Plague Arcanist (Frith Chronicles Book 4)

by Shami Stovall

  The other crew members of the Sun Chaser picked up their work. Had they stopped to watch the interaction between Biyu and me? As I stared, I noticed they avoided making eye contact with me.

  “They’re skittish around arcanists,” Adelgis said. “Both of them used to work for an arcanist who was driven mad by the plague. He tortured the staff of his estate and then later killed his family because he thought they were plotting to murder him.”

  “Have you been listening to the thoughts of everyone aboard the Sun Chaser?” I asked. “That seems… inappropriate.”

  “I told you. I can’t stop anymore. I just hear everyone’s thoughts. All the time.”

  I rubbed at my upper arm, more aware than ever of the disease coursing through my veins. “Did you hear what happened to Biyu? Was it… pirates… who took her eye?”

  “Yes.”

  I gritted my teeth, but a realization settled over my thoughts a moment later. “The crew of the Sun Chaser,” I muttered. “They all have questionable or painful backgrounds, don’t they?”

  Adelgis nodded.

  The wind swept between us.

  Karna said she had been in charge of the recruiting, and now I understood. She was trying to save people by giving them new lives after losing their old one. Her offer to have me stay aboard the ship made more sense, and while I still didn’t want to, it made me appreciate the Sun Chaser more than before.

  “We should get below deck,” Adelgis said, his teeth on the verge of chattering. “I have a few ideas about where my father might be heading.”

  4

  Plan Of Action

  “What did you think of your dream?” Adelgis asked as we descended to the lower deck.

  “I was surprised how accurate you made Gravekeeper William,” I said. “It felt so… lifelike.”

  “Oh, I didn’t do that. I just manipulated the dream to recall memories of your adopted father. Your own subconscious made up his words and mannerisms, not me. I could have taken control, but I suspect I would’ve portrayed him incorrectly, and then you would’ve been angered.”

  I chuckled, amused by Adelgis’s strange power set. Somehow, everything about the man was bizarre, but I appreciated that about him. He wasn’t like anyone else I knew. Adelgis always had a different perspective, albeit odd.

  “I helped Master Zelfree when he felt depressed.” Adelgis half-smiled. “I can help with your sleep as well. What would you like to dream about? It could be anything.”

  I rubbed at the back of my neck, trying to think of pleasant dreams. I didn’t want to see Gravekeeper William every night. The heartache would be too much. Instead, I wanted something to distract me from the reality of my situation. If I had something else to think about—something other than the tainted blood pumping through my veins—I suspected I’d have an easier time going about my day.

  “Something fun,” I said as we neared the door to the storeroom. “No. I take that back.” Last time Adelgis had given me a “fun” dream, it had turned into an awkward nightmare of group dancing. “Something interesting. Something completely new and not from my memories.”

  Adelgis opened the door and walked to the nearest hammock, muttering, “New, huh?” before taking a seat on the ratty ropes of his makeshift bed.

  I returned to my hammock, my food pouch in hand. Once settled, I nibbled on the jerky and bread. They sapped the water from my mouth, leaving me with a terrible thirst. To make matters worse, the flavor bordered on sawdust mixed with grease. It impressed me that the bread and the meat could somehow have nearly the same taste and texture, but that only brought about more disturbing questions.

  The door to the storeroom creaked open and Fain slipped inside. His wendigo kept close to his legs as he shut the door, and Luthair slithered across the floor in shadow form. Fain had his own pouch of food—but he also had a bottle made of dark green glass. A beverage? I turned around in my hammock to face him.

  “Have you two explored this rig?” Fain asked, his voice low. He quickly slid into his hammock. “I think the crew is mostly women.”

  Adelgis nodded. “The vast majority.”

  “Is that common on airships?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never been on an airship before.”

  Fain relaxed and kicked off his boots. Wraith grabbed them both by the laces and moved the pair toward the wall, his tail wagging the entire time.

