Of Sea and Song

by Chanda Hahn

  Even destroyed, I could feel the heaviness of the omen weighing on my heart. It was the driving force that solidified what I needed to do. After our chores were done and we retired for the night, I lay awake watching the moonlight stream through my window and waited until my sisters were in a deep sleep. I was thankful it wasn’t a full moon and that no one needed to be up for solstice spells.

  I slipped out of my bed and was careful not to wake Rhea or Maeve. Honor’s bed was empty, and Aura slept on the floor above where Rosalie and Eden used to sleep. Now there would be two empty beds on each floor, because I doubt Rosalie, Eden, or I would ever come back.

  A tear of remorse slid down my cheek, and I brushed it aside with my palm. I removed the pillowcase and packed my comb, spare day dress, extra socks, boots, my satchel of medicines, a mirror, and money. Tiptoeing down the stairs, I snagged fruit from the kitchen, dried meat, and a few rolls to add to my pack.

  Using a quill, I left them a note.

  * * *

  Dearest sisters,

  I’m afraid I have become a burden to you and that my presence will bring more harm than good. I know this. Because of my error in using magic, I’m fearful of the repercussions I have brought upon our household. I have chosen to leave to keep you safe, so that the Brunes Guild will never come here.

  Please explain to Mother for me.

  ~Merisol

  * * *

  I stood in the doorway and took one last look around the main living area before heading out of the tower and into the night. I dared not cross the main bridge, in case there were still townsmen out for my head. So I headed toward the northern edge of our property, where the river was nearly impossible to cross because of its fast current.

  I took a deep breath, calmed my nerves, and raised my foot over the water. The enchanted rocks sensed my presence, and the boulders rose to allow my passage. They only allowed the daughters to cross here. When I was safe, I waved my hand, and the water receded, covering my escape. But I had not gone unnoticed. The water churned, and a deep-purple head and black beady eyes peered out at me.

  Diesel whined beneath the water, and his bubbles burst along the surface.

  “I’m sorry, dear friend, but I must go. Please watch over my sisters.” I tossed him a chunk of my bread, and he scooped it up with his tentacle and disappeared beneath the water.

  I flung my pack over my shoulder and took off into the chilly night. Skirting the town of Nihill, I stuck to side roads. A few miles out, I could hail a passing transport. It didn’t matter where I went. I had no destination in mind as long as it was far away from here.

  The transports were carriages that had specific routes that traveled between the kingdoms. Fae horses that could travel significant distances without food or water usually pulled the carriages. The transport would fly a banner signally what country it was headed to, and on the door would be another one if they could pick up more fares.

  For the first few hours, I was the only passenger. By morning, we picked up two more passengers. The Bakers, an elderly couple, were heading to Candor for their daughter’s wedding. They chatted amicably and asked me many questions I was hesitant to answer. They seemed to conclude that I was shy, and they gracefully even offered me part of their packed lunch.

  But I was skeptical of everyone who came and went. With magic mirrors becoming more common, it wouldn’t be long before others learned of my crime. There may now even be a bounty on my head. I just had to go far enough away that no one cared.

  If being snobbish and dismissive kept me alive, so be it.

  In the middle of the night, the transport slowed to a stop. My head jolted forward and my bag almost slid off my lap. The elderly couple continued to sleep undisturbed by the commotion. The wife’s head was nestled on her husband’s shoulder, his mouth slightly ajar as he snored.

  I lifted the flap on the window to peer into the dark, suspicious of anything and everyone. Ominous clouds and constant rain made it impossible to read the town signboard but I could smell the saltiness of the sea, so I knew it must’ve been a village along the coast. The transport’s lantern created a halo that barely illuminated the reason for stopping. The driver was picking up another passenger. I could see a man’s black silhouette as he stood on the side of the road. No horse, no bags, nothing in his possession other than the handle of a sword that peeked out from beneath his large cloak that covered him from head to toe.

