Saya crossed her arms and stared down at the map. “All right. I guess we’re headed to Shavhalla, then.”
“I guess we are,” Mitul agreed.
Lucian turned to Jameson and chuckled humorlessly. “So, to make sure I’m not missing anything here, you want them to go to a haunted city in the wildest forest in all of Erythyr, survive whatever enchantments are guarding the place, steal a bunch of old records that may not even exist anymore, and just hope that if they do exist, they’ll tell them how to break this curse?”
Jameson shot him a look. “Well, when you say it like that, you make it sound utterly hopeless.”
Kesari, who had been silent during the entire conversation, glanced up at Lucian. “Them?” she said softly.
“What?”
“You said them. Not us.”
The grin faded from Lucian’s flickering flames. “I assumed we weren’t going. You still have a Bond to break and years’ worth of time to catch up on with your family.”
“I think I may need to reconsider breaking our Bond,” she said quietly. Despite the softness of her voice, a new spark flickered in her eyes, the hint of something bold that made her look almost like a different person altogether. “And as for my family…” She looked around the room between all of them. “I have one right here, too. And if you’re all headed into an ancient, enchanted palace in a cursed forest, it seems to me you might need a Tarja.”
Amar smiled at her, genuinely happy that she’d decided to come with them. “We’d be lucky to have you.”
Lucian made a pointed, crackling noise that sounded a bit like someone clearing their throat.
“And you, Lucian, of course.”
The Spirit Tarja let out a laugh that was, for once, not the least bit sarcastic. “Well then,” he said, “it looks like you all get to enjoy my delightful company a while longer. I can’t think of any greater privilege. You’re all very lucky.”
Kesari rolled her eyes and swiped at him with her hand. He darted away and flipped in a circle up to the ceiling, cackling to himself all the way.
32
Kesari
Kesari held her pack open while her mum inserted several brown paper parcels tied with string. Her dad watched from the doorway, jaw working as he chewed on his bottom lip.
“I hope it’s enough,” Mum said, clicking her tongue as she stowed away the last parcel of food. “I don’t want you going hungry out there.”
“It’s plenty. Thanks.”
“Do you have enough money?” Dad asked in a low, gruff voice. “We could spare a little more coin if you think you’ll need it.”
“No, I’m fine, really.”
It made her feel like a very small child again, the way they fretted over her. When she’d told them her plans to accompany the others to Shavhalla, they’d tried to talk her out of it. Mum had cried, and Dad had raised his voice the way he used to during his worst arguments with Lucian. The knot of guilt over leaving them still twisted inside her gut, but as she’d explained to them last night, this was something she had to do. She’d come so far with Amar and the others, and being with them had helped her feel more like herself—like the person she’d lost to the fire two years ago. But that feeling was new. She was still trying to figure out who she was and who she wanted to be, and she couldn’t do that if she stayed here, where her past was so near, dragging her down with cruel, sharp claws.
She had to go. Knowing she had a family and a home to return to made leaving both easier and more difficult.
Her parents had come around by morning, or at least they’d pretended to. They still didn’t fully understand or approve, she knew, and their unspoken misgivings hung in the air like an invisible wall. But they were trying to be supportive in their own way, Mum with her home-cooked food parcels and Dad with his offer of coin they both knew full well he couldn’t spare. She gave them both a hug before slinging her pack over her shoulder and heading out the door.
Navya waited outside with Lucian, and their hushed conversation trailed off when they saw Kesari. “I thought you were going to stay,” Navya said, her shoulders squared as she turned to her sister with crossed arms.
Kesari winced at the accusatory note in her voice. “I know. But I won’t be gone so long this time, and I swear I’ll come home as soon as it’s over.”
Navya’s brows drew together, and she blinked rapidly, like she was trying to hold back tears. “Why does everyone else get to be more important to you?” she choked out.
A shuddering crack ran through Kesari’s heart. She glanced at Lucian, but he had no words of advice to offer, and the dark voids of his eyes were completely expressionless.
“It’s not that they’re more important,” she said, taking a step toward Navya. She wanted to offer a better explanation, but the younger girl leaned away, donning a mask of cold indifference. Even if she could explain herself, Navya wouldn’t hear it. The best she could hope for was that her sister would come to forgive her in time.
“I’m sorry,” she said, knowing the words were useless but having nothing better to replace them. “Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.”
She gave her mum and dad one last embrace and walked away from her childhood home, feeling Navya’s glare on her back all the way to the road.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Lucian asked. He hovered beside her, and a few people stared curiously as they went by. Kesari was still trying to get used to the attention, but in light of her efforts to overcome her fear of her magic—not to mention the broken lantern—it was better that Lucian stayed out in the open. She was a Tarja, and hiding her Bond with him wasn’t going to change that.
“I think so,” she answered. “More sure than I am of anything else, anyway.”
“If it’s what you want, I’ll support you, of course. But if you change your mind…” He hesitated a moment. “I think you should know Jameson and I did find a way to break Spirit Tarja Bonds. That’s still an option, if you want it.”
She didn’t—at least, not right now. But curiosity prickled at her. “How?”
