Shadows of the Lost Sun

by Carrie Ryan

  “Sorry about that,” she told everyone.

  Ardent shook his head. “Well, I can’t say that was obvious. But it would seem that perhaps we should avoid drawing anything on the dream ribbon, at least until we’re ready to turn it into our new Map.” He took it from her carefully and rolled it up into a furled scroll. “A good thing you weren’t using the ink we’ll need. I suspect if you had been, your little doodle would have had… more substance.”

  Remy peered over Coll’s shoulder, still looking uncertain. “Which does raise the question of where we’re going next? I mean, we’re pretty much wandering aimlessly at the moment.…”

  “Yes, certainly,” Ardent said. He held up the Map. The hole in the middle of it was now substantially larger. It had been no bigger than a quarter when they made landfall at the Oneiran Shoals. Now it was the size of a silver dollar, and growing.

  “How much of the Stream has been lost?” Marrill whispered. “How much does this hole cover?”

  Ardent looked at her sadly. “It may appear small, and in a sense it is, as the Stream is infinite. But this is still a very sizable amount. Many worlds are gone already.”

  “Now, here is Meres,” he continued, trying to get them back on track, “where the Lost Sun intends to inject his power into the headwaters of the Stream.” He motioned to a point halfway between the edge of the void and the Neatline, the borders of the Map that kept its endless worlds from spilling right off the edge of the paper. Marrill noted that the hole extended unevenly up in a teardrop shape toward the spot Ardent had pointed to. “The Lost Sun is moving faster than expected. At this rate, he will likely make landfall at Meres in two days. Perhaps sooner.”

  The thought chilled Marrill to the core. “I guess we’d better get moving, huh?”

  Ardent nodded. “Quite. Fortunately, we only need one more thing. Living ink, capable of drawing everything that was or could be.”

  Marrill sighed. She knew what that meant. She searched the rigging, finally locating her cat awkwardly clawing his way back down the mizzenmast. She hated doing this to him, but there was no choice. They just had to hope that the Dawn Wizard had bequeathed living ink in his will, as well.

  “I’ll get the cannon,” she said.

  But Ardent waved his hand, dismissing her. “No need,” he said. “We know precisely where to find this ink.”

  Marrill perked up. “That’s great news! Where?”

  Rather than answering, Ardent glanced toward Coll.

  Coll’s hand instinctively touched the coil of rope tattooed on his skin. It snaked down around his forearm now. “Home,” the sailor said in a hollow voice.

  Marrill traded a confused expression with Fin and Remy. “And that’s… a bad thing?” she guessed.

  Coll nodded, but didn’t elaborate.

  As Ardent looked at the sailor, genuine regret flashed in his eyes, but Marrill had no idea why. “It’s the only possibility, you know. It’s the only place we can find the ink.”

  “I know,” Coll said.

  Ardent put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We have to go, Coll.”

  Coll nodded again. A strange tension crackled between them. “I said, I know.”

  “I wouldn’t ask it of you…”

  “And yet you are.”

  The wizard considered the captain for a long moment. “Yes, friend, I am.” He cleared his throat. “Set a course for the Knot of the Coiled Rope.”

  Coll straightened his back and tugged his shirt straight. He nodded once and then turned and mounted the steps to the quarterdeck without a word.

  Finally, Remy broke the silence. “So. Anyone want to explain why Coll going home is such a thing?”

  Ardent plucked up the roll of dream ribbon and wound it tightly. He stared at it a moment. His eyes seemed vacant, lost.

  “It isn’t my story to tell.”

  CHAPTER 17

  The Gloom and the Glow

  Late the next morning, Fin stood on the quarterdeck, watching uneasily as the Stream drew closer around them, narrowing from an endless expanse to a river once more. Scores of sails dotted the horizon. Most were civilian vessels, ships fleeing the coming of the void. But some belonged to warships sporting a familiar shape. And those warships, he realized, were headed straight for the Kraken.

  “It’s the Rise!” Fig whispered urgently. “They’ve found us. There’s no way we’ll make it past them!”

