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Spirit of the Sea

Page 43

by Keith Walter


  “You’re wrong,” Grace asserted, grabbing both sides of Charles’s face and forcing him to look her in the eye. “You’re the reason I’m free, the reason Serin and Leslie and their friends are still with us. You’re a much better man than you give yourself credit for.”

  The closeness was overwhelming. Charles could feel her breath on his lips. His face was on fire under her hands. He closed his eyes to try and block out the urge to dip lower. “I wish I saw myself the way you do,” he mused. He heard her breath hitch at his words. He could feel her warm hands pull his face down. “You deserve so much better than me,” he whispered, “but I don’t think I can live without you.”

  The first moment their lips touched, Charles was sure he had been electrocuted. His eyes shot open as if unable to believe what was happening. Every hair on his body stood to attention as tingling waves rushed out from his lips. He knew nothing in his past was ever as important as this kiss was for his future.

  Grace had wanted to kiss him and his lips were suddenly there. She had only seen a handful of kisses in her life, but knowing the basics was enough. Charles lips were harder than her own, but not unpleasant. They pressed into hers and she felt a lightness in her head, like standing up quickly after a long rest. Their faces pressed together, she could smell something underneath the soap she’d put in each room, a sharp smell, like the burnt air left behind in the wake of a lightning strike. She realized this must be his natural scent—powerful as his body once was. As the kiss deepened, something within her demanded more, more than lips. She wanted to taste him, learn him in a way her lips could not, and before she knew it her tongue snuck out between her lips, running over the surface of his tongue. In that moment, they were just one person.

  Grace pulled back first, surprised at how immediately she felt the need to kiss him again. She wanted those lips and would have them. Her hands were still on his cheeks, so it was easy to pull him toward her. She vaguely noticed Charles’s body beginning to go limp. When she pulled back the second time, she was pleased to find Charles’s almost unconscious smile and half-lidded eyes. She smiled wide in return, giggling as she watched him begin to wake from a stupor. When she tried to pull his lips in again, he resisted.

  Charles placed his hands on both Grace’s shoulders, pushing lightly, hoping she got the message before he gave in again. She stopped pulling him and held him at arm’s length. “I’m pretty sure I was doing it right,” she stated.

  “You were… Gods…you were,” he replied, slowly building up the courage to stand up straight. “That’s the problem.”

  “I don’t understand,” Grace added curiously.

  “That was…incredible, but it is too incredible,” he tried to explain. He shook his head to clear the lingering cobwebs. “If you kiss me again, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.” Grace grinned and started pulling him down again, but he held firm. “No, I mean there’s a carriage from a very important and very dangerous man waiting less than a hundred yards from us. If you kiss me again, we’ll never leave this boat, which will piss off that very dangerous man, and probably get us killed.”

  Grace let go of Charles’s face and slunk back to wrap her arms around herself in a hug. “So you’re worried about dying now? Think maybe there’s something to live for?” she asked jokingly.

  “I already knew, Grace. That’s what I was trying to tell you,” he pleaded.

  She poked his chest hard. “So then you promise not to interfere with the regent?”

  Charles sighed, but nodded. “Yeah, I promise.”

  Grace smiled sweetly. “Good. And when we get out of all of this, I can kiss you again?”

  “Yes, as much as you like,” Charles added with a smirk.

  “Good,” she announced, “then let’s get this over with.”

  Charles waited a beat. “You go on ahead, I’ll be right behind.” Grace pouted and he bit his lip to control himself. “I promise, please.” Grace winked before skipping out the door. Once she was out of sight, Charles fell to the ground, his legs having become jelly. He laid on his back for a long moment, staring up with the kind of smile he forgot he could still produce. He clapped his hands and let out a loud whoop before jumping to his feet and following out the door.

  “We’re ready,” Grace called with a smile as Charles ran to catch up.

  “Is this going to be okay for you?” Leslie asked with concern.

