by E. S. Bell
“A Bazira adherent would not be allowed to sail the Western Watch, let alone step foot on one of its islands,” Niven stated crossly. “She’d be in custody already, I’m sure.”
“I’m not,” Byric said. “My pardons, young sir, but Accora was not merely an adherent, but a Reverent for the Shadow face. I could practically smell the ice in her. And she was smart. Whip smart. She…adapts. She learned the dialect, she wore the windpaint. She even learned what she could about whaling. By the time she left here, she could have passed for a Nanokari.” He shook his head. “These radical ideas of hers are twenty years old. I’d be surprised if she still considered herself a Bazira and I’d be shocked if she didn’t use her skill at disguise to hide from her own dark brethren.” He met Selena’s eye. “As I said, I don’t meddle in Temple affairs, and I wish you luck on your endeavor. But please consider that your prey may not be as dangerous as you might believe.”
Selena’s heart sank. Killing an enemy in cold blood is hard enough. But what if she is no longer my enemy? She put a gloved hand over her heart, feeling the cold draft through the leather.
A silence fell that was eerie in its completeness. No wind, no water lapping on shore, no creak of timber. The only noises were what they made, and after a few moments, Julian pushed himself from the bench with a loud scraping of wood on stone.
“Well, we’d best head back before Ilior gets anxious and comes searching for Selena.”
“Who is Ilior?” Byric asked. “The name sounds…foreign.”
“It is a Vai’Ensai name,” Selena said and the librarian’s eyes widened so that the whites seemed glow in the dim light of the cavern.
“A Vai’Ensai? Here?”
“The cold has kept him from accompanying us to your library.”
Byric rose from his seat, moving faster than Selena thought him capable.
“I know you aim to get back, but please…You must see this.” He hurried to another shelf and perused its contents until he drew forth a slender book bound in leather and loosely tied with strips of hide. He returned to his seat, lowered himself down, and set the book on the table.
“We spoke of so many things—Accora and I—that I hadn’t remembered this until you mentioned a Vai’Ensai. This book set her thoughts aflame, though I never could figure out why.”
Selena examined the cover. Markings that looked like animal scratches were pressed into the leather and below the markings was a title in Tradespeak.
“Vai’Ensai Culture, Rituals and Tribal Life,” she read. “A Journal of One Year on the Cloud Isles.” She looked up at Byric. “A human? On the Cloud Isles?”
“Aye,” Byric said. “Jorman Lancaster. A Guildsman from the Order of Explorers. The first and only human, as far I know, to be allowed in to the Cloud Isles. Now, this was way back during the Age of Sedition. According to Lancaster, a tribal elder, a dragonman—pardons, a Vai’Ensai— by the name of Omni’ir, had radical views that were in keeping with the turbulent times but that violated Vai’Ensai law. He decided to let the human live for one year amongst them, documenting life of the dragonkind.”
“That is remarkable,” Selena said. “But what about this history fascinated Accora?”
Byric opened it to the page he sought and turned it so that Selena could read what was written.
Day 278, Junir month
Hurani has been most generous in tutoring me in the language. My mouth, tongue, and throat are not formed in the manner of the dragonkind and so cannot reproduce the sounds with any degree of accuracy, but the attempt has yielded some humorous results. But I will not expend my precious time or energy on a fruitless endeavor. Instead, I have asked Hurani to tutor me on the Vai’Ensai language itself, as some of the words and phrases the dragonkind use have no exact translation in Tradespeak. For example, they have no word for mother or father, as they begin life as eggs laid into a communal nest, tended by caretakers, and raised by the village as a whole. The closest word they have to ‘mother’ is karui’ka, which means ‘egg-layer’. As one can see, such a moniker hardly distinguishes one female from another in the village, and carries no familial or maternal weight. The connection between parent and offspring is therefore altered: many of the attendant words we humans use to denote such deep relationships do not exist in the Vai’Ensai tongue or are almost clinical in their description rather than emotional.
