by Shae Ford
They weaved through the narrow streets, careful not to step on anybody’s toes. The villagers, freed from their glass prisons at last, were crowded together in lumps. Husbands held their wives, and children were fast asleep in their parents’ laps. Whole clans had their bedrolls stuck side by side, with hardly any space between. Though Kael was happy for them, seeing the families together made him homesick.
“Hail, Witchslayer!” someone said, and he turned to see a burly man leaning against a wagon. He raised his tankard, the thanks in his eyes meant clearly for Kael. And he was just the first.
At every fire he passed, men and women got to their feet. They seemed shaken and wobbly. If he couldn’t see the steadiness in their eyes, he might have thought they were drunk. But no matter how they struggled to stand, stand they did. They raised tankards and fists to him. “Witchslayer!” they said.
“They’re talking about you,” Noah whispered out the side of his mouth.
Kael wasn’t used to having so many eyes on him — and he certainly wasn’t used to the gratitude in them. So he kept his head bent low and answered their cries with a nod.
Eventually, they found Lysander sitting with his back against the wall of a house. He spoke quietly with a man on his left, and when he saw them approaching, he stuck a finger to his lips.
The excitement of the day seemed to have been too much for Thelred and Aerilyn. He was curled up on the other side of the fire, his arms crossed over his chest and the hood of his cloak pulled over his eyes. Aerilyn, on the other hand, had her face buried in Lysander’s arm. She looked peaceful enough, but as they got closer, Kael could hear her snoring.
“Isn’t she lovely?” Lysander said. He was sitting like a human statue, fighting to keep her head balanced on his shoulder.
“Like a baby bear with a cold,” Jonathan cooed.
Lysander glared at him. “Don’t you have a song to write, fiddler? Today is destined for history! I can’t believe you aren’t jumping to be the first bard to sing about it.”
Jonathan scratched his scruffy cheek. “Nah, I usually leave the jumping to the frogs.”
“How about the flogging?” Lysander growled.
That seemed to change Jonathan’s tune. He saluted quickly. “Point taken, Captain! I’ll just get right on that.” And he hurried away.
Lysander nodded to Noah. “Follow him, will you? Make sure he stays on task.” When they were gone, he gestured to the man sitting beside him. “Kael, this is Shamus — master shipbuilder of Copperock.”
The man looked about the same age as Morris. He saluted with his tankard and his smile spread to either end of his bushy sideburns — which was precisely how Kael recognized him.
“Hail, Witchslayer,” Shamus said. “I’d rise to greet you like a proper man, but I’ve not used my legs in nearly twenty years — and they’re a bit wobbly, yet. Why don’t you have a seat and help yourself to the vittles?”
Kael needed little encouragement. After weeks of nothing but fish, he was prepared to eat his weight in game. Shamus served him a generous slab of venison, and he stuffed the first bite in his mouth — nearly swallowing it without chewing.
“There you are, lad. You eat, and I’ll talk. The one good thing about the curse is that I haven’t aged a day — my arms are still strong.” Shamus poured him a tankard, and he was glad it was only water. “I know you probably think it’s odd that we aren’t serving ocean fare at our tables. We’re proud children of the seas, I’ll have you know. But when you’ve been a fish for so long, it just don’t feel right to be eating them.”
“No, I imagine it doesn’t,” Lysander agreed.
Kael nearly choked when Shamus clapped him on the back. “But we’re fish no more, and it’s all thanks to you,” he said, smiling. “You kept your word — you told me you were going to kill the Witch and lo, she lies dead. The good people of Copperdock owe you their freedom.”
So he’d been right: the fish he accidentally kicked over on the way to Wendelgrimm was Shamus. He didn’t know where the villagers were getting their information, but he thought he should set the tale straight. “I didn’t fight alone — I couldn’t have done it without my friends.”
“And they all said they couldn’t have done it without you. Now I know it’s hard for you great men to take the credit,” Shamus said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, “but the villagers are already calling you their champion. There’s naught you can do now but bow to the cheers, Sir Wright.”
