Tethered Spirits

by T. A. Hernandez

  Jameson angrily muttered something she couldn’t make out.

  “It will only take a few minutes,” she said. “I promise. I just have some questions.”

  He sighed. “Fine, then. Wait there.”

  They waited. And waited some more. Aleida paced back and forth in front of the flowering shrubs. Surely it didn’t take that long to descend a few flights of stairs. Maybe she should break the door down after all.

  Finally, it flung open. Jameson’s mouth was turned down in a sour frown as he held up a glowing orb of light and regarded her through narrowed eyes. “What do you want?”

  “I’m looking for some people who passed through here. They were coming to see you.”

  “I see lots of people,” the man replied. “And I don’t make a habit of sharing their business. It wouldn’t be professional.”

  He started to shut the door, but Aleida took a step forward and put a hand out to stop him. “Please. It’s important that I find them. My little brother’s life depends on it.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled drawing of Amar—one of several she’d done on the road on the way here. “This is him. He would have come here asking you about a curse. He’s immortal.”

  Jameson’s green eyes widened, and he looked her over again. Aleida could see the cogs in his mind turning as he pieced together what little he knew of her—foreign clothing, Visan accent, the white dragon perched on her shoulder. She summoned as much altma as she could hold, allowing the energy to wind itself tight within her. This was going to be a fight.

  “You’re her,” Jameson said.

  She tensed. “Tell me—”

  A blast of magic to the chest cut off her words and flung her back onto the cobblestones. She pushed herself upright as a flurry of books came hurtling toward her. She managed to dodge or deflect most of them with her own magic, but one caught her in the side, and a thick volume struck her in the nose. Blood seeped out, soaking through the scarf she still wore around her face. The door slammed shut.

  Cursing, Aleida barreled straight into it, using all the strength she could channel into her body to knock it down. Jameson gave a yelp and headed up the stairs, his oversized robes swirling around him. Aleida shot a bolt of white-hot lightning after him, but he put up a glowing barrier that absorbed the attack. At the same time, a disembodied suit of armor charged at Aleida with its sword raised. She ducked just in time to avoid decapitation.

  “He’s getting away!” Valkyra called out. She flew up the stairs after the Tarja, and Aleida continued to fend off the attacking suit of armor. She ducked under its arm and got close enough to touch its metal body. With her own magic, she sought out the altma that had been used to animate it and absorbed every last bit into herself. The armor froze in place with its sword poised directly above her, unable to deliver its fatal blow. Aleida sucked in a breath but didn’t stop to enjoy her relief. She darted for the stairs, taking them two at a time in her pursuit.

  Valkyra reappeared in front of her. “Watch out!”

  One of the stairs dropped out below Aleida’s foot. She jumped over the gap only to hit her knee against another step which had sprung up higher than the rest. The entire staircase was roiling and buckling and in some places vanishing altogether, but years of climbing seaside cliffs in Libera had made he nimble and quick. She caught a glimpse of Jameson’s robes fluttering around the next bend and redirected all of her altma into her feet, giving herself an extra burst of speed.

  She rounded a corner and ran right into Jameson before she saw him, but quickly recovered her bearings and tackled him to the ground. They tumbled down several steps until they reached the landing below, and she finally managed to pin his arms to the floor.

  A burst of light shot from his fingers to a tapestry on the wall. The fabric wrapped itself around her ankles and dragged her back. She maintained a firm grip on the man’s arms as Valkyra dug into her pocket and pulled out the bundle of daravak. Pieces of the mushroom scattered across the floor, but the dragon seized one in her claws and shoved it up against his nose even as the tapestry started to win its fight with Aleida. After a few more seconds of struggle, it released her, and Jameson’s limbs went limp.

  “Daravak,” he spat. “How dare you use such dishonorable tactics on another Tarja?”

  “I tried to ask you nicely.” She kept him pinned to the floor with her own body and brought her face closer to his. “Tell me where he is.”

  “Gone,” he replied with a smile that was much too smug for a Tarja with no magic.

