Shoulders dropping, the sprite flew to Jagger instead, and perched on his shoulder.
Traitor.
Felicity lurched forward, and their crew spread themselves out on the deck before the mast, her fathers in a row before her.
Ebba peeked over their shoulders and gasped at her first sight of the creature descending from the dark clouds in the distance.
The thunderbird’s sheer size stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth. He demanded attention even from a thousand feet away. And as they sailed closer in the ship, his wingspan blocked out everything behind him.
The massive bird continued to lower until it hovered just over the water. The thunderbird’s feathers had the same pearly sheen as the one beneath the surface of the tubes, a sight Ebba had learned to attribute to the presence of magic.
But that wasn’t the weirdest thing. . . .
“How is he hovering above the water without beating his wings?” Caspian breathed.
“No notion,” she whispered back. “But we should be glad he ain’t flappin’, if the story o’ his storms be true.” Though the bird wouldn’t need to create a storm to finish them—he could simply bite Felicity in half by the looks. The god of souls’ beak was hooked with a wicked and sharp appearance.
Her head tilted farther and farther until Felicity bumped against the creature’s feathered stomach. No one uttered a word as the thunderbird’s enormous height cast the deck in thick shadow.
Ebba’s head was almost fully craned, her hand on the hilt of her cutlass.
As if they stood any chance against this creature.
“Mortals,” the god of souls spoke, tucking his wings tight against his sides.
Her heart jumped into her mouth at the sound of the creature’s voice. Though not a particularly beautiful sound, the timbre of it shot like an arrow directly under her ribs. She gasped, pressing a hand over her heart.
Lifting her head, Ebba saw the rest of the crew were in a worse state. Some of them hunched or doubled over.
The thunderbird’s eyes flicked to where Sally sat upon Jagger’s shoulder. The gigantic bird inclined his head to the sprite in a nod and then blinked, directing a narrowed stare through the ship deck for a lengthy moment.
“Mortem,” the thunderbird hissed.
Uh . . . what?
“You carry a feline aboard your ship?” the god of souls continued.
Barrels shared a look with them. “Yes, thunderbird. We do. He is our ship cat.”
“We can give him to ye if ye’re inclined to let us pass,” Stubby blurted, ignoring Barrels’ gasp of horror.
The god of souls lifted his gaze to them once more, tilting his head all the way to the right. “You seek entry into immortal waters.”
Immortal waters?
“We seek entry into the Dynami Sea,” Stubby puffed, half doubled over from the effect of the god’s voice.
The thunderbird blinked, but Barrels was quick to intercede.
“In this age, the waters of the Exosian realm are named the Caspian Sea and the east side is the Dynami Sea. We did not know these were immortal waters.”
“Both mortals and immortals were and are free to reside where they like. The Dynami Sea is harsh, and mortals gravitated to the easier climate on the west side of this world, leaving the east waters free for marine immortals to live.”
The god of souls hadn’t attacked them and was offering information freely. That felt like a good sign.
“Are there a lot o’ marine immortals here at the moment?” Plank asked, a pained edge to his voice.
“Those who wish to be, yes. Magic has only recently returned to this world. Most are yet to trust this development, preferring to wait. Only the courageous or the foolish—or those drawn to mortals—have chosen to come here.”
Ebba wasn’t so sure she like that last part.
The creature preened its great wings with a small shake. A gust surged from the god in a wall. With a cry, Ebba was lifted off her feet and flung backward.
Her palms hit the deck with a stinging slap before she entered into a bruising roll across the wood. Her frenzied tumble was halted when she bowled into someone already jammed against the hull.
She coughed and scrambled to extract her limbs from Jagger’s, shoving his warm hands from her waist as he tried to help her up.
Her fathers groaned, pushing back to their feet. She hurried over to help Barrels up, marveling at the immortal’s strength; a single shake of the thunderbird’s feathers sent them sprawling. No wonder the bird didn’t flap its wings to stay above the surface.
