by AB Bradley
“You’ll never bend to anyone again.” He placed a hand on hers. “Not ever.”
“You don’t understand. Before Kalila’s…” Her voice caught. She cleared her throat. “…Before her accident we were much the same as siblings. Every so often, I see something of that sister I knew deep in her eyes. It’s not often, but when I see it, I cherish it. I abandoned her when she needed me most, Iron. Kalila suffers because I was a fool.”
“You can’t blame yourself.”
“I can and I do because I’m worthy of the blame. I couldn’t deal with my guilt, so I poured my faith into the Loyal Father like my sister had before the accident. Not until I saw my friends—my family—slaughtered on Spineshell did I realize the Loyal Father couldn’t have been more disloyal to me. The gods are dead and gone, Iron, and we have to find the answers without them.”
The pain in her voice twisted his heart, but he knew by her tone, this glimpse into her past was all she wanted him to see. A crack, nothing more. Part it wider and she would seal herself away again.
Instead, he spun beside her and twisted her to the platform’s edge. Their legs dangled from the side, toes dipping into the sea whenever they crested a wave.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles. “I’d never seen a sea before I met you. I wondered about them. I pictured them. But nothing really compares to the real thing. The Everfrosts were majestic in their own way, but they don’t compare to the Sapphire Sea. This place could swallow those mountains.”
“We skim on the surface of another world’s sky.” Ayska closed her eyes and smiled, lifting her chin to the breeze. “Sailors say there are titans of the sea that haven’t died. They may not have arms and legs, but they’re giants in their own right.”
Behind them, Sander began a poorly-performed tune. The man’s voice made Iron cringe. “Maybe we can tie Sander up and see if one will come to the surface and take him off our hands.”
“Our ears should be so lucky.” Ayska laughed and nudged him. “Are you a better bard than your master? He sounds like two bay gulls mating. He tried teaching me a song yesterday, but I put him in his place. Had to chase him once. He’s damn hard to catch.”
Iron shared her laugh, using it as an excuse to bring their bodies closer. “You think a few days on the ship is bad? I’d never heard anyone else in the world sing, and even I knew he was awful. He could crack ice with that voice.”
They chuckled awhile longer, but even those smiles faded. Ayska leaned her head against his shoulder and stared into the horizon. “What are we doing, Iron?”
“There’re others we have to find. I think I know how to fix the circle, but then I—”
“No, not that. I meant what are you and I doing? This isn’t right.”
“It doesn’t feel wrong.” Iron swallowed. He didn’t like talking of these things. He just knew he and Ayska were right. She didn’t need to scribble their feelings out on parchment.
“I’m cursed, Iron. Everything I touch crumbles like a pillar of loose sand. I’m putting you in danger. I’m putting Kalila in danger—again. I…I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” She shuddered, her body tensing.
He moved his arm so his hand rested lightly against her back. “Funny, I could’ve said the exact same thing. It’s not right, keeping you and Kalila around me. I’m being selfish. I…”
“It’s my choice to stay around you, not yours. Remember that.” She turned to him. Tears weighed her eyes, but she held them back. “I am going to kill Caspran for what he did. I’m going to make him pay, and I’m going to do it without the Six’s help. I’m going to prove to the world we don’t need six dead gods. I’m going to slay that Serpent, too. That king and everything that god he worships stands for is going to bleed on my blade, and I’ll smile when it’s done. I just haven’t decided yet if I should have you with me when I do.”
Those words might as well have been a knife casually inserted between his ribs followed by a stiff fist to his stomach. If she knew the truth about him, would she drive a dagger through his heart? Iron shoved the thought down and chewed on his lip. “So you want to end whatever is between us. Ayska, if that’s what you want—”
“No, no, that’s not what I want at all, Iron. Something about you pulls me to you. I saw it in Ormhild. I see it every time our eyes meet. You pull me in. I want to leave because I know you’re not ready and I don’t think I ever truly will be either, but I can’t stop myself. You’ve made me a fool, you stupid, weird boy from Skaard.”
