by AB Bradley
Sander thrust Iron into a corner and took up position before him, sword out. When did Sander draw his sword? The man backed Iron against the corner and formed a wall of flesh between him and the room. One arm still on his weapon, the man began gathering sacks of grain and rice while he muttered curses under his breath.
“I can barely see over your shoulder,” Iron said.
“I’m not trying to give you a nice view. No matter what happens, don’t say a word. Not a single word. Got that?”
Iron swallowed the lump in his throat and watched as his master continued building the barrier around them. Whoever this Caspran was, both Sander and Ayska feared him. Sander didn’t speak further, leaving Iron alone to the rhythm of his thundering heart. Outside, shrieking bird calls muted the crew’s cries. It was only then, at the peak of his terror, that Iron realized someone watched them.
CHAPTER NINE
Brother Caspran
Caspran’s birds shrieked their chaotic cries above the ship while the crew shouted nervously through the din. The Scarlet Widowmaker lurched as it struck farther from Skaard’s icy shores, plowing into the Sapphire Sea’s rough waters. Despite the chaos and the noise, Iron’s attention fixed on other, quieter things. He stared at the figure huddled in the room’s opposite corner. Light in the ship’s belly didn’t reveal a single detail of the person save an outline of wide shoulders and a broad brow.
Iron’s imagination filled the blank with Elof’s features. He swallowed the bile lurching in his throat and pressed his back against the corner.
He felt those eyes on him, on them. Sander, still oblivious to the figure, continued yanking bags and boxes and barrels before them. A few more, and they’d have a makeshift wall to hide behind.
It wouldn’t matter anyway. Ayska must have tricked them—Iron knew something was off about that woman. Like a fool, he’d let the trap close around them. No, not like a fool, like an ignorant child. He should’ve pushed the pirate woman away. He should have seen through her lies in the inn.
Iron grabbed Sander’s shoulder and pulled him back. “Someone’s in here watching us.” His stomach twisted as the ship lurched, the crashing sigh of a wave exploding against the prow.
Sander tensed, his eyes washing around the room until they fixed on the shadowed figure. “Well fuck. I see him now.”
“Ayska did this on purpose. I knew that woman rubbed me the wrong way.”
“Maybe. Be ready.”
The ship pitched again and slammed against a wave. A long moan escaped from the stranger, pained and frightened but low, very low. It might have been a monster. Who knew what creatures Ayska collected during her travels?
Another whimper emanated from the figure. Movement disturbed the shadowy mound.
“Should we attack him?” Iron asked.
“No. Not unless he makes a hostile movement toward us. Murderers may be sinners, but Sinner’s men aren’t murderers. Life is life. Take it only to save it.”
Incomprehensible murmuring came next. Maybe the thing hungered for their flesh. Iron read of strange creatures and minor demons who put on the form of children to lure their next meal into their wicked dens. This living shadow might be one of them.
For what seemed like hours, he stared at the hunchback, and he knew the figure stared back. It was an odd thing to feel a stare for so long without seeing it; but even cloaked in darkness, the weight of those eyes was undeniable.
Sander shot straight and leaned back, pressing Iron hard against their corner. “Listen to that.”
Iron frowned and pried his attention from the other occupant, but only for a moment. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly. No birds. No crew.”
A chill worked up his spine as one realization sunk inside the cold pit of his stomach. “Either the sea’s turned to glass or we aren’t moving.”
“Good observation. Now, let’s not panic,” Sander said, only half-speaking to Iron. “Tell me. What does this mean?”
Thinking logically alleviated fear, and so Iron calmly weighed the facts before him. “We’ve stalled on the seas and the birds are silent. We’re not moving, or if we are, it’s slow as ice melt in the spring. Those birds were lightning fast. Either they’ve moved on, gone back, or they’re perched on the ship.”
“And what do the facts tell you?”
He closed his eyes and let his imagination float into the world. He often did this, never knowing why, but he trusted his instincts, and he trusted his mind would take him to the most rational conclusion. Living in the wilderness since an infant, he learned no predator was more dangerous than panic. So instead of letting panic sink its claws into his heart, he let his mind fly.
