I wasn’t very comforted by the half dozen caretakers roaming around the stables and cave. The ivoronsu looked like demonic beasts on the loose. But then when one soldier approached with a saddle and equipment in hand, he outfitted and mounted one of the beasts without trouble.
Though I was… wary… of the whole thing, my body was antsy to ride my own. I locked eyes with one of the caretakers. He seemed to be commanding the others to some extent. He waved me over.
“You’re Cyric?” he said as I approached.
“Lox told you I was coming,” I acknowledged.
“Yes. But that’s not why I recognized you.” He said this in a friendly tone, but added no explanation as to what it meant. “Do you know much about the ivoronsu?”
I thought a moment, trying to decide if I could fake enough to get by, but honestly I knew too little about all of it to blow off one of the only people that might help me. I didn’t want to have to learn anything from Lox; I wanted to be able to impress him. “Honestly, I don’t even know a lot about riding a horse—let alone the… you know these guys.” I gestured to them.
“It’s quite a mouthful, aye?” the caretaker said.
I half-smiled in response.
He answered a question from one of his underlings, then he turned back to me. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t know about riding horses. The ivoronsu are nothing like them. It’ll probably make it easier. All you need to know is that the ivoronsu can’t see.”
“They what?” I asked.
“They can’t see,” he repeated. “They’re blind.”
I held the caretaker’s gaze, then looked skeptically at the hoard of them galloping on my right.
“Obviously they have eyes, but they’re of no use to them,” he went on. “As you ride yours you’ll learn to understand the disadvantages and advantages this brings. I’ll take you to yours now, if you’re ready?”
He waited for me to give consent, which I did with a wave of my hand. He went back the stables to grab a saddle and bridle, then started walking towards the mass of ivoronsu. I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t wary walking through them, I mean, not only were they freakish, they were apparently blind. I was amazed none of them rammed us.
“Of course, they can see at night just fine,” the caretaker said.
“Huh?”
“At night, or down in their caves. Their eyes work fine to see in the dark, that’s why we keep them down underground. They prefer it where they can see.”
I made no reaction to the caretaker, but my mind was rambling with this news—mostly over what Lox had said to me before when we were in the tunnel. If ivoronsu could see in the dark, while I could see in the light… I was sure this must have been what he was talking about when he’d said there was a reason I’d be fond of them. Fond was a mild way to put it; I was going to be invincible.
“That one there is yours,” the caretaker said, breaking me out of my thoughts.
I looked where he was pointing, and it was easy to see the one he meant, because it was a good distance away from the others.
But that wasn’t the only difference.
This ivoronsu was hardly distinguishable as an ivoronsu at all. Its hair was so dusky that it could only just barely be called black. The skull mark on its face was present, but so pale that it was hard to see it at all. The strangest part was the ivoronsu’s demeanor. Instead of racing around like the others, it had its head bent towards the earth, where it was slowly chewing mouthfuls of grass. It was a picture of serenity. It even periodically shook of the black wisps of smoke surrounding it.
Its ear flicked as we approached.
It brought its head up and cocked it towards us.
The caretaker took a quick glance at me, which I didn’t miss, then walked up to the ivoronsu and tried to place the saddle on its back.
He got it on, but as he bent down to buckle it underneath, the ivoronsu shook its body and moved forward a few feet, causing the saddle to fall from its back.
“It… seems kind of different,” I said.
The caretaker pressed his lips, then tried again with the saddle. “Yes, we have a name for this one…. But I won’t tell it to you. Every rider is supposed to pick his own ivoronsu’s name. Part of the bonding process.”
Another ivoronsu came running beside the one I was supposed to get. Mine backed away from him with a loud neighing—as if it had been offended.
The caretaker finally got the saddle on. My ivoronsu happily went back to eating.
“Isn’t there another one I can have?” I asked.
“The ivoronsu are put through a strict rotation. We have to give every one a chance to be ridden, or they’ll become wild—even dangerous.”
“Somehow I can’t picture this thing causing trouble.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” said the caretaker. Then he stood apart. “Give it a try. You wouldn’t be the first to give up on him if you decide to. But if you do, don’t expect a chance with one of the others.”
“You’re saying I’m stuck with this one, no matter what? You sure Lox is okay with that?”
The caretaker smirked a little. “If you think Malatos Lox has time to bother with passing out horses, we live in two different worlds. Perhaps you think he’ll be getting you a room in the palace next?”
My face went placid, but I let my eyes fall back on the questionable ivoronsu. It kept swinging its tail back and forth like it was dancing to a tune.
“I’ll give you one last piece of advice,” the caretaker said. He held something black up beside me. It was a long, thin whip. He handed it to me, then nodded his head back at the ivoronsu. “A beast that calm isn’t going to do you much good in battle. If you’re interested in surviving, I would do something to perk him up.”
With that, the caretaker left me—carrying only his empty bag of equipment back across the field. I noticed as I watched him go that a couple more soldiers had shown up to ride their ivoronsu.
I turned back to mine with a dark brow. I was trying to pretend first and foremost that I wasn’t scared of the idea of riding the thing. I stared him down for a while. He lifted his head up eventually, cocking his ear towards me again. He took a few steps forwards, then put his hot, hairy, nose in my face. It took everything in me to stay still.