He laughed and pinched her chin, the tension vanishing on his chuckle. For an instant that was a lifetime, their eyes met. Iron leaned over and kissed her, and they embraced to the happy sigh of the sea. Nothing else mattered when they kissed. They were the gods of their own world, and she rode the thundersnow with him.
Eventually, he pulled back. “I gave you my word I’d help you get revenge for what Caspran did. I will never break that word.”
Her lips parted in a toothy smile, and she pecked his cheek. “I remember, and I believe you.” She leaned back and stared into the stars. “Your innocence drew me to you at first I think. You’re not like most men in Urum. You don’t lie, cheat and steal. You want to learn. You want to be strong. It’s refreshing. How’d you grow up so differently than Sander?”
She scratched her nails lightly on his arm and kissed his shoulder. Iron winced at her question and closed his eyes. In truth, he and Sander shared more in common than she knew. He lied to her about many things. His Sinner’s Oath kept his lips sealed about his magic. But everything he’d done and said—or not said—he did for her benefit, for her safety. Hopefully, one day she would forgive him for his sins against her.
Sander and Nephele skirted into view. The woman’s long hair fluttered like a banner behind her. Sander’s hood had fallen to his shoulders and let his shaggy, peppered hair whip around his greying beard. His singing sunk into a mild, bearable humming. They looked at one another and nothing else.
“They’re like children,” Ayska said with a sigh. “This is going to be a long journey. I’ve got a feeling your master’s going to be talking about one thing and one thing only for the rest of the trip. At least he’s not trying to sell me on his broken faith.”
“No, at least he’s not doing that.”
“At least I have you. Everything you are is real, not like them and their gods.”
They watched the stars together in silence. Iron enjoyed her warmth, but part of him feared what would come. He couldn’t lie to her forever. Sander would one day release him from the Sinner’s Oath. Maybe by then, the gaping wound her faith had inflicted on her heart would become a scar so when she learned the truth, she wouldn’t kill him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Athe
Athe’s titan appeared long before land did. Iron spotted the skeleton on the horizon, a minuscule nub of black thrust like a splinter above the flat sea. Behind him, the sun baked him in morning light and soothed his aching muscles from the prior day’s endless hours of contortion in the Lover’s style. Bends once terrifying and seemingly inhuman now came to him as natural as breath. Not even rough seas shook his balance. He felt he could dance on a rope and not fall so sure was his footing and proud his teacher.
Ayska joined Iron at the prow. She gripped a rope and leaned over the water, wind flapping her braids behind her. “Their titan stands on an island in the deep. It’s pretty far from their shores, as far as city titans usually go. He holds a spear, just like the people of Athe. They say one of Eloia’s first kings spent his life trying to conquer this city. When the king died of old age and his son took the crown, the son took up the challenge and spent even more decades throwing soldiers at Athe’s spearmen. But not even Athe could last forever, and after a plague weakened their numbers, the city finally fell.”
“What did the king do once he had the city?”
“When the king of Eloia entered the gates, Athe’s leaders gathered, expe
cting to be put to the sword by the man whose father and then him spent their lives, riches, and soldiers trying to conquer them. But he didn’t kill the elders, not a single one. Instead, the king embraced them and gave them positions of honor in his army. Athe has been Eloia’s military heart ever since, pumping out men and women trained to kill and tougher than a greyhorn’s coat.”
Sander skipped next to Iron and Ayska and balanced on one of the bobbing prows. He shuddered, flipping a hood of sewn leather Nephele made over his shaggy hair. “A brutal city when Eloia was a good place. I fear what Sol’s serpents have twisted it into these days.”
Ayska shook her head, eyes narrowing at the horizon. “Slaves, indentured servants, impressed soldiers, mercenaries—they swell Sol’s numbers and expand his empire. Eloia used to be a volunteer army. Now, the serpents command it while the imprisoned die in it. They’re taken through brutal training. Any injured or those considered too weak to fight are thrown out onto the street. In Athe, you’re either molded into a murderer or made a beggar. Very little exists between the two, save a few Serpent Sun priests, nobles and those whose trade is flesh.”