Selena shrugged. “I fail to see how this would be of use to a Bazira or why it would set her to questioning her faith.”
“Have you got to the last bit yet? “ Byric tapped an ink-stained finger to the bottom of the passage. “Here. This is the meat of it.”
Selena read aloud for Niven and Julian’s sake.
“The seclusion and isolation the dragonkind have lived with (until now) have caused a rather interesting error among us humankind. The very name, Vai’Ensai, has always been translated into Tradespeak to mean The Children, with the obvious extrapolation that they are the descendants of the dragons who ruled—and nearly destroyed—Lunos so long ago. But Hurani tells me this is not so. Verily, they are descended from those mighty beasts, but she says that the word ensai means more closely brother or sibling,(nest mate) rather than child as the title is commonly ascribed.”
Selena returned the journal to Byric. “I don’t understand.”
Byric shut the book and lay his hand over the cover. “The dragonkind are the dragons’ children, that is undisputed. But Vai’Ensai, in the most direct translation means The Siblings. Why? Who are they siblings to?”
“Seems rather vague,” Julian said. “It’s possible there was no actual translation for ‘children’ and so human translators chose the next best thing. The Guildsman himself writes that there were such anomalies.”
“Aye,” Byric said, “but there is a word for ‘children’—or ‘offspring’—in the dragonkind tongue and it isn’t ensai.”
Selena pondered this, wishing mightily that Ilior were with them. It felt wrong to discuss such things without him. As if there were talking behind his back.
“Ilior would know the truth to the translation, I’m sure.”
“Aye, and I would love to hear it,” Byric said. “I may be tempted to leave my little nook to see him. I’ve been feeling a bit tired as of late. Not so young as I was once, I suppose. Perhaps in a day or two…?”
“We leave Isle Nanokar on the morrow,” Julian said, rising.
Byric frowned. “That is too bad. Perhaps, Lady Paladin, you would ask your friend the truth of the matter, and once you do, please tell Tunney to pass it on to me. Then I might satisfy this curiosity that has been awakened in my heart like a bear from its hibernation.”
“I will,” Selena said, and for once the lie slipped off her tongue with ease. In the beginning of their acquaintance, she had been curious about Ilior’s past and people. Losing his wing made him an outcast and it pained him to speak of it. Out of respect for his privacy, Selena had stopped asking.
An old translation is not worth waking that pain in him.
They roused Tunney who awoke with a snort. “Time to go?”
“Aye.” Selena turned to Byric. “Thank you for sharing your library and your knowledge with us.”
“Of course. Please give Master Ilior my regards. You won’t forget, will you?”
“No, I will not forget.” They turned to go when a thought occurred to Selena. She turned at the door. “I was just thinking that my companion, Ilior, seems to me like a brother and has since the very moment I met him. I feel so close to him…as if we were bloodkin. I wonder if that holds any meaning.”
“Maybe so. Maybe not. But unless she’s finally satisfied her own curiosity, I’m sure Accora would be itching to know.” Byric’s smile had a melancholy twinge to it. “Perhaps you could ask her when you see her.”
Bard’s Songs and Bloody Memories
Night was approaching when they emerged from the library. Sebastian felt as though they had just escaped from the gullet of some terrible beast as the
impenetrable blackness released them to a twilight of violet and orange. The clouds that had helped to paint the vistas of Isle Nanokar in shades of perpetual gray glowed. Glowing too, were the icebergs that ringed Isle Nanokar, the setting sun limning them in fiery gold and red. Selena had told him she thought the icebergs that created the bay around Nanokar resembled icy teeth, as if the isle sat in the maw of a giant monster.
No beasts. No monsters. Just rocks and ice and water. The monsters are not of the world, they walk upon it.
“I know ye be eager to get back,” Tunney said, as they loaded into the sled, “but seeing as yer departing tomorrow and not like to return, there be one thing else ye might like to see. A melancholy place, aye, but rarest of all that be rare and old. Mayhap on all of Lunos.” He wore a small smile. “When ye speaks of yer travels you can tell’em that Nanokar is more than ice an’ whales an’ strange old men living in caves.”