He leaned back, as if that settled it, and Kael leaned around him to glare at Lysander — who’d suddenly become very occupied with sharpening his dagger on the side of his boot. “You told?” he said angrily.
Lysander was the picture of innocence. “My dear boy, a whole village witnessed you flying through the air with a dragon. What could I tell them?”
“It wasn’t your secret,” Kael snapped back. He was livid. His next bite of venison stuck to his tongue like sand.
“Don’t worry about Copperdock — we’re friends of the whisperers,” Shamus said quickly. “And after Miss Kyleigh helped us catch dinner, we’ve become friends of halfdragons as well.”
Kael slammed his tankard on the ground. “And you told about Kyleigh? I thought you were supposed to be her friend —”
“Ah, actually we figured that one out on our own,” Shamus said. He pointed to a dark corner of the street, where Kyleigh was sleeping soundly — in full dragon form.
She had her tail curled up to her nose and her chin propped on her forearms. Kael was surprised to see that a small mob of children had taken up residence in the crook of her legs, using her tail for a giant pillow. Their faces were pink and smooth with sleep.
“The young ones don’t know fear like the rest of us,” Shamus said quietly. “Nor prejudice. They’ve never seen a dragon before, so what do they do? Walk up and make friends with her. I tell you — if all men had a child’s courage, the Kingdom would be a better place.”
“Speaking of that,” Lysander cut in, “what do you plan to do, now that you’ve got your legs back?”
Shamus smiled and spread his arms wide. “What all shipbuilders do — rebuild. I’ll imagine the Duke’s fleet has gotten a little worn down over the past decades, and we’ll be happy to take the gold off him.”
“Aren’t you afraid he’ll swindle you?” Kael asked.
He shook his head. “You can’t pilfer skill, lad. We work when we’re paid. And speaking of coin,” he leaned forward, “the Witch had a fair bit of treasure stored up in her dungeons. You can have whatever you want in payment.”
Kael shook his head. “I don’t want anything, thanks. It’d just be something else to lug around.”
Shamus raised his brows. Then he laughed outright.
Lysander looked appalled. “Well that’s not very pirate-like at all. Everyone chose something.”
Shamus pursed his lips. “Yeah, but I’m still not sure why you wanted that old broken sword.”
“Broken?” Kael said.
Lysander nodded. “Jake explained it all. Because the Witch was using the L — ah, the sword — for an impetus, it was tied to her soul. So it shattered when she died. It’s all right, though. I happen to know an excellent blacksmith.”
Shamus raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know it was her impetus. That would be a prize, if you could stomach having it around.”
“Yes, that’s the difficult part,” Lysander said carefully.
He didn’t know why Lysander was keeping the Lass a secret, but after all the telling he’d done, Kael had a good mind to give Shamus the complete history of it.
Lysander must have seen the storm brewing on his face because he quickly changed the subject. “And what’ll you do, Master Kael, now that you’ve paid in full for your training?”
That question caught him off guard. He had no idea what his next step ought to be. “I suppose I’ll just continue on,” he said with a shrug.
Lysander leaned slightly forward, careful not to jost
le Aerilyn — though he had to raise his voice to be heard over her snores. “Really? Well I only asked because Morris mentioned something about a quest for vengeance. A certain, ah, rebellion against Earl Titus.”
“Did he?” For such a highly secretive lot, pirates were proving to be horrible confidants. But Kael had been around Lysander long enough to know what that tilt in his chin meant, what his overly casual airs were sure to carry with them: a bargain. And this time, he was ready for it. “Maybe that’s true. But I don’t see why it ought to matter to you.”
Lysander’s mask slipped, and he grinned. He was obviously very pleased that Kael was playing his game. “It doesn’t matter, per se. And I know you aren’t a fellow who’s interested in gold, but it seems to me that you’re nevertheless a man in need of an army.”
Kael broke a twig and tossed it into the fire. “Oh? And I suppose you think you can find me one?”
