Wielder's Prize

by Elle Cardy

  “I’m not surprised, because you do have a talisman. It was taken from you.”

  She ran through a list of things she’d lost. She’d owned so little that it was a short list. The figurines Brusan had made her, her original dagger she used for peeling and slicing vegetables, a cup, a spoon and a bowl. None of them seemed very talisman-like.

  Marcelo already knew the worst of her secrets — that Kahld was her father — so what did it matter if she told him another?

  “I have to make a confession,” she said, swallowing extra spit that had formed.

  “Do you now?” He patiently waited for her to go on.

  “I’m an untrained wielder. You are also mistaken. I don’t have, and never have had, a talisman.”

  His smile returned. This time it was soft, as a grandfather might give his grandchild. “You are not untrained and you do have a talisman.”

  “What?” Infuriate did seem like a good word.

  “You are not untrained—”

  “I heard you.”

  “But you don’t believe me?”

  She didn’t want to answer because she wasn’t about to call a powerful wielder a liar.

  Marcelo chuckled. “You’re a little undisciplined but you are definitely trained. The captain must have trained you.”

  She shook her head. “He didn’t know I was a wielder until recently.”

  “One doesn’t have to train knowingly. It’s a poor method, but children absorb what they observe.”

  “Fine. What makes you think I have a talisman?”

  The blueness in his eyes seemed to glow brighter in the dying light around them. “Because you would not have survived this long without one.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I love the irony,” he said. “Your prize is the Prize. Your talisman is the Wielder’s Prize.”

  She blanched. “The whole ship?”

  “Why do you think you want it back so badly?”

  At once she knew he spoke the truth. The power was in her ship, in the sea-soaked timbers, in the salt encrusted rigging, in the expanse of sails, in every nail, every knot, every seal. This was why her ship spoke to her. This was why she felt at home there. They were one.

  “Oh,” she breathed.

  Marcelo stood, grabbed the bucket of mussels and scrambled to the top of a higher rock. Before she could wonder why, a wave crashed through and threatened to sweep her off her feet. She would have lost her footing but for a force that cradled her with a light touch and steadied her balance. She looked up to see Marcelo wielding. The wave pulled away, leaving her soaking wet and shivering in the cold.

  “Thanks,” she said. “You could’ve warned me.”

  “Not enough time,” he said sheepishly. “We’d best get back to the others before the incoming tide cuts us off.”

  “Aye.” She squeezed seawater out of her dripping shirt.

  Marcelo stopped midway to the cave. “I must warn you,” he said, oblivious of her chattering teeth. “Keep the truth about your true father to yourself for the rest of your days. Don’t even tell Finn regardless of how much you think you can trust him.”

  “I can’t trust him?”

  “You can trust him. Just not on this matter.”

  “What of Brusan? He knows the truth.”

  “Yes, Brusan.” Marcelo seemed to mentally disappear to somewhere else for a moment. He wielded but she couldn’t tell what he did. When he came back he seemed surprised. “Most of the original crew of the Prize know Kahld is your father.”

  Jasmine felt her mouth go agape.

  “Anyone who was there when your mother aband — erm, gave you up to the captain. Fascinating. They’ve all adopted you as one of their own. They’ve kept the secret this long. They will continue to do so.”

  *

  That night Jasmine had a lot to think about. She couldn’t sleep so she lay in the dark and listened to Brusan’s snores and Marcelo’s low murmur. The light of a half moon shone through the window and rested on the woolen rug. Marcelo’s form shifted beneath the window. Dreams kept his sleep restless. Demons seemed to chase him.

  Jasmine rose from her pallet and padded across the floor to where Marcelo slept. She was surprised to find him wielding in his sleep. It was a different kind of weave she’d ever seen before. The pattern of it was so complex she had difficulty following it. She sensed danger there. It shimmered in the room like ash falling from a burning ship. Instinct told her to back away but she feared for Marcelo. He was the one person who knew all her secrets. She had nothing left to hide from him and yet his reactions toward her hadn’t changed. He didn’t judge her. He wasn’t afraid of her. And he didn’t try to kill her. Yes, there was danger, but she had to do something to help him. He needed to find peace in his dreams. If she just held his hand while he slept she might be able to lend him comfort.

