by Tara West
“Get off me!” she cried. “Simeon, help!”
Simeon tried to shoo the demons away, but there were too many.
“Pixies only way,” Rení said.
“No.” She buried her face against Simeon’s chest. “Forget it.” Relief swept over her when he shielded her from the monsters.
“Dianna, please,” he soothed. “Let them take you.”
“Are you in earnest? What if they drop me?”
He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “They won’t drop you.”
She got lost in his gold eyes for a moment before pushing away from him. “Don’t use your magic on me.”
“Stone not come down. You go up.”
She glared at Rení. How could she trust him or his pixies?
“Look at me,” Simeon commanded. “Calm yourself.”
Perhaps he was right, and she should trust the pixies. “You promise?” she asked, though somewhere in the back of her mind, she suspected he was using magic to persuade her.
“Yes.” He waved at the buzzing monsters that hovered over her head. “Please let the pixies take you to the stone.”
She relented. On one hand, she was angry with herself for caving into Simeon so easily. On the other, she was relieved she would no longer have to continue this fight.
The stone in her vest pocket warmed and throbbed like a heartbeat. My sister is up there. I sense her.
“Ah,” she mumbled, “so you’re finally talking again.” She wondered if Sindri didn’t trust her or if she only made appearances when she had something to gain.
Before she realized what has happening, hundreds of winged creatures grabbed onto her vest and arms, lifting her off the ground. She was too frightened to look down as they ascended higher and higher, until they reached the ceiling. There was a shelf with a mound covered in what appeared to be green snake moss. She had seen snake moss in her village of Adolan. It was so thick and impenetrable, the only way to get rid of it was to burn it.
Not trusting the pixies, she grabbed onto the ledge and dug her feet into narrow crevices beneath it. Though the little demons still held onto her back, their wings buzzing angrily, at least she’d have something to hold onto should they tire of supporting her.
Neriphene, Sindri’s cry echoed in Dianna’s head. My beloved sister, it is me, Sindri.
The moss lit up in a brilliant emerald green. Sindri, is it really you? I’d lost hope of ever seeing my sisters again.
The stone in Dianna’s pocked trembled like a feeble branch in a wind storm. I am here.
The moss turned from green to red, then faded to black. This witch looks like the ice bitch.
It is her daughter, Dianna, Sindri answered. A good witch, as far as I can tell.
“As far as you can tell?” she snapped. The crevice she’d wedged her foot in gave way, and she lost purchase. “What else must I do to prove myself?”
Saving the mortals from the voracious pixies was a start. Sindri’s stone pulsed with each word. I am simply being cautiously optimistic.
“Neriphene,” Dianna implored, “I need you to help us overthrow The Seven. They have imprisoned the mortals of the Shifting Sands, forcing them into slavery.”
And you care about these mortals? Neriphene asked skeptically.
Another foot gave way, and she was forced to dig her knees into the wall. “I do.”
There is something you aren’t telling me, Neriphene accused. Her sister remained suspiciously silent.
“Eris has taken my brother captive,” Dianna ground out, struggling to hold on while the pixies made sibilant hissing sounds. “I’m afraid she’ll kill him if I don’t stop her, but I can’t do it alone.”
And who is to say you won’t wield our power for evil?
Gah! Neriphene was even less trusting than Sindri. “I won’t.” Sweat beaded Dianna’s brow as her knees began to slide. “I swear it.”
Neriphene pulsed a deep red. I need a blood promise.
Why didn’t I think of that? Sindri giggled. You were always so clever, sister.
“A blood promise?” She didn’t like the sound of that. She shrieked when a pixie bit her ear. “Ouch!” Her hand flew to her ear, which throbbed with a vengeance. Elements curse that little demon!
Smear the blood across your heart and repeat after me, Neriphene commanded.
She rubbed her hand on her chest, then grabbed the ledge again, alarmed at the amount of blood coating her fingers.
I, Dianna, daughter of Madhea. Neriphene pulsed green, then blue.
She rolled her eyes. “I do not consider her my mother.”
Say it!