  “Pirate ships don’t usually take on women,” Fain muttered as he tore a piece of jerky in two. “Well, that’s not true. I’m sure most pirates would love to have women as crewmates, but there weren’t many who wanted to sail with the likes of Calisto. We did have a couple, though.”

  “Does it bother you?” I asked.

  Fain shrugged. “No. It just explains a few things, that’s all. Like why we aren’t sleeping near the rest of the crew.”

  “They housed us near the captain because the crew doesn’t trust us,” Adelgis said matter-of-factly.

  Fain snorted and laughed once. “Of course. I’m a renegade pirate, Volke’s a plague-ridden madman, and you’re some moon-faced weirdo. No one in their right mind would trust the lot of us.”

  I shot him a sideways glance.

  Fain returned it as he ripped another piece of jerky in half.

  “It’s true,” he finally said. “At least, that’s how everyone sees us.” He took a large bite of his food and cringed. With a pained expression, he forced himself to chew the meat. He swallowed long before appropriate, half-choking on the tough chunks. After patting his chest, and taking a swig from his green bottle, he managed to rasp, “What does it matter? They’re just letting us ride away from the empire, right?”

  As though prepared for the question, Adelgis withdrew a map from his satchel. It wasn’t particularly large, but the precise nature of it was apparent, even from across the room. Longitude and latitude lines marked the entire drawing, along with a legend and a line for measuring distances. Adelgis smoothed the parchment across his lap and scooted a bit closer to the lit lantern.

  “We might have to ride on this airship for an extended period of time,” Adelgis said. “I’m certain my father went to New Norra, far to the south, but he never stays there long.”

  He pointed to places on the map and then used his fingers to calculate the distance.

  “New Norra is almost three hundred miles away,” Adelgis muttered. “And if he went farther south, the next port city is more than fifty miles along the coast.”

  Fain exhaled. He handed the jerky to Wraith, and his wendigo gobbled it down without even tasting it.

  “It still won’t matter if the crew trusts us,” Fain said. “If we keep to this room, I’m sure the trek to New Norra will be pleasant enough.”

  Adelgis shook his head. “I don’t think you understand. The doppelgänger arcanist, Karna, said the captain would take us to New Norra, but she didn’t guarantee anything else. My father probably stopped there, but he always moves on, which means we’ll have to investigate and then travel to another city, perhaps several. If the crew of the Sun Chaser wants us gone—because they think we’re weirdos, madmen, and pirates, as you put it—they’ll abandon us as soon as possible, and we’ll be stuck with slower means of transportation.”

  Fain glanced between Adelgis and me, a frown setting in. Then he ran his hand down his face, his frostbitten fingers contrasting harshly with the tan of his skin. “Damn. We’re definitely gonna get kicked off.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked. “People generally like Adelgis. He’s kind, pleasant, and he’s the son of a famous researcher. I think the crew will get along with him.”

  Fain narrowed his eyes into a sarcastic glare. “Are you serious? Earlier today our friend, Moonbeam—” he jutted his thumb at Adelgis, “—told the crew he wanted to see what happened if they all asphyxiated to death.”

  “What?” I gasped.

  Adelgis rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t that dramatic.”

  “Some deckhand asked Adelgis about his eldrin
,” Fain said. “He told her it was an ethereal whelk, and the woman asked where they came from. Moonbeam said ethereal whelks are born from the corpses of children who drowned. That’s when he followed it up with, I wonder what would happen if the crew of this airship asphyxiated to death.”

  “I’m genuinely curious,” Adelgis stated as he waved his hands around, flustered. “Maybe a new type of mystical creature would be born. We don’t have much research on airships.”

  Fain lifted both eyebrows. Then he turned to me with an I told you so stare. “I’m not an expert on charisma, but even I know that won’t ingratiate us to anyone. We might not make it to New Norra.”

  “Wait a moment,” Adelgis interjected. “Volke is usually well-regarded. He looks normal. Mostly normal. And people like him. Well, after they get to know him.”