  She was right, Fin knew. Rise warships were racing in from either side to cut them off, while others tacked long courses back and around to circle them. The Kraken would soon be pinned, with no retreat and no way forward unless they could break through the rapidly forming blockade.

  Fin glanced toward Coll, trying to gauge his expression. The captain scowled fiercely, his mouth set in a firm line, but Fin couldn’t tell whether it was the looming Rise that concerned him or the looming destination.

  Ardent stood just beside the captain, leaning forward with a hard look in his eye. Only the whipping of his beard and the way his hat danced like a windsock undermined the severity on his face.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Coll asked.

  “As sure as I am that you don’t,” Ardent replied.

  “You know what you’re asking of me?”

  The wizard nodded. “I do not ask it lightly. Nor do I undervalue your accompaniment. But you must have faith. I didn’t let you down the last time we were here, and I don’t plan on doing so now, either.”

  The sailor looked to his other side, where Remy stood chewing her lip. Coll had made clear that if they were going to do this, she had to be next to him the whole time, ready to take the wheel whenever he told her to.

  Judging from the number of ships racing toward them, Fin wasn’t sure this was the time for a teaching moment. But it wasn’t time for an argument, either. Coll was the captain, and right now he was the only hope they had of outmaneuvering the Rise.

  “They’re getting too close,” Remy gasped. “We can’t make it!”

  Coll let out a snort. “Calm yourself, ensign.” He held out one hand, pointing with his index and pinkie to the nearest ships on either side of them. “Only those two even have a chance of touching us. Now observe.”

  He tapped the wheel left, and the bow swung right. The war vessel to starboard tacked in to drive the Kraken toward its partner. The portside vessel, meanwhile, swung broad, angling to catch them when they inevitably pulled away.

  But Coll held course. The starboard ship tacked even more sharply toward them, coming up fast. Fin couldn’t help but notice the fortified ram at the prow of the ship. It was just perfect for smashing into an enemy vessel. On the deck, he could see the Rise preparing for battle.

  “They’re going to ram us!” he cried.

  Beside him, Fig fidgeted wildly. “They’ll do it, too,” she added. “I’ve seen this before. They don’t have mercy. They’ll break us to splinters and snatch the orb while we’re sinking.”

  Coll held up a hand. “Calm…”

  The Rise ship drew closer, on a dead collision course. Soon, the Kraken would be taking on water, enemy boarding hooks would be flying. To the port side, the other Rise vessel had realized what was about to happen and turned back, leaving its ambush position to join the fight. It, too, would be upon them shortly.

  Remy gripped Coll’s arm as he, in turn, gripped the wheel. “Just like I told you,” Fin heard him whisper. “Aaaaaand… now!”

  He spun the wheel with all his might. The Kraken twisted abruptly, skating so hard it surfed up onto one side, slicing around through the water. The Rise ship sailed straight past them, soldiers on deck running from bow to port to aft as they passed.

  “And now!” Coll yelled again. Remy lunged forward, catching the wheel and spinning it with all her might in the opposite direction. The Kraken, still with full momentum, surfed right up on its other side, slicing neatly around the second vessel.

  Marrill clapped as Fin let out a shout of victory. Fig blew out a
relieved breath. On the deck, the Naysayer had turned himself so they couldn’t see his hands, but Fin could tell he was gesticulating angrily toward the Rise ships.

  “And that, folks, is how you captain,” Coll said with a smirk. He steered the ship smoothly into the narrowing channel.

  Fig looked to Fin, eyes wide with astonishment. “I can’t believe we made it!”

  He shrugged. “Coll’s the best there is.”

  “But we beat the Rise. For the third time.” She stared at him like his nose had come unglued. “The Rise aren’t beatable!” Fin started to point out that she was obviously wrong, but she shut him down with a wave of her hand. “You don’t understand. I’ve seen the Rise take entire worlds. Far-off places, just as training exercises. They’re ruthless and efficient, and I’ve never seen them lose a battle before they came up against you guys. Not once. That’s what they tell us, anyway, in the pens.…” She suddenly trailed off.