Sebastian glanced at Selena, huddled into her seal coat. She met his eye and shrugged as if to say, I can’t get any colder.
“Make it quick,” Sebastian said.
“Aye, t’is near. Just ‘round that bend o’ the cliff.”
A few short minutes and the dogs took them to where the path curved around the cliff. Tunney called the dogs to a halt at the lip of a great ice plain. Sebastian sucked in a breath and heard similar gasps from Niven and Selena.
The ice plain stretched across the land. Great plateaus and ridges of snow-covered ice that continued on into the northern horizon as if forever. But the ice… Sebastian had never seen such ice. It thrust up from the ground in great slabs, wearing coats of snow. There were hundreds of such slabs, and each was blue. Impossible blue. The blue of a high summer sky, of blue topaz gemstones, of blue tang fish that swam around the waters off his atoll.
Blue like Selena’s eyes…
“That color…like God’s Tears…” she murmured.
“What is it?” Niven whispered. His words were torn away by the whistling wind but Tunney heard anyway.
“Byric calls it dragon ice. He didn’t speak o’ it whilst I was snoozing? Surprising. Aye, dragon ice, from the Breaking. A remnant o’ that terrible, terrible war.”
“But why dragon ice?” Niven said. “It’s too beautiful to be named for such vile creatures.”
“It’s not named for it, but of it. Or so Byric would tell,” Tunney said. “This be a…what’s he call it? A breath weapon. Don’t know from which dragon an’ neither does he.”
Selena shivered and hugged herself. The crescent moon she’d painted on her face was dark in the falling light.
“We’ve seen enough. Time to go,” Sebastian said.
“Ye haven’t seen all,” Tunney said, “but I’ll hurry on yer account, lady. One last bit o’ history.”
He cracked the whip and turned the dogs down a small slope that curved behind a hunk of gray stone. In the bend was more dragon ice, tall slabs of bright blue that tapered up in jagged ribbons, like licks of flame. Inside the ice were people. Three men were locked in the brilliant azure, and perfectly preserved. Bundled in hides and fur caps, and they appeared to have been running when the ice trapped them. The expressions of horror on their faces were apparent.
“Breath weapon,” Tunney said, his voice low. “The plain yon be full of such. Women and children too. Ye can see’em if ye trek out in daylight hours but these here are plainest.”
There was a silence among them as the last light faded, shrouding the trapped men in darkness.
“Why don’t you melt the ice and give them a proper rest?” Niven asked finally, sounding stricken.
“Because, young sir,” Tunney said, “not the hottest sun, nor the roarin’est flame will melt that dragon ice. Not never.”
Selena struggled out of the sled.
“What are you doing?” Sebastian demanded. “Sit down and let’s get the bloody Deeps out of here.”
She ignored him and shuffled to the trapped people like an old woman. She raised one shaking hand and touched the ice. “Have any Aluren ever seen this?”
“Cain’t say any have,” Tunney said. “Not that I’ve ever heard in all my years.”
Selena took off her glove and touched her bare hand to the ice. “Luxari,” she murmured through chattering teeth. A white orb of light bloomed in her palm.
Niven gasped. Tunney muttered something under his breath. Sebastian just watched as the dragon ice began to weep. Rivulets of striking blue water flowed from under Selena’s hand, and the hard edge became concave.
The ice was thick; the people trapped within were held deep, but Selena’s light sought them quickly. Just before it could burrow to the upraised arm of one of the men, she jerked her hand away and staggered backward. She stared, wide-eyed, at melted ice and then down at her hand, as if she couldn’t believe it was her own.
“They’re dead,” she said, her voice thick and breathy. “We should go.”
She climbed back into the sled, avoiding Niven’s awestruck stare, and struggled to put her glove back on her hand that was stiffened and claw-like.
Sebastian took the glove from her and tugged it over her hand. “Why did you do that? Not cold enough?”