  The stranger spoke to the driver in an inaudible voice, and I strained to hear what they said over the sound of the rain hitting the head of the transport. The handle on the door turned, and I leaned against the side wall, pulled my cloak over my face, and closed my eyes, feigning sleep. The transport dipped as he stepped on the first step, and it swayed as he swung inside to claim the padded bench seat next to me. His leg bumped mine as he settled in and closed the door.

  Even with my eyes closed, I could feel his silent perusal of the passengers, and I swore his eyes lingered on me, for my skin prickled slightly, and goose bumps formed along my arm.

  The driver climbed back into the box. With a crack of the whip, we were moving again. The jostling of the transport caused the stranger’s hip to press into mine, but I dared not move. Instead, I let my hood slide enough where I could study him under lowered lashes. In the dark, I could not tell much, other than he had a straight nose and square jaw and that he was tall, for his legs took up every available inch of the floor.

  The rain from his cloak seeped into my leg where his thigh pressed against mine. I couldn’t help it—I shivered from the chill.

  The stranger must have noticed, because he straightened and pulled away. I used the opportunity to inch even closer to the wall, hiding my face and praying no one would recognize me.

  The hand mirror in my bag on my lap hummed as my sisters tried to contact me again. It was an almost constant buzzing I had successfully ignored until now. I wasn’t about to answer it in present company. It was safer this way.

  I glanced over at the stranger and could feel his eyes on my bag as it continued to hum. His head cocked as he listened. The black hood turned toward me, waiting for me to do something about the noise.

  When my sisters didn’t give up, I stood, lifted the bag, and shoved it under my thighs, where the padded seat and my bottom muffled the noise. I crossed my arms and turned toward the sideboard, giving him my back. I swore I heard a muffled laugh.

  How dare he laugh at me? I was only trying to be considerate. Now I would just ignore him for the rest of our journey. We wouldn’t be near each other long. Just until he got off.

  It took a long time before I fell asleep. And what seemed like only minutes later, I woke as the driver pulled into a waystation.

  The door opened, and our driver stood outside, patting his dusty hat against his side. “We’re at the Four Winds Waystation. We will be changing horses and picking up mail. I’d suggest going inside for some breakfast or taking a walk. We will be back on the road in an hour or so.”

  “Oh, breakfast sounds marvelous. Don’t you think, Jeffree?” Mrs. Baker addressed her husband as she gathered her skirts to exit. The driver extended his hand to help her to the ground.

  “Yes, dear,” Mr. Baker said through a yawn and hopped out.

  The stranger next to me stirred. His legs stretched out and stopped, barring the door. His head was against the rear wall, the hood pulled low, and all I could see was his dimpled chin. I waited for him to move and exit the transport, but he didn’t.

  “Excuse me, sir. I would like to pass.”

  Nothing.

  I wasn’t about to touch him or disturb his sleep, so it forced me to step over his legs and down onto the first step.

  I grabbed my bag and a handful of my skirt in my left hand, my right pressing against the roof as I tried to step over the stranger’s long legs. I was about to pull my other leg over when the gentleman stirred and turned, knocking me off balance.

  I let out a cry and felt myself stumble toward
the open door. Firm hands grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back inside. I landed in a very warm lap.

  My hood had fallen back, revealing my deep-red hair as I looked up into the bluest eyes I had seen on a man. They were a sapphire-blue and mesmerizing. His lips pulled into a half smile. I blushed.

  “Excuse me,” I spat out and pushed my hands against his muscular chest. “Unhand me.”

  “I saved you.” His voice was deep; it affected me unnaturally. “You were about to fall out of the transport.”

  “I wouldn’t need saving if you had the decency to move and allow me to pass, you big brute.” I pulled my hood back over my red telltale hair.

  His eyes narrowed.

  The firm hand that gripped my elbow in support now thrust me away from him. I slid off his lap and landed in a thud on the floor. He pulled his legs out of my way and stared at me as I hastily left, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. There was no reason for him to treat me so rudely. I tried to wake him up, and he didn’t stir.