He took three whiffs of my hair and face, then blew out a rolling exhale and walked to a nearby tree. I thought he was done with his display, when he suddenly bent on one knee—and dropped onto his side so that his entire body was lying in the grass.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, looking between him and the ivoronsu rearing back on its hind-legs nearby.
I considered the whip in my hand.
With a sigh, I discarded it, then I walked bravely towards the ivoronsu.
“How about I won’t use that if you stand up,” I suggested.
Then I remembered he wouldn’t have been able to see me throw the whip, let alone understand what I’d said.
As predicted, he completely ignored me. I clapped—a few times. “Up boy!”
He rolled back further.
“Great—why do I always seem to be put with these types,” I muttered.
“Try shouting at it,” suggested one of the nearby riders. I hadn’t noticed they’d been watching me. “They’re bloodthirsty things. They respond well to violent demands.”
“Mine likes to run down animals,” said another. “I tie up a squirrel or two for it every once in a while. They’re easy enough to catch.”
As the soldiers continued racing around, I looked back at my ivoronsu with a low brow.
“Okay…,” I drawled. There was no chance I was going to tie up a squirrel, but I walked closer to my ivoronsu and stuck a finger out.
“Get up, horse,” I repeated forcefully. When it didn’t move, I added, “Yar!” Because it seemed like a yelling thing to do. Unfortunately it sounded so ridiculous to me that I started laughing halfway through it.
Much to my surprise, this drew a resp
onse from the ivoronsu. It lifted its head up, its ear to me.
I decided to yar again, but when that didn’t work, I made myself laugh—which I could do easily enough by picturing the hilariously disproportionate nose that one of my fellow recruits possessed.
My ivoronsu stood itself up instantly. It made its way straight to me, then dug its ear towards my mouth, as if it were inspecting the sound I was making. It made me laugh harder; I put a hand on its neck without thinking. It had really slick skin. It started neighing and shaking a little, so that I couldn’t help but wonder if it was impersonating my laugh. Thinking of the other ivoronsu, who apparently enjoyed running over small woodland creatures, this was hard to believe. But I was done wasting my opportunity either way. In the midst of his shaking, I slipped my boot into the saddle and flipped up onto his back.
He bucked immediately; all his laughing seemed to have stopped.
My heart jumped. I suddenly wished I hadn’t moved so quickly. I put my hands on his neck, mostly for my own consolement. “Okay,” I said, “just let me get down. I’m sorry. I’ll get off. Just stay still.”
But the ivoronsu didn’t listen to my request, instead he reared up so high that I thought I might fall off the back, then dove forward into a gallop so fast that I could hardly keep my fingers from digging into his coat. I’d never moved so fast on anything my entire life.
We passed the two other riders on the field and this was not something their ivoronsu enjoyed. In fact a half a dozen other ivoronsu had caught our sound (or scent or something) and they were chasing at our heels, now joined by the two riders. I was sure we’d be overtaken, but the first moment one of them got close to my ivoronsu, it leapt and took off at an even greater speed. The horizon raced ahead of us. I released my grip on my ivoronsu’s neck just enough to glance back. He’d left the others in the dust, where they were curving back towards the field, but my ivoronsu just kept racing through the grass and trees.
I laughed, and he whinnied. “Good boy,” I said.
This had a reaction that I could by now predict. He took off even faster towards the horizon.
~ ~ ~
CHAPTER SIX
ELLIA:
*
Were there words to describe the departure of Estrid Larke’s ship into the ocean, I would not have ventured to collect them. I thought it could much more easily be displayed by a drawing or a comparison in nature—perhaps of a baby bird taking its first aim at flight from a high tree and falling swiftly, helplessly towards the earth just before spreading its wings and sweeping up into a safe landing. The only difference in the case of the ship was that we had fallen from the tip of a waterfall and landed in the ocean. No matter that we had passed the danger of the crashing waves closest to the cliffs and shore, we had dropped into the midst of a frightening sea of swells. Up and down, up and down, with furious winds and rain for hours.
But I would almost have traded what we were experiencing now for all of that. We’d been on the ocean for days. The weather for that entire time had been sunny and only slightly windy, which meant that Estrid’s small sailboat didn’t gain much speed. The only place we had to escape it was the small cabin below deck, which was generally reserved for whoever needed rest. I was so tanned by the sun that I was sure no one would suspect me as being from Shaundakul again—even though once we reached our destination I wouldn’t have to hide it. Or if we reached our destination.
“Let’s stop rowing for now,” Estrid said—to my great relief. “I want to take another look at the map.”
While she easily flipped and lifted her oar out of the water, it took me forever to pull mine up and then even longer to slide it in enough to make sure that it wouldn’t fall back in.
“I thought you had to wait for the stars,” I said, dusting my tunic.
Estrid had walked back to the middle of the boat. She had her telescope aimed at the sky. She made notes on the papers set out on her table as she answered. “It’s nearing dusk. I can see them well enough,” she said.
