Sea of Strangers

by Erica Cameron

  “Just because the katsujo running through the Nentoado range is the one Varan found doesn’t mean it’s the only one that exists. It was just an idea, but after Suakizu, it seemed more likely,” Tessen says slowly, seeming distracted. “Maybe the Kaisuama vein was just the closest to the surface. I was almost positive there are others. We may not have to go back to Nentoado.”

  “Because what happened in Suakizu proves there’s some connection at least to the survival of different areas,” I murmur, working through the logic in my head. Then, “Wait. You said was. Why aren’t you positive now?”

  “No, I was almost positive until I found another one.” Tessen smirks, smug pride I haven’t seen for moons shining in his eyes. “Now I’m absolutely positive.”

  A thrill buzzes through my veins, raising bumps on my arms and across the back of my neck. I used to hate that look on his face, because it always meant he was about to say something that’d make me either want to hit him or kiss him.

  Now, I definitely want to kiss him. “You found a katsujo.”

  “What?” Tsua looks down and then into the trees. “Where?”

  Everyone looks down, excited whispers rippling through the group. Miari drops to her knees, her hands pressed to the stone. I glance at them, but quickly go back to watching Tessen.

  “About a half mile below where we’re standing.” Tessen taps the ground with the toe of his boot. If that’s true, there’s no way anyone else will be able to feel it. “We’ve been following it for a while, but I couldn’t be sure what I was feeling until now. It’s closer to the surface here.”

  Which changes so much.

  Just the journey from Ahta’s to Kaisuama and back took us more than a week. Returning to the section of the mountain Ahta called home from here will add more time. Traveling to wherever we need to go next—likely the coast to find or steal a ship that will take us back to Shiara—will take even longer. If we can use a different katsujo to enhance the Imaku rocks and make them powerful enough to kill the bobasu—and yourself, a voice in the back of my mind reminds me—then we can head straight for the coast.

  No matter how hard I try, though, I can’t grab hold of the desosa under our feet. I can feel it on the extreme edge of my awareness, but it’s as intangible as a heatwave in the desert.

  The more I consider what all of this means, the dimmer my excitement gets. “Knowing others exist won’t help if we can’t access them.”

  “True.” Tessen’s nose wrinkles, and he scuffs the rock with his boot. “Lo’a knew the stories about Kaisuama. Maybe she’ll have a way to track a different vein down.”

  I touch the pendant hidden under my clothes, and hope rises a little. She did say I could ask for help. So when we find her hours later, after filling her in on everything that happened, Tessen and I tell her about the deeply buried katsujo. “Is there anything you know of that can help track especially strong concentrations of desosa?”

  Her eyes first widen and then narrow, her gaze seeming to turn inward. Then she shakes her head. “I cannot think of anything, but let me consider it. A friend from another family is better versed in the deeper, older beliefs, and she might be able to give me an answer.”

  As she leaves, I can’t help thinking she does know something. I don’t press, but I find myself at a loss because until we know if it’s possible to track a katsujo, we can’t choose a destination. Which means we can’t prepare for whatever’s next. After what happened with the guard from Mushokeiji, I don’t even want to practice the niadagu spell. Not yet. I could train, or maybe run the perimeter of the camp, but neither holds any appeal. It wasn’t my swordplay that failed Tyrroh, it was my wards. If I’m going to practice anything…

  “Where are the arrows?” I ask.

  “Rai has them,” Tessen says. Only after the words are out do his eyebrows pull low. “Are you worried? Rai knows to keep them well away from you.”

  “That is the exact opposite of what I want, actually.” I spot Rai near one of the bonfires, watching Sanii and Etaro teach Ahta the basics of fighting with an anto.

  “Ahta, can I borrow Etaro for a while?” I ask the little ebet.

  The relief on ey’s face when we walked into the hanaeuu we’la maninaio camp was touching. Then ey’d unexpectedly thrown emself into Sanii’s arms, which was both amusing and disconcerting. I hate to separate em from the two ebets ey seems to be especially attached to, but Etaro is the only one who can do what I need. The child agrees, only a little reluctantly, and Etaro grins as ey jogs to where Sanii is sitting with Tsua and Osshi.

