Starspawn

by Wendy N. Wagner

  A small white-and-yellow shape waited for them at the top of the stairs leading to the sea cave. Glayn and Tam had succeeded in getting Kran to safety, but apparently Fylga didn’t follow Jendara’s orders. The dog wagged her tail as the pair approached.

  Jendara found herself surprisingly glad to see her, too.

  * * *

  Jendara screwed the lid on the jug of whale oil and put the jug down by her feet. Outside the mouth of the grotto, noon’s brilliance sparkled on the water. She guessed she’d been sitting on this deck for a good forty minutes or so, waiting for Vorrin and Zuna to come back from their search for Yerka, Boruc, and Tam. She’d kept herself busy as best she could. She and Glayn had repaired and replenished all their exploratory supplies. The gnome came hustling back from the cargo hold with another roll of rope under his arm, and she waved at him from the bench she’d dragged over by the gangplank. “That’s the last of the lanterns. They’re all topped up.”

  “We’ll be glad to have them,” Glayn said. He picked up the nearest pair of lanterns and then put them back down. “Dara? You all right?”

  She looked past him, out over the dock and the beach. Vorrin and Zuna weren’t back yet. “I don’t know, Glayn. This place is getting to me.”

  “I think it’s fascinating.” He sat down and laughed at her expression. “Don’t get me wrong: it stinks like a fish’s latrine and it’s about as dark. But don’t you think it’s incredibly interesting? Who were these people? What was it like when they lived here?”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “The buildings on the top side were pretty amazing.”

  “I wish I could have seen more of them. Boruc showed me some sketches he made of the ones on the hill. All those star and tentacle designs. Amazing stuff.”

  She thought of the skeletons they’d found down in that prison. “Not all of it’s amazing. They spent a lot of effort making those prison cells—I think they even used magic on the bars.”

  “And did you notice how much more worn the lower levels were than the purple boulevard?”

  “The lower levels were shabbier. Even the stairs were plainer,” she mused. “If I had to guess, I’d say that was where the poor lived.”

  “Rough to have to live down here, knowing the splendor that was up above,” Glayn noted.

  “There are haves and have-nots in every city,” Jendara pointed out. “I always think islanders are so fair, but Sarni had to steal her first pair of shoes.”

  “I miss her,” he said. “She could always make me laugh.”

  “I brought her on board to protect her.” Jendara bit her lip. “I haven’t done a very good job protecting anyone.”

  “You’ll find her,” he said. “I know you will.”

  “I don’t know, Glayn,” she admitted. “It’s like I’m fighting the island itself and I can’t win. Every time we make a plan, something comes up to ruin it.”

  The gnome put his little hand on her knee. “You’ll figure it out.” Then he frowned and jumped up from the bench. “There’s Vorrin and Zuna.”

  She sprang up, too. “Where are the others?” she shouted.

  Without a word, Vorrin held out his fist, closed around the shaft of a vicious-looking trident. It looked just like the one their prisoner had used to fight off the fish-folk in the Star Chapel.

  “Ulat-kini,” Jendara growled.

  Vorrin looked grim. “Let’s go check in with our prisoner.”

  * * *

  They prepared the galley for the ulat-kini hybrid, setting up a chair with enough room around it for a questioner to move free, and lit enough lanterns to bring a sense of daylight to the proceedings. No one had suggested they bring in so many lamps. Every one had simply found themselves setting a lantern or two into one of the galley’s mirrored sconces, or finding a place for a light to hang from one of the many storage pegs.

  Jendara knew a thing or two about interrogations. She just hadn’t realized her crew had learned so much from her.

  Jendara took her time getting ready. She studied Kran when she thought he wasn’t looking. He had claimed the ulat-kini had rescued him from the fish-folk, and he looked worried as he sat on the edge of a dining table, waiting for things to begin.

  Jendara had her doubts about the creature’s purported heroism. Kran had to have felt overwhelmed, alone in a dark and unfamiliar place after Sarni’s disappearance. It would have been easy for him to misconstrue the creature’s motivations as altruistic when really it was simply trying to defend itself from the fish-folk.

  Still, he was her boy. She didn’t like seeing him so miserable.