  “He’s not himself right now,” Fain said. “And I don’t think we should push him to do anything other than rest.”

  “Because you’re afraid Volke might become violent or deranged.”

  Fain gritted his teeth. “Let’s just stop talking about it in front of him.”

  “You’re the one who said he was a plague-ridden madman. I’m just elaborating.”

  “Stop,” I said, holding up a hand. “It’s okay. I’d rather we not hide the fact that I’m carrying the plague. I don’t mind if you discuss it.”

  Shadows under my hammock moved with life and purpose. “My arcanist,” Luthair said. “As much as I admire your truthful nature, this is one fact I think you should omit whenever possible.”

  I laced my fingers together and then unlaced them, filled with a fidgety energy as I mulled over the comment. I didn’t want to trick anyone—being straightforward and open about the situation seemed like the right course of action.

  “There are guilds who hunt plague-ridden arcanists,” Fain said. “You know about the Steel Thorn Inquisitors Guild. And the Huntsman Guild. They’re the most famous, but there are plenty of others. If word gets out about what you are…”

  Adelgis traced the outer edge of his map with the tips of his fingers. “I suppose that would be troublesome.”

  The conversation died. Silence settled between us. Even the ship seemed to stop creaking as we hit a stream of gentle breeze.

  Determined not to dwell on the subject, I tried to recall what we had been talking about before the argument.

  The city of New Norra…

  Although I had heard of the city from tales I had read as a kid, the truth of the matter was that I didn’t know much beyond the border of my island nation. The farther south we traveled, the more foreign the world would become. Normally, I’d be excited for the adventure, but circumstances were dire. Theasin Venrover, Adelgis’s father, was the only man I knew who could help me cure the plague, and the longer it took to reach him, the less time I had to deal with the problem.

  What if Theasin could create a cure, but it required material from halfway around the world? That wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. We had to find him soon, and if the Sun Chaser was the fastest mode of transportation, we couldn’t agitate our hosts.

  “Why did your father go to New Norra?” I asked.

  Adelgis held up the map and pointed. “Do you see this coast?”

  He pointed to the southern edge of the Argo Empire. It stretched west for a considerable distance and then turned southward. According the legend, the farther south the coast went, the more it became a desert. The Amber Dunes—as the map referred to it—seemed barren. While several dots representing cities marked the rest of the map, the Amber Dunes had three. The largest dot, positioned halfway down the coast, was New Norra.

  “This is the only port if you want to continue south,” Adelgis said. “It’s gigantic, and it has the largest bazaar I’ve ever seen in my life.” He lowered his voice as he continued, “There are no laws about what you can buy or sell here, so my father frequents the place for unusual mystical creature parts.”

  “Like Port Crown?” Fain asked.

  Adelgis replied with a nod. “Only with fewer pirates.”

  “But there are still some pirates?”

  “It’s a free port,” Adelgis said, blasé and uncaring. “Pirates frequent the city quite often.”

  Fain paled a bit. He stared up at the ceiling, his brow hard-set.

  “You don’t think we’ll run into someone like the Dread Pirate Calisto, right?” I asked Adelgis. “He sails up north.”

  “I hope not,” Adelgis said. “But there’s a real possibility.”

  For the moment, it seemed as though we would have to navigate dangerous waters. But even if we had to face pirates, explore unknown cities, and gain the trust of an airship crew—at least we had a plan. One way or another, we’d make it to Theasin and find a cure for this arcane plague.

  At least, that was what I told myself.

  The wooden boards beyond our door creaked.

  We all looked up, even Wraith, his wolf-like ears erect.

  The soft sound of boots echoed quietly in the hall, as though someone was trying their hand at stealth, but every other step was too hard to keep hidden.

  “Who’s that?” Fain asked.

  “Probably the same girl who threatened me earlier,” I quipped.

