Waters of Salt and Sin: Uncommon World Book One

by Alisha Klapheke

  My stomach twisted. I hadn’t expected to like her voice. But it was beautiful. It rang like the bell she wore and made me want to hear her sing.

  “I would never forget, my lady. And I thank you for meeting me here.”

  In the past, the ruling amir met the Old Farm chairman in the fields. Before Amir Mamluk, no Old Farms were permitted in her household. They were welcomed into town and highly respected in agreements and trading, but not allowed here, in the home of the highest ranking member of the kyros’s ruling class.

  Y’hoshua’s face was like carved stone. “But, as I said, it is a fine crop.”

  “One-third finer than last harvest?”

  Calev stepped out the shadows. “Yes.”

  The house servant sputtered and quickly announced us. “Calev ben Y’hoshua of Old Farm and—”

  I poked the man and shook my head. My presence only added problems. I wanted to stay in the shadows for a bit longer, see how this panned out. The servant’s face darkened. He looked ready to throw me in a cell.

  “We remember so they remember,” I said quickly, drawing my gaze to his bells, then touching a finger to my own.

  He took a breath and nodded slowly. “The amir might not like this. You must be quiet, and still.”

  I nodded. “I’ll be as inactive as your mind.”

  “What?”

  “What?” I echoed.

  “You said—”

  “I thought we needed to stay quiet.”

  “Yes,” he said sharply. “Quiet.”

  Y’hoshua’s loud voice rang through the room. He stood. “Son?”

  Calev bowed to the amir, then gave his father a nod. “Amir Mamluk, what my father says is true. This barley is indeed one-third finer. My brother Eleazar ben Y’hoshua developed a new way to fight root rot and the crop grew more golden than in years past. If you cannot agree to the number my father has set, perhaps we could agree on last year’s price plus one hundred extra workers—your fighters or any men or women you see as fit—to weed our fields after spring planting.”

  The servant beside me made a little Hm noise of appreciation.

  “Pretty quick, isn’t he?” I whispered.

  Y’hoshua turned an impressive shade of red.

  The amir’s eyebrow lifted as she stared Calev down. “It is a delicate balance we set here.”

  Calev stood straight under her burning gaze. “We are thankful for that balance. Gratitude sings the loudest note in our ancient ways, my lady.”

  “And we know how Old Farms love their old ways.” She grinned like a fox and her fighters laughed lightly.

  Y’hoshua and Calev bowed their heads a fraction, and a small smile drifted over one side of Calev’s mouth. I hope he enjoyed the moment, because I’d bet his father would strap him good later. No way Y’hoshua would let this slide. Proving my point, he glared at Calev and his nostrils flared.

  The amir stood, shoving her chair back with a screech. Y’hoshua hurried to echo the movement, though his chair made no sound.

  “We are agreed, Chairman Y’hoshua ben Aharon.”

  Calev and Y’hoshua made the Fire’s sign, forming a circle on their foreheads with their thumbs. The amir copied the gesture.

  Now was the time to bring up Avi. I willed Calev to read my thoughts. But he acted like he was going to leave with Y’hoshua, waiting as the amir called for her scribe. The Holy Fire flickered in its bronze bowl and sent out a snap.

  Looking at the now empty table—the amir and the chairman had gone to the scribe’s podium to sign their agreement—I tried, and failed, to imagine a world where someone like me could sit there. How much silver would it take to make Salt Magic as acceptable as the Old Farm ways and the Holy Fire?

  Calev was waiting too long to broach the subject of Avi. I had to speak.

  I untied my salt from my sash and bent, pretending to adjust my sandal as I tucked the bag into the corner away from the servant’s prying eyes.

  Not waiting on the servant to announce me, I walked into the room.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The house servant called out.

  “I’m Kinneret Raza, Pass sailor,” I squawked, saving him the effort.

  Y’hoshua’s eyes narrowed as the high ceiling grabbed every smack of my ratty sandals and threw it back at the tiled floor.

  Amir Mamluk had taken a seat in a tall chair on a raised platform.

  I bent at the knee and raised an open palm to her in respect.

  “Chairman Y’hoshua ben Aharon, is this another of your surprises?”

