Breaking the Suun

by J. A. Culican

  I knocked Estrid’s swords away, one after the other, and spun, coming in low. It was her weakness—she liked to go high. But she didn’t let me in, dancing away easily, avoiding the reach of my blades. We were in the courtyard between the temple and the hedge maze, alone except for a few of the priest’s maids tending the garden. They were watching us surreptitiously, having not quite mastered the art of indifference their mistress had.

  Stiarna, who had disappeared all night, sat on a distant crumbling stone wall sunning herself. Arun was doing some repairs on the Iron Duchess, while Xalph and Grissall played in the maze. Their shouts and laughter were the only sounds in the entire world other than the clashing of our blades.

  We were evenly matched, both of us fast and ruthless. Every lunge met with a block. Every step met with another. Erik had grown bored and was practicing on his own, ignoring us as he battled an invisible opponent. The sun was rising higher in the sky, and there was no shade except for that cast by the temple’s towers. Sweat dripped into my eyes and made my hands slick, but I hadn’t been this happy in a long time.

  She was testing my left side, the side that had been injured by the ur’gel in the attack on Barepost. Her attacks came one after the other, and I deflected all of them with the ax in my left hand. My shoulder ached, and my hand burned. I spun, trying to move her to my right, but she just went with me, relentlessly trying to prove her point. That we would just have to fight through the pain. Live with it. Deal with it. Use it.

  But even Estrid was wearing out. One sloppy swing was all it took, and I was on the offensive again, driving her back toward the entrance to the hedge maze. I went low, and even though she was expecting it this time, she wasn’t expecting my foot to lash out and sweep her feet out from under her. She landed on her hip but didn’t pause, her own feet scissoring around my ankles and jerking me down.

  We collapsed onto the ground, side by side, laughing and panting, the grass hot against my back and the sun bright enough I had to close my eyes.

  Erik came over and nudged me with his boot.

  I squinted up at his silhouette.

  “Are you going to tell us what the priest told you?” he asked.

  “Vague ramblings you might expect from a priest.”

  “But are you … the heir?” He sat beside me and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

  I kept my eyes on his boots instead of his face. “No.”

  Estrid pushed herself onto her elbows. “She said no? Thank Onen, I knew it but—”

  “Not exactly,” I said. “Just that he shouldn’t count on me.”

  She collapsed back onto the ground, laughing.

  On my other side, Erik snickered. “I thought she would at least tell us something we didn’t already know.”

  “You guys are very funny.” I pushed myself up until I was sitting and hugged my knees to my chest.

  “Oh, Frida.” Erik put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me tight against him in a half-hug. “You didn’t think it was true, did you?”

  I fought against him, pushing myself back upright and off his shoulder. “Well, no,” I admitted, “but it is weird, right?”

  “What’s weird?” Estrid asked. “That someone would think you’re Onen Suun’s heir?”

  I pulled a face at her over my shoulder. “The mark. That Onen Suun had the same one and was supposed to pass it on to his descendants. Is it just a coincidence?”

  “If it were the mark of Onen Suun, wouldn’t your mother have had it, too?”

  “You’re sure she didn’t?”

  Estrid nodded, no longer joking. “She didn’t. She was a normal woman. Kind, beautiful, smart, but normal.”

  Kind, beautiful, and smart enough to leave me, her daughter, when I was just three years old. “What did you think when the mark appeared?”

  “At first it just looked like dirt.”

  Erik nudged my back. “You were a very dirty child.”

  I rolled my eyes at him.

  Estrid continued, “I remember I couldn’t keep you still enough to wipe it off, so I just thought it was dirt for the longest time. But instead of fading or washing off in the bath, it just got darker and more defined. When I finally asked Father about it, he told me just what he always says—that it was a blessing from the ancestors.”

  I wiped my finger across the mark as if I could rub it away. “Did he ever seem sad that she left?”

  Erik shrugged. “You know how Father is.”

  “He turned it into a learning opportunity,” Estrid added, as if I needed an explanation. Father was a teacher before he was a warrior. He’d treated our upbringing as one big test. He was always asking us what we thought, what we would do, what the next steps were in any given situation. “So, even if he was sad, he didn’t let us see.”

  “Do you think my mom knew something? Is that why she left?”

  “Better yet,” Erik added, “do you think Father knows something?”

  Why had I never thought of that? They said my mother arrived in Bor’sur with no family and no desire to talk about her past. Our father had taken her under his protection—Love at first sight, he always said—and ten months later, I was born. Was it possible he had known she was a descendant of Onen Suun, and their child would be, too? But Estrid had said my mother didn’t have the mark. So, was it possible, then, she’d already been pregnant when she’d come to Bor’sur? Had my father raised a stranger’s child? And if so, why had she left me behind with a family that wasn’t my own?

  “I think he must know something,” I said quietly. “But why wouldn’t he tell me?”

  Erik shrugged. “To spare you. To make sure you fit in.”

  “Well, it didn’t work.” I flopped back down beside Estrid, and Erik stretched out on my other side, folding his arms under his head.