  “But he was here,” she replied. “How long ago? Where did he go?”

  “I’m not helping you.”

  Aleida’s blood burned through her veins. If Amar was gone, she had no time to beg for answers. She needed results. Now.

  She sent a shock of altma through the man’s body. He cried out, and she looked away from the pained grimace on his face.

  “Where did he go?” she asked again.

  “I don’t know,” he choked out.

  “You’re lying.”

  Valkyra scurried up Aleida’s back to whisper in her ear. “He won’t talk unless you really hurt him.”

  She swallowed. She’d never enjoyed this particular method of forcing information out of people, but Valkyra was right. If this was what she had to do to save Tyrus, what did it matter whether she liked it or not?

  She put her palm against Jameson’s forehead and released another current of lightning. He screamed and thrashed. Her hands started to shake, but she kept the current flowing a few moments longer.

  When she stopped, the Tarja trembled and let out a weak groan. Aleida swallowed the bile in her throat and tried to shut out Mama’s voice in the back of her mind, reminding her about Artex’s teachings of kindness and compassion. It had been a long time since she’d forsaken such virtues in favor of doing what was necessary.

  “Where is Amar?” she asked.

  Jameson only whimpered in response.

  Aleida extended her hand, nauseated before she even touched his skin. This time, she didn’t draw out the magic as long as before. Maybe the man would finally come to his senses and answer. “Where did he go?”

  His breaths came out in quick, shallow pants. Had she gone too far? Would he even be able to speak to them now?

  Valkyra turned to Aleida, her expression as serene and composed as ever. “Again.”

  “No,” Jameson croaked out. “No more, please. I’ll talk.”

  She stood up and hoisted him to a sitting position against the wall. He whimpered and leaned against it, as limp as a sack of potatoes. He didn’t speak for a few seconds, and Aleida stepped closer, trying to ignore the way he winced in her shadow. “Where did Amar go?”

  “Shavhalla,” he responded. “I sent him to Shavhalla. There are records there that might tell him how to break the curse.”

  A familiar panic chilled her blood. If Amar broke his curse before they could reach him, they wouldn’t be able to transfer it to Tyrus, and even Valkyra didn’t know how to recreate a curse of immortality. They had to catch up to him before that could happen.

  “How long ago did he leave?”

  “Yesterday,” the man said, straightening a little. “Before noon. I bought them passage on a navy frigate escorting a merchant vessel to Pahari.”

  “What ship?”

  “The Vindicator, captained by a woman named Olivia Rutledge.”

  “And the merchant ship?”

  “I don’t remember.” Jameson’s words tumbled out in a frantic rush. “But it was bigger, probably slower.”

  Aleida pursed her lips. They were closer than she’d thought, less than a day behind their quarry. If they could find a fast ship willing to take them up the coast, they still had a chance of catching up. “Any idea where we can hire a ship?” she asked Valkyra.

  “Maybe. But one of us should stay here to guard him.”

  She frowned. “Why not leave him and be on our way?”

  “I think it’s bet
ter if he comes with us,” the dragon replied. “We may need his help to find Shavhalla, or we may need to interrogate him again if we find out he’s lying. He might even be a useful hostage when we next meet Amar and his friends.”

  Aleida gnawed at her bottom lip. Bringing Jameson along could slow them down, but Valkyra made a compelling argument. And if the man dared do anything to hinder their progress, they had ways of encouraging cooperation. “Fine,” she said. “But how are we going to pay for passage?” They had long since run out of what little money they’d had to begin with.

  “Oh, we won’t be paying for our own passage, dear.” Valkyra’s silver eyes drifted back to Jameson, the corners of her mouth curving in a demure smile. “A famous Tarja like you, employed by the king himself—I’m sure you have plenty of coin to spare, don’t you?”

  The Tarja’s face seemed to pale even further. “I—that’s not—you can’t just—”

  “Stop sputtering,” Aleida snarled.