Fear tingled under Ebba’s ribs, and a newfound—and healthy—respect swept through her. The kind of monstrous storm the god of souls was capable of creating was not one she wanted to be caught in.
“The test is simple, mortals, but you must be sure you wish to take it?” the thunderbird said, tilting his head to the side to peer at them once more.
Ebba shifted her feet wide and braced herself to avoid hitting the deck a second time. But the movement of the creature’s head didn’t send her flying. The storm-making quality seemed confined to the bird’s wings.
She didn’t want to anger him but dared to ask, “If anyone can live where they like, why do ye need to test mortals afore they enter?”
“I test anyone who passes this point, be it west or east, mortal or immortal. I test because there must be consequences for those who disrupt the peaceful afterlife of a deserving soul.”
Beside her, Plank froze. “Yer vessels? Souls from this realm, ye say? They go on?”
Ebba shot him a look. Why was he asking stupid questions? They already knew that.
The thunderbird inclined his head. “This world and others. If none aboard your ship have killed the vessel of a light soul, then you may pass.”
Ebba threw a glare at Jagger, who appeared uncommonly serious as he gripped the hilt of the sword. Was the veritas telling him he was about to die?
Most likely.
Plank and Peg-leg exchanged a look.
“All right, thunderbird,” Locks said with a low bow. “We would like to pass. How will ye test us?”
“Oh,” the bird said, slanted eyes glinting. “That is the easy part. But are you certain you will not turn back? Can you speak for all onboard?”
Stubby raised a hand. “Just to be clear-like, will we have the option to throw a person overboard if it be just one or two o’ us that fail?”
The thunderbird contemplated this, tilting his head to bird-like angles again. He spoke, and Ebba winced anew at the jolt to the space under her ribs. Was that her soul reacting to the god? She had no idea, but it didn’t feel good—which might mean she should re-evaluate her life choices.
The god surveyed them, the thin light reflecting off his pearly feathers. “If the number of you who pass the test is greater than the number who fail, I will allow you to be rid of those to save your own lives.”
Ebba frowned. “But won’t that make our soul rot? I don’t want to pass now, only to fail when I’m sorted into the good or bad pile in the oblivion later.”
The god’s slanted eyes shot to her, making her regret speaking. Suddenly, Ebba was far less sure of whether she’d killed a bird in the past.
“Killing a person does not determine your soul, brown child.”
Brown child! Her jaw dropped.
“It is how you kill, why you kill, what you do after you kill, and your remorse for misdeeds that are weighed. And as long as there are consequences to those who kill my vessels, I care not in which form it takes.”
He was mighty protective of these vessels. More so than he cared for mortals, anyway. Ebba smelled a double-standard, but she had a feeling mentioning that might leave them with a one-way ticket to oblivion. And seeing as she wasn’t one for too much remorse, Ebba supposed she’d be going to Davy Jones’ locker anyway. Better not anger the big bird and get there sooner.
“Enough.” The thunderbird snapped its beak and pulled back its wings.
Felicity pitched at the tiny movement, her bow fully lifting off the ocean with the resultant drag forward. Ebba crouched to steady herself with a hand on the deck seconds before the ship landed with a slapping explosion of water.
She still landed on her butt—as did everyone else by the sounds of her fathers’ groans, louder this time.
Ebba got to her feet a second time, ignoring Jagger’s grunt as she removed her elbow from his gut.
“Will you turn back, or will you be tested?” the creature asked, his eyes sliding over Felicity and their crew.
Stubby rubbed his butt, wincing. “If we turn around, can we enter the Dynami Sea from somewhere farther north?”
The god’s eyes flared. “I am found in the heartline of this realm, no matter where a being crosses.”
Ebba’s heart thundered in her ears as she, alongside the others, stared into the immortal’s great orbs, now filled with a rainbow of different hues.
“Yer eyes remind me o’ the Earth Mother,” she mumbled, standing utterly entranced by the swirling midst of the thunderbird’s eyes.