  Zuna swore as she and Vorrin dragged the ulat-kini out of the storage room. Kran dropped to the ground beside the dining table, huddling next to his dog.

  Jendara hurried to the cupboard above the galley’s tiny stove and took out a pouch. The others were focused on securing the ulat-kini’s bonds. Kran pulled Fylga close, rubbing his chin on her floppy yellow ears. Jendara slipped a piece of toffee from the pouch, put it in her pocket, and crossed to her boy. He looked up at her with an anxious expression and then quickly brought his gaze back to the dog.

  Jendara reached out to stroke the dog. Fylga’s coat was softer than it looked, sleek and smooth and dense beneath Jendara’s hand. Jendara reached for the toffee and held it out to the boy.

  “Can we talk later?”

  He hesitated for a second before taking the candy. Then he gave a stiff nod. Jendara smiled at him.

  “Do you speak Taldane?” Vorrin asked. They’d made a plan in case it didn’t, but the creature surprised them all with a nod of its head.

  Jendara joined Vorrin. The ulat-kini stared back at them, its—his, Jendara corrected—face unreadable. His cheeks and chin looked very nearly human, a strange contrast to his broad, pale-lipped mouth and bulging eyes. The pale fuzz of his eyebrows against the greenish-gray tone of his skin did nothing to improve his appearance.

  “What’s your name?” Jendara asked.

  The ulat-kini’s eyes jerked toward her. “Korthax,” he answered.

  “Korthax,” Vorrin repeated. “When we found you with our boy—those creatures you were fighting. Do you know what they are?”

  Korthax nodded. He coughed. “May I have some water?”

  His accent was thick and his words stumbling, but his grammar surprised Jendara. Korthax must have had regular contact with humans for his Taldane to be so good.

  No one spoke while Zuna scooped a mugful from the hogshead and held it to his lips. He slurped noisily and then pulled away, water dripping down his chin.

  “Thank you.”

  Zuna set her back to one of the ceiling supports. She pulled out her belt knife and began to clean her nails. With her height and broad shoulders, it had to be an unnerving sight for the creature.

  Korthax stared at Vorrin, pointedly ignoring Zuna. “We call them ‘deep ones.’”

  “So, these deep ones. Why were you fighting them?” Vorrin asked.

  “I think maybe they live here,” Korthax said. “We did not know this before we came with Ahrzur and his crew.”

  “Ahrzur? Who’s that?” Jendara found herself leaning in, her neck and shoulders tense.

  The ulat-kini looked around at the faces staring at him. “You think I just tell you everything because I am afraid of you. You all have weapons nearby and she—” he jerked his chin in Zuna’s direction, “already has a knife in her hand.” His thick lip curled. “You make me sick.”

  Vorrin raised a fist. “You damned scum.”

  Kran stepped forward, waving his arms. Everyone stared at the boy. He took out his chalk and wrote in his clearest hand: He HELPED me. Don’t forget.

  Glayn folded his arms across his chest. “And why did you help him? Doesn’t seem like the kind of thing thieves like you do.”

  “I—” Korthax shook his head. “I run from the deep ones. They are dangerous. They kill for their gods. Like me, the boy runs. I not let the deep ones get him. Is right to save small ones.
”

  Jendara narrowed her eyes. “So you were just trying to save my son because he’s young? It’s not because you wanted to steal him like one of your people stole Tam and Boruc and Yerka?”

  “Yerka?” Korthax went rigid. “What do you mean, Yerka?”

  “Your people wanted her back,” Jendara said. Her voice climbed with every word: “You had her locked up in a filthy boat and we saved her, and you didn’t like that.” She stopped and took a deep breath. Her nails were biting into her palm. It wasn’t time to use violence on him yet. She had to get more information, first.

  “No.” Korthax shook his head again. “No, you not understand. Yerka is wife of my brother. That boat is her home. She is not locked up.”

  “Of course she’s locked up!” Jendara snapped. “You think she would stay with you slimy things of her own free will?”

  “That is how you see us,” Korthax said quietly. “As things. Not people.”

  Vorrin sighed and held up the trident. “Let’s cut the crap. I found this trident in one of the hallways beyond the Star Chapel where we found you. It’s an ulat-kini’s, I know it. Now tell us how your people get around on this island.”

