Waters of Salt and Sin: Uncommon World Book One

by Alisha Klapheke

But his face was green around the edges and pale everywhere else.

  I put a hand around his wrist, feeling the comfort of his pulse beneath my fingers. “You’re certain?”

  His beautiful lips stretched sweetly, weakly, a sad excuse for his true smile. “I am.” He touched his thumb to my forehead and smoothed a circle, making the Fire’s sign in promise.

  I closed my eyes. “Thank the seas.”

  Oron was frowning when I opened them again. “To shore, my fellow looters.” He shook his head. “I’ve had my fill of thrills. I want nothing more than my mat below the tavern and Kinneret’s consistent snoring to keep me company.”

  “My snoring?” I laughed, still shaking. “We’ll go to the amir in the morning.” I hung the lantern on its hook. “If I show her the map and offer her a cut of the silver, she’ll help me take Avi back from the oramiral. The map will win her over.”

  Calev nodded, but his mouth was tight.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know how you’ll keep her from taking it all, from claiming Ayarazi’s mines and the horses the stories claim are there.”

  Oron laughed, his arms tucked around his stomach. “I like how you both believe the place truly exists. This is a fantasy, Kinneret. You place your faith, your sweet, foolish faith in fantasy.”

  “And what do you suggest I do? Sail up to Quarry Isle and just ask kindly for my sister with a bow and a palm to the sky?”

  “Thieves we have been before, my kaptan. Thieves we could be again.”

  “Speak plainly, Oron. I’m tired.”

  “We could sail to the northeast end, where they never go because of the sea serpents, and sneak onto the island. We could call up a wave to distract them at the southern end and get our girl over the wall.”

  “Call up a wave? What do you think I am? I can’t work the salt that well.”

  “You do it better than any I’ve ever heard of,” Calev said quietly. His gaze flicked to the salt pouch at my sash.

  “Old Farms are not exactly Salt Magic experts.” I raised an eyebrow, said a prayer, and blew my handful of salt into the slow-moving wind. A splash sounded from port side, a night fish jumping.

  Calev held up his palms in defeat. “Still.”

  Oron sat on the bench beside me. “Still.” He looked up. “Or we could go to your aunt’s. Perhaps she could help.”

  Calev raised his eyebrows. “The one in Kurakia?”

  “No,” I said, longing for the comfort of Aunt Kania’s strong arms, which had always reminded me of the black roots of the Topa tree that grew in that red and dusty country across the Pass. “She’d be no real help in this. I will handle it. It would take too much sun to get there and for what?”

  They let the matter drop, and we sailed roughly through the rocks and the swirling current. We took one hard hit against Tall Man, but otherwise remained sound as we reached the bay.

  “Calev, you don’t think the island exists? You think Oron’s dumb plan is better?”

  “No, but it’ll be difficult to keep the amir running down the road you choose.”

  “You are the key, Calev.” I squeezed my hands together as Oron caught the dock with his foot and lowered a bumper to ease the rub on my boat’s side. “You will stand as witness to her promise to take only a portion. A third of what we find. She won’t ignore your witness.”

  Tossing the anchor overboard, Calev said, “First, I have to make you Old Farm kaptan.”

  “That can wait.” I had no clue how we’d solve that problem, but it had to wait. This was silver beyond imagining. The amir would at least hear us out.

  We lowered the gaff. The stitches we’d made to repair the sail had loosened dramatically. It was a wonder they held at all during the trip. We’d fix it later. I didn’t have the silver or the sun to resew it now. Oron rolled the sail and tied it as Calev and I ran hands over the side where we’d knocked against Tall Man. No holes.

  After grabbing his patchwork sack, Oron jumped out of the boat. “Luck to you both. I’m to brew and bed.” His stocky shape faded into the night-shadowed road that led to town where some sad drinker was about to misplace his beer.

  Calev and I climbed onto the dock and lit a lantern. We sat, one set of knees touching to make a crescent of our legs, with the map pieces between us.

  I ran my hand over the glazed markings. “If I understand this correctly, the island is hidden past the northern edge of Kurakia. If the scale of Quarry Isle is tuned to the scale of the Spires’ location, Ayarazi should be at least three leagues from the farthest trade route I’ve ever heard tell of.”

