by Emma Miles
‘It should be Kesta,’ Heara muttered.
‘Well, we don’t know where she is so we can’t call her back.’ Dia scowled. Concern crept into her heart. She couldn’t begrudge her daughter leaving the Fulmers, yet her absence did leave a hole in their small community. With Larissa gone too, the small number of walkers seemed to have shrunk and no woman had developed magical ability in nearly two years. ‘Listen, I know it’s a risk me going to the Borrows, but it’s a way to ensure the future security of our islands.’
‘Unless it’s a trap,’ Arrus growled.
‘Considering how much the Borrows have been decimated, I don’t think they’d risk the lives of all those we have here as hostages, even if they are all from different clans.’ Dia looked up at the trees, at the sunlight breaking through the dark-green leaves of summer. ‘It will also give me a chance to learn more of the culture of the Borrows and their enigmatic bard. Not to mention the fact that if I do find a way to counter this blood curse, it will be a huge win for us all. I don’t imagine Chem would sit back for years to come not considering some kind of revenge. And from what we learned from their attempted conquest, stealing walkers might very well be first on their list for rebuilding their power.’
‘How do you know Temerran isn’t planning to sell you to Chem and make a vast fortune?’ Arrus demanded.
‘Jorrun seemed to think we had defeated any Chemman who could beat me.’ She bit at her thumbnail. Her husband’s words had unsettled her more than she wanted to let on. ‘I’m going to try.’
‘Well I’m coming with you on this occasion.’ Arrus prodded her in the chest with one finger. ‘No arguments! Chieftain Ufgard can take care of the Fulmers for the few days we are away.’
‘Agreed.’ Dia nodded.
Arrus took a step back and glanced at Heara. ‘Really?’
Dia laughed. ‘Yes, Arrus, really. This will be an important and historic voyage for the Fulmers even if I fail to lift the curse. When we get back, though, we really must elect at least one new Silene.’
‘Just one?’ Heara raised an eyebrow.
‘I hope to recall poor Worvig soon.’ She sighed. ‘We received a curt note from him saying he’s had enough of Taurmaline. I’m thinking of sending Dorthai and another more experienced warrior to replace him now Larissa is settled.’
‘Marlit would be my suggestion.’ Arrus scratched at his beard.
Dia nodded, but her gaze was back up on the slowly moving leaves.
***
Dia rolled her shoulders and stretched her back, reaching out to grab for an inkwell that slid across the table. She glanced out of the cabin window and saw the horizon tilt first one way, then the other. With a sigh she placed a feather inside the pages and closed the book. It had been hard to read, not because of the unfamiliar words and strange sentence structure, but because of its content. Whoever had written this book on magic thought nothing of slaughtering people or animals to gain the required blood for a spell. To them blood was just a resource and its source no different than a candle or an herb. Thus far she hadn’t found a single mention of the aftermath of a spell, of any residual effect. She couldn’t believe the Chemman sorcerers were unaware such a thing occurred; although it was possible the writer of this book had never experienced death and spell casting on the scale of that used in the Borrows.
She pulled out the letter again that Rosa had sent, the words now so familiar she knew them by heart.
I’ve had no word from Kesta, I can only hope that she and Jorrun are safe. I hope this book is of use? Please try to return it, I’m sure the Thane will be furious if he finds it gone.
The wind blew a sudden flurry of rain against the window and she jumped at the sound. The summer storm had hit them at midday and showed no sign of letting them go. As comfortable as she was out at sea, even she’d begun to feel a little queasy. The door opened, banging against the wall as the ship tilted and Arrus came stomping in, water streaming from his long hair and beard.
‘We’ve sighted the Borrows.’ He wiped at his face with his hand and then grabbed for a towel, feet planted wide apart. He made the cabin feel tiny. ‘Temerran’s ship has signalled that we turn and let the storm take us west a little.’
The Borrowman Bard had offered to travel with them on their ship as a kind of hostage, but Dia had declined. She didn’t feel happy having his strange magic on-board.
‘What’s Heara up to?’ she asked.
Arrus closed his eyes and breathed out loudly. ‘She’s up in the crow’s nest.’