  “Or what?” Korthax’s eyes flashed. “You will kill me?”

  “I might,” Jendara said. “You’ve taken my friends. If I don’t get them back soon…”

  The ulat-kini smirked. He looked from Jendara to Vorrin, then back again. “My people have something you want. And you have something I want. Maybe we make a deal.”

  Jendara didn’t like the ulat-kini’s smug expression. “I don’t know that you’re in a position to negotiate.”

  “I am. I know things you want to know.” He smiled, showing pointed yellow teeth. “I know how many ulat-kini on island. I know secret route that Ahrzur and his black robes shared with us. I know if black robes get their hands on you, you will be made slave like others Ahrzur getting. I think that makes me worth more alive than dead.” His smile widened, and for a moment, despite the ferocious teeth, he looked so much like a smarmy merchant that Jendara could almost forget he wasn’t the same species she was.

  “Why would you want to deal with us?” Glayn suddenly asked. “After all, we don’t even think you’re people.”

  Korthax chuckled. “I do not trust you. But my brother … he turns our people against me.” His face darkened. “I should have become leader after Father die, but with my uncle’s help my brother stole place from me. I make him pay. I see him hu—humiliated like he did me. I am sure his wife took your friends.”

  “Yerka?” Zuna snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Ahrzur took the other ulat-kini—those of us who are not hybrids—to collect humans for his project. Your friends would be very valuable to him. Yerka would be rewarded.”

  Jendara looked from the hybrid to Vorrin and back. She didn’t like how easily the creature had shared his information, but that didn’t mean it was worthless. And if there were some kind of power struggle going on inside the ulat-kini community, perhaps that would make it easier to get their crew back.

  “We go back to camp,” Korthax said. “I take you there. You can keep me tied up. Once you see Yerka in action, you will believe. She is clever. Hungry for power. You will see.”

  He closed his mouth and watched them think, seemingly content to wait.

  Jendara narrowed her eyes and beckoned to the others. She lowered her voice. “There’s a trick somewhere in this, but I’m willing to go back to the camp.”

  “We don’t have any other leads,” Vorrin whispered, “and I’m not eager to try the route you took earlier. They’ll be watching that now.”

  “And the sewage tunnels are out, too,” Zuna added. “That last passage was too unstable for us to risk it again.”

  Vorrin turned back to the ulat-kini hybrid. “It’s a deal,” he said. “But if anything goes wrong, I won’t hesitate to stick my sword through your slimy little heart.”

  Korthax grinned. “All hearts are slimy. That is something our species have in common.”

  Jendara marched to the storage room and opened the door. “Let’s put him away for the night. I’m sick of listening to him.”

  Their eyes met, prisoner’s and jailer’s. Something flickered in the depths of Korthax’s protruding orbs. Jendara had the uncomfortable feeling it was laughter.

  12

  LIFE IN THE DEAD CITY

  Jendara stood on the shingled beach, watching the waves grow taller and taller, until they scraped the night sky. She knew she had to get back to Kran and warn him a tsunami was coming, but her feet had fused to the rock. She couldn’t move.

  Jendara! the waves called, in Sarni’s desperate voice. Help me, Jendara! Help me!

  “I promise I’ll take care of you!” Jendara called, struggling to lift her feet. “I’m coming, Sarni!”

  The wave rolled closer, tearing the stars from the sky until their lights burned within the depths of the sea. The star-filled wave crawled toward her, the foam on its surface drawing together into a dozen faces, a hundred screaming faces, and she knew each and every of them, and they were all begging her to help them, but she couldn’t move and in a minute she would drown in all their terrible need—

  Jendara sat up, breathing hard. For second, she wasn’t sure where she was, and then she realized she was in her own bed inside her cabin on the Milady. Darkness filled the room like tepid water. She forced herself not to hold her breath.

  Just a nightmare, she told herself. The wind shrieked outside the cabin’s windows. She shivered. Her linen shirt had soaked through with sweat.

  Vorrin snored softly beside her. She eased out of bed. Her nap was over—there was no way she could go back to sleep after that dream. Every muscle in her back and legs felt tight, and her jaw hurt. She slipped on her clothes and stepped outside without waking even the dog.