  My mind flashed an image of the water separating Avi and me right now. The wind. Her arms tucked around her sides. The look in her eyes. I squeezed my own eyes shut and swallowed the invisible glass in my throat, pushing the worry and fear away to concentrate.

  “I think you’re right,” he said. “Do you know anything about the waters up there? Don’t they connect the Pass to the Expanse at some point?”

  I pulled at my bottom lip. “The chill you feel sometimes on the Pass comes from that direction. The wind too, mostly. There’s a good chance the waters will be even worse than those on the Pass. Blue. Cold. There are more rock formations the farther north you sail up the Pass, so it’s a guess the area will be challenging to run. A lot of underwater threats.”

  Calev’s brown eyes found mine. “Cold. Rocks. Northern wind and abandoned sea waters. It’s beginning to sound like one of Savta’s tales.”

  His grandmother told stories around the community fire at spring planting and at the harvest celebration. Skin like a raisin and a voice like wine, she totally pulled me in with the Old Farm legend about the frozen birds of the far North that thawed once a century when the poppymilk flower bloomed and released its enlivening pollen.

  “Which story?” I asked. There could be something in the tales that helped us get through this. After all, we had all thought Ayarazi was only a legend.

  His eyes, unblinking, raised the tiny hairs on my arms. “The demon Asag.”

  “The eddy in the Pass is named for that story.”

  “Yes. But this is more than just an eddy. Asag is supposedly a horned demon that controls rocks that hide in the sea. He can make the water boil, killing everything near him.”

  “Cozy.”

  “And if the possessed rocks and hot water don’t ruin you, his hideous face will. It’s said that if you look at him, you die.”

  A shiver slid over my back. “Any way to fight the creature?”

  “I’ll have to ask.”

  A ruthless amir grabbing for my silver.

  My innocent sister twisting and screaming in the hands of a madman.

  Salt Wraiths and legendary sea monsters.

  I looked down at my hands, which suddenly didn’t seem as strong as they’d always been.

  Calev’s hand covered my knuckles. “I’ve seen you sail through the Spires in the middle of a winter storm. You can do this.”

  I found his eyes. There was no trace of glazed madness from the wraith. He was my Calev. Solid. Blessed. So very, very strong in spirit and body. I squeezed his hand, not caring whether he read into the touch or not.

  He leaned forward, a slight, small movement, but my heart betrayed me and danced like the violet nightwingers flying dazedly around his head. Purple nets of light lay over his straight nose and the sweep of his dark hair. Goosebumps tickled my legs, and he reached a hand up and ran his fingers down the back of my neck, multiplying the feeling. My ribs rose and fell too quickly. He would notice. He would know. Why was he touching me?

  “Kinneret.” He breathed my name like a prayer. “You are so much more than anyone else.”

  I tried for a casual laugh, but it bloomed into a sigh. “More?”

  “Your drive. Energy. Your spirit. You are fire, my friend.”

  Friend. My heart died a little.

  He didn’t notice, his hand leaving my skin, leaving me cold.

  “We should go,” I sai
d.

  My knees trembling from his touch, we started up the path, the way Oron had gone.

  My stomach swam at a sudden thought of Avi. I had let worry for her drift away for a moment. I was lower than the dirt on the sole of my sandal. I had to stay focused. My good, sweet sister needed all of me.

  Calev’s gaze drifted back to the darkness of the marsh surrounding the shining rocks of the sea coast. The skin around his eyes tightened, and his lips parted like he might say something.

  “Will you walk me back to the tavern?” I tried to talk to him like I’m sure his Intended did, all shy flirting. I wanted to go back to talk of me being fire and his fingers finding new places to rest on my body.

  His gaze snapped to me, his eyes wide. “Really? You haven’t actually asked me to walk you home since you were eleven years. To steal honey from the brewmaster, yes. To sneak into the guardhouse, yes. But a walk under the moon just for company’s sake?” He raised an eyebrow like a question mark. “And what is that voice you’re using?” He elbowed me gently.