  “What did you need, Nyshin-pa?” Etaro asks. I’m happier than I want to admit that ey didn’t call me nyshin-ma. Tyrroh is gone, but I’m not ready to take his place.

  “I need you to get the arrows from Rai and shoot them as fast as you can at my wards.”

  “What?” The protest comes from four different voices in near-perfect unison.

  Tessen grabs my arm and spins me to face him. “You can’t be serious. Those things almost killed you before you were immortal, Khya. What do you think they’ll do to you now?”

  “I think they’ll hurt, but that I won’t die.” I put my hand over his on my arm. “If the rock alone could kill immortals, we’d be done, wouldn’t we? It won’t kill me, but whatever they did to it made it capable of piercing my wards. I need to learn how to defend against them. I need to keep the rest of you safe if this is what the tyatsu are coming after us with.”

  “Sometimes I hate it when you make sense.” Tessen’s expression scrunches, his war with himself clear on his face. Then, he stills. “Compromise?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You ward something else. A tree or a rock or whatever you like. Ward something that won’t care if an arrow strikes it, and test yourself that way.”

  “Not a bad idea.” A grin twitches up the corners of Rai’s lips. “I knew you kept him around for a reason.”

  “Hush, you’d miss me if I was gone, too,” Tessen shoots back absently, his eyes never leaving my face. “That should still work, shouldn’t it?”

  “It—yes. Actually, it should.” And I should’ve thought of it immediately. I so rarely use my wards to protect anything but people; it’s like I momentarily forgot I could.

  Once my friends believe I’m not on the edge of a dangerously ill-advised decision, it only takes a few minutes to set up a good arena for our tests away from the edge of the camp. Ahta and Sanii follow once Ahta understands what we’re doing. Ey’s fascination with magic is even sharper and more obvious than eir captivation with our two ebets and their weapons.

  “I’ll place a single flat ward in front of this tree.” I point to the trunk. “Start slower than the speed it’d be from a bow, and we’ll see what happens after that.”

  Etaro nods, warily eyeing the two black arrows in eir hands. “One at a time first, too.”

  “Whenever you’re ready.” I carefully raise a ward, still not used to how well I can feel the desosa in the air. And definitely not used to feeling as though it runs in ordered paths alongside my own veins.

  The first arrow raises in front of Etaro until it’s parallel to the ground and level with eir chest. Ey meets my eyes. I nod.

  The arrow flies toward the tree. My ward flares bright and painful at the point of impact. I gasp, feeling an echo of that strike in my chest but managing to refill the hole punched in the ward instead of allowing it to shatter. And then—

  Thunk. The arrow embeds itself in the tree.

  Gritting my teeth, I shake myself out and raise my ward. It hurt, but it was okay. Better than the first strike in the forest. Maybe the susuji’s enhancements weren’t just physical; maybe it strengthened this, too.

  “Again,” I demand, keeping my voice even.

  Etaro raises the second arrow, and at my nod, ey blasts it in my direction.

  Thunk.

  “Bellows.” I rub at my chest though I know the pain is coming from my wards. “Again.”

  �
��You’re gonna remind her even the high-and-mighty immortals have limits before she passes them, aren’t you Tessen?” Rai asks wryly as Etaro magically yanks the arrows out of the wood and floats them back toward emself.

  “Maybe.” He lifts one shoulder, the motion dismissive but his expression proud. “But every time I think she has a limit, it moves, so I guess we’ll have to see how this goes.”

  It goes nowhere good for the next hour. Each arrow Etaro shoots finds it’s mark, and each impact echoes through my chest like it passed through me to get there.

  “More power won’t help.” Tsua’s voice surprises me. I hadn’t noticed her and Zonna approaching. “Focus on the material, instead. Focus on the elements of the spell on those arrows and the feel of the stone. Adjust the layers of the ward, not the power running through them.”