“She melted dragon ice,” Tunney said, awed, as he took up his post at the rear of the sled. “The sun cain’t even do that.”
Selena nodded, as if Tunney’s reply was her own, and said nothing more.
Tunney cracked his whip above their heads. “Not even the sun,” he said again, and then the only sounds were the panting dogs and the susurration of ice slipping under their sled.
It was full dark when the township reappeared on the path before them. The great ice rocks in the sea glowed silver now in the moonlight and the black sea was laced with white as it lapped upon the shore. The moon hung full in the sky, like the god’s great eye staring down at them. Ahead, the fires of the tryworks were still burning; red and orange ribbons under the great ovens, and the smoke stole the crispness from the air and filled it with the rank stench. Selena wrinkled her nose.
“I’ll never get used to that smell,” she murmured through clenched teeth.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Her discomfort abated a bit as the warm lamps burning along Nanokar’s main street became visible, and the sound of laughter and conversation filled the air
“It’s like music,” she said, almost to herself.
Sebastian had to agree. After the sad strangeness of the ice plain and what happened there, the life of the township was a welcome sight. He watched as the somber mood fell off of Selena like an old coat, and she smiled. The cold still had her in its icy grasp and shook her now and then, but she bore it better than she had the day before. He thought he could guess why. Selena had stood where the Bazira had stood and perused the same books. She thought that a good omen or a sign of the god’s favor.
It’s a load of whale shit nonsense. The god doesn’t smile upon you, Selena, not so long as it makes you wear that wound.
Moreover, the information Byric had given them was so old as to be almost useless and had no bearing on her quest that he could see. It had bearing on his, however. He thought of what Zolin had told him, that Accora espoused views that displeased the Bazira.
Byric was right about her questioning her faith. She’s enough of an apostate for Zolin to issue a death sentence.
He sighed with irritation. That would make his task all the harder as he was certain Selena wouldn’t dispatch the woman if she were no longer an enemy. She was conflicted enough about killing the old witch in cold blood.
I’ll have to do both jobs myself. He glanced down at Selena trudging beside him. Her pale hair shone in the lamp light.
Eight hundred gold doubloons will shine even brighter…
But there was no answering thrill at the thought. Only the deepest blackness, like the tunnel under the canyon.
At the White Sail, the common room was full to bursting. Raucous laughter and singing spilled from the open door and into the
street. Warm light emanated from the windows and the scent in the air wasn’t boiling blubber, but delicious food and mulled wine. They stepped inside with Niven and Captain Tunney following behind. The heat was near stifling, packed as it was with patrons and with a fire in the immense hearth roaring away. Selena sagged with relief.
“Thar she be!” Boris shoved his way through the crowd, his lone eyebrow giving his face a lopsided appearance. His skin was red but Sebastian thought that was from drink now, not from the burning oil that had splattered him only half a day before. Selena’s healing skill was incredible. Miraculous even.
But she can do nothing for herself, Sebastian thought. What a crock.
“Shove aside, now!” Boris stood before Selena and raised his mug. “To my lady! As beauteous and sweet as you are kind fer what you did fer a scallywag like me. I won’t e’er be as perty as I once was—”
“That’s the god’s bloody truth!” someone called.
“—but I be alive an’ hale an’ I have you to thank fer it.” He laid his lips to her hand and then hoisted his mug, sloshing white foam down the front of his jerkin. “To Lady Selena!”
The men and women in the tavern hoisted their mugs again, echoing the toast, then Boris was guiding her through the room, bellowing at the other patrons to get out of his bloody way. Sebastian followed behind.
“I knows you like to stay close to the fire, so I saved you a seat,” Boris said, indicating a chair beside Ilior. It was nearest the hearth and close to a small stage that had been set aside for a bard to play.
Hilka came around with mugs and wine glasses. “Mead,” Sebastian told her. “The Gold.”
The innkeeper bent close, her lips brushed his ear. “Of course. Anything ye ask, young cap’n. I’ll be quick to fetch it.” Her hand lingered on his shoulders. “Anything at all.”