by Dawn Peers
“What? Me and you?”
“There might be some men on board with lesser gifts. Nothing so much that we should be bothered about, but enough for the Sighs to be interested in us. But, the main thing we have on board is you. I think the Sighs take an interest whenever there’s an empath in their midst.”
“Why did I have to be born this way? I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t want to be Sammah’s daughter. I don’t want to be Pax’s pawn. I thought that, when Vance exiled me to Sha’sek, I’d be free.”
“No one is free, girl. No matter how old we get, or how wise, we always have other people making our decisions for us.”
“The baron seems to be making a lot of his own choices.”
“You think that’s right? He’s making decisions that he thinks are for the good of Sha’sek. He believes he is sparing others from making those hard choices. Like his brother, he thinks we serve a higher purpose, that the people of Sha’sek deserve more than they have. The way you were treated in Everfell has only reinforced that opinion, I fear.”
“It was Sammah who treated me poorly in Everfell, not anyone else. Why does there have to be conflict at all?”
“Because, so long as the people of Everfell fear us, there will always be conflict between our people. It has to end, somehow, and the only way it has ever looked like ending, is through bloodshed.”
“But that’s ridiculous! Why can’t they just talk? Lynton has lived in Farn. Why can’t he just tell Vance what Sha’sek is really like. Rhi’s singing, dancing troupes, they’re not dangerous people. Everfell has nothing to fear!”
“You don’t think that’s been tried? That they didn’t try to stop war the first time? We’re not fools, Quinn. Peace was rejected.”
“That was years ago, though, Tarik. Can’t they try again? Times have changed. There must be a peaceful way of fixing this.”
“You’d think that, as a man gifted effectively to kill others, I would prefer the wars. Do you have any idea how depressing it is to know that your special gift is only any good for destroying life?”
“Do you know what it feels like to know what everyone else is thinking? Without wanting it, you know if someone is lying to you, or despises you?” Quinn countered. She wasn’t sure which one was worse, but she wasn’t going to give Tarik the sympathy he was looking for. Eden headed towards them, wiping his hands on his trousers.
“Everything and everyone is on board.” Eden went to Quinn, taking one of her hands in his. “Are you okay? Do you need me to speak to the crew?”
“There’s nothing they can do about it, Eden. I think it would be best if I stayed on my own, in a cabin through the whole crossing. Don’t let me out. That way I can try to keep distracted.”
Eden looked horrified. “I’m not going to leave you on your own during this crossing, Quinn. Especially not across the Sighs.”
Quinn didn’t want to put Eden at risk; she didn’t trust herself, nor her control of her extended powers, with Eden being the only focus of her attention. The intense pain she’d felt with the malice she’d directed at the mercenary before propelling him overboard. With that kind of ability, what could she possibly do to Eden, left alone with him? Her heart had leapt when she’d seen him walk into that ballroom, and despite his injuries, she’d seen the way he’d looked at her. She’d felt his desire, and her own matched it. If the Sighs made her lose control—and worse, made her bend others to her own will, what could she do to Eden without restraint?
As whistles rang out and sailors started to dart around her, the ship lurched out of port. She saw the baron, the malicious grin still on his face, standing on the jetty watching her leave. She didn’t hail him. She never wanted to see his face again. Sha’sek; Everfell. It didn’t matter where she was. People wanted to control her; they wanted her power. They didn’t want Quinn. She wrapped her arm around Eden’s waist, and rested her head on his shoulder. He shrouded her in a hug and Quinn ignored Tarik’s snort, as her swordmaster stalked off, presumably to find his cabin.
33
The captain had told her it would be a full day of sailing before they reached the strait of the Sighs, so Quinn had decided she would follow through with her request for more sword training. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she had enjoyed the discipline of the craft. The concentration it took had distracted her from keeping her abilities in check, and the longer she reflected on it the more she wanted to go the opposite way—drill herself into using her abilities to try to anticipate other’s moves. There had to be more to being an empath than the political anguish she’d so far brought on herself. Quinn was determined to carve a niche for herself in this world dominated by men vying for a throne that no one seemed to deserve.