  Layers. Could I layer the wards? I’ve never done that before. Maybe it’s not working because I’m trying to do too much with a single ward. If I slow the arrows down with one ward, maybe I can stop them with another. And if two wards aren’t enough, I can layer more behind them. Assuming I can even hold two complex wards without overloading myself. And assuming I can keep one up after the arrow pierces the first. And assuming this theory has any merit at all.

  I close my eyes and try to picture what I want from the desosa, remembering the feeling of the arrows both when one struck my chest and all the times Etaro has shot them at the tree. But even after I fix the image in my mind and shape a dual layer ward in front of the tree—

  Thunk.

  “Blood and rot,” I mutter, wincing.

  Etaro pulls the arrows out of the tree and floats them back to em. Gripping them in one hand and watching me uncertainly, ey hesitantly asks, “Again?”

  I nod, taking a slow breath and bringing my wards back up.

  Given how this has gone so far, it’s unlikely I’ll make any real progress tonight, but that doesn’t matter. The Ryogans have become the enemy, and this is how the enemy is armed. We’ve already lost one of our squad—no. I’ve already lost one, and I will do everything I can to keep from failing my friends again.

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  On the second day traveling south, I seriously regret our decision to travel south. We’ve been walking straight into an ever-worsening storm, which is what made us choose land over sea. So despite the storms, we keep pushing south rather than heading straight for the western coast, all of us remembering too well how bad it had been weathering the brutal seas onboard Kazu’s ship.

  Seven different times in two days, the wagons get trapped in the mud; Miari, Etaro, and Tsua have to work us out again. Three times in the same period, the massive ukaiahana’lona pulling the wagons injure themselves badly; Zonna has to heal them before we can keep going. Fallen tree limbs block our passage; Etaro and Tsua push them out of the way. The wards I keep up over the caravan are all that stop falling debris from crashing through the wagons’ roofs. Rai and Nairo are the only reason we have a fire at night because everything is too wet to kindle. Sanii and the andofume give us light when no torch will stay lit in the wind.

  “Remind me that it’d be worse on the water.” Rai grits her teeth as the wagons bounce along the narrow, pitted road. It’s the long way, but it’s our only chance to avoid whoever’s spying through the garakyus.

  “It would be worse on the water,” Etaro dutifully repeats. “Because at least here, what’s underneath the mud is solid and won’t try to eat us.”

  “And because we can’t get to a katsujo while we’re sailing. Unless you’ve learned how to breathe underwater,” I add. The thickest veins of power obviously stretch far, but they’re not always reachable. There’s a chance on land that we can dig deep, reach it, and use it. That’s not an option in the ocean. We need to find one before we leave Ryogo.

  But the way conditions continue to deteriorate is seriously worrying. Because of what this weather will mean for us on a ship and what it might mean about Varan. He could be getting closer.

  When we stop for the night, Tessen and I find Soanashalo’a. “Is there any word from the southern coast?”

  “About invading armies?” She shakes her head. “Khya, if I had heard anything like that, you would know. The only thing anyone has mentioned about the south is the storms.”

  Tessen’s attention sharpens. “What about them?”

  “Never have so many storms followed each other like this.” Soanashalo’a circles her hand, the motion like the tumbling of a wave. “One after the other after the other. This is unprecedented. It could be disastrous if it disrupts the planting season or washes fertile soil away from the farms. That is what has Ryogo worried—no one is eyeing the horizon for anything except clear skies.”

  Osshi joined just in time to hear her answer. He clears his throat. “What do you think, Lo’a? Shouldn’t they know what’s coming?”

  We already told you no! I purse my lips to keep my admonition in.

  Despite how often I’ve done it in the past six moons, questioning orders is not usually allowed in Itagami. If he were one of us, I’d be tempted to drag him in front of the andofume and report him for insubordination. As it is, I’m tempted to drag him in front of the andofume and report him for undermining our mission. Instead, I wait to see how Soanashalo’a answers.

  “Nothing is harder for humanity to rise above than fear. If you tell the Jindaini that everything Ryogo has feared for centuries is about to happen, he will likely blame you for bringing it down on their heads.” She pauses. “Or he will not believe a word you say, throw you in prison, and leave us all in danger.”