  Gently she took the hand lying above the covers and felt warmth in his palm. Marcelo woke the moment she touched him. It was too late. His power caught her in a trap she couldn’t escape.

  Chapter 29

  As if from a great distance, someone hollered Jasmine’s name. Not Midge, but her real name. “Jasmine!” they cried. “Jasmine!” they implored. They called it out as if the sound of her name might catch her fall. Her name was a thread that dangled just beyond her reach. It was a lifeline to a reality she’d forgotten, a past that fled long ago. Power twined through her and weaved a new pattern, a different tapestry made of fire and ice. It enveloped her and dragged her down. She felt herself falling. Falling through cloud, through mist, through water, through darkness. Then she was standing. She stood on sand that felt soft beneath her feet. She looked out to sea and squinted against the brightness. The shore embraced the waves.

  Something sharp tugged at her attention. She turned and witnessed a crowd of people. A tall man stood in their center. Blood stained his navy-blue jacket. His black beard remained unkempt, his hair blew loose from its bonds. She recognized this man by his emerald eyes. This was her father. This was her captain.

  Someone he faced in the crowd made him afraid. She wondered who could scare such a man. She peered through the crowd and saw a woman. She was almost as tall as the captain, but she seemed smaller, more delicate. Her dark hair, not long enough to tie back, blew in the wind. Her eyes were the color of storms. She dressed herself like a man, but there seemed nothing manly about her.

  Something frightened this woman, and something also angered her. Power swirled around her like a living thing. It shone like a beacon to anyone with the eyes to see. Then she vanished and the power vanished with her. The captain lifted his arm as if he reached for something. The woman reappeared. The captain had caught her by the throat. Triumph registered in his eyes, in his posture, in his whole being. Jasmine thought the captain would crush the woman’s throat. Instead he wielded. She recognized that pattern. She’d seen that focused power before. It was the same pattern that had killed Angelica, the same one that ended Langer and Brill. The captain intended to silence the woman.

  Jasmine gasped from her vantage point. She cried out but the wind snatched her voice away. She ran into the crowd and swung at the captain. Her arm went through him as if he were made of smoke. He wasn’t the one who was the ghost. It was her. A feeling of helplessness welled up inside her. She could see every line of anguish in the woman’s features. She could see every point of terror and pain. Worse, she could see the captain’s delight, his joy and exuberance. His exaltation. The woman screamed. Her expression emptied. The captain let her go and she crumpled into the sand like a lifeless ragdoll. She didn’t move. The captain had killed her.

  Shock registered on every face there but the captain’s. A young man ran forward and landed on his knees at the woman’s body. He held her hand to his chest and rocked back and forth. Unrestrained tears ran down his face. He repeated a name over and over like a chant as if he hoped to bring back the dead. No one had that power. Not even the c
aptain.

  Kahld bent and grabbed a clump of the young man’s brown hair. He pulled him away from the woman’s body and held the blade of his dagger to the man’s exposed throat. The captain shouted words to an older man in the crowd. Jasmine recognized Marcelo. His thin white hair whipped around in the wind like long grass on a hilltop. His striking blue eyes squinted against the sand kicked up by a gust. The only indication of any emotion was a slight tightening of his lips. Apart from that, he came across as involved as a scholar gathering data on an experiment.

  “You know why I am here, old man,” Kahld cried above the sound of the gathering wind. “Will you give me what I want or will you let Finn die?”

  The blade of the dagger cut into Finn’s neck. He didn’t react and didn’t fight the captain. He looked down at the woman’s body and his shoulders slumped.

  “It’s interesting you think threatening Finn’s life would sway me,” Marcelo called back.

  “Yet you knew I would.”

  Marcelo smiled. “Indeed.”