  “Basta,” I uttered the fae curse word under my breath. I took pleasure in Lorn’s extracurricular lessons and getting one up on the stranger. For no way could he know fae.

  The waystation was one of the larger hubs for the kingdoms, as it was four transport services that shared and serviced one inn. It was the largest inn I had ever seen and served food day and night. Behind the inn were individual stables, all owned by various transport companies. Our transport pulled into the Oak and Leaf building where the stable boys wore green-and-gold tunics. Two came to attend the horses. One unhooked the first horse and led him into an empty stall for a brush down. Another boy carried a fresh bucket of what I assumed was water into the stall, but a pungent smell followed, and I doubted the contents. The fae horse almost knocked the boy over in its enthusiasm to drink the mysterious liquid.

  I frowned and tried to place the scent.

  “Brandy,” a deep voice spoke from behind me. I heard the transport creak as the stranger stepped down. “It’s better than water for the half-breed fae.”

  I refused to acknowledge the man and pretended he didn’t exist as I spun and made my way out of the barn and followed the Bakers into the inn. The three-story inn was a large manor with an inner courtyard open to the sky. The north wing was the drivers’ quarters, where they could grab a bunk and catch a few hours’ rest, a hot bath, and food. The east and south wings were passenger lodgings, leaving the western wing as kitchen and tavern. The Bakers chose one of the open tables in the courtyard next to the fountain, enjoying the sun and food.

  I hung back under the interior balcony and kept to a table in the shade, watching everyone with a wary eye. From my table, I could see the drivers come and go into their hall, and each slowed as they came to a notice board. Enchanted scrolls and maps were tacked on the board and were magically updated with current weather forecasts, road hazards, and bandit sightings.

  A portly transport driver with a long duster jacket came in from the Wind and Ice Stables. He ran his finger along the map. He tapped it three times over a certain trail and spoke aloud. “Thunder Pass is now open. Rainfall has washed out the smaller trails. Be wary.”

  A giant red X that was on the road into the mountains disappeared, and the road turned green. The smaller trails along the route turned yellow in warning. It was fascinating to watch the map change as other drivers in the seven kingdoms were updating their waystation maps, and in turn, the one in this station changed as well.

  Our own driver didn’t even glance at the enchanted map as he rushed up the stairs and headed down the hall marked Bathing Rooms.

  “Brekkie?” a soft voice asked.

  “What?” I looked up as a youthful woman in a conservative blue dress, apron, and bonnet that covered soft-brown curls placed a glass of water on the table. Unlike taverns where the servants were dressed to ply their many wares, food, and other services, here they were modestly clothed.

  “Brekkie?” she repeated. “Eggs, sausage, bread. It’s included in your passage fare. Anything else is an added charge.”

  “Oh, yes please.”

  The servant nodded and returned with a small plate of food. My stomach growled. With my spoon, I shoved the eggs and sausage onto my bread and folded it in half, quickly devouring it in a few bites. I worried about parceling out my money for my trip and was thankful for the small meal. After I used my finger to wipe up any leftover juice from the sausage, I felt a pang at the empty plate. I could have easily eaten two more platefuls of food.

  A scurry of excitement drew my attention as the notice board changed. The map and weather notice disappeared into the background as papers shuffled to the front to be replaced by the wanted posters. Ferocious mugs of thieves and bandits appeared along the board. Few took notice. A few of the drivers looked up and shrugged.

  My hand gripped my spoon. I stared at the board and waited for the inevitable. It was only a matter of time for the news to travel. With how often my mirror hummed in my purse, I knew that eventually someone would get a notice out of Nihill.

  Minutes later, the flurry of posters disappeared, and the maps and weather notices fluttered and reshuffled to the front.

  I let out a breath I did not know I was holding.

  A platter of food dropped in front of me, and I looked up at the stranger from my transport, who took the unoccupied seat across from me.

  “Mind if I sit here.”