“And alp.” Iron’s knuckles cracked as his fist tightened. “If it really is his military capital, he’ll have alp there.”
“Do you think Caspran is there?” Ayska asked, the hunger in her voice palpable.
Sander crossed his arms, his chin dipping to his chest. “We haven’t seen him since Spineshell. That rat could be anywhere on the Sapphire Sea. If he truly is hunting us, then I doubt he’d be sipping wine in Athe’s port waiting for our arrival. It’s literally the last place anyone would expect us to head. It’s kind of brilliant in its foolhardiness, really.”
Except Iron knew better. He remembered the words Caspran spoke to him after the slaughter. He’d told Iron once he learned the gods’ shame, he would come again. The king wanted Iron, and Caspran was the alp to bring him to the man.
“Don’t get cocky,” Iron said. He adjusted the makeshift armor Nephele crafted for him. A patchwork leather tunic and breeches, leather greaves tightly bound over his boots, and fingerless leather gloves that came to his elbows. Admittedly, it all fit comfortably.
Nephele prodded his tunic and messed with a few bindings. “You look like a regular swashbuckling mercenary if there ever was one. I’m rather good at disguises, if I do say so myself.”
Sander’s crooked grin pushed his cheeks higher as he watched her. “With hands like those—”
Iron groaned and rolled his eyes. Ayska smirked.
“Sander!” Nephele slapped him on the back, clearly not enough to hurt. “This isn’t Skaard or Rosvoi. I’m a proper lady here. Be so kind as to remember that.”
“Mmhmm,” he murmured, winking at Iron from the corner of his eye.
“You’re a lecherous old man, master.”
Ayska grabbed a small leather strap and turned to Iron, fastening it over an eye. “We need to hide that face of yours a little better. Can’t let Caspran catch a glimpse. You know, you’re the most handsome pirate sailing the Sapphire Sea I’ve ever met.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the tip of her nose. “And I’m hauling Urum’s most precious treasure.”
Sander echoed Iron’s earlier groan. “Pardon me, my stomach just upset itself on that ridiculous conversation. Nephele, would you mind helping me take off my pants?”
“Sander Hale!” The woman’s cheeks reddened and she stormed off.
“What?” He chased after her, yanking a pair of breeches from the pile of armor nearby. “I just need your help getting my armor on!”
Ayska rubbed the nape of Iron’s neck. “I’m going to help Kalila into her outfit. Keep an eye on the coast while we get ready.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Iron said. Her shadow melted from view as she went to find her sister. Iron knelt on the deck, his hands placed over the torn and tattered tunic he’d worn since the day Sander pulled him to Ormhild. He lifted the shirt before him. Wind rolled in waves over the fabric. It reeked of sweat, its hem mostly frayed tendrils swaying in the breeze.
This shirt had been with him since he’d left home. He flew in a thundersnow in it, met Ayska in it, received Fang in it, fought Caspran in it, ridden a tsunami in it, and killed Thrallox in it. Now, he had to let it go. Iron held the rough fabric against his nose and took a breath, closing his eyes. He smiled and opened them. One hand released the shirt, and it flapped around the other as if it knew its end approached and feared it.
“To new beginnings,” he said. Iron loosened his grip and watched as the dark fabric twirled away before vanishing into the sea. Iron bowed respectfully and exhaled, inspecting his outfit.
Ayska informed him Nephele’s costumes closely mirrored her native Rabwian. It made sense for a ship of Rabwians to make port just north of their tribal lands. Sander fashioned a cover story for them of four poor fools landing in the city in search of work. His master and Iron hailed from Eloia while Ayska and Kalila actually being Rabwian worked well. Only Nephele stood out among the group with her golden hair and light eyes, but what was any group of companions without one who didn’t quite belong? It gave their story an imperfection that made them more believable.
Like all travel over open water, distance readily deceived the eye. It took the better part of that morning to reach the titan and its sandy island. The skeleton towered on a granite pedestal, striking like a blunted spike from rough and foaming waves. All around it, similar pillars jutted from the water, promising a dangerous entry onto the coast for all who did not navigate the carefully laid path into the city.
