“Rodan!” Maeve cried. “Stop it! You’re going to sink the ship.”
Rodan’s eyes flicked to hers for a moment, but he gave a slight shake of his head and clenched his jaw, fingers splayed out over the churning waters.
The sky began to darken. Clouds broiled overhead, lightning flicking between them and thunder crashing down on their ears. Soon the light from the suns was eclipsed, and rain began to lash the deck. The sailor’s cries became frantic, panicked, and Maeve clutched at the railing, watching as they made their way to the center of the whirlpool at an ever-increasing pace.
The ship tipped toward the center, and anything not bolted down began to slide toward their position on the deck. Maeve flinched as a box hit the back of her calves before careening overboard, spilling coils of rope and fishing hooks as it went. The wooden hull groaned as waves lashed it, and the deck became slippery under her feet. She wrapped her arms around the railing, eyes squinted against the wind and lashing rain, trying not to lose her footing as they careened even further down.
No lifeboats sat on deck. No life jackets. Nothing that she might reach for in circumstances such as this in her world. She debated whether to keep holding onto the wooden railing for dear life, or trying to swim for it. The vortex proved mighty enough to pull an entire ship down—how could she compete with it?
She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the inevitable to come.
Everything went silent.
Maeve glanced up, and her hair made it nearly impossible with it plastered over her face. She wiped it away as the ship righted itself, and the swirling whirlpool faded into nothing but some larger-than-average waves. The sky began to clear, and the rain stopped.
She gasped, her heat pounding hard in her chest, and looked over to find Rodan slumped against the railing, barely holding himself upright. She knelt next to him, placing a hand on his back. “Are you okay? Rodan?” She gave him a slight shake.
His head did not lift, but she saw the slight curve to his cheek as he smiled. “Worried about me, Maeve?”
“Of course, I am,” she hissed. “What happened?”
An unfamiliar voice, crashing like the thunder that lit up the sky moments before, answered, “He broke the curse.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Maeve
THE SPEAKER WAS ONE OF THE MERPEOPLE.
Maeve heard of them last time she was here but had never laid eyes on one. Like the mermaids of her own world, she assumed that these legendary beings of the Five Realms were mythical, but there one stood, held aloft by a spout of ocean water, looking down on them with condemnation.
The merman, broad and enormous, possessed a tail like an orca. His skin, as black as the marks on his tail, also gleamed white with swirls moving down his chest and arms. When he opened his mouth he showed rows of sharpened teeth, and his eyes shone wet and black, nothing remotely human within them.
Rodan stood on shaking legs, facing off against the merperson, his jaw set and his eyes flashing. “You put a curse upon an entire city,” he called out in accusation. “Why?”
As he spoke, two other creatures rose on waterspouts to flank the first. One, a woman freeing herself from a seal skin, and another a burly merman like the first, only white like a beluga, with cold blue eyes and thick white hair.
“We placed a curse on the city of Nucifera,” said the first merman. “For many centuries the people here over fished the sea and spoiled the land. One we can tolerate. The other we cannot. Not without tribute.”
“Tribute?” Maeve asked, pushing her wet hair back off her forehead. “What kind of tribute?”
“Worship,” the woman hissed, wrapping her seal skin around her waist like a skirt and riding the spout down to the deck of the ship, where she jumped off and stood close to Rodan, her head cocked as she sniffed the air near his head. “Or blood. Or death.”
Maeve did not like the she was glaring at Rodan, as though she wanted to eat him. She stepped closer, inching her way between the two. The selkie stared at her, eyes unblinking and brown as mud. Maeve held her gaze, sure that if she showed weakness the creature would strike. She appeared to be a normal woman, but Maeve knew that here, in the Five Realms, looks were deceiving.
“You wish the people of Nucifera to worship your people? To give them blood and death?” Rodan reiterated, eyes never leaving the original merman. “They have already suffered much and more under your curse. That is penance enough.”