  I kept my head low. “I do.”

  “Well, I don’t.” The chair scraped across the floor, and the stranger pulled it out and folded his enormous frame into the seat. His long legs again struggled to fit under the table, his knees bumping the top.

  What was he, part giant?

  “I fear we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he began.

  “No,” I snapped. “It’s because you wouldn’t move your foot.”

  “Ouch!” He laughed. “That’s true. But if we will journey together, I fear I may owe you an apology. I’m Brennon.” A huge hand shoved across the table over my empty plate.

  I still kept my head down, refusing to get a closer look. If I looked at him, that meant he had a closer look at me. He could identify me. It was easier if I ignored the offered hand and any further exchanges all together.

  It pained me to do so, but I let the hand linger in the air until he withdrew it.

  “I see. Seems there is no repairing what’s been done.”

  “There will be no need,” I added hastily. “For we will not be traveling together long.”

  “Well, we don’t know that for sure. Where are you heading to?”

  I shrugged. “Wherever you are not.” I grabbed my plate and stood up. I decided I had to find the driver and settle up now. This new passenger was way too curious. I couldn’t afford to travel farther if he was in the transport. I passed a table full of men who looked like they weren’t passengers. Their clothes were dirty, and one was armed with a bandolier of knives. From the amount of empty mugs in front of them, it seemed they were in no hurry to leave. One man had long tattoos that ran up his arm, and when he saw my glance at his arms, he quickly covered them with his sleeves.

  I shivered as my senses kicked in. That one had an air of death about him. He kept his face hidden under his cloak, but I could tell he was watching me.

  Instinctively, I skirted away from them. I found a bin and placed my plate there then walked toward the north wing and notice board, hoping to catch the driver as soon as he appeared or to send another driver up after him. Except I didn’t remember my driver’s name.

  Wringing my hands, I paced in front of the boards, and when they changed again, the wanted posters reappeared, and this time the room took notice. I heard the gasps, the change in mood as the scuffling of feet and clatter of silverware paused.

  I dragged my eyes to the board, and my heart dropped into my stomach. An enormous banner appeared across the entire board with the words WANTED FOR MURDER.

  Beneath it, a very detailed sketch appeare
d, and I had the unfortunate timing to stand directly next to my portrait. There was no hiding my identity now.

  Mrs. Baker pointed in my direction, her finger like a beacon as every eye turned my way. She wobbled, took a step forward, and fainted.

  Chapter Four

  Mrs. Baker’s collapse broke the awkward silence. Chairs screeched across the floor, trays of food dropped, and many ran for the doors. The sinister-looking men lunged from their chairs after me. From the greedy and desperate look in their eye and the eagerness with which they charged, I knew they were trouble. The closest man pulled a throwing knife from his bandolier, his arm pulling back as he aimed.

  I opened my mouth to sing and then froze. Nothing came out. I was paralyzed with guilt and fear. I would not be charged with murdering more innocents. Instead, I closed my eyes and waited for the strike. My punishment had finally come.

  A hard body knocked me to the ground as the dagger impaled itself into the notice board with a thud.

  “Idiot,” Brennon muttered. He dragged me to my feet, his grasp on my wrist solid like an iron manacle, unbreakable. He forced me to follow him up the stairs to the drivers’ quarters.

  “Let me go!” I yelled.

  “I do and you’re dead.”

  I winced as he turned into the first private bathing room. He slammed the door and slid the lock. Heat blasted my face, and steam billowed around us like a white curtain. Brennon didn’t stop. He released my hand, went to the copper pipes, and adjusted the valves so that the room filled with even more steam.

  The door thudded as a body slammed into it. More banging followed as my pursuers tried to break down the door.

  “This way!” Brennon grabbed my elbow. He went to the outer wall, threw open the window, and put his long leg over the sill. He held his hand out to assist me, and we both crawled out onto the thin three-inch ledge. I clung to the window frame in terror. Brennon sidestepped to the right. “Follow me.”