me once. Do you know what she said?”
“What?”
“‘The best things in the world are made of faith, trust, and faerie dust.’ Don’t make me write to her and ask for a liberal dose of the latter to make this thing fly you to the moon.”
Joren put on a short-lived scowl. “Just because you’ve found your ideal match doesn’t mean the rest of us should believe in preposterous romantic outcomes. Real life isn’t a fairy tale, Rapunzel. Not everyone gets a happily ever after.”
“You’ve been like this since Anastasia turned you down, you know.”
“Victoria,” he corrected her. “Losing to a bloody bear-man is where I draw the line.”
“Why should any woman want you if you’re going to be this negative?” She tugged him by a hand to the hatch. “Come on. Let’s tour the lower decks and work our way back up to the top. You’re going to scream when you see the admiral’s quarters. It’s a mansion.”
“I don’t need a mansion—”
“You’re going to love it.”
He grunted and followed her.
The neat and orderly passages had a spacious design uncommon for an Eislandic ship, where sailors and supplies were packed in like sardines. They started in the hold, working their way up from the belly of the ship. The spacious brig had reinforced cells, and the bars had been inscribed with mystical glyphs.
Joren gaped. “These came from the Collegium of Arthras. I recognize the master’s work.” He curled his fingers around a steel bar and felt the magic traveling up and down the metal, tingling under his grip. “This is spectacular. It’s…I sense magic-repressing charms and some powerful spellcrafting here.”
“When I told him it was for you, his favorite pupil, he leapt at the opportunity. Space is limited within this particular cell, but you’ll be able to contain a magician with ease. It s
hould even interfere with a shapeshifter’s ability to transform and theirs is a divine gift.”
“How do you—”
“Muir found it incredibly difficult to maintain form.”
He turned to her. “Rapunzel, I can’t believe you did this.”
“There is no expense too great for my brother.” She beamed at him and tugged his hand. “Come on. I have so much more to show you. I’ve been along for this project since the very start, so I know every inch of the ship.”
She took him for a brief tour of the offices in the orlop deck, then to the lowest gun deck. They climbed a ladderway to the middle deck, visited the spacious galley, traversed a passage toward the stern, and peeked into the officers’ cabins and wardroom.
“That’s a large room.”
“Plenty of space for your officers to relax and enjoy a good meal when they’re away from duty. Furnishings are still under commission, to be carried aboard once this lovely lady is completed.”
They visited the admiral’s day cabin at the stern of the upper gun deck, a place for Joren to perform his duties as well as entertain people of importance. The cabin spanned a quarter of the deck but remained functional for war, with concealed gun ports on both the starboard and portside bulkheads.
“I picture the dining room here for you and your favorite officers, the men and women you cherish most,” Rapunzel said, sweeping her left arm over the generous space. Magic glittered and formed the outline of a long table, numerous chairs, tapestries, and draperies.
“Perhaps a table in the style of Cairn Ocland,” Joren said, sweeping his right hand toward the room, reshaping the shimmering illusion into a round table.
Rapunzel clapped her hands, laughing. “Taken by their style, are you?”
“It’s welcoming and inclusive. I like the idea of it. If they’re friends enough that I want to dine with them, why not add a personal touch?”
Her smile widened. “I’ll send a note to the craftsman. Perhaps one of those new designs that allows you to twirl the table edge to expand and narrow it as necessary for additional space.”
“You’re brilliant, sister.”
“Naturally. Now, through here is where I think we’ll have your office. You’ve got a window right here with a fantastic view, unlike the other portholes.” Her eyebrows bounced up and down. “A romantic view.”
“Shut it.”
“I’m only saying, should you find a female fond of sea travel willing to accompany you, she’ll be in comfort. Leadership is stressful, brother. A good woman will—”
“Please, Rapunzel.”
“All right. All right.” Relenting, she slipped her arms around him. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Boogers.”
The hug instantly ended, and she punched him in the chest. “Don’t use that name! Certainly not around Muir.”
“What?” He grinned, glad to have the attention off his love life. His sister hated the nickname he’d dubbed her when they were children and she’d taken so ill, their doting father assigned a team of nursemaids to her care, one of them for the sole purpose of cleaning the young princess’s nose, because gods forbid she do it on her own.
“That accursed name, you asshole.”
“Apologies, Boogers, but I think it only fitting your dear husband know the horror that awaits him when you fall sick.”
She chased him, but he beat her up the ladderway onto the main deck to explore the forecastle and lastly, the captain’s cabin on the quarterdeck. Differing from many of their neighboring kingdoms, it had long been a standing tradition of Eisland for an admiral to sail his own flagship while commanding the fleet, though they often had a captain on board to assume command in the event of illness or death. Joren’s captain had not been among the survivors rescued by James. He prayed Camden awaited rescue, and that more of his men had been taken captive than drowned that night.
“Will you be keeping this cabin for yourself or…?”
He knew where Rapunzel was going before she finished. If not in use by a captain, an admiral usually kept his family aboard with him, his wife often a source of motherly comfort and friendship to all who sailed aboard her husband’s ship.