  “What do you mean?” Grace wondered.

  “Well, you’re this ship, right? Can you just walk off and be fine? Wouldn’t that be like sawing yourself into pieces?”

  Grace almost giggled. “My kind are not as singular as yours. My mind will travel in this body, but my power resides here.” She opened her arms to the deck. “It will be…uncomfortable, perhaps, but not harmful.” She scrunched her lips and tapped her chin as she thought of a proper analogy. “It is like undersea exploration. I remain tied to the ship like an air hose, but can travel freely as long as I can stand it. Though I am not sure quite how the Alter Key will affect things.”

  “We’ll have your back,” Serin chimed in, her voice still small from her shame. “If…if you need it.”

  Grace was still hurt by Serin’s outburst, but could recognize the woman trying. “Thank you,” she replied. “But we really should go now.”

  No one wasted time filing down to the dock and into the awaiting carriage. The carriage sped away the moment everyone was inside, and in moments the opulence of the regent’s palace came into view. It rose from the island like a massive stone-and-glass serpent, spiraling toward the sky. A brick-paved road ran along the serpent’s back just the right size for the vehicle. On either side of the road, bony plates intermittently cut off view of the of the surrounding island. Each one was two stories high and had an illuminated mural of the regent’s accomplishments. The carriage driver slowed on purpose to let the riders bask in his master’s splendor. In some murals, the regent stood victorious over a single opponent or army. Others showed him receiving gifts from all manner of creatures.

  As the carriage rounded the great serpent a third time, the road turned sharply. Straight ahead, a fantastic head seemed to explode from the ground, standing another hundred feet in the air with nose to the sky. The carriage slowed as it approached. Those inside barely noticed when they stopped, still in awe of the palace around them. The driver leapt off the top of the carriage expertly and pulled open the side door.

  As the honored guest of the regent, Grace stepped from the carriage first. She cringed slightly when the driver bowed lower, perhaps still smarting from her silent rebuke at the docks. Her own guests followed behind, forming a single-file line. The moment the final fey exited, the driver closed the door quietly and climbed back to his seat. He paused a moment before announcing, “Welcome, honored guest, to his majesty’s home. May your stay be ever blessed.” Grace again ignored the driver, and waited to hear the carriage pull away.

  Once the carriage had turned the first corner, Grace relaxed. This was the first time she had been on land in years, and to be on such a luxurious locale was amazing. Before moving farther toward the serpent’s neck, she spun slowly to take in the view that encompassed half the island. She could see the dark clouds and lightning circling and remembered the horrible storm raging outside. Then she turned her attention to the docks, illuminated in the moonlight. It was like an out-of-body experience—she still had her strength, could still tap into most of the power she normally could, but the goings-on of those still aboard was lost to her. She didn’t like the numbness, but the pressure of what lay ahead quickly forced her to put it out of her mind.

  Turning, she eyed her four companions and nodded solemnly. She began walking toward a grand staircase spiraling up through the neck to a dragon-like head at the top. Stepping on the first stair, orbs of light rose and hung overhead to illuminate the way. Every step was gilded and carved with swirling designs. Blood-red fabric covered the center of each step adding to the decadent atmosphere.
/>   Barclay coughed to get the attention of his comrades. He looked from Charles to Serin to Leslie pointedly. “Remember, only speak when spoken to. Only respond with what is asked, never more.” He nodded at Grace before adding, “Do not, under any circumstances, interrupt or speak casually with the regent’s honored guest.” The words were meant to be calm, reminders rather than edicts, but he couldn’t keep the nervousness out of his voice.

  They reached the top of the staircase and hesitated on the last step. Their journey had brought them inside the head of the dragon. At the base, a grand open floor was filled with lounging chairs and small tables. Each table held clear containers with no doubt the finest drink money could buy. The dragon’s nose was tilted up, and another straight staircase led to a smaller upper floor. The upper floor had only a single chair, a throne perched in front of the dragon’s open mouth. The throne itself must have been twenty feet tall. The bright red fabric clashed with the shimmering metallic inlay. Iridescent runes throbbed in sequence as if alive. The same giant from before sat casually at the base as if the whole scene wasn’t incomprehensible in its splendor.