She heaved an exasperated sigh. If the pixies didn’t drive her to madness, the stones certainly would. “I, Dianna, daughter of Madhea.”
Vow to only harness the magic of the goddess stones for the destruction of darkness and in the defense of light. I will not let my vanity or sense of self-preservation prevent me from protecting the innocent from harm. I offer the blood of my body to the Elements in recompense should I break my vow.
After she repeated the words, a tingly feeling originated in her chest and spread outward. She peered under her tunic, shocked to see a slight discoloration around the flesh where she’d smeared the blood.
“What happened to my heart?”
Nothing. Neriphene chuckled. So long as you don’t break your vow.
Dianna stifled a groan. “Will you come out now?”
Yes, the stone answered. It pulsed red, then orange.
Dianna arched back when the snake moss caught fire, then disappeared in a cloud of smoke, revealing a pale stone that looked much like Sindri.
She fanned her face, choking on the acrid smoke before reaching for the stone.
Place me in your pocket beside my sister, Neriphene commanded.
When she slipped the stone inside her vest, they both glowed white, warming each other. She was slightly envious of the sisters and thought of the love she and Jae could have shared had her sister survived. Jae’s death was even more reason for her to defeat The Seven and the goddesses, for she couldn’t stomach the thought of another mortal dying at the hands of vengeful magic.
* * *
Under a cloak of darkness, Alec and the others tiptoed after Mari. She hovered above the guard sitting on a bench, going through a stolen pack. He stopped long enough to swat her, completely missing the dwarf who clubbed him across the back of his head with a sickening crunch. The soldier was right about one thing; dwarves were strong.
Alec grimaced as he slinked past the guard who had fallen face-first onto the floor. The back of his skull was split open, his brains oozing onto the wooden planks. He felt no remorse for the soldier. ’Twas the same boar-faced broot who’d called Gorpat carnivus bait. He knew Grim took paternal satisfaction in splitting him open.
Alec slipped his quiver out of the dead man’s grip and strung his bow. He notched an arrow just as two burly guards came down the steps. Grim stepped from the shadows and clubbed one in the stomach. Alec unleashed an arrow, striking the second guard in the throat. Markus would be proud, Alec thought. Khashka and his men dragged the soldiers into the shadows.
“Save a few for me,” Ryne grumbled.
Alec ignored him, notching another arrow as they silently crept up the narrow ladder.
When they reached the top, Grim cracked the hatch, peering out onto the deck. He quickly shut it. “There are too many.”
Alec was not to be deterred. “We either die fighting them here, or we die when we reach Eris.”
“No. They are wearing armor, and they outnumber us three to one. We need more men.”
He pushed the others back and pointed to another ladder leading down. “I think that’s where the rowers are. If we free them first, we have a better chance of defeating the soldiers above deck.”
Alec and the others reluctantly agreed. “So what do we do?” Alec asked.
“I will go down and frighten them,” Mari answered.
Grim shook his head. “They won’t be frightened of you, child. They all know you exist.” He held up a finger, looking as if the wheels in his brain were churning out a brilliant plan. “Fetch a dead soldier,” he said to Ryne and Filip.
They walked away, mumbling, then returned with the man Grim had split open.
“Good,” Grim said. “Now throw him down the ladder.”
They tossed the body. Alec shuddered when it landed with a sickening thump and a crash, then cringed when he heard loud screaming, followed by the familiar sound of steel slicing through the air.
No sooner had the soldiers raced up the ladder than Alec and Grim disposed of them with clubs and arrows.
Grim called down to the rowers, and they answered back all was clear. After the rowers were freed of their shackles, they armed themselves with swords.
“Now we fight.” Grim winked. “Stay behind me, boy,” he said to Alec as they climbed back up the ladder.
The soldiers were already descending from above deck, no doubt alarmed when the vessel had slowed. Soon, all was chaos. Alec dropped his bow and arrow in favor of a club, doing his best to fight off the enemy, though he was no match for their strength. If it hadn’t been for Grim, Alec would have succumbed to a number of soldiers. The dwarf was fast and powerful, clubbing their kneecaps with sickening crunches.