  Heat pricked at my cheeks. I was foolish to push him. He didn’t feel that way about me. Maybe if I found the silver, saved Avi, and became a full ship kaptan, but now, no.

  “Never mind. I will meet you at the amir's gates at sunrise.”

  I stormed away before I could fall into the moonlit trap of his beautiful face and strong arms. It wasn’t a snare laid for me anyway.

  Calev called out, but when I didn’t answer, he laughed and said, “Tomorrow, fire friend!”

  Yes. Tomorrow. It all hung on tomorrow. Avi’s life. My heart. Silver, death, the sea and me.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The amir straightened in her tall chair. My bag of salt safely stowed under a rock outside, I bowed to the bowl of Holy Fire and rushed to keep up with Calev as he approached the dais. We held up our palms in greeting.

  “I’d thought to see your father when my men told me an Old Farm representative had arrived,” the amir said in her bell voice. “No problem with your throat-blood oath, I hope.”

  I snorted. Her nasty grin said she hoped no such thing.

  “Kinneret,” Calev hissed out of the corner of his mouth. I threw him a glare.

  The amir laughed. “You two are amusing. I’ll admit that. But I hope you don’t think on her as a potential Intended, Calev ben Y’hoshua. Even if she does take on the role of Old Farm’s full ship kaptan, until she’s paid to remove,” she eyed my sash, “many bells, you must refrain from your body’s obvious desires.”

  “No, my lady, I…” Calev stammered.

  I wanted to turn into water and soak into the amir’s expensive carpets.

  “There are times,” the amir said, looking down at her own hand and talking very, very quietly like she was being more reflective than actually making a statement. “When I think we should permit high-castes to do as they please. Not marry lowers, but perhaps simply take them to bed and be done with this sort of situation—if we could be certain no caste-mixed children would come of the temporary union. My predecessors would’ve fought such a notion, but I take a clean view of the body’s needs.”

  I bit my tongue. She knew nothing about us. Yes, I wanted his warm lips on my neck, but it was only an extra layer of beauty on our secret world.

  “Don’t sneer at me, girl,” the amir said, finally acknowledging that I could take part in the conversation.

  “No, my lady. I would never.”

  “Of course you would. Your kind love to sneer.”

  My kind. “You believe because I’m low-caste, rising only a handful of generations past slave, that I—”

  Calev smiled like sunrise at the amir, blazing through my rant. “I will fulfill my promise, but today my friend Kinneret Raza has a proposition for you.”

  “Please no more supplications concerning this one’s sister. I’m bored of this conversation.”

  “Don’t you need silver to continue fighting alongside the kyros to increase his dominion?” I asked, my pulse galloping.

  “What does a Pass sailor know of the kyros’s business with me?” Her eyes went to the servant behind us. She was going to dismiss us.

  Her singing ozan hummed a sour-sweet tune and took up his oud, ready to do his job by singing to ease the growing tension.

  Changing tactics, I looked at Calev, smiled, then addressed the amir. “Forgive me. I know nothing about politics. I do know that a leader such as yourself would beat me if I didn’t share my knowledge of a possible adventure worthy of all the poetry in the world.”

  The amir’s face lost its hard edge. Her lips softened and her eyes widened. “Speak.”

  “I imagine if you braved uncharted seas and found a lost place full of silver, people would sing your songs for an eternity.”

  Her body didn’t move, but her fingers gripped the chair’s sides. “And what is this place, sailor?”

  “Ayarazi.”

  Steel returned to the amir’s eyes. “Calev, your friend has seen too much sun. I will hear your father’s promise that she is Old Farm’s kaptan by the end of this moon cycle, or I will watch your throat-blood enrich my soil.” Clapping her hands, she stood.

  I pulled the map shards out of my sash and ran toward her with them shining in my outstretched palms.

  The fighters by her dais rushed toward me, helmets reflecting the window’s light and their arm-length yatagans drawn and ready.

  Calev shouted my name.

  The amir stared down at me, but held up a hand to stop them from running me through. Her guards halted, and I lifted the map shards like a sacrificial lamb.