Dia shot to her feet. ‘She didn’t take Catya up there, did she?’
Arrus’ eyes widened. ‘Spirits, no! I made sure the girl tied a line about herself and kept her feet firmly on the deck. I’ll tell you something, Dia, it’s as well your friend doesn’t have daughters, they’d be more formidable than a whole Chemman army!’
‘Arrus, what would you think of making Heara a Silene?’
‘Seriously?’ He pulled out a chair and sat himself down, a puddle forming on the planks beneath him. ‘There is no one better at what she does.’
‘But?’
‘But since Shaherra’s death she has become somewhat reckless.’
Dia leaned back in her chair and gazed up at the ceiling. ‘There’s a lot of anger in her and she’s finding ways to channel it. Relatively healthy ways when all is said and done. She seems to have naturally slipped into the space left by Kesta, except she’s no walker. When Larissa comes back from Elden, it’s almost certain she will become both a Silene and the elected Icante heir.’ Arrus opened his mouth to protest but Dia sat forward and stopped him. ‘Kesta has chosen another life and we should be happy for her. I’ll appoint Heara as acting Silene until Worvig returns and see how it goes.’
Arrus hunched in his chair, nodding without looking at her.
Dia gave a loud sigh and turned around in her chair. ‘I’d better finish this awful book if we’re nearly there.’
***
They anchored just beyond a small cove in the rugged island and both ships sent out a small boat toward the shore. Dia raised a hand to shield her eyes against the rain, the wind thankfully warm as it tugged at her clothing and hair. The cliffs were dark and jagged, several rocks spilling into the sea and making their approach dangerous. Arrus had wisely got his warriors to hold back and follow the Borrow boat in, letting them test for a safe channel. Dia grabbed at the side of the boat as they were lifted by the breakers. Her eyes scanned the island. There were a few deep-water birds off shore, but she could see nothing among the low, prickly bushes or the wind-shaped trees.
Arrus and three of the other warriors jumped out of the boat to drag them further up the beach. Catya stood up and Arrus lifted her off her feet, putting her down on the sand. Dia placed a hand on Catya’s shoulder to keep her balance and climbed down beside her. Heara was already further up the beach, scanning the cliffs and checking the sand for tracks. Seeing what she was doing, Catya quickly copied.
‘This is Samphire Island,’ Temerran said as he made his way slowly across to them. His warriors had fanned out to form a protective ring.
‘Expecting trouble?’ Dia tilted her head.
‘It’s always wise to be cautious in the Borrows, even for the Bard.’ He looked down at the sand with a deep frown on his face. ‘This was where the Chemmen attacked first. Samphire had the largest population and the most warriors. I thought perhaps that if this is the place where the blood magic started …’
‘It’s as good a place as any to try.’ Dia wiped the rain from her face with her hand.
‘There’s a small copse just up the path here where we’ll have more shelter.’
The hairs on Dia’s arms prickled and the nausea of apprehension crawled in her stomach. She turned to look at Heara.
‘Seems clear.’ Heara nodded.
‘Your men stay on the beach.’ Dia looked at the Bard unblinking.
‘Very well,’ he agreed at once. One of his men went to protest but he ra
ised a hand to silence him. ‘It’s this way.’
They trudged through the wet, sliding sand, and followed the narrow gully of a stream further inland. Bushes and small trees formed an arched roof above their heads. Temerran turned off the path and climbed up a steep slope to a hazel grove from the edge of which they could look back toward the beach and see their two ships. Her own Fulmer ship looked old and rustic compared to the Bard’s well-built vessel. Heara and one of the other warriors made a search of the area, Catya remained close at Arrus’s side.
‘Do you feel it?’ Temerran asked, his green eyes wide.
‘I haven’t opened up my magic yet,’ she admitted. ‘What do you feel?’
He leaned back against a tree, placing one hand flat against the bark. ‘It feels like something is buzzing inside my skull so that nothing sounds quite right. Tones are flat. Sounds deadened.’
Dia looked away, glancing at Arrus before calling magic through her blood. She opened her knowing. She was struck by cold that went through to her bones and a metallic, iron taste lay like poison on her tongue. The feel of the lives around her was dulled, their emotions sharp but without depth, like the jab of needles.