  Off toward the bow, she could make out the soft glow of the lantern. The crew had all agreed they needed a few hours shut-eye before risking a trip into enemy territory, and she and Zuna had drawn straws for the two short watches. Jendara thought she’d sleep heavily when she’d finished her rounds, but apparently she’d been wrong. Perhaps it was the screeching of the wind. It certainly seemed louder now.

  Jendara crossed to the bench by the gangplank and pulled her jacket more tightly around her. She couldn’t help remembering that room underground where she’d heard Sarni’s voice, only to realize her voice carried on a wind blowing from ancestors-only-knew where. She didn’t want to think about what might be happening to the girl.

  Jendara scrubbed her cheeks with her fingers. Before they’d come to this island, it would have been hard to imagine Sarni finding any kind of trouble she couldn’t handle. Trouble might as well have been Sarni’s middle name. Jendara had first met the girl in a tavern, stealing purses from sea captains while she lost wildly at cards. Then she got so drunk celebrating she fell off a table and lost all the purses. That girl could handle anything but herself.

  Jendara gave a little laugh and stretched out her legs. The lantern approached, and she saw Zuna headed toward her. Jendara braced herself for more of the woman’s bad attitude.

  “Hello, Zuna.”

  “Hello, Jendara.” The tall woman stood in front of Jendara, her lantern glaring down into Jendara’s eyes. “May I sit for a moment? I don’t want to shirk my duties, but I wouldn’t mind resting my feet.”

  Jendara made room for her on the bench. “Of course.”

  The bench creaked a little as Zuna took a seat. Jendara sat quietly waiting for her night vision to return. The breeze shrieked and hissed in the background, reminding her unpleasantly of her dream.

  “What were you laughing about just now?” Zuna put the lantern on the decking between their feet. Its glow gave the deck a sense of warmth.

  Jendara shrugged. “I was thinking about the first time I met Sarni.” The answer sounded curt, so she added: “She’s spirited.”

  Zuna rubbed the toe of h
er boot against the back of her calf and then studied its surface. “I didn’t like her at first. She was trouble.”

  “You’re right,” Jendara agreed. “But she had so much potential I had to bring her on. She’s a smart kid.”

  “Yeah,” Zuna agreed. “And she’s one of us now.”

  It was an opening Jendara had to take. She didn’t want to coddle Zuna, but she needed her. “Look, Zuna, this crew is like my family. I get pretty stupid about my family. I don’t know if you’ve noticed.”

  Zuna gave a dry laugh. “Maybe a bit.”

  “Back there at the ulat-kini camp, I was worried about Vorrin. I shouldn’t have cut you down like that.”

  Zuna turned to face Jendara. “You and Sarni are a lot alike. I didn’t like you much when I first met you, either. I’d known Vorrin for years, worked with him on two different ships. I thought you’d get him in trouble.”

  “I’d put trouble behind me by the time you met me.”

  “That’s what you say, but I think you’ve got some kind of magnet for trouble. You don’t mean for things to happen, but they do when you’re around.”

  Jendara couldn’t read the other woman’s face or her tone. “Do you think I asked to have my house flooded, or to come here and get attacked by fish people? If so, you’re crazy, Zuna.”

  Zuna shrugged. “I call it like I see it. Before I met you, I’d never been attacked by a pirate or seen a goblin. I’ve led a nice quiet life. I go to sea, I get time off, I spend my money on my lady. But when I’m around you, all kinds of excitement breaks out.”

  Jendara opened her mouth to protest and then went quiet. Like it or not, her own history argued that Zuna was right.

  Zuna let out a face-breakingly wide yawn. “Sorry. I tried to sleep, but I kept having these weird dreams. Spiders, mostly. By the gods, I hate spiders.”

  “Me, too,” Jendara agreed.

  “Jendara!” Vorrin shouted from the captain’s cabin, his voice hoarse and urgent. “Where are you?”

  Jendara sprang up and ran to the cabin door. Vorrin pulled her inside. “I didn’t know what to do,” he said.

  By the soft light of the lowered lantern, she could see Kran crouched in the corner, clawing at the wall and whimpering. Fylga nosed at the boy, but he didn’t stop. Jendara knelt beside him and stroked his cheek. “Kran? What’s wrong?”