  The captain glanced at a golden-haired man who stood behind Marcelo. The blond man’s eyes were round and frightened. His hands, hanging limp at his sides, trembled. The captain turned his attention back to Marcelo.

  “So you wouldn’t care if I killed your precious student?”

  “Of course I’d care. What kind of man do you think I am?”

  The captain grinned. A dark light glimmered in his eyes. “You could, of course, prevent it.”

  “I’m an old man. How could I prevent anything you chose to do?”

  Kahld’s expression changed. It creased in an ugly show of anger. “Don’t lie to me, old man.” The captain wielded. Jasmine immediately thought of a heady scent of spices, even though all she could smell was a storm on the wind and the salt in the sea.

  “Fascinating,” Marcelo said. “You think you can gain all my secrets through a little wielding? Your truth-telling power won’t work on me.”

  Power whipped from the captain and knocked Marcelo from his feet. He landed on his back with a loud huff and rolled to his side. Never before did he look so aged and fragile as he did lying in the sand.

  “Give me what I want or I will kill Finn.”

  Marcelo staggered to his feet with the blond man’s help. “Then you must kill Finn, because I will never give you what you want.”

  Captain Kahld roared with anger. Finn stirred as if he woke from a dream. He blinked once and then he wielded. He seized the captain’s dagger and twisted it away from his throat, toward the captain. With strength augmented by his power, he pushed the blade up against the captain’s ribs. Kahld gasped. It wasn’t a fatal wound, but it would’ve hurt. Finn’s power weakened. He rocked back on his heels in weakness. The captain caught him and spun him around. The captain’s power surged and lanced through Finn. Finn opened his mouth but no sound came out. He couldn’t break free from Kahld’s hold. He couldn’t scream. Jasmine cried out his name. He couldn’t hear her. There was nothing she could do but watch as the captain silenced him. Finn fell face first into the sand and didn’t move.

  Jasmine screamed. She ran to him but couldn’t touch him. She couldn’t roll him over. She couldn’t wield. She couldn’t save him. She couldn’t avenge his murder. Hot, painful tears burned her eyes and rolled down her face. They tasted of the sea and of anguish.

  This was not meant to be. This could not happen!

  Darkness enveloped Jasmine, deep and thick and frightening. She screamed. This time she screamed for herself. She clawed against the darkness. Hands grabbed her. She was no longer a ghost. She struggled against the touch.

  Calm.

  The word echoed through her like a chime in a storm. Peace settled over her. There was no resisting it. She sighed into the ripples of harmony that floated around her. Chaos fled. She felt cradled and warm.

  “Jasmine?”

  “Let her wake on her own.”

  She opened her eyes. Two faces stared down at her. Recognition slowly came. Marcelo and Brusan. Brusan’s face lit up in a smile of relief. She couldn’t read Marcelo’s expression. The way his brow furrowed made her think he was either angry or afraid. She couldn’t tell which. She wondered where Aurelius was and found him staring at her from across the other side of the fire. He stood in a pool of moonlight, his face in shadow.

  “What happened, Jasmine?” Marcelo asked.

  At the sound of her true name, she turned back to Marcelo. Memory of what had happened drained from her as if from a dream. She was left with the feeling that she should remember something important but she couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried.

  “I had a dream,” she said. “A bad dream, I think.”

  “You must have walked in your sleep,” Brusan said. “We found you on the floor by Marcelo’s bed.”

  “I…no, wait,” she said as she tried to pull everything together. “I woke. Marcelo was having a nightmare. I thought I could take away the terror… I can’t remember.” She rubbed her forehead and found it wet with sweat. She must look terrible. She moved to sit up but Marcelo protested.

  “No, no, you stay where you are. Let yourself recover.”

  Jasmine frowned at him. “You know what happened.”

  Marcelo coughed. “You picked up on one of my visions.”

  Aurelius sucked in his breath.

  “Oh please, Aurelius,” Marcelo scolded. “It’s been known to happen.”

  “To only the most powerful wielders.”

  “Midge is no more powerful than you are. It was just unlucky.” Marcelo squeezed her hand.