  “What do you mean?” Estrid asked, her eyes closed as the sun crept slowly across the garden, warming our leathers and staining our cheeks pink.

  I chewed on my bottom lip before answering, giving voice to a feeling I’d always been afraid to bring up. “I’ve always been on the outside. There’s just something you two have that I’m missing.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Estrid swatted at me blindly.

  “You’re a Svand,” Erik said, “no matter what anyone else says. Or doesn’t say.”

  When I didn’t respond, Estrid sat up and turned to face me. Her sword was in her lap, and she ran a slender finger along its length. “Look, Erik and I spent the first several years of our lives as just the two of us. In the selfish way of children, we never expected Father to find another wife, and we certainly didn’t expect there to be another baby. So, maybe you’re right. Maybe there is something between us that you don’t share, like the years that it was just the two of us, but that doesn’t make what you have with us any less special. Or any less real. You’re our little sister, no matter who your ancestors are.”

  Listening to her, all I could think about was the time she and Erik had sent me into a tree to retrieve one of Father’s arrows that Erik had shot into the branches and lost. They told me I was smaller and lighter and quicker. That there was no one better for the job. On the way down, my trousers had snagged on a broken branch and I hadn’t been able to work them free. I’d shouted for help, but Erik—to whom I’d already thrown the arrow—had turned to Estrid.

  “Do you hear anything?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Just the wind.”

  And they’d skipped happily away, the arrow in hand. I’d stayed in that tree until nightfall when a hunter had passed below on his way back to Bor’sur and helped me down.

  I was a little worried Estrid was doing the same thing to me now—saying what I wanted to hear. Keeping me complacent and happy. What would it take for me to become invisible to them? If we discovered the truth wasn’t what I wanted to hear? At what point would they leave me again?

  “Maybe it is just a coincidence,” Erik said after a pause, “especially if the priest did
n’t agree with Beru.”

  I tried to remember exactly what it was Lunla had said. What her non-answer had been. She’d told me I would play a part in the fight that was coming. And she’d told me to be prepared for what I might find, even if what I found wasn’t what I wanted or expected. I was that little girl in a tree again, chasing an arrow I couldn’t see.

  I only hoped when I came crashing down, Erik and Estrid would still be there to catch me.

  Chapter 3

  I swiped a finger into a sauce simmering on the stove and popped it into my mouth. It was thick and creamy, somehow both salty and sweet. Delicious.

  The cook, one of the only women not wearing orange robes, swatted at me with a wooden spoon.

  “Hands off,” she ordered. “It’s not ready yet.”

  The temple’s kitchen had become one of my favorite places on the plateau. It was hot and crowded and loud, but it smelled divine, and all the noise kept the grim thoughts at bay. Who I was didn’t matter when I was faced with the even more pressing question—what’s for dinner?

  “If you’re going to be in here, you can at least help.” The cook pounded a mound of dough into submission as she spoke, a halo of white flour around her black braids.

  From her spot on a stool near the door, Estrid called, “You’ll regret that. She’ll burn the place down.”

  I glared at her. “I’ve told you, Gerves didn’t tell me—”

  The cook held up a hand. “No bickering in the kitchen. And no talking of burning places down. I’m not trying to anger Vulca when we finally have guests at the temple.”

  I didn’t think the god of fire much cared what I did or did not burn, but I kept my opinion to myself, only because I didn’t want to anger the cook.

  “I meant you could fetch the others—the elf and the children. Tell them to wash for dinner.”

  The elf. I hadn’t talked to Arun since before we’d landed. He’d known why we were coming, but he didn’t yet know what Lunla had told me. I wasn’t even sure what Lunla had told me, and I didn’t really feel like rehashing it again with someone else. Even though I would be interested to hear what he had to say. He always had a unique point of view.

  I left the kitchen and followed the winding stone corridor to the front of the temple. The Iron Duchess was docked in the front garden, her sails rolled tight. Arun balanced on the rigging high on the mainmast, replacing a piece of broken wood.

  “Ahoy there,” I called up to him with a smile.

  He glanced down, saw me, and held up a finger. “I’ll be right there.”

  The gangplank had been pulled back inside, so instead, I climbed the cargo nets at the hull and pulled myself over the railing.

  “Try doing that when we’re thousands of feet in the air.” Arun dropped to the deck a few yards away. He unhooked the heavy tool belt from his waist and let it fall to the deck. He was sweating, his long, brown hair sticking to his face and neck. He pulled it back and deftly wrapped it with a length of cord.

  “You know I’m always up for a challenge.” I grinned at him. It felt nice to talk to him again, just the two of us. It reminded me of when we’d explored the yooperlite cavern. It had been only days ago, but it felt like a different lifetime. “What were you doing up there?” I pointed to the mainmast.

  “Fixing the last yardarm,” he said. “After this, the rest of the repairs will be primarily cosmetic.”

  “What about the sails?” There was one crumpled at my feet that had a long tear in it. Aria had stitched it up with black thread, and while it had gotten us here, I worried it wouldn’t hold to get us anywhere else we decided to go.