“The process itself is less complicated than we imagined,” Lucian replied. “The link between us comes from our sharing the same life—your life—which is what allows altma to flow from me to you. But it’s still my altma creating the Bond, which means I could take control of it, with enough focus and effort. I’d be taking control of you in the process, but then I could sever our Bond, and we’d no longer be connected. It would be difficult, and the cost to either of us would still be great. But it’s possible.”
“What would happen to you?”
“I’d probably linger for a while, until my altma faded away and allowed my spirit to move on.”
Kesari frowned. “So you’d be gone. Forever.”
“Yes, but don’t let that be the determining factor in your decision. As I’ve said before, I already lived my life. This life is yours, and it should be your choice.” He darted ahead of her to hover in front of her face. “Whatever you feel is best, I’m with you.”
Kesari nodded. After all the time she’d spent searching, to finally have what she’d been seeking came as a relief. She could break her Bond with Lucian, but she no longer wanted to. Doing so would only mean running from her problems again, and she wasn’t so certain anymore that escape would bring the inner peace she wanted.
“Thank you for letting me know,” she said. “But for now, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“And it’s my honor,” Lucian said, grinning at her with his jagged smile.
When they arrived back at Jameson’s tower, the others were already waiting. They’d finished packing everything they would need for their journey and were now going over a few last details with Jameson regarding Shavhalla. The wizard folded up a map marking the presumed location of the ancient city and handed it to Amar, who stuck it into his journal.
“You’d better get going,” Jameson said. “Your ship leaves right at noon—the captain was very a
damant about that. She won’t wait.”
He’d been gracious enough to book them passage on the ship himself, asking only that they return with whatever incredible discoveries and knowledge they found in Shavhalla. He was so excited by the prospect of exploring the lost city that Lucian had tried to convince him to come along, but ultimately, the wizard had decided he wasn’t particularly well-suited to life on the road and insisted on staying in the safety of his tower.
“Where can we find this ship?” Mitul asked, slinging his satchel over his shoulder.
“It’s at the far south end of the docks, near the castle,” Jameson replied. “An Atrean naval frigate. The Vindicator, captained by a woman named Olivia Rutledge.”
Kesari exchanged a glance with Lucian. “That’s Rajiv’s ship!”
“Your brother?” Saya asked.
She nodded. “He joined the navy as soon as he was old enough. He only served for a couple of years, but that was the ship he was assigned to. He used to say Captain Rutledge was the best in the entire Atrean Navy, even if she did used to be a pirate.”
“Used to be a pirate?” Jameson said. “I had no idea. Though that does perhaps explain why she was willing to break protocol and ferry a few travelers all the way to Pahari.”
Mitul, Amar, and Saya exchanged worried looks, and Mitul tentatively asked, “How does a pirate end up serving in the Atrean Navy?”
“She helped them with something years back,” Kesari said. “Worked with them to capture another group of pirates who’d crossed her, if I’m recalling Rajiv’s stories correctly. But she did such a clever job that the navy decided they’d rather have her as an ally than an enemy. They turned on her, and once they’d captured her, they offered her a choice: execution or enlistment.”
“Not much of a choice,” Amar said.
“Exactly. They gave her the worst ship in the whole fleet at first, just to make sure they could catch her if she decided to cut and run, and they assigned all the sailors no one else wanted to her crew. But she earned their respect and loyalty, and she eventually convinced the navy to give back the ship they’d stolen from her. She renamed it the Vindicator. Rajiv used to say she’d never have a respectable name among the powers that be, but they know they’re lucky to have her on their side.”
“I think I’m starting to like the sound of this captain,” Saya said. “Let’s go meet her.”
They bid farewell to Jameson and headed for the docks. Kesari spotted the Vindicator almost immediately, easily remembering its pouncing lion figurehead from all the times she’d spent waiting for Rajiv to come into port. She’d met Captain Rutledge a few times, but she wasn’t sure the woman would remember as their encounters had always been brief. As they approached the ship, she straightened the collar of her freshly-washed coat in an effort to make herself look more presentable.
They found the wide dock where the ship was stationed engulfed in a flurry of activity. A tall, red-haired woman barked orders to various crewmen, who scurried to obey. “Check those guns, Hensley. Lieutenant Kain, I expect our stores to be filled by the time I return. Master Gambol, chart our course and have the crew make ready to set sail.”
“Aye, captain,” came a chorus of replies.
Captain Rutledge spun around on her heel. Her long coat billowed out behind her in the wind, the same color and style as the one Kesari now wore but adorned with various insignias befitting her officer status. Her sharp, gray eyes fell on the newcomers, and a cutlass swung from her hip as she marched toward them. A thick scar cut across her face from beneath her left eye to her jawbone, making her smile appear more than a little roguish. “Do my eyes deceive me, or is that one of Rajiv Eves’ rascally little sisters?”
Kesari grinned back at her. She did remember, or at least she remembered her association with Rajiv. “Kesari,” she said, in case the woman had forgotten her name or which of Rajiv’s sisters she was. “It’s good to see you again, Captain.”
