Legacy of the Blood (The Threshold Trilogy)

by Callie Kanno

  The inlet itself was filled with aquatic plants that had shiny, diamond-shaped leaves. The leaves and water glittered in the sunlight, giving the impression of millions of sparkling jewels. The light dazzled the eyes of the newcomers as they rode towards the city.

  As they drew nearer, Adesina noticed other scents mixing with the fresh ocean breeze. Livestock, open-air markets, piles of refuse, unwashed bodies—it was the smell of many thousands of people living in close quarters. There was some excitement in seeing the bustle of the streets, but it also made her long for the quiet of her home.

  Their names were taken at the gate, and added to a ledger that recorded every visitor.

  “Nationality?” inquired the guard, with boredom on his face.

  Kendan gestured first to himself, and then to the others. “Seharan, Jourin, L’avan, Rashad.”

  He wrote down this information without the least change of expression. Adesina was surprised to see how little he cared that they were magic-users.

  “Occupations?”

  “Soldiers for hire.”

  “What is your purpose in coming to Emerald Harbor?” asked the guard.

  “We wish to find a transport ship,” answered Kendan.

  The guarded finished recording this information and then waved them onward. Adesina waited until they were past the gate before leaning toward her former teacher.

  “Was it wise to give him our real names?”

  Kendan shrugged. “We are not hiding from anyone.”

  “Did you see his reaction?” asked Mar’sal. “He did not care that we are L’avan. I have never seen a place where the people acted in such a way.”

  “Clearly, you have not traveled enough,” said Kendan wryly. “While the Shimat have made efforts to create unfavorable opinions of your people, it was only necessary in the places where you would be known. As long as you were isolated, it was a simple matter of creating distrust in your neighbors. That is a much more difficult task in places where they are relatively accustomed to seeing unusual people.”

  It was true that the L’avan had remained in the northern parts of the land, even when they ventured away from Pevothem.

  “Perhaps we shall have to remedy that,” commented Than’os.

  Mar’sal lowered his voice. “Should we have asked about Basha coming through here? If they record all visitors, they must have recorded her.”

  “I doubt she gave her real name,” pointed out Adesina. “We will find better information asking down at the docks.”

  They rode down the busy streets, navigating carefully around the pedestrians. Kendan led the way, and he seemed very comfortable in choosing their direction.

  “I spent some time here in my early years as a Shimat,” he explained when he noticed her questioning glance. “There is a quiet inn not far from here. I know the owner.”

  The buildings of Emerald Harbor were mostly build of wood, and then painted bright colors. There was an upward slope to the south, and it appeared that the more wealthy citizens lived on the hill. Their homes and businesses were made of varying shades of granite, and Kendan mentioned that there was a quarry only a few leagues away.

  There was much more diversity in the people of the city than Adesina had ever seen before. There were men and women with skin almost as dark as Ravi’s coat, and some who were so pale that Adesina wondered if they ever saw the sun. There were men wearing strange, pleated skirts and there were women wearing trousers. There were those with tattoos, and those with piercings all over their bodies. Some wore clothing that barely covered them, and others showed no more than their eyes.

  Ravi was not the only exotic creature accompanying a human companion. There were brightly feathered birds, horses with six legs, and enormous hounds. Such beasts were not a common sight on the streets, but they were certainly not rare. Ravi still received amazed stares, but no one questioned them or acted out of panic.

  “There are not many cities in Sehar,” explained Kendan, “and Emerald Harbor is the only one that attracts foreigners. The sea emerald plant grows in abundance in the inlet, and a beautiful dye can be extracted from it. Traders are usually the only ones that come here, since Sehar has little else to offer.”

  Adesina already knew about the economic isolation of her homeland. It was one of the reasons why the Shimat found it an ideal location from which to base their operations. They themselves were able to maintain the solitude they desired, and it was easier for them to exert control over the individual groups of people.

  They used isolation to manipulate and divide the Seharans. Adesina knew that would have to change if they were ever going to stand against the Shimat.

  The inn that Kendan led them to was tucked away from the main roads, but it was clean and respectable-looking. It bore a sign with a black cat painted on it, and Ravi eyed it with visible amusement.

  “A fitting place,” he rumbled, with a smile dancing at the corners of his mouth.

  The common room was warm and lively. There were a handful of people sitting at tables and chatting, and there was an aged bard sitting on a stool in the corner. He plucked a cheerful tune on his lute, and there was the slightest pause as he looked up to see the newcomers.

  A thin man with an enormous mustache spotted Kendan and hurried over to greet him.

  “Master Karon! It has been a long time since I last saw you.”

  Kendan smiled. “Hello, Master Radwan.”

  “What brings you back to The Black Cat? Are you returning to live in Emerald Harbor? We can always use a skilled carpenter.”

  “I am sorry to say that we are just passing through,” he answered, and his regret sounded genuine. “Is there any room for us here?”

  The innkeeper slapped Kendan on the shoulder. “For you, my friend, always. Sit down, and I will send out some food. I will come by later and we can talk of the old days.”