  He flinched. “Fine, all right. Money. I have money. Just please don’t hurt me anymore.”

  Aleida bit back the apology hovering behind her lips. She grabbed Jameson around the arm and pulled him unceremoniously to his feet. “Good. Let’s go get it.”

  He led her upstairs to the top floor and through a green door. The room behind it was as cluttered as the rest of the tower, but in a way that felt almost cozy. She watched his every movement like a predator, ready to strike should he try to escape or fight her off again. But for now, at least, the man seemed fully subdued.

  He walked to a small chest in one corner of the room and dug around inside. After a few seconds, he withdrew a bulging pouch that was the size of both of his fists clasped together. It weighed heavy in Aleida’s grasp when he handed it over to her, the coins inside making soft, metallic sounds as they rubbed together. She knew without even opening it that it was more money than her family had ever had at any one time in her whole life.

  She tied the pouch to her belt and nodded back to the door. Keeping Jameson in front of her where she could see him, they made their way back downstairs.

  Valkyra was waiting for them on the ground level, riffling through the books and notes spread across a large table. She turned to them as they approached, her eyes locking with Jameson’s. “What are all these notes about Spirit Tarja Bonds?”

  He rubbed at the back of his head. “Oh, that was for the other two. Kesari and Lucian.”

  “The Tarja who was with Amar?” Aleida asked.

  “Yes. They wanted to break their Bond. I was trying to figure out how to make the process safer.”

  “But it’s impossible to break a Bond.”

  Jameson shook his head. “It’s certainly not recommended, but it is possible. Although to do so would come at a great cost to the parties involved.”

  “Did you break it for them, then?” she asked. If he had, that would be to her advantage. She doubted the girl would be much of a fighter without her magic. One less foe for her to face, should it come to that again.

  “No. They decided they didn’t want that after all. Almost a shame, after all that research. I was very curious to see what might happen.”

  Aleida rolled her eyes. That was just her luck. Any glimmer of something good happening for once, and it was snuffed out like a flame in the wind. She sighed.

  “I see our generous host has decided to part with some of his wealth,” Valkyra said, eyeing the pouch at Aleida’s waist. “I’ll go to the docks and see if I can find us a ship. You’ll keep an eye on him?”

  Aleida nodded and followed the dragon to the door. She started to open in, but Valkyra fluttered up to her shoulder, furry muzzle brushing against her ear. “Be careful with him,” she whispered in Visan. “He might look harmless now, but he didn’t earn his reputation without being both clever and talented. We don’t know what tricks he’s plotting.”

  “I know,” she replied. “Hurry back.”

  The dragon flew out the door with an elegant swish of her long, silky tail, and Aleida closed it tight behind her. When she turned, Jameson was watching her with a curious expression. “What’s her name?” he asked. “And yours.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

  “Seems we ought to properly introduce ourselves, don’t you think?”

  Aleida considered Valkyra’s warning, but surely there wasn’t any harm in telling the Tarja her name. If they were going to be dragging him along with them, they’d all become well acquainted soon enough. “I’m Aleida. Her name is Valkyra.”

  “Valkyra,” he mused. “Hmm. She must have been a very powerful Tarja to have taken on that form, but I can’t say I’ve ever heard of her.”

  “Not every powerful Tarja feels the need to live in a great big tower and take on lofty titles,” Aleida retorted.

  “Fair enough.” He out an enormous yawn and slumped into an armchair near the fireplace. “I must say, I’m rather exhausted from all that fighting and torture and thievery. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take a nap.”

  He said it in such a carefree way, but Aleida cringed anyway. What would Mama and Papa say if they could see her now? What would Tyrus say? Would they still be proud of her and the lengths she was willing to go to for her family, or would they be disappointed?

  She was still mulling this over as Jameson tipped his head back and promptly began to snore.