A platoon of soldiers poured into the hull, wielding giant axes and flaming arrows. He had barely enough time to defend himself against one enemy when another would attack, pushing him farther from Grim. Ryne and Filip had been backed into a corner, steel striking steel. Filip was losing strength, badly bleeding from a wound in his side.
When Serpentine Voice knocked his sword from his hand and forced him against the hull with his axe held high, Alec knew there was no escape. Grim was too far away to come to his aid, and Ryne was fighting for his life. Filip had slid down the wall with a sword protruding from his gut. Time slowed as his opponent charged, the axe descending toward Alec’s forehead. Of one thing he was grateful: his death would be swift, for the gleaming metal was sharpened to a razor-sharp edge.
The ship tilted as if they’d struck a wave. An odd breeze tickled his nape when the soldier fell over a barrel that had come loose, his axe falling from his hand.
Fight, boy, the breeze whispered. Odd how that voice sounded like his dead father. His imagination had to be playing tricks on him.
Alec reached for the axe as the soldier jumped to his feet. When his opponent lunged for him, Alec ducked and swung the blade into the man’s gut. He lurched forward with a grunt, then glared at Alec with that one cloudy eye. He jerked the axe out of his stomach, groaning as blood and guts spilled out. Alec fell back against the hull, screaming when his enemy raised his weapon, then buried it in the wall beside his head before falling to his knees. When he kicked the soldier hard, he fell on his back, gaping up at the ceiling, the swirling mist in his eye turning a cold, stale gray.
He snatched the axe out of the wall and rushed toward the fighting. The bulk of the soldiers had pushed back the group of islanders surrounding Khashka and his spirit child.
As the soldiers were about to reach her father, Mari cried out. “Stop!” Her eerie, hollow voice ricocheted in Alec’s head and the walls and barrels rattled as if a giant shook them.
The soldiers flattened against the planks, dropping their weapons. Alec wiped sweat off his brow and exchanged a shocked look with Grim. How had she done that? He’d little time to contemplate what had happened before Khashka’s group raced through the ship, driving their swords into the chests of the hapless soldiers. Though cries for mercy rent the air, the slaves showed them no compassion, cutting down every last one.
“Elements save their souls,” Alec whispered, wiping blood on his tunic, and followed Grim above deck, unable to witness any more carnage.
Grim motioned for him to hide behind a pallet of crates while four nervous soldiers tried to wrestle a small boat off the deck.
“Ready?” Grim whispered.
“But they are leaving,” Alec said. “Can’t we spare them?”
“And risk them alerting the sea witch?”
He knew the dwarf was right, loathe though he was to shoot a retreating man. He notched an arrow while Grim slowly snuck toward them. The soldiers’ backs were to them. When Grim was in place, Alec fired off one arrow, then another, both hitting their marks. They dropped like baby sparrows, falling from a tree. Grim finished off the other two, clubbing them so hard, they were flung overboard from the blunt force.
“We need to find my pearl,” Grim said as Alec joined him.
They ran around to the stern. The sleeping giant was being towed on a huge wooden barge, her arms and legs bound in thick chains, darts protruding all over her. So this was how they controlled her? By shooting her up with sleeping darts? Alec feared the giant would have a brutal awakening.
“I need to get to her,” Grim cried. “Help me.” He grabbed a cord of thick rope, twisting it into a noose around the ropes that had been fastened to the underside of a cannon, stretching from the stern to Gorpat’s barge. Then he put his hands through the noose and tugged. “It’s sturdy. Give me a push,” he said to Alec.
He helped the dwarf onto the railing of the ship, then pushed him off. He sailed down the rope, landing on his daughter’s foot, then began picking darts out of her legs. “My poor pearl,” he bemoaned, flinging darts into the ocean.
The giant stirred but did not wake as Grim walked up the length of her body, plucking needles out of her, like Alec and Markus had once done when their old hound had been poked full of porcupine quills. The hound died of fever two days later. He sent up a prayer to the Elements that Gorpat would recover.