  Fin arched an eyebrow. “The pens?”

  Fig averted her eyes. “Oh, yeah, just… you know, where they keep the Fade children. And the disobedient. And the ones who have to be protected, like you—” She clapped her hand over her mouth.

  Fin leaned in toward her. His voice came out a sharp whisper. “What do you mean, like me?”

  “Nothing,” Fig chirped. “Just, like I told you, the Rise and Fade are linked. If a Fade dies, all the weakness returns to her Rise.” She shivered. “It’s the worst thing anyone can imagine. Dragging down your Rise… the ultimate failure.”

  Fin sighed. He couldn’t figure out what was worse: being no one or being less than that—a living embodiment of failure. “So they keep us in pens?”

  Fig shrugged. “Yeah, some of us. Like I said, the young, who have to be trained, and the disobedient, and those with an important Rise, who must be protected. It isn’t a nice place, but then… we deserve it for being what we are. Weak.”

  Fin shook his head, sure he couldn’t be hearing her correctly. “Are you kidding? We don’t deserve it. No one deserves to be kept in a pen!”

  “But—”

  “There are no buts! They’re treating people like cattle. No wonder my mom took me away.…”

  And just like that, it all clicked. His mom had taken him away to escape the pens. To be free. To live his own life. Suddenly, all the hurt he’d felt over the years seemed like a stupid kid’s game. His mother had risked everything to free him, so that he wouldn’t end up like Fig—believing that he deserved to be treated like a prisoner.

  “You know what?” he told her. “You keep saying we’re the bad parts. But I’ve met Vell, and I’m starting to think your definition of ‘bad’ and mine aren’t the same.” He pushed his chest out, feeling proud of himself. “So if it’s all the same to you, I don’t think I belong in a pen. And I don’t think you do, either. And based on recent experience, I’d say that if the Rise had never before been beaten, it’s because the Rise had never before met the crew of the Enterprising Kraken. Marrill, am I right?” He reached over for a high five.

  Marrill turned from where she’d been leaning over the gunwales. She lifted her hand, slapping it against his. “Right about what?” Her eyes slid toward Fig and her confused frown deepened.

  Rather than explain who Fig was for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, Fin distracted Marrill while Fig slipped away to the other side of the ship. “Hold on tight—looks like things are about to get rough.”

  Ahead, the current picked up as the water funneled between banks of jagged rocks so tall their tops were lost to the clouds overhead. The Kraken plunged between them, sluicing along the raging river. The towering walls closed tight around them, blocking the sun and casting them into a makeshift twilight, broken only by the glow of the churning water. Fin grabbed for the railing as the sound of whitewater pelted his ears.

  At first, he thought they must be approaching a giant waterfall. But then he realized it was more than that. The sound was coming from beside them, not just ahead. He peered at the broken stone walls. Through the gaps, he caught flickers of gold.

  It was another branch of the Stream, flowing right next to them! “Hey, check it out!” he said. “There’s another river!”

  “I know,” Marrill said. “I see it!”

  “Me too,” Fig added from across the ship.

  Fin spun on one heel. Sure enough, through the jagged rocks on her side, even more glimmers of gold shone through. “Oh, wow,” he said. “There’s three of them.”

  “Four,” the Naysayer said in a sniggering grunt. He stood amidships, one hand pointing at the sky.

  Fin looked up. With a start, he realized that they were in a giant cave. And on its ceiling straight overhead, yet another glowing river flowed.

  “Five,” said the Naysayer, pointing with another hand, then another. “Six. Sixteen. Sixty-three.”

  “Whoa,” Fin breathed, craning his neck. They were riding on one of what had to be hundreds of identical rivers, all flowing along the arching cave walls with no concern for gravity. They all rushed in the same direction, toward the same unseen point somewhere ahead.

  “Have you ever seen anything like it?” Fig asked, rejoining him.

  He shook his head. “Never even heard of anything like it. I mean, sure, there are places where branches of the Stream meet. Lots of them. But nothing like this.”