“Perhaps. But even if I do help you raise a force, we’ll have no way to transport it. We can’t move men and horses across the Kingdom if the seas are crawling with the Duke’s managers.”
He tried to play the game, he really did. But Amos was right: he simply had no patience. “Fine, what do you want? Out with it.”
His barking startled Aerilyn, briefly interrupting her string of noises. Lysander waited like a man before a snake until she went back to snoring. “The solution is simple,” he continued at a whisper. “I know a couple of fellows who might be able to help us — men on the inside. With their knowledge and your skill, we just might be able to make the ocean a little … freer.”
Shamus whistled. “You aren’t planning to sack the Duke, are you?”
Lysander made a face. “No, I’m planning to throw him in a sack, preferably with some rather large rocks, and toss him off the bow of my ship.” He turned back to Kael. “It’s very dangerous, I won’t lie to you. And even if we do succeed, we’ll have made some very dangerous enemies. But I already sleep with a dagger under my pillow, so it makes me no difference. What I need to know is: are you willing to trade safety for infamy?”
Kael thought about it — or rather, he pretended to. All he had to do was think of the children of Harborville and the ache in his gut told him exactly what must be done. “If I help you sack the Duke, will I have your help, when the time comes?”
There was no trick in the glint of his eye. “I’ll follow wherever the gales take you, friend,” he said, and held out his hand.
Kael took it. “Then the Duke had better start digging, because he’s as good as dead.”
“Excellent,” Lysander said with a grin.
There was just one other person Kael felt ought to know about the plan. He left Lysander and Shamus to their chatting and walked over to where Kyleigh slept. Though he swore his boots didn’t make a sound, she cracked one of her green eyes open before he even got close to her.
“You weren’t asleep at all, were you?” And he could tell by her smirk that he’d guessed correctly. “So I suppose you heard about our plan, then?”
She nodded, ever so slightly. She was being careful not to wake the children who slept next to her.
He knelt down so that his face was even with hers and said: “You don’t have to come along, you know. You pulled me out of the ocean. You saved me from certain death, and I know the debt between us is settled. But if you were to come with me, I certainly wouldn’t complain. I’ve never sacked a Duke before. I might need your help.”
He didn’t know what made him say it. He knew she could hear and understand him perfectly. But for some reason, being honest with a dragon was much easier than being honest with a girl.
And her answer shone clearly in her eyes: she would follow him anywhere, he didn’t have to ask.
*******
They rose with the first wink of sunlight and headed straight for the docks. Jake begged to come along and after Lysander made him swear not to cast any spells, he agreed. “You’re a useful fellow and we’re happy to have you,” he said. “Just don’t burn my ship!”
Shamus and a few of the village men came to see them off. He leaned heavily on a homemade crutch and when they stopped, he had to hold onto a dock post for balance. Or at least Kael thought it was for balance. But by the look on his face, Shamus could have been fighting to stay conscious. Because when he saw Anchorgloam he very nearly fainted.
“Tide take me. Is that who I think it is?”
Lysander smirked. “The one and only — the terror of the High Seas.”
Shamus hobbled to the gangplank and craned his neck up. “That’s her, all right. The good ship Avarice!”
Aerilyn gasped so loudly that everyone turned to look at her. Her eyes went to Lysander and got dangerously teary. Then she fled up the ramp and onto the ship — where they heard her burst into sobs.
“I said you should’ve mentioned it,” Kyleigh growled as she followed her.
“How was I to know that a ship she’d only just heard of would drive her to tears?” Lysander called after her. She made a frustrated sound and batted her hand at him, but didn’t turn around. “She’s the daughter of Garron the Shrewd,” he explained to Shamus, who nodded.
“I thought I recognized the stubborn set of her mouth. Poor lass. Garron was a blasted good merchant and an even better sailor. It broke my heart when you told me he’d passed.” Shamus cleared his throat and turned his head to the bow. “You’ve renamed her.”
“Anchorgloam is a better pirate name, don’t you think?” Lysander said with a wry smile. “I’ve kept her in order. Would you like to come aboard and have a look around?”