  “Like I said—cosmetic.”

  I grimaced.

  “You shouldn’t worry so much,” he said with a laugh. “Maybe you should let me teach you about her, so you’ll have a better understanding of how she flies.”

  “That … sounds incredibly boring,” I admitted. “Unless your lesson involves letting me take the wheel.”

  He laughed, a full-hearted sound that brought another grin to my face. “That sounds … incredibly dangerous.”

  “So, no?”

  “Will you let me wield your ax?”

  My hand automatically went to the ax-head at my waist. “Not on your life.” It had nearly driven me mad when Luthair had confiscated it. I wasn’t planning on parting with it ever again. At least not voluntarily.

  He laughed again. “What brings you to the Duchess?” He asked, wiping his hands on a scrap of white cloth he then swiped across his forehead. “If you’re not here to learn all you can about her, that is.”

  “Dinner. The cook sent me to fetch you for dinner.”

  He turned back to the ship and tilted his head back to look up at the mast. “I could use a break,” he admitted. “But I’m not terribly hungry.”

  “Then you can keep me company. Have you been in the maze yet?” I was almost certain he hadn’t. He’d hardly stepped off the ship since we’d arrived. It was as if he were afraid to leave her again, considering what happened last time.

  “No,” he confirmed.

  “Come with me to find Xalph and Grissall. Maybe the walk will work up your appetite, and if I get lost, I can blame you.” I grinned at him again, but when I realized I was doing it, forced myself to stop.

  He lowered the gangplank to let us off the ship instead of making me climb back down. As we clambered down the wooden walkway, he stayed close to me. Close enough I could feel the whisper of his hand on the small of my back. I led him around the temple and through the garden walls in the back until finally we stood at the entrance to the hedge maze. We paused, listening. There was a small giggle and a shout from somewhere deep inside the maze.

  “After you,” Arun urged.

  “What a gentleman.” I stepped forward and followed the green walls until we came to the first fork.

  “Which way?” he asked.

  I shrugged. Even though I’d seen the general shape of the maze from above in the airship, I couldn’t recall any specifics about the paths. “Right,” I said finally. “It has to lead to the center eventually, right?”

  Arun laughed. “Sure.”

  We walked in silence for a time, trying and failing to follow the sounds of Grissall’s giggles and Xalph’s shouts. They seemed to come from all around us, but never grew any closer.

  “So,” Arun said eventually, “are you the Suun heir?”

  I tilted my head from side to side considering. “It’s still up for debate.”

  “You mean the priest wasn’t clear? Shocking.”

  We reached another division, this one with three paths.

  I turned to him. “Your turn.”

  He studied the three paths. They all looked the same. Finally, he motioned to the one on the right.

  As we walked, I told him about what Lunla had said and how confused I was by the whole situation. “I know I’m not a descendant of Onen Suun. I just don’t know why the priest would lead me on like this.”

  “Words can be powerful,” Arun said. “Imagine if a single yes or no from you could change the course of someone’s life. And how that change might impact the fate of the world.”

  He was in the lead now, and I studied his back. The way his muscles shifted beneath his light shirt. The way his hand kept coming up to rub the back of his neck. A nervous habit, maybe? When he looked back at me, I offered him a small, grim smile.

  “I guess I would just like that confirmation that I am who I’ve always tried to be.” I had never fit in and finding out I had this whole other destiny, something my brother and sister would never have to face. Something that would set me even further apart from them. What would that do to us? Where would that leave me?

  Ahead of us, the maze divided again. I stood on my tiptoes to try to see over the top of the hedge, but all I could see were rows and rows of green with no distinguishable paths. The temple was to our right, so unless we had passed the center…

  “This way,” I said, motioning to
the left.

  “I thought we were going to the right.”

  “Yeah, well, plans change.”

  We took another left, a right, another right, ran into a dead end and backtracked. I lost track eventually but kept the temple always at our backs, if possible, until we finally emerged into what had to be the center of the maze. There was a huge stone fountain surrounded by bright red rose bushes. Eight paths led into the center, and eight grey stone benches sat between the maze exits. There was evidence Grissall and Xalph had been here—a discarded leather shoe, a blue hair ribbon hanging from a branch, but otherwise, we were alone.

  “They’re not here.” I sat on one of the benches.

  “They probably already found their way to dinner,” Arun said, taking a seat beside me on the same bench.

  I groaned, but secretly, I didn’t mind the time with Arun. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who wouldn’t brush off my concerns or tell me I was silly for feeling a certain way.

  “You know, I never felt like a Phina.” Arun spoke casually, as if the words meant nothing to him, but when he glanced over at me, his smile was tight, his eyes wary and guarded.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You remember how I told you we’re cast out at thirteen? Meant to find our way back home on our own with a bow constructed by our own hand?”

  I nodded. When I’d turned thirteen, my father had given me my ax and sent me off to train with Erik and Estrid. It had been one of the best days of my life. I wondered if Arun felt the same, if he’d been just as excited. Or if striking out on his own had been too frightening to really enjoy.