  They found an empty table on the far side of the room, and were immediately served plates of steaming vegetables and some sort of fish. The others began eating, but Adesina was impatient to move on.

  “What is the next step in rescuing L’iam? Shall we go down to the docks?”

  Kendan gave her an amused glance. “All in good time. We must make time to eat and sleep, though. Not all of us have your tireless energy.”

  “There is plenty of time to question the dock workers before the sun goes down,” she insisted.

  “Yes, and I intend to do so,” he replied with exaggerated patience. “However, you must keep in mind that this part of our journey will probably take some time.”

  “Why?” asked Mar’sal as he took a swig of cider.

  “Because there are a limited number of ships that sail to this land. I do not doubt that we will be able to find out where Basha has gone, but it could be weeks until there is another ship heading for the same destination.”

  The L’avan stared at him, aghast.

  “Weeks?” repeated Adesina weakly.

  Kendan nodded decisively. “We might be able to bribe a ship’s captain into making a detour for us, but I doubt I have enough coin to make it worthwhile. You must prepare yourselves for a lengthy wait.”

  The young queen glanced at Faryl. “If it is coin that we need…” she began.

  “No, Adesina,” interrupted Than’os. “You cannot do that, even for L’iam.”

  Faryl was confused. “What are you talking about?”

  She hesitated, knowing that she shouldn’t even suggest such a course of action. However, her desperation to continue on their journey almost outweighed her reservations. “Between the two of us, we could create gold or jewels.”

  The light of interest flared in Kendan’s eyes. “Oh?”

  “It is against our laws to use vyala for such personal gain,” protested Than’os.

  “It would not be for our personal gain,” hedged Adesina.

  He was not convinced. “It would be for someone’s personal gain, no matter how you choose to look at it. L’iam would not want us t
o violate our trust in order to save him.”

  She clenched her fists and said in a low voice, “But I would do anything to bring him home.”

  “There are other ways,” Than’os reminded her gently. “More ethical ways. Our king would not thank you for setting a precedence for future abuse of that power.”

  Kendan frowned and leaned forward. “Why do you have laws against such practices? Think of all the good you could accomplish with unlimited resources.”

  Than’os gave a sad smile. “Yes, that would always be the initial argument. We could eliminate hunger if we were allowed to create crops. There would be no poverty if we could create gold. There would be no illness if we could heal everyone we wished. We could create a utopia for humankind.”

  “Exactly,” exclaimed Kendan.

  “But consider the cost,” Mar’sal interjected. “Imagine a nation where everything was simply given to the people—they never had to work, they never had to sacrifice. Such a nation would become selfish, entitled, and uncaring. The entire civilization would destroy itself.”

  “That is only one scenario,” added Than’os. “What if someone decided to use their gifts to gain power? They could promise a city that they would never starve or fall ill, but in return they must live in submission of L’avan rule.”

  Adesina sighed. “There are many reasons why the L’avan have laws governing how they use their magic, and those laws have safeguarded against the abuse of power for many generations.” She closed her eyes as she admitted what she knew to be true. “I am still new to this way of life, and I should not assume I know better than those who have come before.”

  “Times change,” argued Kendan. “The L’avan cannot expect to live by the standard of a hundred years ago.”

  Her back straightened slowly. It was hard to make a choice like this, but she knew deep down that it was what she needed to do. “There are some things that never change. We cannot declare something to be right simply because we wish it to be so.” She inclined her head toward her companion. “Than’os is correct. L’iam would not want me to make that choice on his behalf.”

  The former Shimat gave a forced shrug. He tried to appear as if he didn’t care, but Adesina could see that he was irritated. “Whatever you wish.”

  They finished their meal in silence, and they were soon joined by the innkeeper. He spoke to Kendan in a jolly tone, talking about people they had known and times that they had shared. It had been more than ten years since Kendan had lived in Emerald Harbor, but he recalled the details of that fabricated life easily.

  While Kendan and Master Radwan spoke, Faryl excused herself and went to her room to lie down. She was still recovering from her time as a prisoner, and the pace of their travel was taxing.

  Soon after Faryl’s departure, the aged bard set aside his lute and quietly approached their table. He had a dashing appearance, even though he was well past his prime. His tailored jacket was made of a crimson velvet, which was slightly worn, and his frilly shirt was carefully mended. He was clearly accustomed to travel and hard times, but he did not seem to mind.

  “May I sit here, mistress?” he asked Adesina, giving a courtly bow. “I would speak to you, if I may.”

  She was surprised by his address, but she assented.

  He seated himself with a flourish, and leaned toward her in a confidential manner. “I hope you do not think me rude, but I felt compelled to satisfy my curiosity. You see, I am a well-traveled man, but I have never seen any who bear your resemblance. From where do you hail?”

  Adesina was charmed and entertained by his words. “We are from the far north of this land.”

  “Ah,” he said carefully. “I have not had the pleasure of venturing to that country.”

  She found herself grinning, and gave him the answer for which he was really searching. “Our people are called L’avan. We are magic-users.”

  His expression cleared. “I see! I have heard stories of northern cults, but surely such tales must be exaggerated.”