“The Earth Mother,” the god repeated coolly. “Do not insult me, infant.”
Ebba couldn’t be certain if she preferred ‘infant’ or ‘brown child’ more. “But ain’t she a power o’ the oblivion too? Just like ye?”
“I care for the light souls and banish the dark souls to the corner where they belong. What I do rewards those who have earned peace and exacts darkness on those who have caused chaos. I maintain balance in the abyss. The Earth Mother merely creates on a whim and thwarts my efforts to punish her original people for killing my vessels. If she put a bit more effort in and didn’t stand in the way, maybe there wouldn’t be so many twisted souls filling the abyss. More and more of them.” The god cut off, eyes sparking.
Ebba was inclined to think she’d stumbled on a sore spot for the thunderbird. “Do ye think more bad souls be comin’ to ye because o’ the six pillars?”
The thunderbird stilled. “How come you to know of the pillars of six?”
She lifted a shoulder. “They’re takin’ over the seas and land west o’ here as we speak. The Earth Mother said all sorts about how they’d been evil and why me and my fathers had to stop them.” At the time, Ebba hadn’t cared one jot about destiny although the foretelling painting of her in the sacred caves on Pleo had always stayed with her. Now, Ebba very much wanted to know just why her crew was entangled in this mess.
“You’re the ship of mortals destined to meet the pillars?” The creature seemed doubtful. “Papatuanuku has told me of you.”
And likely not in a favorable light. Perhaps they’d botched saving the realm so far, so she could blame the two powers for their doubt. Their crew had just lacked . . . commitment. “Can ye tell us why we were chosen?”
“You were chosen. The root of magic has always been in control of such things. The Earth Mother can see what is possible, but the root of magic selects the path that is apparently best for it.”
Ebba glanced at the dynami. She wasn’t sure it hadn’t been the other way around. They were the ones who’d embarked on the quest in the first place. The root of magic hadn’t chosen them. Or it didn’t seem that way.
Jagger stepped forward. “Ye said you were chosen. Did ye mean Ebba or the whole crew?”
The thunderbird frowned. “The brown child was selected by her two counterparts, clearly. Such a mortal always comes with a . . . crew. Is that what you called it?”
And with the way the beam of light shot out of her, Jagger, and Caspian, Ebba could wager a guess who the two other counterparts were. Again, Ebba really didn’t see that as true. She and Caspian had met by chance. And Jagger was only here because they took him hostage for a different reason months ago.
But something else occurred to her. “I don’t suppose ye’d be lettin’ us pass, seeing as we’re tryin’ to save the realm and all from the pillars?”
She caught Peg-leg’s approving look but kept her face impassive.
“No,” the creature answered, deflating her hopes immediately. “Do not seek to thwart the rules. I do not care who you are. There must be consequences for those who kill my vessels. Your crew had chosen not to turn back. And now you shall face my test.”
Ebba took a breath.
“I demand that all here look into my eyes,” the immortal said softly. “Do not look away, for that I shall consider a failure also.”
She shared a long glance with her fathers and Caspian. As one, they faced the thunderbird again.
Ebba clenched her hands before peering straight into the bird’s left eye.
The rainbow swirling in his eyes was moving faster, faster. Ebba wavered on her feet as the sight of the rapid circling threatened to unbalance her. A pain stabbed in the area under her ribs, but the needling sensation spread out across her chest, across her torso, and up her neck to fill her skull.
Her eyes watered, and she struggled to maintain her stare into the thunderbird’s eyes.
Just as a scream hovered on the edge of her lips, the pain stopped.
Ebba staggered forward, still not daring to break her stare with the god of souls. She dragged in a long, hitched breath.
The swirling in the creature’s eyes slowed until eventually they were once more lazy currents of rainbow hues. “Pass,” the thunderbird said to her.
The immortal worked down the row of her fathers, dropping each pirate to their knees during the test. But he announced a pass for each of them.