  Jasmine tried not to react to the lie. They both knew she was more powerful, but that was not what bothered her. What bothered her was that Marcelo claimed it was bad luck. He didn’t believe his own statement. Did he do this to her on purpose?

  Memory flooded through her like a tidal wave that threatened to dislodge her sanity. She remembered the beach, the coming storm, the crowd. She remembered the vision of Captain Kahld as he killed the woman. She knew now the woman was her. The captain was going to kill her. She felt the blood drain from her face as she remembered the vision of the captain killing Finn.

  “Jasmine, what’s wrong?” Brusan said.

  She stared at Marcelo. “You let him kill Finn.”

  “Fascinating,” Marcelo said. “Of all the visions you could have seen, you saw that one.”

  “What do you mean? It wasn’t the same one you were having?” Jasmine struggled to sit up, despite his warning. Brusan gave her the help she needed as a wave of dizziness threatened to overtake her.

  “We can discuss the particulars later. What else did you see? I always have such a hard time seeing anything to do with you.”

  The dizziness passed. “What does it matter what else I saw? You killed Finn!”

  “You just said I let him kill Finn. I assume by ‘him’ you mean Kahld. That’s not the same thing.”

  “Allowing something to happen is just as bad as doing it yourself.”

  “You sound like my mother,” Marcelo said.

  “How can you joke?”

  “What else did you see?”

  “I saw the captain silence me and then he silenced Finn. That’s all.”

  “Jasmine!” Brusan knew enough about wielders now to know what silencing meant. He saw the captain silence the wielders from the Wild Rose. He saw their agony and fear before they died.

  “Fascinating,” Marcelo said.

  “Stop saying that.”

  “I’m sorry but this is fascinating. I’ve never been able to see any vision beyond my death. Even the events of my own death are shrouded. But you. You not only saw your death, but events that happened afterward.”

  Something occurred to Jasmine. It struck her like a revelation. “You knew already he would kill Finn and me?”

  Marcelo coughed. “The future can change. If it couldn’t, I’d give up now.”

  “You’re playing a d
angerous game, old man,” Brusan said.

  Marcelo smiled at Brusan. It wasn’t his friendly smile, but one that spoke of something rock hard in the man. “It’s a game I’ve played for a long time now. I’d think twice if I were you before you decide to challenge me.”

  Brusan scowled at the man.

  “What if you can’t change this future?” Jasmine asked.

  “You’ve seen it. You’ve seen how Kahld kills you. Will you be standing in the same place? Will you do the same things? No? Of course not! So the future will change.”

  Brusan growled. “The best way to change that future is to walk away. Come with me, Jasmine. You don’t have to face the captain. Let these men of power deal with him.”

  She looked into Brusan’s anxious expression. She’d never seen him so concerned before.

  “I can’t,” she said to him.

  “Yes you can,” Aurelius said from the other side of the room. He came forward, his expression anxious. “You have a choice. You have the freedom to walk away. Run. Never look back.”

  “Aurelius!” Marcelo admonished.

  “I can’t,” she repeated. “I can’t let the captain kill Finn.”

  Aurelius’ eyes narrowed. “You’d risk your life for Finn?”

  “I can’t let him die.”

  Aurelius sneered. “Why is Finn always the favorite?”

  “Favorite?” Marcelo asked.

  Aurelius bit his lower lip. “I misspoke. Forgive me, master.”

  Brusan surged to his feet, knocked over a pile of books and caught Aurelius by the throat, much as Captain Kahld had caught Jasmine in the vision. Aurelius’ eyes bulged and his face went bright red in the firelight. He clawed at Brusan’s hand but he might as well have tried to claw at an iron clamp. What was Brusan thinking?

  Guardians had ways of protecting themselves. She wondered why Aurelius didn’t wield. Power rippled around Marcelo. Jasmine reached out and touched the old man’s wrinkled hand to stay him. She trusted Brusan’s reaction although she didn’t know why. Marcelo nodded once but turned a wary eye on Brusan.