  The regent beckoned the group forward and waited for all to reach the upper floor before speaking. “My dear Grace, I am pleased with the expediency with which you arrived. I hold you to have honored our dealings in good faith.”

  Grace quickly realized that the regent had them exactly where he wanted them. She thought for a moment before replying, “Regent, I would have arrived even sooner, but I am left in awe by the magnificence of your home. Both here and your domain.” She gestured to the clear view behind his throne. She didn’t yet know this man well, but she understood the nobility’s love for flattery.

  The regent stood up from his throne and descended three steps so he could be on the same level as his guest. “Your compliment is greatly appreciated. So often those invited here are consumed by attempts to broach business.” A childlike wonder lit his face, “I find it is necessary to take a step back and enjoy the raw beauty that surrounds us.”

  He walked to the edge of the dragon’s lips and stepped out into the open air. Magic condensed into his feet and held him aloft as if an invisible floor stretched ahead. Spinning on his heels, the regent had a look Grace had not been ready for. It looked like genuine delight. “What is the point of immortality if you lock away your freedom?” His hands waved in the air, conducting a symphony only he could hear. “Schedules, societal expectations, even morals—everything tries to restrain our true nature. The old masters wanted to lock themselves away from this brilliantly changing world. Such a pity.”

  His eyes glowed and he beckoned Grace to join him. Nervously, she stepped out and willed herself to float. The regent smiled from ear to ear and held out a hand cordially. “It pained me to abide by your mother’s decision, most especially when young Ulsimore unknowingly brought you to his dock. But I knew that a soul such as yours could never be contained.” He looked down as he spoke before grasping her much smaller hand in his own. “Imagine my elation in seeing you now, free as the wind and defiant of all but your own will.”

  “If it is half as much as my own elation in being free, then I will count it worthy,” Grace replied soberly. She could feel the passion in his words, but her mother had always warned her that passion is just another tool to manipulate. Even if the regent was being genuine, she could not afford to let her guard down.

  “Worthy indeed,” the giant smirked. Turning, he led Grace back into the dragon’s waiting maw. “I must say, your journey of freedom warms my heart. You would not bow to the Union, would not bow to your mother, and—” he took in the small woman’s determined eyes “—you will not bow to me.” He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound like a rolling barrel. “How I wish I could have seen the faces of the Union’s forces when you invoked Alignak’s wrath.”

  “I am glad your own home was not affected,” Grace replied sincerely.

  “Ah, yes. I am truly blessed.” The regent release her hand and turned to look out at the storm again. “The Union would kill her if they thought it within their power. Such short-sighted ignorance. They cannot see the majesty, the beauty, of such a creature. They do not realize such magnificence need not be their enemy, that it may even be of service.”

  Grace furrowed her eyebrows as her gaze locked on the regent. “You cannot mean to tell me you are Alignak’s master.”

  “Oh, no, no,” the giant replied, another rumbling chuckle escaping his lips. “She is freedom incarnate, powerful enough for even the old masters to take notice. None could ever command her. But—” he raised a giant finger “—that does not mean she cannot see a kindred spirit in one such as I. That does not mean we cannot come to an understanding. Like the old masters, you can train even your betters with the right offerings, the right praise, and the right respect. Alignak asks nothing of me, but I offer it, because she is deserving of my respect. In kind, she has eventually decided I am worthy of this small boon.”

  “I am continually impressed, Regent,” Grace said with conviction. She was truly awed that anyone could gain favor from what so many saw as nothing but a force of nature. And yet, she found herself becoming more antsy. She had come to negotiate, but so far the regent had spoken nothing but pleasantries. Even here, under the regent’s protection, she could not presume she had unlimited time.