Eden joined her, initially through curiosity, and a claim that he was out of practice in swordplay. As a captain of the guard, or a former one at least, from his homeland of Sevenspells, this was unacceptable. There was also the tenuous situation of Sammah and his escape. None of them knew what kind of chaos they would be coming into when they arrived back in court, and they both wanted to be prepared. Eden was openly encouraging Quinn’s practice. It was good, he said, that she would be able to protect herself when no one was expecting it. They all still remembered the meek Quinn that Aaron had reflected on in their camp. What they would be getting, Eden had said, would be more like a hawk. Stunning, and gracefully lethal.
Tarik had been delighted to have two students to berate. Eden hadn’t surprised him. Tarik expected a lot of men from Sevenspells, and so Eden’s reputation had preceded him. The Guardsman-cum-chamberlain was going through solo drills now, as Quinn perched on a crate. Tarik stood next to her, leaning on a staff, examining the lord’s movements.
“Does he pass your examination?”
Tarik grunted at Quinn’s question. “He’d take a few years of training, but I think he’d be passable. I’ve only had to shout at him three times so far, which is a massive improvement on what you were like.”
“I wasn’t brought up with a sword in my hand.”
“A fair point, girl,” Tarik regarded her out of the side of one eye. “What do you think of your lordling?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your future? What do you think is going to happen?”
Quinn was avoiding thinking about the future, and she knew it. Eden had so far dodged conversations about what had been going on in the court prior to his leaving for Sha’sek and Quinn was fearful that matches were being made to forge new alliances across the provinces. Quinn swallowed. She had to keep being honest, and keep facing the difficult truths. “He’ll be married off to a woman of appropriate political standing.”
“And you’re not that?”
Quinn laughed, a bitter noise that brought Eden’s attention. She waved at him, and he continued weaving with his sword, trying to match his movements to the swaying of the ship. “No. An exiled empath from a backwater town and of uncertain Sha’sekian origins, is no match for a noble from the house of Sevenspells.”
“Does Eden have a say in this, do you think?”
“I’ve met his father. I doubt it.”
“Is this the same father who is in the gaols awaiting trial?”
“He was. If Sammah’s escaped, then I’ve got no idea what’s happened to Shiver.”
“King Vance wouldn’t let him free, would he?”
“No, but Shiver was allied with Sammah. If one has escaped, then the other could have escaped as well.”
“How do you both feel about that?”
Quinn hadn’t asked Eden how he felt about his father’s allegiances; he hadn’t asked her about how she felt about Sammah. They had both been silent about most things to each other. Their reunion had been almost inevitable. Since then, they just seemed to be silently going through the motions. What were they both avoiding?
“Very good, Eden. You might even be good enough to fight in a Sha’sekian formation one day.”
Eden lowered his sword and laughed.
His skin was dampened with a sheen of sweat and sea spray. Quinn couldn’t take her eyes off him. On the horizon, a thick fog was forming. Sea birds had abandoned the ship. No one had noticed, yet. “I don’t think my father would take that very well. Still, I take the compliment.”
“You think that was praise?”
Eden grinned. “It certainly didn’t sound like criticism.”
“Time for a change. Quinn, take up your sword. Let’s see what you remember of these basic drills.”
“Me? Against him?”
“You don’t see anyone else around here, do you?”
Quinn tried to stop her hand from shaking as she picked up the training sword Tarik proffered. She wasn’t a fighter; she had barely started learning. And Tarik wanted her to spar with Eden?
“Come on, Quinn?” Eden swung his sword around in a loose circle. “I’ll go easy on you.”
He was teasing her, trying to be playful, but his sarcastic works sparked a fire that Quinn couldn’t suppress. She gripped the hilt tighter. Of all the men in her life, she knew that he would not want to hurt her. But there was something about the way he’d said it—that he’d go easy on her—that made her want to show him that she didn’t need his condescension.