  Adesina chuckled. She could not say exactly why, but she was taking an immediate liking to the old man. “I grew up in the south, and I also heard such stories. I can assure you that they are not true.”

  He smiled brightly. “My name is Jahan Lirit, wordsmith and music-weaver.”

  “My name is Adesina,” was the amused reply.

  “You say you grew up in the south, yet you look as though you belong with your companions,” he commented with a questioning glance.

  “I am L’avan by blood, but I was raised far away from them. I returned when I grew older.”

  Jahan nodded his approval. “Yes, it is good to see the world, but is it also good to be among kindred spirits.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Than’os and Mar’sal were carefully watching the bard. Ravi, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease.

  “From where do you hail?” asked the Rashad.

  Jahan looked astonished. Few people outside of the L’avan knew anything about the Rashad, and so it was understandable that he was surprised to see an enormous feline talk.

  He recovered quickly, though, and gave a frank answer. “I was born in a tiny village on Banolf—the nation across the sea to the north. I left there when I was a very young man, and I have wandered ever since. I made my way cleaning out stables or chopping wood at first, and then a musician took me under his wing and trained me to be what I am today.”

  After a brief pause, the old man turned to Ravi. “I have seen many wondrous creatures during my travels, but I have never met a non-human that could speak. Are you a result of your master’s magic?”

  The Rashad replied good-humoredly, “I suppose one could say that, but my people were created long before the L’avan.”

  Jahan was clearly fascinated. “I must return to my music, but I would enjoy further discussion. Would you allow me to question you some other time?”

  This inquiry was directed at all of them.

  Adesina glanced at Ravi, and he inclined his head. “We would be glad to talk to you again,” she said sincerely.

  He gave a wide grin and bowed with another flourish. “Until we speak again, then.”

  The bard walked back to his lute and began playing a tune that was both lively and playful. He was clearly pleased to have made their acquaintance.

  Kendan finished up his discussion with the innkeeper as well, and he turned to them with a carefully neutral expression on his face.

  “Come,” he said. “Let us go down to the docks.”

  Chapter Eleven: Ravi’s Gift

  The boats that were moored in the northern half of the harbor seemed to be local vessels, used for fishing and gathering the sea emerald plant. The ships in the southern half of the harbor were clearly the property of much more wealthy patrons. They consisted of the merchant vessels and similar transport ships.

  Kendan led the way up the southern slope, through the wealthy half of Emerald Harbor, and then down a series of winding paths down to the merchant docks. From there they split up to speak to the various workers.

  Adesina spoke to half a dozen men and women with no results. She was beginning to feel very disheartened when she met up with Kendan again.

  “I am looking for two people,” he was saying to a grizzled man who sat braiding rope. “One of them is a woman in her late twenties, short blonde hair, blunt features, black clothing like mine. The other is a man wearing a grey mask.”

  The rope-braider paused and scratched his beard. “Wolfish mask?”

  Adesina felt her heart leap at his words. “Yes!”

  They both looked up at her in surprise, and the man glanced at Kendan to make sure that he wanted the information shared. “I seen ’em. ‘Bout three days back. Got on a ship first thing.”

  “What was the destination of that ship?” asked Kendan calmly.

  A sly look passed over the rope-braider’s face. “Well, now, I cannot be sure I reckon…”

  Ravi gave a low growl, and th
e old man glared right back.

  “T’would be a shame to get et before I can recall.”

  Adesina placed a hand on the Rashad’s back, and she gave the man an icy stare as she reached into her pouch and pulled out a couple of copper coins.

  He snatched them up with alacrity and grinned. “They were headed for Zonne, mistress. Headed out with spice merchants.”

  Zonne was the continent southeast of Sehar, right along the equator. There were few civilizations there, due to the arid and hostile climate, and most of them were nomadic. The only reason a ship would travel there would be to trade for the rare spices that only a desert could produce. That would limit the chances of the L’avan following Basha anytime soon.

  Kendan exchanged a concerned glance with Adesina before questioning the old man further. “Would you happen to know when there will be another vessel sailing for Zonne?”

  The rope-braider shrugged and continued his work. “You would have to ask the Dock Keeper.”

  He jerked his head in the direction of a small hut that overlooked the docks, and they began walking towards it.

  “Ravi,” said Adesina quietly, “would you please find Than’os and Mar’sal? Tell them where we are, and that we have the information we need.”

  Her guardian gave a single nod and loped off with graceful ease.

  Kendan and Adesina made their way up the warped wooden stairs to the one-roomed shanty. Their knock was met with the curt command to enter.

  A plump woman with thick coils of chestnut hair was sitting at a table overflowing with maps of tides, registers, and scraps of paper that looked like the sort that came from carrier birds. She appraised them with a single sweep of her eyes, and immediately went back to her tasks. “How may I help ye?”

  “We seek transportation to Zonne,” stated Kendan. “We can pay handsomely.”

  The Dock Keeper snorted. “It do not matter what ye can pay, lad. There be no ship headed there for at least a week.”

  Adesina paled. “A week? Are you certain?”

  The woman raised an eyebrow. “Do ye think I do not know my trade?”