The titan’s skull didn’t look to the horizon like the ones in Ormhild. This titan dipped its chin and scowled at its feet. The massive spear gripped in one hand, he thrust the tip into the sea as if fishing for men for dinner. The people of Athe had set long spears behind its skull that radiated out like a halo. Crimson banners affixed to the spears fluttered like makeshift flames around the bone. A few bay gulls cried out on its shoulder, angrily beating their wings against their breasts.
“It’s a mean one,” Sander said. He tugged on his leather hood, clearly uncomfortable in the clothes. He’d worn his Sinner’s raiment since Iron could remember. For a man of faith, switching outfits like this couldn’t have been an easy choice. The man wriggled his fingers through his glove and held his hand to the sky. “It’s different. I certainly don’t feel like myself.”
“None of us our ourselves these days,” Iron said.
“I’d say it could be worse, but really that’s a lie, and you and I are forced to hide the truth far too often these days. I pray we’ll be okay. Whether or not the Sinner slips us from a grisly fate is beyond me.”
Galleons appeared behind the rocks rising from the sea. Behind them, the faded, broken line of a city separated from the horizon. Iron pinched his chin and frowned at the city. “I’m worried what might happen if Ayska sees Caspran. He shouldn’t be here, but if he is…”
“He won’t be here. Why would he be? He’s probably scouring Spineshell for us or else thinks we sank with the ruins.”
“I just worry is all.”
“Welcome to the greater chunk of life I’ve been living with a certain boy who has a penchant for falling ass first into trouble,” he said, slapping Iron on the back. “Welcome to life, when it’s filled with people you care about.”
“Sander, my Oath.”
His master’s hand lingered on Iron’s back. Sander wrapped his arm around Iron’s neck and pulled him close. “You will not use magic here, Iron. I still hold you to your word, and in this place more than any other that word is sacrosanct.”
“I meant the other Sinner’s Oath. I swore I’d help her get revenge. If she attacks Caspran, I may be compelled to help her.”
Sander peeled back, frowning. “Good point. I hadn’t thought of that. If it comes to that and things look bleak, I might release you. But trust me when I say things will have to look very bleak for me to release you.”
For some reason, the words didn’t surprise the man. He patted Iron’s cheek and smiled. “I know. I suppose I’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen. Shouldn’t be too difficult, should it?”
By now, the jagged pillars had receded, leaving an open expanse of shallow seas between the titan and the shoreline. The broken, blurred line that was Athe sharpened into a city of adobe buildings stacked on atop another in crowded clusters. Every so often, a spindly tower bearing the banner of the High King rose amongst the squat stacks. Warm winds from the desert beyond the city carried dust with it, cloaking Athe in a beige veil.
Their catamaran passed a galleon moored just beyond the clear expanse. Its shadow swallowed their ship. On its deck, soldiers glowered suspiciously as they passed, each one in a long jacket emblazoned with a serpent eating its own tail. Iron went to the serpent charm around his neck. He’d kept it such a guarded secret he often forgot he even wore it. Somehow, it seemed better a secret.
The galleon didn’t harass them. Iron didn’t know whether that was good or bad. Sander shrugged when he asked and told him maybe both.
They sailed from the ship’s shadow and headed to port. Clanging, ringing, shouting—the sharp, chaotic racket of crowds and commerce drifted from the shoreline. Merchant vessels littered the docks, their masts flying banners of their home countries. Many smaller ones Iron recognized from his studies. He noted the smallest kingdoms closest to Eloia already sported the king’s banner above their own. Larger nations like Skaard, and to the east, Blail and Hine, still maintained their independence. For how long that would last, he didn’t know.
Other ships filled the docks as well and carried the telltale signs of a more wicked merchant, of one who trades in flesh clasped in irons. He tensed at the slaver ships, noting the chains and collars hanging from the masts. He spotted the oar holes used to power the ships swiftly from port to port where they would sell their men, women, and children to those disgusting enough to trade gold for another human’s freedom.