  “No, my lady.” His face was stormy. “I don’t know what brings Kinneret Raza here.”

  “A low-caste sailor…” The amir wasn’t even looking at me and I still felt the threat, all the possible words she could utter and ruin me.

  Maybe I should’ve planned to tell her about the map to Ayarazi. The tales about her ruthlessness could’ve been false. She might believe me. Calev said there was no chance of her taking Old Zayn’s tale as truth. But maybe he was wrong.

  “I am sorry for the interruption, Amir Mamluk,” Calev said with one of those smiles of his. The amir smiled back. Someone would have to be dead not to smile back at Calev. “But we do have another topic to discuss, if you are willing. It is a matter that needs immediate attention.”

  The amir's eyebrows lifted, but I couldn’t tell whether she was angry or interested. “Immediate?”

  Y’hoshua raised a palm and the amir turned her attention to him.

  “Yes, Chairman Y’hoshua ben Aharon?”

  “The sailor has had an unfortunate run-in with the oramiral. I do value the sailor’s talent. Even young as she is, she has scouted two new ports for Old Farm. She is very skilled. But her current situation is nothing that concerns my son.”

  It was like hands pushed down on my shoulders and I had to fight to stand.

  Calev’s eyes flashed. “It does concern me, Father. And the amir, too.”

  “Yesterday,” I said, “we sailed past Asag’s Door, near Quarry Isle, and Oramiral Urmirian’s men boarded our craft and abducted my sister, Avigail Raza.”

  Leaning back, the amir rested an elbow on the arm of her chair and adjusted the leather collar of her military vest. “I believe your father is correct,” she said to Calev. “This should not concern you. Now, Chairman Y’hoshua ben Aharon, you may leave and I will have a little talk with your son.”

  Y’hoshua nodded curtly at Calev. “He does seem to think he has this in hand.” And with that, he left.

  A buzz reverberated inside me. I spoke louder. “I have brought many of your noble visitors safely across the Pass from Kurakia, Amir Mamluk, and I run many of the merchants and area farmers’ surplus goods. My sister will follow in my footsteps to become another valuable member of your township. We work under the protection of your fighters, for the good of your township.” I wanted to add the slurs Calev and I had thought up, but the words didn’t want to come.

  The amir’s fingers lighted on the snakeskin sheath of her personal dagger. Her nails were stained with orange spices I’d only taste if I found Ayarazi. “The work you do, it is coppers to me. Have you ever kaptaned a full ship for any of my tenant farmers?”

  “No, but I—“

  Shaking his hair out of his eyes, Calev took a small step forward and his father grumbled something under his breath.

  Burned silhouettes of tiny lemons and barley stalks decorated the edges of Calev’s sash. That article of clothing alone cost as much as a cartload of grains. The amir’s gaze followed the shining hem, an approving smile ghosting over her mouth. I stood taller. Calev had thought out what would impress her. He was truly was doing his best to help Avi.

  “My lady,” he said, “Kinneret Raza runs surplus for the headland farmer Matan…”

  I winced. “Actually—”

  The amir slapped a hand on her throne. “Do not interrupt those higher than you, sailor.”

  My face burned as the amir looked again to Calev.

&
nbsp; “You see, Calev ben Y’hoshua? You shouldn’t encourage this one with your admirable kindness. She grows too bold for her station. It could mean trouble for the both of you.” Her icy gaze nipped at me. “This one has talent. I’ve heard as much. But she would do well to earn her silver and rise in the accepted way, avoiding overly close association with upper-castes until she is ready. You know the kyros requires me to protect high-caste bloodlines. You must not mix unless the low is proven and rises, or you will both be Outcasted.”

  Calev went gray around the mouth, and I shivered.

  “With my condolences on the young girl—one should not begin as a slave, then return to it after honorably working—please go on your way and give my best to your father, Calev ben Y’hoshua.”

  Just like that, she threw Avi’s life away.

  My heart choked as the amir motioned to the servant to lead us out. Her ozan began singing of her great-great-grandfather’s journey to the North.