  Fain shot me a questioning look, but before I could answer, Adelgis cleared his throat.

  “No. The person in the hall wasn’t a woman. It was the blacksmith.” Adelgis forced a half-smile. “He’s come looking for you, Volke. And I think your conversation with him will determine whether we stay on the airship for any length of time.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked.

  “Well…” Adelgis folded his map and placed it back in his satchel, taking due care to tuck it in between the pages of his book. “I think it would be best if the blacksmith explained everything.”

  I didn’t know why, but his flippant answer irritated me. I didn’t need surprises, not at this point in my life, and if it was important to staying on the airship, I needed all the information I could get before having a serious discussion.

  “Just tell me,” I said, barely holding back my anger. “Now isn’t the time to be obtuse.”

  Adelgis stared at me with a neutral, almost callous, expression. “Very well. The blacksmith came to speak with you because he’s your father.”

  5

  A Murder Of Crows

  My first thought was of Gravekeeper William, but my gut knew that wasn’t who Adelgis meant.

  When was the last time I had seen my father? On my fifth birthday, nearly twelve years ago. I hadn’t spent the occasion celebrating or socializing with family—I had spent the day watching my father’s murder trial. He hadn’t been born on the Isle of Ruma, so they had sent him to the mainland for final judgment. I had never found out what had happened to him, and now Adelgis was telling me he was the blacksmith aboard an airship?

  “My arcanist?” Luthair asked from the shadows.

  I shook away my thoughts. “Yes?”

  “You became quiet. I’m concerned about your wellbeing.”

  “I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”

  Fain swung his legs off the side of his hammock. “Do you have a bad history with your father?”

  “No,” I muttered. “I don’t have much of a history at all.”

  The airship creaked as a strong gust of wind whipped past.

  No one said anything, and I suspected they were waiting for me to make a decision. Did I even want to meet my father after all this time? What if he was just a blackheart, like they said in his trial? They made him out to be a cutthroat—someone who came to the Isle of Ruma to steal phoenix chicks.

  But that was so long ago…

  I could barely remember what had happened. I never enjoyed recalling the memories, so I pushed them from my mind whenever they surfaced.

  “Your father wanted to talk to you,” Adelgis said, dragging me out of my thoughts. “But he struggled with the words, and he’s afraid of how you’ll react.”

&n
bsp; Wraith swished his wolf-like tail from side to side. “If you haven’t much of a history, what’s the harm in speaking with him? I think you should.”

  “Perhaps it’s best if you just ignore this,” Luthair said. “You don’t need any undue stress.”

  “Well, I agree with Wraith.” Fain got off his hammock and walked around the crates until he was closer to my corner. “Family is important. You should speak to him.”

  Family.

  Illia and Gravekeeper William were my family.

  But perhaps Fain felt jealous. He had no family to speak of, not even an adopted one, yet here I had two. Squandering this opportunity would probably seem like a mistake to him. And I somewhat agreed. When I had been younger, I’d had a million questions for my father—now I could have resolution.

  “Adelgis,” I said. “Where can I find my father?”

  “His quarters are next to the captain’s. Down the hall and then turn left at the stairs.”

  “Thank you.”

  I stood and headed for the door. Luthair followed me as a shadow at my feet, offering no further advice on the subject.

  Adelgis, Wraith, and Fain said nothing as I exited the storeroom. I walked the long hall to the captain’s quarters, my head buzzing. Although I knew I was about to speak to my father, I wasn’t sure what I would ask. I hadn’t expected to see him—ever. A piece of me had written him off as dead, or at least so far gone that we’d never meet again.

  I took the left turn and walked a narrow hall with three doors. One was labeled Boatswain, another had the word Quartermaster, and the last had nothing. The unlabeled door was the only one with light shining out from under it, and when I listened hard enough, I heard someone pacing, every second step heavy, as though the person’s gait were uneven.

  “Should I wait in the corridor, my arcanist?” Luthair whispered.