As his imagination ascended, he saw the Scarlet Widowmaker with Ayska and her crew. They clustered in the middle of the deck, surrounding their captain with swords drawn. They regarded their surroundings with a healthy dose of nervous terror. Every mast, every rope, every railing on the ship held a watchful bird. The creatures had pointed beaks the color of a sunrise. Black edged their snowy wings and capped their eyes like Sander’s hood, but otherwise sported only a feathery white coat. They watched the crew. They waited for their master’s command.
“They’re out there, right now.” Iron sucked in a breath and opened his eyes. “The king’s men are boarding, aren’t they?”
Sander nodded. “Let’s hope it’s just his men. If the serpents are with them. Hells, if Caspran is with them…”
A shudder rippled down Sander’s back. A heavy thud hit the deck above. Measured footfalls followed. Muted voices drifted through the planks, calm at first, but increasing to an angry crescendo.
Silence.
And then, another heavy thud on the planks. Sander winced, but Iron didn’t know why. He didn’t have the courage for words and only had a mind for home.
The door leading above deck smashed open with such force, it tore from the hinges and flew down the stairs, landing in a splintered heap on the floor. Light from the winter sky streamed through the doorframe, broken by a figure descending.
The intruder wore white leather bands wrapped tightly around his lithe frame. Mist rolled in gentle tongues around him, accentuating the aura of power emanating from the stranger. Dagger points glinted between the bands of his trappings like the scales of a fish. He wore a masked hood that hid his features from the world while the cold hiss of his breath broke the quiet as it slid from his lips.
Sander pulled them both down behind their makeshift hideout with all the speed and sound of an owl’s blink. Iron peeked around his master’s shoulder and through an angled crack between a sack of rice and a crate packed with potatoes.
Ayska stumbled down the ramp, eyes frantically scanning the empty hammocks. “Please, Brother Caspran.”
“Quiet,” Caspran said in a voice more serpentine than man. Caspran’s tone gave Iron goose bumps, and he found himself slinking deeper into the dark.
A familiar moan filled the cabin as the hidden figure lurched toward Ayska. Caspran hissed, and a floating dagger whipped into his hand. Ayska screamed and ran forward, throwing herself before the mysterious person who had shared the shadows with Iron and Sander only moments before.
“No!” Ayska screamed, throwing her hands wide. “Please, have mercy, Brother Caspran, she will do you no harm. In the name of the great and glorious Serpent and the Sun he will raise, please show us mercy.”
Her? Iron blinked. The stranger in the shadows had been a she all the time? But her size…
Now in the light, Iron could see the woman’s features. She had skin like Ayska’s but kept her hair cropped nearly to the scalp. Her narrow eyes had a distant look in them, her wide, strong chin supporting full lips that hung askew. Her nose bent awkwardly above those lips, a sign it once broke and healed without being properly set.
She lingered behind Ayska, hands that could have put the former Elof to shame gently placed upon the captain’s shoulders.
Bless the Six, Iron thought. Thos
e hands could crush Ayska like a heel on a dried twig.
Yet, when Iron looked into the woman’s distant eyes, he saw no malice, no anger, no rage. The soul behind them looked upon the world through a long and lonely tunnel.
Caspran’s dagger whistled from its orbit and hung before Ayska. Its deadly edge spun slowly, centered on Ayska’s right eye.
“And what beast is this?” Caspran asked. He turned his back to Iron and Sander, attention placed upon the gentle giant.
“She’s no beast, Brother Caspran. She’s simply different. She—she sees the world in a different manner than you and I. Her name is Kalila, and she would never do harm to any other.”
“Not intentionally, of course,” Caspran quipped. He held his hands tight against the small of his back and rocked on his heels. “So this is why you tried outrunning my ships? You feared I would kill this…” He cocked his head. “…This beast?”