“No,” the selkie rasped, reaching out a hand to stroke down Rodan’s arm. He did not glance at her, only moved a little away, as though shooing off an irritating fly. “We want their loyalty. Their devotion. We deserve it. They interlope upon our waters, take what they want, and leave us little and nothing to play with. It has gone on long enough.”
“Long enough,” the other merpeople echoed. The orca-tailed merman spoke further. “We will lay the curse again, o King of the earth, unless there be tribute you would offer in its place.”
“What do you suggest?” Rodan asked.
He motioned at the selkie. “Take her, or one of her sisters, to wife. Bear children of the earth and water to rule over both. We will join as a unified people. Reject this bargain, and we will press our claim of blood and death from the citizens of Nucifera.”
Maeve sucked in a breath, looking at the selkie once more. The creature gave her a sly smile, her teeth sharp like the merman’s, and darted a hand around to touch Rodan once more. Without thinking, Maeve slapped the hand away and took a step forward, gripping the dagger at her waist.
“Unacceptable,” Rodan said, still not taking his eye off the merpeople leader. “I will not force myself into a marriage with a creature that would rather eat me than bed me.”
“I would do both,” the selkie whispered, “And you’d enjoy it.”
His gaze flickered over, catching Maeve’s eye. “I don’t think I would, my lady.”
The selkie hissed, flashing yellowed teeth and dark, brown gums. She made another lunge toward Rodan, but Maeve blocked her path again. The selkie pushed her, but Maeve stayed put, loosening the dagger from its sheath by a few inches. The selkie looked at her and grinned.
“Is it that you are promised to another?” the leader asked, his tone softening. “We respect such claims.”
“I am—” Rodan paused. “In negotiations.” Before anyone responded, he continued, “I would ask time, to think over your proposal.”
The merman frowned, looking between the selkie and Rodan. “You may have the rest of this day, and part of next,” he said. “If you do not return here by noontide tomorrow to give your answer, the curse will be laid again.”
Rodan gave a small bow. “So, it shall be. I will be here. Tomorrow.”
The merman nodded, turning his head to the selkie. “Come, Luna.”
The selkie unwrapped her hide, striding naked to the railing, and dove overboard. The two merman descended on their waterspouts before they, too, dove beneath the waves.
All was quiet.
“Well,” the captain said from behind them. “I can’t say I expected that.”
Maeve turned to him and gave a weak flutter of a smile. “Me either.”
Rodan sank down on one knee, his eyes closed, and his jaw clenched. Maeve knelt next to him, hesitating before putting a hand on his back. “I need to rest,” he said. “That was—quite a bit of magic.”
She nodded. Now that it was calm, she remembered sensing it too. The whirlpool had been more than a storm and a bunch of water; it had been magic, tearing itself into shreds. The residual pieces of it still made her skin tingle. The curse, a mighty thing, resisted being broken. Rodan must be exhausted.
“Please feel free to use the cabin again,” the captain said. “We’ll about course to Nucifera.”
The man walked off, shouting orders in that booming voice of his, while Maeve helped Rodan to his feet. He leaned heavy on her, his steps shambling but sure enough as they made their way back to the cabin. She closed the door
behind them, plunging them into the dim light that shone through the small porthole, and guided Rodan to the couch once more.
“I have the feeling you’re going to sleep like the dead tonight,” she said as his limbs fell heavy from her shoulders. “When we get back to the docks, I’ll ask the magistrate to get Ender from the stables. You shouldn’t have to walk all the way back to the inn.”
“I’ll be fine,” he argued, his mismatched eyes resting on her face. “Come here.”
Already close to him, he wrapped one hand around her wrist and pulled, so that she slid on the couch by his side. She opened her mouth to ask him what he wanted, when his lips caught hers, and her next breath was smothered by a deepening kiss.
Rodan kissed her like he was drowning, and she possessed the only breath of fresh air available to him. His hands came up to cradle her face, drawing her closer, and soon she sat astride him, her own fingers clutching and pulling at the shirt over his chest.