  I wanted to blurt out my knowledge of the lost island of silver, but in this painfully formal room full of narrowed eyes and high brows, I couldn’t say it. It wouldn’t matter. None of these uppers would believe me.

  I imagined Avi’s small, thin body curled into mine during the night, her open-mouthed breathing. Where did she sleep now? In the open air slave quarters on Quarry Isle, along with a mass of others, men desperate and women angry. They’d probably already taken her tunic from her. They would steal her food. She wouldn’t be able to fight back in such a crowd. They’d take everything she had.

  I looked frantically at the approaching servant, then at the amir. “Please!”

  The ozan didn’t quiet. The amir didn’t turn toward me.

  Calev’s gentle hand warmed my arm and raised his voice. “Kinneret will be the Old Farm kaptan for the next shipment of barley,” he said loudly. “Old Farm is confident in her abilities and what should be a quick rise in caste.”

  What?

  He held his fist to his neck. “By my word,” he swore, “or my throat’s blood is yours, my lady.”

  The ozan’s tune fell away.

  I put my head in my hands. A throat’s blood oath. It was binding until one or both died. If he didn’t follow through, the amir would slit his throat in front of everyone in Jakobden and Old Farm and not even his chairman father could do a thing to stop it.

  But I forced my chin up. This was my chance to help Avi. I couldn’t take on the oramiral without the amir's fighting sailors and ships and coin. Calev had thrown his life into the deal. I pulled in a breath of the manor house’s spicy air. I had to back him up now. There was no other choice, as mad as it was.

  “It is true, my lady,” I lied.

  The noblewoman stood. She was taller even than Calev’s father. “When I hear from Y’hoshua ben Aharon’s own mouth that this girl will kaptan his ship, that she has the protection of Old Farm, and therefore my own protection due to the old agreements, you will have the coin and fighters you need to take your sister back, Kinneret Raza.” Her smile said she knew that would never happen. “I hope you are wise in this choice, Calev ben Y’hoshua. A public execution of an Old Farm would be dramatic indeed.”

  Blood lust colored her features.

  The room spun as we followed the servant to the courtyard.

  The ozan’s lilting voice carried more tales of heroic deeds. As we walked, he sang of a man slaying enemies with a lion fighting at his side.

  Outside the manor house walls, I raged ahead of Calev, my sandals splashing, and my arms like flapping wings at my sides.

  “A throat binding, Calev? And how do you think I’m going to kaptan your ship? Your father won’t even bend his precious harvest schedule to save my sister’s life.” I kicked at a basket of leeks and a girl in a white hair wrap swore at me.

  “It’s not as simple as a change of schedule. It is about a holy ritual. It’s not matter of mere inconvenience.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “No, Kinneret. It’s not. And you know it. If we wait on the harvest any longer—and there’s no way they’ll harvest without me at the ceremony—we could lose crops, which means less food for everyone on the Broken Coast and beyond.”

  “I don’t care if it means less food.” I grabbed his tunic. “Don’t you get it? She’s probably the youngest slave. She’ll be stepped on, pushed down. Or worse. There are men there, Calev. Desperate men, out of their minds. I have to go after the map to the island.”

  “The oramiral’s men could take you too.”

  “I don’t care. I have to try.”

  “I know, but maybe we should wait and think about this.”

  “Really? Wait on what? Silver is my only card to play. Your father is no help, or if he does help, it’ll be too late and Avi will be—”

  He covered my hands with his. “Kinneret. Calm yourself.”

  I pushed away from him. “Ooo, using your big man voice, huh?” I huffed and started my raging down the road again. “Save it for your field workers. I’m sailing out now. The wine jug with the map is out there, waiting for me. If I find Ayarazi on my own and return with the purest silver the amir has ever seen, she’ll flay the oramiral alive if I ask it and Avi will come home again.”

  “Can’t you wait one day?”

  “Oh, and your father is going to let you walk out of Old Farm when it’s over? And after today? I don’t think so. He’ll want you there for the full harvest. You know the fields. And you’re better at getting everyone to work their tails off than anyone else. If I were him, I’d want you there.”

  “He will want me to stay, but I’ll sneak off. Eleazar will cover for me.”