“Yes, Brother Caspran.” Ayska eyed the dagger pointed at her pupil. Sweat beaded on her temples. “Few understand her condition. I feared—”
“I did not have the intellect? If you could understand, why do you assume I could not? We occupy different planes of existence, you and I. You trying to impart a lesson to me is like a rat trying to teach a poet how to rhyme. Laughable.”
“Forgive my idiocy. I did not mean to offend.” Ayska pressed her arms against her sides, her eyes widening as the dagger approached. “Forgive us all. We are loyal servants of the High King, Lord of All, Rider of the Glittering Serpent and Destroyer of the Six. We serve him faithfully.”
“You do now? Show me. Bow.”
A lump traveled down Ayska’s throat. She nodded and prostrated herself, palms flat on the floorboards. “As you command.”
Caspran leapt on Ayska’s bent back. She grunted, arms trembling, but didn’t move. He murmured to himself and inspected the other woman, the back of his knuckles caressing Kalila’s wide jaw. She flinched, shook and chewed her quivering lip.
“What an interesting creature.” He sighed, bounding backward onto the floor. “But I do believe you’re correct. She is no danger. That beast’s mind broke long ago.”
Each time Caspran called Kalila beast or creature, a little seed of rage sprouted in Iron’s heart. Any fool could see the childlike innocence in the woman’s eyes. Hells, she practically glowed with her innocence. Sinner save him, he couldn’t let this wicked man continue.
Iron tensed and leaned forward, but his master’s hand smacked Iron’s chest and pushed him back. Iron struggled for a breath before relenting. He hated this. Hated it. Ayska panted on the floor while Kalila stood unarmed and harmless before Caspran’s wicked magic and tongue while the two most powerful people on the ship hid like cowards behind bags and boxes.
Iron clenched his fists. Ayska’s not the rat. We are.
“Tell me,” Caspran said, rotating to the rest of the cabin. “I see why you fled Ormhild, but why did you come to the…what do they call it…unconquered city?” He chuckled. “Unconquered. A name that will no longer apply soon enough.”
Ayska tried to stand but Caspran whipped around and raised a finger at her. “I don’t think so. Stay on your knees. You should remember how, judging by the slave brands on your arms.”
She swallowed but did as he commanded. Her gaze swept over the cabin, pausing only for a heartbeat where Sander and Iron hid.
“We received word that High King Sol desired something in Skaard. My comrade in Ormhild—Elof was his name—sent word to me since I was nearby. I came looking to please our king, but it turned out to be a lie.”
Caspran folded his arms. “A lie? You tell me my birds carried a lie beneath their wings?”
“No, of course not you, Brother Caspran!” Ayska crossed her hands over her chest and dipped her chin. “Elof set a trap for me. He wanted my ship for himself and plotted to use Kalila against me. He nearly succeeded.”
“Clearly he did not. And what has become of this Elof of Ormhild?”
Ayska’s lips pressed into a point. Iron heard her breath rush from her nostrils as she looked up and met Caspran’s gaze. “I killed him. I sliced his throat and listened to him choke on his blood for the lies he told.”
Iron nearly believed the story himself. It was a good lie. The ones threaded with truth often were. He didn’t know if that put him any more at ease with this strange Rabwian woman or made her true motives more suspect.
Caspran smirked. He opened his palm, and the glinting blade returned to its master, slipping within the folds of his wraps. “I like your style. To be honest, I think you weren’t harsh enough on this Elof. Then again, I could not hope one of your kind to ever meet my expectations.”
“What—what will you do now?” she asked.
“Well, your friend was correct on the account of my birds’ message. There is something in Skaard I need, and I believe it to be in Ormhild.”
He strolled to the stairs and began his ascent. He paused at the last stair and turned to Ayska. “But if it is not, you would serve me and your king well to keep an eye out.”
“And what should I have my eye on?”
“Two men; one in the middle of his years and one fresh into his manhood. The elder one has a scar on the side of his jaw. He wears black and favors a hood. I suspect the other also cloaks himself in black. They are heretics who fancy themselves priests of the old religion. They have cast aside the Serpent Sun and seek to harm our king. They spew the heresy of the gods High King Sol destroyed.”