“It’ll be for Cam. Once I rescue him. Is it the sails we’re waiting on?”
“Yes. Enchanted canvas to hold up against the strongest winds and even resist fire. You won’t have to expend nearly as much magic because they’ll have runes meant to capture the wind. I commissioned the thread from the Collegium of Arthras, and our finest sailmakers are hard at work to get everything exactly right.”
Sails couldn’t be rushed. Now he understood, though it killed him to leave his crew to suffer. “How many ships can we bring with us?”
“You’ll have a dozen from our fleet to take up a patrol, half as many from Creag Morden, three swift sloops from Joiadane, plus the Jolly Roger and the Twilight Witch, according to James. In addition to them, the Oclanders have two ships built.”
“Ships full of shifters. That’s an advantage right there,” he countered.
“True. The Ridaerons have no such ability, and I doubt they’re even aware of the Oclanders. Several of the griffins have already volunteered to sail under your flag. They began training days ago and are eager.”
“I’ll be glad for their help.”
“Then it’s settled. I assume your new friend will be joining you?”
The sly tone in her voice was all too familiar. He turned to face her, subject to her scrutiny. “I’ve promised to see Coral Shell home and since the islands are on the way, it only seems proper. This cold climate doesn’t suit her.”
“So I’ve noticed. She wears furs even indoors, so I’ve done my best to make her room comfortable. There’s a fire going in there at all times now, and we’ve given her blankets with charmed thread enchanted to hold heat.”
“Thank you.”
“Why did she come, do you think?”
“I’m not sure, but since it seems I’ll be waiting another few weeks, I’ll have plenty of time to find out.”
Chapter 7
Eisland, while a beautiful country, differed greatly from Caecilia’s expectations. Then again, it had been centuries since she’d ventured anywhere close to the northern kingdom, and James wasn’t a typical specimen of their native people.
Everywhere she wandered in the palace, gracious staff and courteous guards greeted her. No one hesitated to offer her assistance navigating the labyrinthine halls, whether it was to show her to a particular destination or offer her a meal. Eislanders apparently enjoyed their food at any hour of the day, because she never lacked for a meal or snack.
What she did lack was company once Joren was back on his feet and attending to his duties. No longer needed at his bedside, she stuck to her room or explored the castle grounds. In some ways, it reminded her of her father’s home—grand and beautiful.
Blessed pearls, she missed the palace. And her seven sisters. Days of observing the playful interactions between Rapunzel and Joren reminded her of yet another thing she’d lost.
Thinking of them brought on a wave of melancholy. No one had tried to visit her since her banishment, not that she could truly blame them shunning her to avoid their father’s wrath, but still, it hurt just the same.
Hoping to chase away the morose thoughts on her mind, she set the book aside and crossed to the door. A miniature adventure was in order, even if she didn’t dare journey outdoors onto the palace grounds in their inhospitable northern weather. She hurried to the door and pulled it open, then soundlessly shrieked at the sight of Joren on the other side with his fist poised to knock.
“Uh. Good afternoon, Coral. Apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you. Ah.” He glanced up and down the hall, then at her. “Are you headed somewhere?”
She shook her head and opened the door wider, gesturing him inside.
“Actually, I rather hoped you’d like to join me for a little shopping. Since it seems we’ll be here a time, you’ll need warm
er clothes. Clothes made to fit you.”
She looked down at her borrowed dress. The hem was too short, showing her ankles, and the bodice was a little too loose, meant for someone with fuller breasts.
“I’m guessing by the smile you like the idea,” Joren said, laughing. “Well, get your cloak and we’ll head out.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. Once in her heavy cloak, Joren escorted her outside to their waiting transportation. She hurried ahead, not to rush into her seat, but to approach the beautiful dappled gray horse hitched to the carriage. He shook his dark mane and twitched his ears, but he didn’t shy away. She stroked his velvet nose, delighted by the soft warmth. They had no horses in Wai Alei.
“This is Borealis,” Joren said as he moved up beside her. “He’s one of the calmest horses you’ll ever meet, and a glutton for sugar.”
She glanced at her companion and quirked a brow. He answered with a grin, then took her hand and set two crystalline cubes in her palm. Borealis perked his ears and nickered. With Joren’s guidance, she held out her hand and let the horse have his treat.
“Now you’ll be fast friends.” Joren patted the horse’s neck then stepped back and offered Caecilia his hand, which she gratefully accepted. He assisted her into the carriage, settled a blanket over her lap, and gave the driver the go-ahead.
“I know you’ve explored the castle but has anyone taken you into the city?” When she shook her head, he continued. “I’m sorry for that. I appreciate all the kindness you’ve shown me and sincerely apologize for, well, the loneliness you must have experienced these past few days.”
She ducked her gaze, touched by his heartfelt concern, and wished more than anything she could tell him she understood. Her fingers brushed against her pendant. One little flick and she could have her voice back, but with it would come her grotesque appearance. He’d never understand, and he’d hate her on sight.
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