Shamus took a step back. “I think not. It’s bad luck to board a ship you had a hand in building. And I’ve only just got out from under the last curse. Good journey to you, Captain.” He clasped hands with Lysander, and then Kael. “You’re welcome back here anytime,” he said with a smile. “There’s a home for you in Copperdock — whenever you should want it.”
Kael didn’t know what to say to that, and anything he might have said got caught up in his chest. So he nodded once and then walked very quickly up the ramp. He went straight for the wheel — where Morris was waiting for him.
“You done it, lad! You done it!” he croaked, grinning through the wiry tangles of his beard. He pulled his arms out from between the knobs and used them to smack Kael on either shoulder. “The sun was real close to setting, but when we saw the clouds break and the tempest get sucked back into the sea, we knew you’d done it. Now steer us home!”
Kael was only too glad to take the wheel. Pretending like he was concentrating on something would keep him from having to wave goodbye to the villagers. “Which direction are we headed?”
Morris grinned. “South.”
As they pulled away from the docks, Shamus got smaller and smaller. He waved cheerily and shouted his thanks until they could no longer hear him. Kael was sorry to leave Copperdock, but he was even sorrier to leave land. He didn’t realize what a breath of fresh air their adventure had been until he found himself surrounded by ocean once again.
“Cheer up, lad,” Morris said. “We’ll sail into Gravy Bay at noon tomorrow.”
“Is that your home?”
Morris nodded. “My home, and the home of every proper hooligan of the High Seas. Pirates have always lived there. But its location is an absolute secret, understand? Not even the Duke knows where it is.”
Kael had a hard time believing that. He figured there must’ve been someone, some disgruntled mutineer, who would have sold the location to the crown. But when he said as much, Morris’s face got serious.
“Sure, there’ve been a few who tried to give it away,” he said quietly. “But if you even think about telling, Gravy’s curse will strike you dead.”
Kael believed in the curse even less than he believed in the secret location. But he was too tired to argue with Morris about it. Besides, he had other things on his mind. “So … Kyleigh’s a dragon.”
“Halfdragon,” Morris correcte
d him, and Kael felt like punching something. Had everyone known about her powers but him? “I figured you must have seen when she dove in after you. She prefers to keep it a secret, but sometimes it can’t be helped. That’s how Lysander and Thelred found out about her.”
Now he was interested. “Did she have to save them, too?”
Morris nodded. “When they were young lads, they used to go sailing on their own little boat. Matteo ordered them to stay inside the Bay, but of course Lysander didn’t listen. One day, they got caught up in a riptide and swept out to sea. We searched for hours, but then the sun fell …”
“And it was too dangerous?”
“Aye. We were more likely to run over than rescue them at that point,” he grunted, squinting his eyes against the bright sun. “Kyleigh happened to be staying in the Bay, and when we got back, she disappeared. But at sunrise we found all three of them sitting at the breakfast table — the two boys tired and burnt red as crabs, and Kyleigh splitting a glare between them.” Morris broke out a smile that quickly turned into a chuckle. “Old Matteo — oh, he was so mad! He spent a good half hour ranting before he thought to ask Kyleigh how she’d done it. Setheran made her tell, of course. She never would have oth —”
“Wait, Setheran was there?” Kael interjected, and Morris nodded. “You knew Setheran the Wright?”
“Of course I did,” Morris said, scoffing at his incredulity. “Setheran and Kyleigh fought through the Whispering War together. Now I don’t know where he found her, originally. I can’t tell you that. But,” he glanced over his shoulder and dropped his voice, “I can tell you they were the reason we won the war. They’d go off on missions for weeks at a time, and then we’d hear the news that one rebel army or another had mysteriously disappeared. I can’t prove it, of course. But,” he tapped a nub to the side of his head, “I knew it was them.”
And Kael thought he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, what Lysander meant when he said that any man who chased after Kyleigh would have to be her match in every way. He’d have to be strong, cunning, and dangerous.