Summer's Fall

by Carol E. Leever

"Not real then," Kyr turned away from the waves. "Just shadows. Fish with swords and angry faces."

  "Why don't we all go see about dinner," Kadana suggested. "This is probably the most excitement you'll get all trip. Summer crossings to Kharakhan are very peaceful."

  "Not summer," Kyr muttered. Omen patted the boy on the back and steered him below deck.

  Chapter 12: Dinner

  OMEN

  Omen gaped through the open door into the great cabin. "It's . . . different . . . bigger!" he exclaimed, intrigued.

  Kadana beamed and waved the six hungry youngsters into her private quarters. The cats, one large, one small, padded behind the group, giggling and whispering to each other. All Omen could make out were the words "flying" and "fish."

  The captain's plain cabin had been lavishly transformed into a spacious dining room, fully prepared with an extravagant feast. A long mahogany table, twelve formal, heavily embroidered chairs and a long dark wood buffet took up the space Kadana's bunk and desk had formerly occupied.

  Where did all that fancy furniture come from? How does it fit? Omen bit his lower lip. The curiosity sparked by the depth and breadth of magic so casually on display gnawed at him.

  Kadana isn't a spell caster, but she surrounds herself with the most extraordinary magic.

  Large, enchanted golden orbs placed strategically around the room emitted a golden glow and lent a warm and inviting atmosphere to the already comfortable space.

  Kyr glared at the humming orbs as he entered. "Shh!" he snapped at the lighting. "You're being rude."

  More elementals!

  The cabin's smell of cedar planks and sea salt had mingled with the delicious fragrances of a sumptuous meal and drew Omen's full attention.

  Sweet. Exotic. Spice. Can't wait to dig in!

  All flat surfaces were laden with an abundance of bowls steaming with crisp vegetables and scented grains. Plates of every conceivable shape had been piled high with samplings of delicacies from the sea. Omen eyed a porcelain oval brimming with squid ink pasta.

  That looks so good. His mouth watered involuntarily. How did Mégeira fix all of this? I was in the kitchen all morning, and I only saw half this stuff. He noted a deep serving bowl with his Melian fish stew. Center stage. He smiled to himself.

  Kadana stood at the head of the table, filling seven goblets with a bubbly pink liquid.

  "A toast!" she called out as a cabin boy in stark white passed drinks to Shalonie and Liethan.

  As the companions took their seats, Omen surveyed the offerings on the sideboard buffet. He noted several empty vessels.

  More coming. Yum!

  "To a successful journey!" Kadana raised her glass. "Enjoy! We can't eat like this every night."

  Omen rushed to accept a goblet and drained it on cue. Hope Tormy didn't catch that last part.

  "Melian sparkling wine?" he asked his grandmother.

  "I suppose." She studied the bottle still in her hand. "Beren had a few cases of Litranian wines sent up. They're all very good. Even if this one is pink."

  Litrania. Never visited that region. Omen made a mental note.

  Two cabin boys pushed several of the chairs to the far wall, making room for Tormy at the table.

  Omen took a fried shrimp from a delicate silver bowl and dipped the morsel in the accompanying red sauce. The sharp bite of horseradish brought water to his eyes.

  "Tasty," Omen said, waving his hand in front of Tormy's face. "Not for cats. Too spicy. You'll cry."

  The myriad of muscles in Tormy's fluffy orange face did a dance of perplexed outrage. "I is not crying!"

  "Just have the shrimp without the sauce."

  Defiantly, Tormy dipped his tongue into the vessel and licked up most of the spicy sauce.

  "Nightfire!" Omen dove to the sideboard and reached for the carafe of cream next to the strawberries.

  "Omy! Omy! Omy!" Tormy wailed. "Hot. Hot. Burn. Burn!" Tears dripped down the cat's face.

  Stunned, nobody moved as Omen dumped the entire carafe of cream into an empty soup tureen. The company also heroically refrained from laughing as Tormy shoved his large pink tongue into the thick cream in an effort to soothe his burning mouth.

  The cat let out a sigh of relief and proceeded to clean the tureen of every remnant of the soothing liquid.

  "Attaboy, Tormy. That'll put hair on your chest!" Dev passed the carafe to a petrified cabin boy. "I think we need more cream."