He pulled away enough to murmur against her mouth, “I thought we might perish, for a moment.”
She thought so as well, but she said nothing. Instead she closed the distance again, grazing his bottom lip with her teeth before sucking it into her mouth. She tasted seawater on him, and underneath that the citrus and smoke of him.
He made a noise deep in his chest and his hands fell to her hips, sliding back to cradle her backside, pulling her closer against him. “Maeve,” he said between kisses, “Maeve, are you alright?”
The question startled her enough to pull her out of the haze of desire that coated the encounter. She pulled back enough to stare at him, her lips still tingling and trembling. “Of course,” she said in a breath. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The selkie,” he replied. “I thought that you—”
“I’m not yours,” she said. “You’re not mine. This,” she motioned between them, “is what it is. Nothing more. If you need to make a political marriage, that’s no concern of mine.”
She told herself as much, when they stood on deck, and she stepped between him and the selkie. The creature was an irritation. A threat to keep from Rodan until he said otherwise. As it had been with the lovers she had taken back in her own world, what they did with their romantic lives was not her business. Maeve wanted Rodan. She wanted to be naked in his arms, but anything more than that would be a distraction they did not need.
But something he said on deck nagged at her. “What did you mean, that you’re in negotiations?”
His hands kneaded her lower back, and his expression became neutral, careful, as he answered, “I offered you the queenship, once.”
Maeve went still, then pushed off him, so she stood, his arms falling away from her. “That was a long time ago. Fifteen years for me. Fifty for you. How is that relevant?”
Rodan’s eyes rolled up to catch hers. The green one, morphing from a crystalline blue to deep midnight, the darker color swirling like ink in water to coat the iris, fascinated her despite the conversation. His mouth turned down a little at the edges. “Do you think I did so lightly? Do you think that I set myself to someone often? No one had been offered the queenship before you. No one. Not in two thousand years.”
Her hands shook, and she smoothed them down her pants, looking away from him. “You’re tired,” she muttered. “You should get some rest. I’ll be on deck.”
Maeve hated to think that she fled, but that was what she did. She fled the cabin, not pausing when she heard Rodan call her name. The light of the twin suns, intense after the shadowed confines of the cabin, made her shade her eyes as she walked unsteadily to a side rail. The ship rolled and plunged beneath her feet, and birds screamed from high above as Nucifera rose from the water far ahead, like some sunken city finally coming to the light.
A deep creak warned of someone coming up behind her, and she turned her head, watching Captain Fisher move to her side. His blue eyes squinted in the harsh light of midday, and his copper hair shone with highlights of bright yellow.
“Captain Fisher,” she greeted. “Everything okay?”
He looked at her, his deep eyes assessing, before a smile quirked his lips, twitching his full beard. “I would speak to you for a moment, if I could.”
Maeve nodded. “Sure.”
He glanced over his shoulder, and she followed his gaze. They stood removed from the cabin and, upon inspection, from his men. He turned his attention back at her. “I see the way you are with Rodan,” he said. “I’ve seen the familiarity with which you touch him.”
Maeve bristled, “And what business is that of yours?”
Conroy lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “I had something to say, is all.” He barreled on before she could reply. “Men like that, men with unchecked power and authority, do not deserve women like you. You’re too good a person, from all the tales and from watching you, to be with him. He’ll trample you to the ground, he will, and think nothing of it so long as it gets him to where he’s going. You best remember that.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Maeve said, her words clipped. “I don’t think you know him like I do.”
“Aye,” he said, his voice gruff. “I see his ilk near often enough to tell what I see with my own two eyes.” He leaned down, his breath puffing out to caress Maeve’s cheeks. “You would do better with simple, hardworking folk like myself and my crew. I know,” he hesitated, pushing on. “I could make you happy, lass. I know I could.”