  Osshi makes a frustrated noise, and I hide a smug smile. Soanashalo’a winces sympathetically. “I know you want to believe in the equity of the Jindaini and his councils, but you have only stood in their grace before. The hanaeuu we’la maninaio have known both faces of the Ryogan leaders. I promise you do not want to meet them while in disfavor.”

  Osshi doesn’t respond, and I can’t read the expression on his face. He’s known her for years, though, nearly his whole life. Hopefully he’ll believe her when he clearly didn’t trust us.

  “Have you found anything to help us locate a katsujo?” I ask.

  Soanashalo’a tilts her head, neither yes nor no. “I need to do some more digging. I should have an answer for you before we pass Atokoredo.”

  Tessen and I ask a few more questions about our path, and everyone else silently listens. Everyone else seems attentive, but the lines on Osshi’s face speak of uncertainty. I try to ignore him. There are more important questions at hand than Osshi’s loyalty.

  As soon as we fill in the others, passing along everything we learned, I turn to Chio. “Why hasn’t Varan landed yet?”

  “Don’t question our rare good luck,” Tessen mutters.

  “I’m serious. It seemed like he was almost ready when we left three moons ago. Nothing’s happened.” I look south at the lightning flashing in the distance. “Even walking from Shiara, the trip shouldn’t have taken them more than a few weeks.”

  “But we left first. All of us changed his plans,” Chio says. “I can’t guess what he’s been doing, but he has to worry the same about us—what we’re doing here, what we’ve found, what we’re doing to defend Ryogo.”

  “So why didn’t he launch immediately and get here as fast as he could?” I ask. “He was the one who taught us that lesson. If your enemy is preparing, don’t let them.”

  “I’m more worried about what happened to Ryzo and the rest of the squad after we left.” Etaro’s long face is pinched with regret.

  I’ve thought about that more than a few times. Etaro’s pained expression makes me want to offer comfort. Even if it’s probably a lie. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

  “I don’t know if that’s true this time.” Natani rubs the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed. “They may not have come with us, but Tyrroh told the truth to everyone he thought he could trust. Everyone who wouldn’t instantly turn him o
ver to Varan. Or tell Varan where Tyrroh planned on escaping to.”

  I’d known that, but everything that’s happened since then pushed it out of my head. “But they didn’t believe him. That’s why they didn’t come.”

  “Don’t you think that might’ve changed after Tyrroh disappeared and Varan made it clear he really did plan to build a bridge to Ryogo?” Rai shakes her head. “You know Ryzo. He’s stubborn and slow to change, but he’s smart enough to see the truth. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ran with as many people as he could convince.”

  “But to where?” I try not to picture Ryzo and the others running for their lives through the rain-flooded desert.

  “Before we left, Denhitra was our only escape,” Natani adds, rubbing a hand over his round face. “Anyone who left Itagami after us would’ve headed there.”

  “But they saw us leave on a ship. They had to know we weren’t in Denhitra.”

  “Not Ryzo. The bobasu and the kaigo saw us leave on a ship,” Tessen corrects. “And there’s not much chance they told the clan.”

  He’s right. Which means that if anyone fled Itagami, they’re almost certainly hiding with the Denhitrans. If they’re still alive.

  My mind spins like a tornado, sucking in all the worries I’ve had since this started and spitting them out faster than I can stop. “What if Varan’s plans fail and our clan drowns in the crossing? Or if they succeed and land here and realize that everything Varan told them was a lie? That will destroy them. And we have no idea what they’ve told the clan about our disappearance. What if they’ve punished Ryzo and the others and—”

  “No. Blood and rot, Khya, stop.” Rai shakes her head, her round face creased with worry.

  I suck my lips between my teeth and bite down, but the thoughts are still spinning. Tessen puts his hand on my elbow, his touch steady.

  “If any of those things do happen, and if we’re all alive at the end of this, then they’ll learn how to get over it in time,” Sanii says. “Don’t you remember? The wounds that don’t kill you may leave scars, but they will heal.”