She drew in a sharp breath as realisation struck her. Raising a hand, she agitated the air to call fire to her fingertips. Small flames danced there, without brightness, without heat.
‘What is it?’ Temerran asked, pushing himself away from the tree.
‘It steals life from our magic as well as the land.’ She let the flames die out.
‘You’re right.’ Temerran rubbed at his face with his fingers. ‘How can we use that?’
‘I’m not sure if we can. I’ve been reading about their methods, they use blood in Chem to strengthen magic, there is something in blood that gives strength to a magic user, increases their power. They killed hundreds here and used their blood both in making their spells to control the dead, and to increase their own power so they could control more. They took a huge amount of magic from the land.’
‘You think that’s what this ‘stain’ is? That the magic has been sucked from the elements of this land?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s a theory. And, of course, death itself leaves a mark for those sensitive enough to feel it. This could be a combination of after effects.’
‘It makes sense.’ Temerran clenched his fists. ‘But is there anything we can do?’
Dia wrapped her arms around herself, suppressing a shiver. ‘I wonder if our using magic would make things worse or be ineffectual at best; especially as we don’t know what we’re doing. I still think time will be our best option, let the land heal itself, but a part of me deeply desires to fight it.’
Temerran’s jaw moved as he gritted his teeth. ‘Then you understand me.’
‘How can you fight something that isn’t solid, that you can’t see?’ Arrus asked.
Dia opened her mouth to reply and her intuition prickled again. ‘Walkers do so all the time, when we use our knowing, when we change how people feel. You asked if I could change the feel of the land and I said no, but I wonder if I was wrong. Perhaps even the small lives, the plants, even the stone, could retain a vibration of life and goodness, even as they now sound out the opposite. There is little magic left on the Borrows for us to use, but …’ She spun about to face Temerran. ‘Doroquael said the fire-spirits cannot come here because the Borrows belongs to the sea-spirits. They called you back here, is your relationship with them good?’
‘It’s tempestuous, as it is between them and all mortals.’
‘Take me to them.’
‘Dia!’ Heara moved toward her, her hand on her dagger hilt.
Dia raised her hand. ‘This will be done.’
Temerran led them back toward the beach and Dia caught him glancing at her several times. Eventually he held her gaze, holding a branch back out of her way.
‘Sea-spirits are not fire-spirits,’ he said. ‘They can be cruel.’
‘Yet they travelled many miles to warn you of what had happened in the Borrows.’ Dia frowned. ‘They must care.’
‘I’m not sure it’s caring as such.’ Temerran winced. ‘Have you ever seen an orca, what you call a magpie whale, or a cat playing with its prey?’
Dia nodded.
‘It’s closer to that. Their interest in humans is seldom benevolent. As a bard I possess a certain … influence over them. I cannot calm a real storm but I can a sea-spirit. They were not pleased at me leaving the Borrows and they no doubt saw this as an opportunity to lure me back.’
Dia felt dread creeping under her skin. This might be a bigger risk than she’d anticipated. When they reached the point where the stream met the beach, Temerran halted and looked around at them all.
‘It would be best if it was just me and the Icante,’ he said.
‘Yeah, right.’ Heara narrowed her eyes and put her hand on the hilt of her short sword. ‘That ain’t happening.’
Dia turned her head to hide her smile. ‘Heara will come too.’
Arrus quickly placed a hand on Catya’s shoulder and the girl scowled.
‘Very well.’ Temerran nodded.
He stepped out onto the beach and gestured for his men to stay back. Instead of heading directly toward the water, he turned to his right and clambered up onto the pitted rocks. The smaller ones were sharp with limpets and slippery with seaweed. He stepped up onto the higher rocks that stood above the level of the highest tide, holding his hand out to assist Dia. His fingers were warm and rough and he smelt strangely like the petrichor of rainfall. When they’d reached the furthest rock out in the sea, Temerran turned to warn the two women. ‘Be wary.’
The Bard turned back toward the sea and closed his eyes, standing completely still. Dia could see his chest rise and fall as he breathed in deeply and through her knowing she felt him put himself into a meditative calm. Heara positioned herself so she could watch their backs and see what was happening on the beach.