  "What's not &#*@^$! hot?" Tyrin hopped next to the shrimp bowl and sniffed an oval platter with a spread of a dozen steamed lobsters. "Can I have a whole lobster?" He brazenly pawed at a crustacean roughly his own size.

  "Why don't you take that one?" A wide smirk crossed Kadana's lips, and she filled a different goblet with amber liquid from a cut crystal bottle. She did not offer the drink to the boys or Shalonie. "Eat. Eat! The cats already started."

  "Your cabin . . . changed?" Omen ventured as he sat next to Kadana. He picked up a shrimp heavy with fried batter and coconut shavings.

  Mmm. No need for sauce.

  "The Golden Voyage has rooms that are larger than they should be, a galley kitchen that allows for both cooking and cold storage, a salt water converter, and captain's quarters that I can change as I see fit. The only thing it can't do is fly." Kadana had a jolly sparkle in her eyes as she switched from the amber liquid to dark red wine. She nodded to the cabin boy to fill her guests' glasses as well.

  "But you have flying skiffs," Liethan threw in, sipping from his glass with care. "I've never seen flying fishing skiffs before. My Grandpa Seth would love those."

  "I acquire things," Kadana said simply.

  "How?" Shalonie asked outright.

  "A combination of brute force and cunning," Kadana answered, the look on her face oddly both carefree and serious. "That's what I hear say."

  Omen found his wild grandmother more and more interesting by the minute.

  "Of course," Shalonie agreed. "We've all heard the songs."

  "Mostly lies," Kadana countered jovially. "Especially those written by Beren."

  Omen sputtered his drink. "The Ballad of the Bloody Beast?"

  "Lies."

  "The Rhyme of the Rescued Realm?"

  "Lies."

  "The Death of the Mother of Swords?" Liethan picked up his wine. "Well, I suppose that one isn't true. You're obviously alive."

  "Actually, that one is true." Kadana looked smug.

  Liethan put down his goblet.

  "But how did you acquire this ship?" Shalonie pressed. "There must be thousands of people who wanted it."

  "And I am the one who won it." Kadana chugged her wine and poured herself another before the serving boy could reach her. "And I'm the one who can keep it. I make my own luck. Always have."

  "Lady Kadana, you've said you won the ship in a card game," Dev fished for more.

  "On the Golden Voyage, I'm captain not lady," Kadana corrected lightly. "It was a card game like no other, the conclusion of an adventure that changed the course of all of our lives."

  Omen perked up. His own mother rarely spoke of her youth, the time she had spent traveling the world with Indee, Kadana, Beren, Kylee, Arra and Simetra Corsair, and Diemos, the scariest of them all. He looked forward to the story.

  "It was winter. Many winters ago. We had fought our way through to the top of the Mountain of Shadow."

  Both Omen and Shalonie simultaneously gave small starts. They looked at each other.

  "We'd been searching for some artifact or another." Kadana settled into an obviously abbreviated version of the tale. "Beren spotted it first, on a wall. He grabbed for it. At that point, Kylee was barely alive and wouldn't have made it if Arra hadn't called up her powers to bind the last spark of life in Kylee's body."

  "My middle name is Kyel — named for Lady Kylee," Liethan added between bites of butter-drenched crab.

  Omen tried to picture the scene. Lady Kylee lived in Melia, on Dragonberry Lane. His mother called her a thief, but Lady Kyle
e had always been generous and kind to him. He had a hard time picturing the delicate, dark-haired Daoinee woman as part of his mother's legendary — or infamous — group of adventurers.

  Kylee sure never brags about it.

  "Something about Arra throwing that spell right as Beren touched the artifact opened up a random portal," Kadana continued casually as if she were telling them about the weather outside. "Threw each of us for a spin. We all ended up in different, wildly strange places."

  Shalonie stayed silent, but Omen could tell she was drinking in every bit of information.

  "Don't know much about the others, but found myself at a card game with heavily armed, very powerful looking people — Not people exactly . . . things really. Didn't know who they were. Didn't know the rules," Kadana said with laughter in her voice. "But I played like my life depended on it."

  "Which it did?" Dev asked, sounding sure of the answer.

  Kadana nodded, as expected.

  "Bluffed my way through the round." She poured herself another goblet of the red wine. "Put everything I had in the pot. I knew once the game was over, I would have to fight. I was just trying to gain time, to prepare."