  The giant man caught Grace’s eyes and led her back to the group, who had remained stock still. He left her there and returned to his throne. “I can still see the youth in your eyes, Grace—a burning desire to move these proceedings along. I tell you, there is no rush. Your mother will not find you here. Indeed,” he said, and smiled mischievously, like a child with a secret, “I believe I could even assist you in getting out from under her clutches.”

  The offer was plain enough, and she knew that he knew it was the best and only offer she could receive. “That would be quite the kindness,” Grace stated casually, playing along. “Such a kindness would be worthy of reward. How could I repay you?”

  “Oh, there are many ways to repay kindness,” the giant began. “I find myself in great need of your particular skills. As a non-participant in the war, and with your great stature, you would be welcome in the realms of the Ancients.” He waved his hands around, emphasizing the splendor of his hal., “The Union is quite self-sufficient, but there are certain items that can only be made elsewhere. As the Union would never admit it desires anything from the outside world, it is up to me to provide these trinkets of convenience and amusement to the people.”

  Grace pulled her eyebrows down in thought. Even if she intended to dismiss this first offer out of hand, she knew she had to keep up appearances. “You would bring me into your service then?” she asked. As far offers went, this was quite palatable. The work would be limited in time, certainly, and it was perfectly reasonable to request even if they were not at the regent’s mercy. This was especially odd because the first offer was always for show, a primer before the real business began. To offer something reasonable or accept the first offer was a sign of a poor negotiator. She was certain the regent was not a poor negotiator.

  “Oh, no, no,” the regent soothed, “I would consider it a partnership. You would benefit as much as I in every way.” Looking down, the giant pretended to pull a piece of lint from his pants. Head tilted down, he raised just one eye as he continued, “Of course, with such important work, I would only trust my own crew to accompany you. These fey you have brought would need to be replaced. I could, of course, take them in myself and rid you of any further responsibility on their behalf.”

  So there is was, Grace mused. The regent was likely one of the better masters among the nobles. She noticed the focused but unafraid looks of his subjects. The regent was a decadent man, and he likely spread that wealth generously among his people. Further, his candor with Barclay implied he was a pleasant, though strict, ruler. But he had caught something different with Grace, she was sure. He had discerned her much more personal relationship with th
e crew. Normally, the lesser fey would not be considered part of a negotiation, which is why they were just a throw-in here. But she knew that he knew, the crew were the real affront to this offer.

  Grace took a measured breath, keeping her face impassive. “Quite reasonable, Regent, but you must forgive me. I will not accept any position where I am not in complete control.”

  “Such a pity,” he replied, a hint of feigned sadness in his voice. “Though I can see how the daughter of the great Entregon would feel affronted by such an offer.”

  “Is my mother to be part of these proceedings?” Grace asked sharply. The first offer was made and rejected. Bringing her mother in was a different matter itself.

  The giant leaned back in his throne. He elbows dug firmly in the high armrests and he threaded his fingers together smoothly. A smile remained on his face, but the twinkle of actual amusement died out. He was finally ready for business. “Let us be plain, then,” he stated. “My business forces me to entangle myself with your mother. She is not part of this negotiation, but I must be cognizant of all pieces.”

  “I am not my mother’s enemy, nor am I her weakness,” Grace declared. “She will not be swayed by any attempts to use me.”

  “Good,” the regent barked, “then we can proceed unhindered. It is quite unusual for the Union, as authoritarian and reactionary as it is, to marshal such force for a handful of the lesser and a ship full of converts. My intelligence confirms they did not know you were involved, and yet they had called the Entregon before your escapades even began. That is the definition of excessive.”

  He leaned forward again, fingers flexed beneath his chin. “You are carrying something of supreme value to the Union. I want it. Give it to me, and I will see you safely wherever you wish to go.”

 

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