  I lowered my voice as we came to the town gate. “You’d leave right after the ceremony? Even if you know I’ll use Salt Magic for this trip? Because I can’t simply wait for a good wind. Avi is dealing with only the Fire knows what this very second. The men there will take more than just her share of food.”

  “I will leave as soon as I can. I promise you. I love Avi too.”

  I wanted him to come. He was my good luck.

  My rage cooled as I stared at his face, full of his promise. His throat bobbed, his skin smooth, the same skin the amir would slice open if I didn’t kaptan Old Farm’s barley ship.

  “Will you wait for me?” he asked quietly so no one would hear.

  I pressed my lips together. I needed all the luck I could get. Finding the map would be easier if I had another diver. Oron was terrible under the water.

  “Yes,” I said. “I don’t like it, but yes.”

  “Come to the ceremony tonight.”

  I couldn’t do that. His father was furious with me and I with him. Besides, the word Outcast echoed through my mind. “No. I need to ready the boat.” I touched his hand quickly. “I hope your rituals go smoothly. I’ll meet you at the dock tomorrow.”

  Before I could turn and see his dark gaze following me, before I chanced those eyes urging me into more trouble, I stalked down the road. Zayn’s words played in my memory again and again like a prayer chant, promising a good life for Avi and me.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Oron was drunk. Aboard our boat, he swayed on his wide feet, one sandal tucked inside a circle of extra rope and an eye swollen shut from struggling against the oramiral’s slaves.

  “I’m not worthless, my dear, um…my…Ki…Kin…”

  “Kinneret.” I held up a hand to block the early sun. My bruised cheek thumped with pain, but the rest of me had stopped hurting as of this morning. I was still in a mood though. Calev hadn’t shown yet and I wondered if his father had anything to do with it.

  “I was going to say that,” Oron said. “I needed a second to think.”

  “Get off the boat, Oron. I have places to be. Avi isn’t lounging in a kyros’s tent. I have no sun for your nonsense.” I swallowed against the fist in my throat.

  He plopped himself onto the rope and crossed his arms.

  “Fine. Stay aboard,” I said. “But keep out of my way.”
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br />   By the time I’d hauled anchor, his snores echoed off the boat’s sides. I looked down at him and sighed. He didn’t usually drink so much this early. I supposed he was worried about Avi and handling it in his own way. A stupid way.

  As I let out the sail, someone shouted from the hill beyond the dock.

  Calev.

  His tunic flowing at his sides, he ran down the path and pounded up to the boat. He grabbed the side before I’d floated a foot off.

  Tossing a sack and himself over the side, he said, “I’m sorry I’m late,” then looked to Oron, frowning. “He can’t hold his alcohol.”

  “It’s not for holding. It’s for drinking, silly,” Oron mumbled, turning over.

  “Did you tell your father about the oath?” I asked Calev. I shuddered, and rubbing salt between my fingertips, whispered to the sea and edged the tiller, a motion more familiar to me than walking.

  Calev watched me work the magic with a wrinkled brow. “No. You thought I would?” He handed me a wheat cake from his bag and tossed one to Oron.

  “Ow!” Oron scowled, then noticed the cake lying beside him. “Ooo.” He gobbled it up and closed his eyes again.

  “I didn’t know what to think,” I said. “It’s not like you make a throat’s blood oath every day.”

  Oron whistled like a sick bird. “This is getting interesting. Maybe I should consider consciousness…”

  I glared at him. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

  Calev leaned toward me. “The oath won’t matter when we find the island. The amir just needs to be convinced you’re worth her time.” He grinned and my heart flipped.

  Oron wiggled his fingers. “Oooo, listen to the optimist.”

  With Calev standing beside me and not judging me for using Salt Magic, and the sea like green glass beyond him, something bright like hope sparked in my heart.

  On alert for the oramiral’s ship, we made it to The Drift before the sun had fallen two fingers closer to the horizon.

  Talking with Calev, Oron managed to make himself useful on the sail’s lines. “So, let me get this straight. You promised the amir that our girl here was set to be the next Old Farm ship kaptan in hopes that the amir would consider Avi as a person worth rescuing.”