I took a dubious look at the sky. I really wouldn’t have called it nearing dusk.
Minstrel plucked a few notes on his lyre, which he was playing from on top of the cabin roof—the highest point of the boat. “The stars, the stars, sailor’s patron by far. Lead them strongly by night, few in daytime alight.”
“But the greatest of seaman,” Estrid broke in. “Know enough not to need them. So long as there’s three, a destination they’ll see.”
This wasn’t the first time Estrid and Minstrel had continued each other’s songs. Minstrel ended it with a strum.
I smiled.
“If only we could be sure we’ll reach the right destination,” Estrid said.
“Do you really not know where we are?” I asked.
“No. I know exactly where we are.” She bit into an apple so that it stuck in her mouth, then pulled it out to gesture to the table. “Just about where Yanartas is supposed to be by the account of all these maps. We’ve been through up over and around it. I’ve had enough experience with poor directions to guess where the true location might be, but we’ve checked all of my best guesses. Unless each one of these mapmakers got much further off course than they realized, it can only be assumed that none of them actually reached Yanartas.”
I narrowed. Minstrel stopped his tune picking. “What are you saying?” I asked.
Estrid pressed both of her hands into the edge of the table. “I’m saying that the location for Yanartas on these maps is wrong. The mapmakers probably heard enough to know to put it in the Aerian Sea, and west of Karatel, but had no idea to its real location.”
“So we’re not going to be able to reach Yanartas?” I asked.
“Not unless we can get real coordinates. I’m not one to give up on a voyage,” she said, “but we’ll have to head back once our supplies are only enough to last us the return voyage. And to be honest, I don’t know where else to look now without guessing at random.”
“At sea, at sea, we’re lost at sea. Perhaps our aim was not to be.”
I could tell this was one of Minstrel’s self-composed tunes, they were usually short and perfectly applicable to what was happening in the present.
I balled my hands up into fists, tension building in my arms, then I turned around and faced the ocean. I dropped my elbows on the rail and covered my face with my hands. I didn’t want to be the one to say that we should head back. After everything, I didn’t want to give up on Yanartas. It was all that I had left.
“But forsooth,” said Minstrel, very calmly. “The lady is sad. Such a grim tilt of shoulder this minstrel has never seen…. I find am too young to grasp its meaning, too happy to grasp its depth.” He paused, and when he began again, his voice was louder.
*
The ocean has proved as cold and cruel as life can be
Upon seeing its waves and ferocious breaking I thought it held a generous peacefulness
Now I find the creator hid no mysteries
How this draws me to wonder why one so great would make sights we would yearn for but never reach.
How this pains me to wonder why one so large and able would leave us helpless.
The lady is sad. She is my friend, but I am small and I cannot help her.
*
As his voice trailed, I turned to Minstrel. Even Estrid was looking at him, her arched brows finally still. The gnome was gazing at the sea with more depth and distance than his own words attested to.
I heard a splash behind me. It wasn’t distracting enough to draw my attention, but when the boat suddenly jerked around, then began to spin, I leaned over the side to look down.
The water was swirling.
I felt Estrid rush over beside me, and soon Minstrel had joined us—though he could barely see over the edge. The swirling got faster and louder.
“What’s happening?” I asked Estrid.
Her eyes were wide. “Sea serpents, krakens, whirlpools—I told you we could run into anything in uncharted
waters. I’ve been through the first two and they didn’t cause so much of a spin, so I’d bet this is a whirlpool.”
The masses of ropes that had been hanging on the sides of the ship were loose and being drug by the current. “Is there anything we can do?” I asked.
Estrid gripped her jaw. Water splashed over the side and Minstrel slipped and fell into me. Just when it looked like Estrid was about to take action, a form suddenly exploded out of the water. It was followed by a dozen more. They dived back into the water, then the ship shot out in one direction. I flew back onto the deck. Minstrel landed on my lap. Only Estrid remained standing, her hand wrapped around a rope. Her eyes were wide on the front of the boat.
“Tell me I’m seeing things,” she shouted. She had to be loud to overpower the sound of splashing and… something else. A clacky sort of squealing.
Minstrel and I pulled ourselves up. Then we saw, in front of the boat, what could only have been a pack of sea creatures. They were every different size and type. Dolphins, turtles, porpoises, eels. I grew a smile, even before I noticed a few of them had a handle on the ropes attached to our boat. It wasn’t a whirlpool pulling us fast through the water, it was them.
“What’s going on?” I asked Estrid. She was now standing beside at the front of the boat, and Minstrel was on my other side.
“I have no idea,” she answered, “but I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Where do you think they’re taking us?” I asked.
She shook her head, wide-eyed.
I was surprised when Minstrel spoke next. “I think they m-m-might be taking us to the Isle of Yanartas.”
He was standing on a crate so that he could see over the edge. I turned to him. “How do you know, Minstrel?” I asked.
His light hair blew around his face as he answered. “I think that I may have called them.”
#
I knew Minstrel was right the moment I saw the fires. And not just about our destination—he had been the one to call the creatures. His voice was otherworldly and his words meaningful; he did not in my mind need to see the Warriors of Cirali to fulfill his destiny.
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