“Okay, my lord.” Quinn sketched him a mocking bow. “You’re well versed at slow drills. You didn’t tell Tarik that, did you?”
Quinn looked over her shoulder and Tarik shrugged, “I’m not surprised by his form. There are many traveling fighters. I’ll probably have heard of him.”
“Under?”
Tarik grinned. “Maybe I’ll spar with him next.”
Quinn and Eden started circling each other. She paid attention to his feet and his torso, like Tarik had taught her. The movements of the body would tell you, if you paid attention, where the sword would be swinging next. The drills were deliberately slow so that you had to keep your attention constant. Quinn found herself absorbed in the dance. Despite their past, she had never concentrated on Eden’s body so closely, and it was a fascinating study. He moved with precision, and she found herself sweating to make sure she kept her own dance in time to keep his sword away from her body.
She managed to get through a full set of drills with Eden only landing four blows on her. Quinn was proud of this, and she couldn’t keep the grin off her face. Eden was infected, and smiled by return. “You’re actually quite good!”
“Actually? You were surprised?”
“I don’t get to spar against many women; I don’t have a basis for comparison.”
“Then why don’t you compare me to the boys you spar against?”
“That would be unfair; the men I usually train with have done this for years.”
“I said boys.”
Eden laughed. “You’d beat the hides of all the boys. You’d be training with our men soon enough. You’re a good teacher, Tarik.”
The master was looking at them both keenly, and the cry of the captain rolled out over deck. “Fog’s rolling in! The Sighs want another piece of us. Tie down and get yourselves below deck!”
Quinn turned as Tarik moved towards Eden. She anticipated too late what was happening. Ross, too, was moving across the deck with long and purposeful strides, but he’d get to them all too late. None of the men on the ship were close enough to stop Tarik from raising his sword and engaging with Eden. It might have only been a test blade, but in hands as skilled as Tarik’s, Eden was in danger. The lord knew it, and Eden cried out as he started moving backwards, his feet slipping on the sheen of the decking. Tarik raised his blade and struck again and again, lost within his abilities as the power of the Sighs took hold.
Quinn screamed out, wanting to stop them, but not wanting to lose her grip on her own powers. She was furious at Tarik and petrified for Eden, but the blademaster wasn’t responsible for this. Quinn couldn’t use her power on him—couldn’t kill him—just because he was a victim to the obscene power of the Sighs.
“Stop! Both of you, stop!”
The thick accent of the captain rose out over the clatter of the blade-play, but neither men paid him any heed. Ross reached them, and skittered around as the men danced around either other, Tarik looking for a killing blow and Eden desperately and barely holding him at bay.
“Hold! Both of you, hold!”
Ross was ignored, too. “Help me!” Eden cried desperately, as one of Tarik’s blows caused his blade to crack. Splinters flew into his face and he dropped, covering his eyes involuntarily with his arm as he struggled to see. Tarik saw his opening, and started sweeping the blunt wooden sword around in an arc that would bring it sickeningly against Eden’s skull. Quinn saw all this in her mind, and, as the fog of the Sighs now wrapped around her, she screamed at Tarik. The noise was a bestial cry of fear and fury, and all the men around her covered their ears and dropped to their knees. Tarik released his sword mid-swing, and it went flying across the deck without hitting anyone.
Quinn didn’t have control any more, either. Tarik was the only man in her way. All she knew, was that she didn’t want Tarik to hurt Eden. It wasn’t the same as the mercenary; there was no malice here. Tarik had been lost in the grip of his own madness, and that, perhaps, saved his life.
Quinn’s scream stopped, but the channel of power that she’d released did not cease. She was pushing Tarik back; forcing him to the ground and preventing him from bearing arms against Eden. The men that had initially been shocked prone were starting to rise, but Tarik was sinking lower, hands over his ears and eyes squeezed shut. His nose was bleeding, and his own yell was rising to match the noise Quinn had made. Eden looked up at Quinn, still dazed from the onslaught he’d faced.