I guess he was too good for Good King Sol, Iron surmised. More power, better titles. That was the way of royalty. But this fall of the Six Iron kept hearing, that concerned him. No king on Urum could destroy the gods. The alp could not destroy them. The titans couldn’t even do the deed. This Godfall required more investigation.
“I will be vigilant in my wanderings throughout the Sapphire Sea,” Ayska said.
“Indeed you will.” Caspran dug into his wraps and produced a gold coin. “I will hunt you down and personally make this Kalila thing suffer horrendously if you don’t. Once I’m done with your pet, then perhaps I’ll do to you what you did to Elof. Only slower, so I can savor your pain.”
He tossed the coin at Ayska. It landed and spun, reflecting the light until it thunked onto the floor. “Take that,” he said, “you will need to carry it on your person at all times should you find yourself in Eloia.”
Caspran disappeared outside, leaving only an angled shaft of sunlight and frigid winds in his wake. Shadows fluttered through the light, birds crying as they took flight. Their calls faded and left them alone in the cabin.
Ayska stood and searched the room with a frown on her face. She turned to Kalila and embraced the woman, the captain’s arms barely fitting around the other’s waist. Kalila smiled and hugged Ayska, flashing a crooked tooth between her teeth.
Iron forced Sander out of their hiding space, and the crate of potatoes toppled over and spilled their contents on the floor. One of the potatoes rolled across the floorboards and bumped into Ayska’s foot. She released her sister and glared at the two men.
“I half expected to find you two stuffed inside grain sacks pissing your pants. The gods must shine on you if they kept that demon’s eye from finding you out. He’s not known for overlooking things.”
“The air around him was cold,” Iron said, shuddering. “He’s not…right in the head.”
“Yes, spewing heretical nonsense tends to spoil one’s brain,” Sander added. “Caspran’s been spewing it for longer than you’ve been alive.”
“If that was Caspran Bilshabel, then is he an alp and not a man?” Iron asked, looking between his master and Ayska.
Ayska took a deep breath and nodded, as did Sander. Iron saw the questions squirming on her tongue, fighting against the tight line of her lips. He had his own. Maybe in time, they’d both get answers.
Iron smiled and crossed his arms. “You tell a good story, Ayska.”
“You mean I’m a good liar? Yes, yes
I am.”
Iron uncrossed his arms. “I didn’t mean—” He had to stifle a groan. “Who is Kalila? A friend of yours? Sounds like you’d do anything for her.”
“Of course I would.” Ayska turned to the woman. Gently, so gently, she clasped Kalila’s enormous wrists, rubbing them with her thumb. “There is nothing on Urum more precious than her. She is my sister.”
CHAPTER TEN
Saltwater Gin
A day at sea settled into night. Iron wished his stomach would do the same. He’d never spent time on ground that lurched, ground that moved, ground that promised a world of swimming, writhing things lurking just beneath a dark and rippling surface.
He stood at the stern, sick in the cheeks and stomach twisted into oily knots. He’d lost its contents several times over. Maybe some fish beneath the dark waters would find more use for his food than his body had.
Exhausting didn’t begin to describe his first day on the open sea. He’d always thought of sailing differently. Better. Smoother. Not this world of up and downs and salty sea spray and howling winds. At least the sun kept him warm until it vanished beneath the horizon.
The moon was a watchful eye high overhead. It cast a silver light revealing the edges of thin clouds drifting through the night. Beyond the moon’s shining crown, bright stars glittered and gave the formless black enchantment.
He breathed in the salty air, licking it from his dry lips. He closed his eyes and listened to the sea as it sighed like a sleeping mother. If he imagined the ship as a cradle and he as a babe, it almost calmed his stomach. Surely, he’d been cradled as a child. Surely his mother cared enough to do that before she abandoned him.
“Iron?” Sander’s voice drifted from behind.
“I’m here.” Iron turned as his master strolled up the steps leading to the main deck.
The man held a steaming cup in his hands and pressed it against Iron’s chest. “Take this. It should help until you get your sea legs.”