The woman looked her over appraisingly. “You’ve grown up a fair bit since the last time we met. And you look more like him, too.” She gave Kesari another smile, this one sad and almost apologetic. “He was a good man, your brother. Might have made a fine officer one day. We were all sad to lose him.”
“That’s very kind of you to say,” Kesari replied, staring at the dock beneath her. She doubted Captain Rutledge knew it was her fault Rajiv was dead, or she wouldn’t be acting so nice right now.
“What brings you here?” the captain asked, her eyes flitting to the others.
“We’re coming with you,” Kesari said. “To Pahari, I mean. We’re the ones the Wizard Jameson asked you take.”
“What a delightful coincidence!” Captain Rutledge replied. “Almost makes me regret charging the man double for your passage, but I expect he can afford it, great important wizard like that. Come aboard then, and I’ll have Nate show you where to stow your things.” She led them to the gangplank, calling out in a clear, ringing voice as they walked. “Nate! Come here, please.”
A freckle-faced boy of about twelve scampered across the ship’s deck and down the gangplank to stand in front of Captain Rutledge, waiting for instruction.
“These are the guests I mentioned. I trust you made space for them below deck. Why don’t you show them to their quarters?” She turned back to Kesari and raised her hand to the brim of her hat. “Welcome aboard the Vindicator.” Then she was up the gangplank and marching the deck, shouting orders to the crew as she oversaw their last preparations to set sail.
The space Nate had found for them ended up being four bunks at the far end of the crew’s quarters below deck. It was small and cramped, and there was barely enough room for them to stow their belongings, but Kesari didn’t mind. She didn’t plan on spending much time there anyway.
After shoving her pack under her bunk, she turned and surveyed the rest of the crew’s quarters for a few seconds. There were so many beds, and one of them had been her brother's. She’d have to ask which one later. Surely some of the crew would still remember him.
She followed the others back upstairs to the top deck, where Captain Rutledge began shouting orders to set sail. She stood at the helm, head high and proud with her long, auburn hair streaming in the wind behind her. “Hoist anchor! Unfurl those sails and put her to sea.”
White sails flapped open above them, and the ship pitched forward a little as wind filled the canvas. Saya’s eyes widened, and she gave Kesari a look that suggested she was going to spend the next few days feeling very ill. Amar and Mitul flashed each other a grin as the ship left the dock for the open ocean. Kesari gave Deveaural one last glance, then turned around and set her gaze on the endless blue expanse before her.
33
Aleida
The late evening sky was dark and clouded when Aleida and Valkyra arrived in Deveaural, the only light shining from a few gas streetlamps and the windows of buildings that lined the cobblestone roads. Despite neither of them having been to the city before, finding Jameson Weatherford’s tower was a simple matter with the assistance of a friendly passerby.
Now, Aleida stood in the shadows of a darkened shop down the street, studying the tall, circular building nestled in its own little garden. Smoke rose from a narrow chimney on the roof, and a faint yellow glow emanated from a window at the top of the structure, but there had been no other signs of activity in the time she’d been watching. It seemed Jameson was alone, but Valkyra flew closer to peer inside. She returned after a few minutes.
“He’s in bed reading a book,” she said. Her tiny claws pricked Aleida’s shoulder as she landed. “As far as I can tell, it’s only him, though there is a sign on the door threatening violence should he be disturbed outside of normal business hours.”
Aleida nodded and turned to the horse behind her. He gave a soft nicker as she reached into one of the saddlebags. She pulled out a scarf and some gloves, which she used to cover her nose, mouth, and hands, then reached into the opposite bag and withdrew the careful
ly wrapped daravak she’d collected near Malfram. If Jameson cooperated, there wouldn’t be any need for it, but it didn’t hurt to have options, especially when dealing with a Tarja as powerful as his reputation suggested.
They approached the tower. A paper sign printed with clear Atrean letters was posted on the door—the warning Valkyra had mentioned, no doubt—but Aleida ignored it. She raised her gloved fist and knocked.
A voice spoke seemingly out of nowhere, but the Atrean words were incomprehensible to her. “What was that?” she whispered to Valkyra.
“The same warning written on the page. You might want to brace yourself before you try again.”
“What do you mean?”
Valkyra nodded to the door. “It might hit back.”
Aleida channeled altma and sent it flowing into her muscles. She shifted into a wider stance, knocked again, and immediately felt the thrust of energy that exploded from the door and slammed into her. Even with her own magic strengthening her body, she barely managed to stay on her feet.
There was still no response from the Tarja within, and after a few seconds, Aleida recovered her breath, channeled her altma again, and knocked a third time.
The blast that followed was much stronger, and she staggered back a few steps. Her ribs and sternum ached from the force of the blow, and she could barely take a breath. Curse this Tarja and his abominable tower!
She glared up at the window. A head appeared, black hair shrouding a pale face, and a man’s voice called down to them in Atrean.
“He’s telling you to leave,” Valkyra translated.
“I figured that,” Aleida muttered. She called back to Jameson in Kavoran, hoping he would know the language. “I need to talk to you. I’ll break your door down if I have to, but it would be a lot easier for both of us if you’d come here.”
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