Maeve’s heart gave a little fluttering misstep, and she backed away from the captain and his proximity, her head reeling. “I—thank you, I guess,” she stammered. “I’ll think on what you said.”
“You do that, lady Maeve,” the captain said with a pointed expression.
He moved away, talking with his men as the city continued to grow on the horizon. Maeve stayed put, watching their progress and digging her nails into the polished wood handrail.
The captain was an attractive man. She would not deny that. Yet there was no spark from him, no surge of longing or interest. Not like when she saw Rodan.
Maeve glanced over her shoulder at the closed cabin door. What was Rodan getting at, anyway, with his talk of queenships? Did he expect her to stay, if he won? Did he mean to say that he loved her?
She shook her head. No. It was not love, from what little she knew of love.
Maeve, too often shunted aside or abandoned, did not possess a true grasp on that emotion, yet she thought she would identify it once it appeared, once she felt it. And she hadn’t. Attraction? Yes. Desire? Gods above, yes. She still wanted to be in those arms. She craved the sensation of him now, and that craving would only get stronger the longer they remained apart.
Rodan remained royalty, she reminded herself. Even if he cared for her, he would make a political alliance someday. Marriage was the quickest and most efficient way to do so. All the history books of her world were a testament to that.
She lifted her chin and witnessed a dolphin break the surface of the water, flipping itself forward to dive back down into its depths. She smiled at that. The curse had been broken for less than an hour, and already signs of life were flooding back.
Maeve remained deep in thought as they drew up to the docks and slipped into their spot, Karl Yanni waiting for them on dock. She went to the cabin and knocked, calling through the door, “We’re back.”
Moments later, the door swung open and Rodan ducked out, looking a little less pale and haggard. His black and green eyes found hers, but she turned her head and disembarked.
At the dock, Rodan stopped long enough to create a small feast of meats, cheeses, bread, and flagons of ale. The sailors fell upon it like ravening beasts, all but Captain Fisher, who held back and stared at Maeve as she left with Rodan by her side.
They neared Karl Yanni, and Rodan gave the magistrate a slight nod. “The curse is broken, for now,” he said in greeting. “There remain negotiations to be had with the creatures who cast it.”
Yanni frowned. “What kind of creatures,
and what do they want? What have we ever done to them?”
Rodan filled the magistrate in on the information as they ambled back into the city. Where quiet reigned before, a gentle background murmur of happy voices now suffused the air, as did the clink of crockery and pots as food passed around. They passed several open cook fires surrounded by dozens of people, talking and laughing as they ate well for the first time in weeks, if not months.
Few paid the three of them any mind, but some stared at Rodan in open-mouthed fascination, perhaps recognizing the imperial sigil wrought into the leather of his vest, or otherwise the set of his face. No one stopped them, however.
Maeve saw shops open now, storekeepers doing a brisk trade exchanging their goods for foodstuffs. She slowed as she spotted an apothecary’s sign, and caught up to Rodan and the magistrate. “You two go on ahead,” she said. “I have a few things I want to do here.”
Rodan gave her a long look but the magistrate only nodded. “Of course, lady Maeve. You remember the way to the inn?”
“Yes,” Maeve assured him. “I’ll be along shortly.”
They moved along, Rodan giving her a single backward glance, questions in his eyes, but she turned and ducked into the apothecary.
The shop, like others of its kind, greeted her with familiar smells of herbs and the musk of animal skins. Lit well from the enormous front window, rows upon rows of herbs, crystals, liquids, and supplies lined the shelves along the walls. As she passed through the half door, a bell tinkled somewhere in the back of the shop, and soon a tall, broad woman came out, wiping her hands on a gray cloth and looking Maeve up and down. “I hope you have coin,” she said in greeting, “for I see no food on you.”
“I have coin,” Maeve assured her. “And I need a few supplies.”
Ten minutes later she left the shop, lighter by two gold and six silver coins, but carrying a small parcel that she clutched to her chest as she walked.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Catching Pathways Page 15