“Pass,” he said to the prince next, who hadn’t uttered a single word nor shown much pain during the test. Guess all landlubbers were ‘deserving souls’.
A glance at the prince showed his amber eyes were huge and fixed on the god of souls. Unlike the rest of Felicity’s crew, he hadn’t glimpsed a more fearsome magical creature than a selkie or sprite yet. Ebba probably looked like that when she first saw Ladon.
The thunderbird peered at Sally afterward, and his eyes softened. “Pass,” he announced in a ringing voice.
“Should probably check her again,” Ebba muttered under her breath, shooting the sprite a glare.
Sally scowled at her.
The god of souls focused lastly on Jagger, and the bird’s eyes flared as he spoke a single word.
“Fail.”
Eleven
Ebba covered her ears as the thunderbird’s roared screech speared through her. The god reared back to his full height. And then she was flying through the air again.
In a ball, she smacked against the bulwark and, this time, she stayed down.
“You have killed many of my vessels, mortal. I could glean but little from your soul, but the pieces I saw were riddled with the hunting of my flock,” the bird said, and the sound echoed like thunder.
Lightning flashed in the distance.
Jagger had landed away from her this time. He spoke from closer to her feet. “It is customary for my tribe to eat birds.”
“Good one, eejit,” she whispered to him. Tell the ginormous bird that you eat his family.
Did that mean all tribespeople went to Davy Jones? Seemed harsh. Ebba had never killed a bird, but she’d sure eaten them when they brought fowl from the markets.
“To kill my vessels is a grave offense, even if the Earth Mother deigns to protect her ‘original people,’” the god declared in a terrible voice. This time the thunder was closer.
Jagger was one of the original people? Ebba’s mouth rounded in an ‘O’ as she connected that ‘original people’ meant tribespeople.
Three bolts of lightning struck the water around the ship, bursting on impact into millions of white currents that flittered out across the water. Ebba couldn’t say much for the fish in the water, but unless the bolts hit the actual ship, the crew would be fine.
Still flat on her back, Ebba scanned the gathering black clouds above that had blotted out the afternoon sun. Her stomach clenched with foreboding.
“Fail,” the thunderbird bellowed again.
“Ye said we could throw him overboard,” Stubby said hastily.
From where he was kneeling close to the hull between three of her sprawled fathers, Caspian hissed at them, “He has to live. We need him to find the next part.”
Shite, they did need him. But that was her second thought.
The first thought was panic at the thought of Jagger leaving the ship. And that . . . surprised her. A lot.
Ebba wasn’t sure if the mean way he sometimes acted was due to the taint or because he was actually cruel. Yet she wanted to be sure his meanness wasn’t from the pillars’ power before any overboard-throwing went on. Was that why panic had surged within her at Stubby’s comment?
Sally zipped from the hull to the bow and rose higher and higher until she hovered before the god of souls.
“What is she doing?” Barrels asked from where he was hunched by Ebba’s head.
“Dancin’?” Grubby offered, the only one on his feet again.
He wasn’t that far off.
Sally’s arms waved in the air, and Ebba felt safe assuming the sprite would be squeaking up a storm. Except the thunderbird was nodding and shaking his feathered head at intervals like the dance made complete sense to him.
She sat up against the bulwark.
“He understands her,” Jagger said, shuffling closer to Ebba.
“Get away from me,” she replied out the corner of her mouth. “He’s about to kill ye.”
Sally descended back to the ship where she perched once more on Jagger’s shoulder. The sprite peeked at the pirate through her lashes and Ebba noticed a pink tinge spreading across her cheeks.
Why was Sal blushing at Jagger?
Ebba narrowed her eyes on the pair. The sprite couldn’t . . . Sally couldn’t fancy Jagger, could she? She sniggered under her breath, waving off Jagger’s inquiring glance.
The thunderbird spat, “The queen of the wind sprites assures me that the Jagger is not what he seems.”
Hold on a salty second. Queen? “What did ye just call Sally?” Ebba demanded.
Dynami’s Wrath Page 10