  "And you won?" Shalonie asked, a mix of disbelief and awe on her face.

  "Everyone had dropped out." Kadana scooted her chair closer in. "Except this giant tattooed wizard. He must have been seven feet tall, covered in green and blue sigils all over his body."

  "A Ven'tarian sorcerer," Shalonie gasped.

  "That's right," Kadana said, impressed. "But I didn't know that at the time."

  Her fingers reached for a gooey lobster roll. "He threw a little carving of a galleon into the pot. Said that was the key to the most fabulous ship in the world. Trouble was, I had nothing else to throw in."

  "What did you do?" Liethan asked, completely absorbed in the telling.

  "What could I do?" She popped the entire lobster roll into her mouth and chewed heartily.

  Omen looked around. Everyone's eyes were glued on Kadana, including the cats'.

  That's some good, fast story weaving.

  "I put Beren in the pot and won the hand," Kadana finished, deadpan.

  Shalonie gasped again, her eyes wide. "You put your son up as collateral in a card game?" She sounded genuinely upset.

  Kadana shrugged it off. "I won. And I got the key to this boat."

  "But Beren?" Shalonie dug in. "How old was he?"

  "Beren could take care of himself," Kadana said, unfazed. "Ask him sometime where he ended up. Funny, he never wrote a song about that." She laughed heartily. "Between getting the key and getting the ship, I had my hands full. Didn't make it back to Kharakhan for years, and by then everyone had scattered to the four winds."

  Omen couldn't tell if there was an edge of sadness in Kadana; it seemed unlikely.

  "It all worked out." Kadana reached across the table to heap her bowl full of Omen's Melian stew. "It always does."

  Omen checked on the cats, who gobbled and slurped with abandon. Seeing his brother had only piled potatoes on his plate, much to the horror of both Tormy and Tyrin, Omen sighed. "You can't eat just potatoes, Kyr," he told him.

  Kyr shook his head. "I'm angry at the fish," he insisted.

  "All the more reason to take your revenge and eat them," Dev suggested, holding out a plate of seared Luminal sea bass to the boy.

  Omen laughed at that, more so when he saw the startled look on Kyr's face. To his surprise, Kyr took the platter and began piling fish on his plate.

  "If that is true, I will be vengeful," the boy agreed pragmatically.

  Tormy, who had moved on from the cream to swordfish steaks, purred happily. "We is being very vengefullnessness, on account of the fact that feeesh is good."

  "Kharakhan. You boys will love it." Kadana poured a thick, blue substance into a tiny glass and threw it back. "You too, Shalonie. Spent the best of the worst of my misspent youth in Kharakhan." She laughed, a harsh sound. "Ended up settling down there too."

  "You're sure she's your grandmother?" Templar whispered smugly, which made Kadana laugh with a raucous edge. She poured another glass of the blue alcohol.

  Mother did say she drinks a lot.

  "I'll tell you all you need to know about dealing with Kharakhians." Kadana grabbed a whole lobster off the center platter and cracked it open with her bare hands. "Hit 'em hard." She chewed like a hungry dog and threw back another gulp. "Amandirian ice wine. Not for the inexperienced drinker." She stoppered the bottle and directed the cabin boy to carry it away. Oddly enough she did not appear even slightly drunk, her gaze still clear, her movements unhampered by inebriation.

  "And . . ." Omen prompted, wondering what he would need to know about dealing with Kharakhians.

  "That's it." Kadana shrugged. "Just hit 'em hard. If they get back up, hit 'em harder. Pretty straightforward."

  The dessert course ended further discussion.

  "This should be an outstanding crossing." Kadana tapped her spoon against the caramelized sugar top of her custard. "You'll see. Easy. This time of year the weather is fantastic, and the ocean is smooth as butter. Nothing to worry about."

  Chapter 13: Dessert

  SHALONIE

  For Shalonie, dinner had proven to be a curious affair. As she carefully cracked the burnt sugar top of her vanilla custard, she reflected on the goings-on. While Tormy's antics with the overly spicy food and Kyr's amusing declaration that he was mad at the fish were certainly entertaining, she found Kadana's stories as disturbing as they were enlightening.