Dia drew in a sharp breath when Temerran began to sing, his notes had the purity of a morning songbird although deeper in tone, reaching beyond her ears to her soul. She tried to catch the words but quickly realised they were in a tongue she’d never heard before. Dia felt the presence of the sea-spirits before she saw any sign of them, so different to fire-spirits, somehow deeper, slippery, strangely solid. A wave peaked and didn’t subside, instead forming into the shape of a woman with hair of constantly streaming water.
‘Why have you brought these creatures of fire before us, Bard?’ Its voice rose and fell in a breathy rush.
‘Spirit, you called me back here and I’ve come.’ Temerran opened his green eyes. ‘But the land on which we live is damaged by the blood magic of men. I cannot repair it. This fire queen has come to help.’
Dia tried not to feel flattered by the compliment his words so blatantly evoked. She bowed her head politely, but without subservience. ‘Powerful spirit, I’m honoured to be in your presence.’
The spirit rushed upward to tower above them. Dia’s eyes widened and she held her breath, but she took her cue from the Borrowman and didn’t so much as flinch. Heara took one step back, her fingers twitching although she refrained from reaching for her weapons.
‘The whales sing of you.’ The spirit rippled, the sunlight shining through its opaque skin. ‘That is the only reason I will hear your words.’
Dia bowed again, conceding nothing. ‘The necromancers drained the life, the magic, from these islands to cast their spells and left the chill stain of death. I may be able to lift the ill feeling with help from Temerran, but there is not enough magic in me, or for me to channel, and stealing what there is would make things worse. Are you able to give us magic from the sea? Can you give Temerran power?’
The sea-spirit darkened and Dia could feel its wrath. Waves surged against the rock and she couldn’t help but raise her arms to shield herself against the briny spray. ‘We care not for the land! Where is your strength gone, Bard? You are a people of the sea, live on the sea,
raid, fight, you don’t need these soft fire-people! Be the storm, Bard!’
Dia laughed and both Temerran and the sea-spirit turned to stare at her.
‘You are mistaken spirit. I am the storm.’ She drew up all the power she had within her and reached for as much as she could around her. It took a huge amount of effort and pain seemed to split her skull in two. Even so she called a tornado to shield herself, both Heara and Temerran having to jump back onto another rock. The sea-spirit shrieked as Dia heated the water and steam rose rapidly to form the anvil shape of a thunderhead.
‘I have wrecked ships too, spirit!’ Lightning lit the dark cloud above her from within.
‘You can’t kill me!’ The sea churned against Dia’s wind shield.
Dia let her fire subside and she smiled sadly. ‘Neither would I want to, spirit, but the fates of your Bard, of your chosen people, are in my hands.’ Lightning struck the side of the rock on which Temerran stood. ‘I want to help them. I don’t even ask for anything in return. We are creatures of the land, spirit, we need the land to live and no demands on your part will change that. Help me heal at least one island of the Borrows so your people can thrive again and grow strong.’ She realised Temerran was singing again, quietly, his words barely perceptible. The sea around her began to settle to a rhythmic shushing as though it breathed. She dropped her shield, the thunderhead began to drift away with the wind, grumbling as it went.
The spirit sank back toward the water. ‘Only once,’ it sulked. ‘But the Bard must never leave these seas again.’
Dia saw the pain that crossed Temerran’s face, but he bowed his head and nodded. ‘Agreed.’
‘Then lend me the magic of the sea, spirit.’ She held out a hand toward it, palm upward and then turned to the Borrowman. ‘Sing, Temerran. Sing to me of life.’
She felt the spirit’s icy fingers touch her palm and then melt into her skin. Its power hurt, as though water were being forced through her veins, but she drew it in anyway, calling up her knowing. Temerran’s voice rose, echoing in every crevice of the cliffs, making the muscles inside her chest tingle, filling her heart with emotion that spilled out from her eyes. She gave in to it, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back, her knowing flowing out to touch everything that lived, burrowing into the earth, vibrating the stone, pulsing through the twisted, stunted trees and imprinting into the rocky soul of the island.