Ross recovered quicker than everyone else around him. “Quinn… Quinn! You need to snap out of this. Quinn?”
Quinn heard him, but as if from a distance, as if the thick fog of the Sighs were a barrier blocking noise. She had an inextricable link to Tarik now, and like before, she didn’t know how to stop the flow of power.
“Help me.” Quinn squeezed out the words as the edges of her vision started turning black.
Ross heard her. Without thinking, he slapped her backhanded across her cheek. Hard.
Quinn reeled back, but the link to Tarik was still there. It wasn’t enough. Ross was going to have to knock her out.
“Again.”
Ross shook his head, horror already registering on his face at what he’d done.
“Again!”
This time, without realising, Quinn had screamed. The sailors that were panicking around them had stepped back, and Eden vomited. Ross hesitated, and Quinn screamed it again. This time, her throat tore, and Tarik’s own screams started reaching shrill heights. Ross glanced at the blademaster again, and this time he didn’t hesitate. He pulled back his arm, and fist tight, he hit Quinn square in the jaw. Quinn felt a blissful release as her link to Tarik dropped, before pain bloomed in her face, and she fell to the deck, finally unconscious.
34
“How are you feeling?”
Quinn groaned, not wanting to open her eyes as she rolled her jaw around. She knew without touching it that it was swollen. She tongued her teeth, and recoiled as she felt yet more pain. There was at least one loose. She hadn’t deserved it, but she’d asked for it. She didn’t hold it against Ross.
“Like I’ve been knocked out by a war veteran.”
“You’ve been out for almost a day.”
Quinn didn’t feel like it. Her head was thick, and not just because of the blow from Ross. The last time this had happened, she’d needed Maertn’s healing. It was miraculous, she knew, that she was even awake. What did that mean for her empathic abilities now? Was it like the time she had left the Beach of Bones? Did she have full control now, over the control of others? Her mind shot to Tarik, and she went cold. “Tarik—how is he?”
Quinn opened her eyes and met Eden’s gaze. He was propped up on an elbow beside her, his head resting in his hand. Light poked in through the porthole window, and Qui
nn was relieved to see clear skies. They were through the Sea of Sighs, but had there been a sacrifice this time?
“He’s sleeping. He hasn’t woken up yet.”
Quinn closed her eyes again. Sleeping wasn’t dead. She hadn’t killed him. “Will he live?”
“We don’t know. We don’t have a skilled healer on board. We’re going to send messages back to the islands and ask for someone to be sent over. Tarik will stay in Port Kahnel when we land. What did you do to him, Quinn?”
“He was going to kill you, Eden.”
“I know that. I don’t understand it. I’ve heard about what the Sea of Sighs can do. I thought it was all tales to scare small children, especially after I made the first crossing myself without a problem. And so many Everfell men have crossed before without anything happening.”
“That’s because Everfell men aren’t born with gifts, Eden.”
“That’s what I’ve been told. So, it’s true? The Sighs made Tarik lose control of his ability? Like you lost control of yours?”
“That’s not entirely what happens, Eden.”
“It seemed pretty clear to me from where I was standing.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
Pain lanced through Quinn’s jaw up to her temple, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She felt Eden’s hand gently stroke her other jaw, and she leaned into that touch. “You don’t have to tell me anything yet. You need to rest more, Quinn. We’ll be in Port Kahnel by the end of tomorrow. You should spend it down here, sleeping. It’s not going to get any easier when we get to Everfell.”
“You need to know, Eden. Before we go any further, you need to know what the Sighs can do.”
“Why?”
“Because it changes me. And that’s important for us.”
“Here. Drink this before you tell me anything else.”
He reached behind him, and handed her a cold noxious mug. She sniffed it and handed it back. “Have you been taking lessons from Maertn, too?”