The other slaves came above deck. Khashka was clearly in charge, giving orders as if he’d been manning ships his whole life. Then again, Alec knew little about him. Mayhap he had.
The slaves alternated between hooting and hollering, patting Khashka on the back, and dropping bodies overboard. Alec fought the urge to cringe with each thunk and splash, as they bounced off the sides of the ship on the way down.
From the corner of his eye, Alec saw one of Khashka’s kinsmen approaching. Though Alec knew him to be a man, his small, wiry physique and cropped hair made him look more like a child.
“Nice work with the arrows, son.”
Alec shifted uncomfortably, feeling like a flower beneath the wilting heat of the midday sun under the man’s assessing gaze. “Thanks. I had a good tutor.”
“Thorne,” the man said.
Alec took his outstretched hand, surprised at his firm grip. “Alec.”
“Alec, I have heard from your blue companion that your sister is Madhea’s daughter.” He arched a thin brow. “Is this true?”
“Aye, ’tis true,” His shoulders slumped when he thought about his sister, hoping her dragon protector was keeping her safe. “But Dianna’s not like the ice witch.”
Thorne arched back as if Alec had been infected with the plague. “You are brave to call your goddess a witch.”
“Madhea is no goddess of mine,” he grumbled.
Thorne eyed Alec closely. “Is it also true Dianna has flown Madhea’s ice dragon to the Shifting Sands?”
He was forced to look away under the penetrating weight of Thorne’s stare. “Aye, to find a safe haven for our people.”
Thorne smiled, revealing a mouthful of decaying teeth. “May the Elements guide her to safety.”
“Thank you, but she is a smart witch. I’m sure she will prevail.” Alec was proud of his sister, not just of her magical abilities, but her kindness and compassion toward all mortals.
Thorne’s gaze locked on Alec, his lips barely moving when he spoke. “What makes her so smart?”
“She provided for herself and our youngest brother through two harsh winters,” Alec answered, suddenly feeling the need to put as much distance as possible between himself and this man.
“But she must have strong magic, too?”
> “As strong as any witch, I suppose. Why do you ask so many questions about my sister?” Alec snapped, tired of the old man’s prying.
“Curiosity is all.” Thorne stepped back, looking contrite. “It’s not every day I meet the brother of Madhea’s daughter. I presume you have the same father and different mothers?”
“Aye.” Alec spoke through gritted teeth.
Thorne nodded toward the bodies his kinsmen dumped over the side of the ship. “Those soldiers might have been children of Aloa-Shay.”
“What do you mean?” Though Alec suspected he knew the answer, he prayed he was wrong.
“Where do you think Eris gets her soldiers? She steals them when they are boys, many from fishing villages like Aloa-Shay.”
He swallowed. Eris was an evil goddess, which made him even more terrified to be stuck on her vessel. “Truly?”
“Truly.” Thorne pulled down the neckline of his tunic, revealing an intricate tattoo on his shoulder. It was a horned whale, exactly like the one on Zier’s shield. “Eris’s marking,” Thorne said. “I was stolen from Aloa-Shay when I was a child.”
Great goddess! To have been captured not once, but twice by the evil goddess and lived to tell the tale! “How did you escape?”
“I had the Elements on my side.” He flashed a sideways smile. “That, and I’m a damn good swimmer.”
Alec’s heart plummeted when he thought of all the soldiers he’d killed, especially those he’d shot in the back. What if they hadn’t intended to return to Eris? What if they’d planned to reunite with their families? He’d spent most of his life fighting his brother’s instinct to become a monster like their father, and now he was no better than a monster, killing fleeing men.
Thorne went to his kinsmen when they hauled up four of their own, wiping away tears and clutching each other’s shoulders while they said their farewells, throwing their fallen friends overboard more gracefully. When Ryne hauled Filip up the ladder, Alec went to help him with the body.
Ryne laid Filip on a pallet and mopped sweat off his brow with a bloodied rag. He leveled Alec with a look so severe, the flesh on Alec’s forearms and neck rose.