  “Come on, Fin!” Marrill called. “Let’s find out more!” She took off up the steps to the quarterdeck, where Coll stood, carefully supervising a white-knuckled Remy. Fin and Fig followed, practically tripping over each other as they piled up the stairs.

  “You’re doing fine,” Coll reassured Remy. “Ease up a little. When you’re tense, it makes your movements too jerky. Flow with the current when you can, be ready to fight it like mad when you have to.”

  “So, this is your home?” Fin asked.

  Coll raised an eyebrow at him. “One of them got on board,” he whispered to Remy. “Must have cut the turn too close. Hand me an ax.”

  Fin threw up his hands. “Friend! Friend!” Behind him, he could practically feel Fig slow-walking back down the stairs.

  Coll looked to Marrill, who nodded furiously. “Belay that order,” he told Remy. Then the captain shrugged, returning to the earlier conversation. “Sure. Home. Was. Sort of.”

  “How many rivers are there?” Marrill asked.

  “Too many to count. All this”—he motioned to the cave walls, the floor, everything—“this is just a small part of it.”

  “Indeed!” Ardent declared, shuffling forward from the rear of the ship as if he’d been perched there all along, waiting for someone foolish enough to ask a question susceptible to a needlessly long-winded explanation.

  “You will recall,” the wizard continued, “that the Pirate Stream is not one river, but many, and even the open Stream itself is, in a manner of speaking, just many rivers all flowing on top of and beside one another simultaneously.”

  “Sure,” Fin said. “Let’s say we remember that.”

  Marrill shushed him playfully. “I actually do remember it,” she giggled.

  “FakecoughSUCKUPfakecough,” Fin said to her.

  Ardent waved his hand a few times and seemed to catch a long handkerchief out of thin air. “Oh dear,” he said. “Faking Cough is a terrible disease. Have a pretendssue.” Fin reached for it halfheartedly. The fabric evaporated the second he touched it.

  “As I was saying,” Ardent continued, “on the Stream proper, all those different rivers may flow by and near and on and through one another, but they flow in different directions. The Knot of the Coiled Rope is the only place where all the rivers of the Stream flow together, all to the same place, all at once.”

  “So, how come no one knows about it?” Fin asked. “It seems like something like this would get a lot of attention.”

  “Fin, look,” Fig whispered in his ear. She nudged him in Coll’s direction. The tangled knot tattoo, the one that traveled across the sailor’s body and ha
d once nearly strangled him, peeked out from the sleeve of his left arm. And his right one. And from his collar.

  It was growing!

  Ardent must have noticed as well. His eyes flitted over it, studying Coll cautiously as he kept talking. “Not just anyone can come here, of course. It’s a secret, known only to the greatest sailors on the Stream. It takes a very special person, like our friend Coll here, to navigate the passage.”

  “But,” Marrill piped in, “we’ve just been sailing straight down a river this whole time.”

  Coll shook his head, taking the wheel from Remy. “It only seems straight because I know what I’m doing. I assure you, things would look very different if I didn’t. There are hidden eddies and whirlpools everywhere. Any captain who couldn’t handle them would find himself sucked down one and spit out somewhere random on the other side… if he was lucky.”

  “Difficult to find, nearly impossible to reach, and almost entirely unknown,” Fin mused. “Hey, Naysayer—I think we might have found your new home.”

  “No,” Coll and Ardent said at the same time.

  “This is not a place where one stays,” Ardent said. His expression grew oddly glum as he turned to the sailor.

  The look Coll gave him was anything but friendly. “Not if you can help it,” the captain added. Fin could hear fear, real fear, wavering in his voice. It was an emotion Coll showed rarely. If ever.

  The captain tightened his hands around the wheel. “If the Stream weren’t ending, Ardent…”

  “I know,” the wizard said. “I know.”

  The tunnel twisted, carrying them faster, farther. The rush of whitewater turned into the roar of a giant waterfall, bigger than Fin could imagine, coming up fast. He squinted, trying to make out their destination, but in the gloom and the glow, everything muddled together. Wherever they were headed, they were headed on faith alone. Fin hoped that was enough.

  Remy stomped her heel fiercely on the deck. “No.”