  "The Ballad of the Bloody Beast," "The Rhyme of the Rescued Realm," were not, as Kadana had insisted, all lies. Shalonie had researched the songs quite thoroughly when she'd first heard them. Having grown up in a land of music and song, she was well-versed in the embellishments bards tended to add to their stories. But far from embellishing these tales, Beren Deldano had in fact left out several of the more extraordinary parts of the stories — concerned perhaps that the actual events would have been too unsavory for a Melian audience.

  Like "The Ballad of the Bloody Beast." It hadn't been only the beast who'd been bloodied. The song failed to mention the entire city that had been massacred and eaten prior to the battle that had ended the monster's vicious rampage. Wholesale slaughter generally doesn't pair well with a catchy tune, she thought. Or maybe it does.

  The other stories were even worse in some regard, and Shalonie found it intriguing that Kadana shrugged all the tales off as lies. Perhaps that would make sense in a room full of children. Shalonie frowned as she looked around. Neither Templar nor she were children, and certainly Devastation Machelli had seen his fair share of darkness.

  Omen is only fifteen, she reminded herself, though it was hard to reconcile the young man's actual age with his physique. Tall and powerfully built, there were no men on board the ship who would be a physical match for him — save Templar. Blood of a god. She shook her head. I can't begin to predict what Omen might be capable of one day.

  Still, I suppose it's possible that Kadana sees us all as children. Liethan was Omen's age, and while the Corsair boy himself possessed the faerie blood of his grandmother, his golden looks were still boyish and carefree. Grew up around Corsair sailors. Probably knows more curse words than Tyrin ever will.

  Certainly Kadana looked at Kyr and saw a child, skinny, harmless and innocent. Though from what Shalonie knew of his past, Kyr was older than all of them, and far from innocent, having endured the most horrific conditions known to any immortal. He possessed the same divine blood Omen did, but in his case that had been all that had kept him alive where a mortal would have perished.

  In spite of all that, the boy appeared to be the soul of innocence, hardly different from the two cats. Perhaps that's how Kadana sees all of us, Shalonie reasoned.

  "Now, you never did tell me what this trip is all about," Kadana proclaimed after finishing another of her many stories.

  Shalonie glanced over at Omen, curious. Truthfully, beyond know
ing he needed to go to the Mountain of Shadow, she didn't know the details either. He's been surprisingly mum on the subject.

  "Um . . ." Omen glanced uncertainly over at Kyr, who seemed entranced by the contents of the footed bowl in front of him — ever so cautiously tapping his spoon on the caramelized sugar to get to the velvety cream beneath. "That's actually a bit complicated."

  Neither Kyr nor the cats were paying much attention to the conversation, focused instead on their desserts. Templar and Liethan exchanged knowing looks. They know what's going on.

  "Complicated?" Templar demanded. "What's complicated about it?"

  Omen sighed heavily. "It got complicated," he explained. "More complicated. It's a bit hard to explain . . . or speak about . . . or . . . if I even hint that I'm not . . . actually I can't say that either . . ."

  He trailed off, and Kadana slammed a heavy bottle down on the table in front of them. "I hate complicated," she said. Then grinned. "Grain-cast on the other hand — never complicated. Especially if it's made from Kharakhian barley. " She pulled the cork from the bottle labeled just "Grast," a common name for the hard grain-made drink. She began filling their goblets with the amber liquid. "Drink up."

  Shalonie smiled, though she made no move to obey — she wasn't a drinker beyond the occasional glass of Melian wine. No, thank you. The boys however were quick to comply with the order, all attempting to mimic Kadana as she threw back her head and drank the fiery liquid in one gulp. Dev alone managed, seeming as unaffected by the drink as Kadana herself. Kadana had swallowed an obscene amount of alcohol that evening and still showed no signs of drunkenness.

  While Omen, Templar and Liethan all grimaced at the burn of the drink, Kyr shrieked in outrage and grabbed Tyrin's bowl of cream and gulped it down.

  Kadana burst out laughing. "Never did meet an elf who liked grast," she admitted. "Probably should have said something."

  "Kyr, stick to the water," Omen urged, patting his brother on the back.

  The boy spoke through pressed together teeth. "I don't know how to swim. And the fish with swords is mean. It can see with its hands."

  Laughter filled the room at that pronouncement.