  The night dragged on, and Valkyra didn’t return. Aleida retrieved her belongings from the horse still waiting outside, packed a bag with some clothes for Jameson, and helped herself to his food stores. Afterward, there was nothing to do but wait. She grew more impatient with each passing hour. All she could think about was how fast an Atrean naval ship was, how far ahead Amar must be by now, and how much farther he was getting as the seconds passed by. Jameson remained in a deep slumber, which only irritated her further as her own exhaustion sank in. She didn’t dare close her eyes and take her attention off the man for any prolonged period of time.

  At last, there was a scratching at the door, and she opened it to let Valkyra in. “What took so long?”

  The dragon held her nose in the air. “It’s not easy finding a fast ship with a crew willing to chase down a navy frigate. I think I did magnificently, given the circumstances.”

  Aleida sighed. She needed to sleep. Once she had a few hours rest, she wouldn’t be so agitated. “Sorry.”

  Valkyra fluffed her wings out behind her back. “We can set sail as soon as we get to the docks, so if you’re done complaining…”

  Needing no further prompting, she shook Jameson awake. “Time to go.”

  “You’re leaving?” He sat up and pushed his shaggy black hair out of his face.

  “We’re leaving,” she reminded him, then tossed him the bag she’d set next to her own. “I packed you some things for the trip while you were sleeping.”

  “Are you certain you want me to come?” he asked pleasantly. “I’m not much of an adventurer. I’m afraid I’d only slow you down and get in your way.”

  Valkyra hopped from the table onto Aleida’s shoulder and leveled her keen gaze at the man. “If you do either of those things or cause us any other sort of trouble, I can promise you’ll regret it.”

  Aleida adopted her own cold expression to back the Spirit Tarja’s threat. Jameson looked between them, sighed, and said, “All right, no trouble. I understand.”

  Aleida motioned to the door. “Lead the way.”

  “Wait,” Valkyra said. “Put an illusion over him. He’s bound to attract attention out there.”

  Jameson visibly deflated. Perhaps it had been his plan all along for someone on the streets to recognize him and save him from his captors.

  Aleida had never been particularly skilled with illusions. It took a few attempts to create something passable, but by the time she was done, the scrawny man was disguised as a burly sailor with an unremarkable face. As long as no one looked too carefully, the illusion would hold up long enough to get them to the docks. For goo
d measure, she channeled altma to put a barrier over his mouth, which would prevent anyone from hearing him should he try to cry out for help.

  They made their way to the docks without incident. Aleida had never seen so many ships in one place since Libera fell to ruin, and even then, there hadn’t been this many. Valkyra directed them to a well-maintained vessel at the farthest end of the port—a brig, if she was correctly remembering Papa’s lessons on the different types of Atrean ships they’d watched from the shore near home.

  She had never seen the crew of these ships before, but she was fairly certain that the unsavory group of people standing before her now were pirates. One wore a great brimmed hat with ragged feathers and frayed edges. Another had so many piercings that she could hardly distinguish the flesh of his ears from the metal. On the deck of the ship, she spotted a one-armed woman with a wooden peg for a leg. Another man leered at her with a grin full of holes where there should have been teeth.

  This was the crew Valkyra had found to help them hunt down Amar?

  The man with the ragged hat stepped forward and bowed low to all three of them. “Greetings, Mistress Aleida.” He spoke Kavoran with a heavy accent she couldn’t place. “Me name’s Cutter, and I’ll be yer captain on this voyage. I trust yer Spirit Tarja has informed you of the details of our arrangement?”

  Valkyra chimed in before Aleida could respond. “You take us to the Vindicator and help us board her. You can have whatever you see fit to take, except the man we’re hunting.”

  Aleida nodded to show she understood.

  “Excellent,” the captain said. “And our payment?”

  She dug through her pack for the pouch Jameson had given her, the contents of which she’d divided up and stowed away in various other places on her person and amongst her belongings. The pouch itself was still fairly heavy, and Cutter’s eyes gleamed greedily as she passed it over to them. He shook it a little and smiled when the coins jangled, then waved them forward. “Come aboard, then. I’ve got a lovely bunk set up for you in the officer’s quarters.”