  The curved tips of her leather boots quivered as she walked down the two steps to meet me. A smile cut through her mouth.

  “Correct me if I’m mistaken, sailor. You believe this is a map to Ayarazi, an island only known from stories, an island filled with mystical horses, green forests, and caves lined in the purest silver.”

  My heart scratched up my throat. When she said it like that, in her ringing, polished voice, the whole thing sounded about as reasonable as wearing a fur coat in the Kurakian desert during high summer.

  I blew out a slow breath. “Yes.”

  A glint brightened her eyes.

  “And, my lady, I am willing to guide your ship and your fighters to the island indicated on this map for only one half of the total amount of silver gleaned.”

  “Half?” She looked to Calev. “Was this your idea?”

  Calev whitened around the mouth. “No, my lady, but I do believe Kinneret Raza. She found the wine jug—the pieces there—in a wrecked ship not far from Quarry Isle. Old Zayn—forgive me, I don’t know his family name—insists that his ancestor worked as a scribe for the Quest knights.”

  Calev filled her in on the tale. The amir listened with thinning lips.

  The amir's gaze whipped to a dark back corner, where a man had come in. “We have three days until our trip to Kurakia, yes?” the amir asked.

  It was Berker. Fantastic.

  His mouth fell open as his gaze went from my torn skirts to my face. “What are you doing here?”

  “Kaptan Berker Deniz, you forget yourself.” The amir’s eyes flashed.

  Berker cleared his throat and the surprise left his features. “Yes, my lady. My apologies. We do indeed have three days until our journey to Kurakia. I do wonder if you are aware who sullies your presence.”

  I rolled my eyes and Calev’s hands fisted at his sides.

  The amir’s fine brow wrinkled. “Enlighten me.”

  “This low-caste sailor is the one I told you about. She works to seduce the high-caste Old Farm, Calev ben Y’hoshua, into marriage. They’ve been caught together more than once.”

  My heart knocked as I looked to Calev, who was blushing furiously.

  “Only talking,” I blurted.

  Calev squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back.

  Why can’t I keep my mouth shut?

  Steepling her fingers at her trim waist, the amir said, “K
aptan Berker Deniz, I have spoken with Calev ben Y’hoshua on this, thank you. They are not yet of age. The boy knows I’d hate to see him become an Outcast.”

  Berker bowed. “Thank you for safeguarding our stronger bloodlines and more capable minds.” His gaze slid to me.

  Calev put a hand on my arm, holding me back.

  Even if I died for it, I was ready to rip the man’s eyes out.

  Calev’s fingers tightened on me. “Shhh,” he said under his breath, though he looked as ready to go for the kill as me.

  One of the amir’s fighting sailors came from the back of the room and handed her a square of papyrus.

  She read it quickly. “Kill the criminal,” she said to the man. “I don’t care if he is the kyros’s third cousin.”

  The fighter strode out of the room, not once looking away from his destination.

  The amir turned her attention back to us. “Be at the main docks at sunrise. Kaptan Berker Deniz, Kinneret Raza will aid you as we sail toward the legendary Ayarazi.”

  Berker’s hands splayed like someone had dumped ice-cold water down his back. “What, my lady?”

  It was my turn to smile. “I’m going to lead you and the amir’s fighting sailors on a quest.”

  The man’s mouth shut like a night flower exposed to sunlight. I almost laughed.

  The amir held up a finger. “Ah, ah. Not lead. Just advise.”

  Berker turned a fantastic shade of purple. “I assure you, the scrapper is lying, my lady.”

  The amir took a step forward. “Do not use slurs in my presence. Her family served their time as slaves. She is low, but that is all. Also, am I mistaken, Kaptan Berker Deniz, or did you suggest I cannot spot a lie?”

  “Of course not. I only meant that you don’t need her help. I can take you to the legendary island.”

  “Oh really? Then why didn’t you already come to me with this life-changing information?”

  I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

  “If it’s out there, I can find it for you, my lady.”

  “Enough.” The amir adjusted the tie that held her sleeve in place. “She will advise. Unless she is found to be as unworthy as you seem to think her, Kaptan Berker Deniz.”