Grave Ghost

by Tia Reed

  “Get yer back, the pair of yer,” a wiry sailor said, striding their way. A soldier intercepted him, and gestured him on his way. “Ye’ll get yerselves killed, ye fools,” he said. The soldier motioned to his comrade. Between them, they seized the sailor. “It’s the capt’n you need speak ter, afore they’re meat.”

  Ahkdul appeared from the foredeck, Brailen tagging after him.

  “They’z ignorant, me lord, and I’ll thank ye to thank me fer looking out fer ‘em,” the sailor called over his shoulder as the soldiers dragged him away.

  Kahlmed flicked his head towards her. As far as she was concerned, his company was but one more unpleasantness she must endure. She drifted towards the suffocating solitude of her cabin. Better that than bear silent disapproval as scarred as his face. It was just like Ahkdul to cut her off. She stood before him in the rough garb he had demanded she don at the way station, baggy grey shalvar and baggier, calf-length kameez to hide the sins of her body. He took her veil, a plain one for she would not sully her mother’s with her vomit, and pulled it up over her mouth and nose, a liberty even if he was her betrothed.

  “I regret you are unwell.” The sincerity in his voice pulled her eyes up to his. There was an unexpected kindness there. “You will become accustomed to the smell in time. Pengari does not wilt beneath this mantle save during the dry spells.”

  “Master, I might cure her,” Brailen said, his eager hands reaching to touch her, the madness of craving in his eye.

  With a shudder, she took a step away. Ahkdul caught the lad and shoved him down even as Mariano barked for him to keep away. He did not so much as blink when Brailen cracked his head on the bulwark. Yet how predictable for him to turn when hooded Arun appeared and, with low words rumbling of a warning, offer the lad a hand up.

  “You, mahktashaan, might ease her discomfort,” Ahkdul said, with a crinkling of his grey eyes that betrayed his calculated attempt to ingratiate himself.

  “Your Highness?” Arun enquired. Mariano nodded his permission. Yet Arun also asked it of her. “Princess?”

  How could she refuse him when it meant the chance to speak to Vinsant? It was all she could do not to betray herself by crossing the aged planks right to him. Instead, she nodded, waited for him to approach, and closed her eyes. His light touch at her temples soothed even before his magic settled on her, tingling and warm. She sensed the brightness of his crystal, felt its light within, a single star on this close, cloudy morn.

  Vinsant? she asked even before the queasiness in her stomach had settled. Her panicked break from the link two days past had roused Mariano’s suspicions. It had taken Arun’s repeated assurance her distress arose from the prince’s suggestion she would ever consider dealing to calm him. It was a lie. How many had he told to protect her? How much dishonour did he court on her behalf? Yet when, the next morning, he had reassured her Vinsant had sworn never to deal, she believed every word. Even so, his words provided no comfort. She knew better than him how cunning djinn were.

  The sharp crack of a whip startled her, once, twice, three times. Her silent whimper was not lost on Arun.

  Hush. A man who shows disrespect requires discipline, be he soldier, sailor, servant or mahktashaan.

  Vinsant, she said, because she was otherwise too raw and he was still a mahktashaan, sent to ensure she remained a slave to her father’s will. She could not lay bare her feelings to one such as him.

  A moment, Princess. Her mind went quiet.

  Vinsant’s presence nudged in. Hello. Are you okay?

  Tell me you didn’t deal.

  I didn’t deal. She could imagine the roll of his eyes followed by his cheeky grin. I didn’t need to. I’m getting so good at this magic stuff, I got what Rosie was offering all by myself.

  He was subdued, and the link felt taut, as though Arun was tense. She caught an image of a parchment, but nothing else.

  You’ve avoided my attempts at contact, the minoria said.

  Yes, well, I’ve kind of been busy. You know why.

  We’ll talk about that later, apprentice.

  She sensed Vinsant huddle into himself, and shivered. You’re cold, she said. This link was a strange magic indeed; his emotions were as vivid as if he were standing beside her. You’re feeling guilty about something. Surely he would not lie to her. You dealt!

  I didn’t. His confusion did not upset her as much as Arun’s worry. Something was wrong. He couldn’t hide the sense of space, of fresh, frigid air stretching further than the eye could see.

  Where are you? You’re not in the mines.

  She caught him by surprise. Um. I’m going back to Tarana.

  They saw it: the mountains towering around him, buried under gleaming snow and a frosty-blue sky.

  What happened? Arun beat her to the question, quiet concern in his voice.

  Suddenly, Vinsant was crying. She tried to send comfort, the sense of a hug.

  Vinsant, Arun said. We don’t have much time.

  Vinsant sniffed. Tokver’s dead. It’s my fault. The tears kept coming.

  Show me, Arun said. She felt something akin to a worried look settle on her. One moment. Kordahla, perhaps it is best we break for a time. There is mahktashaan business to attend.

  No! Her mind clung to his, to Vinsant.

  Arun braced her as a stream of images hurled through her mind, of an arrogant mahktashaan Vinsant had discovered was bound to help him, of that mahktashaan taking revenge by beating him up during swordplay, of Fenz ordering them to the temple, of Mahktos striking Tokver down.

  Arun’s heart turned grim. A mahktashaan’s first duty is to Mahktos, apprentice. Tokver forfeited his life when he chose to ignore our god’s wish. You of all people should be aware of that.

  Fenz threw me out of the mines.

  With good reason, Arun said, the serious tutor. Vinsant, – she wanted to thank him for assuming the tone of a friend – You hold the key to finding the Eye. Did you ever consider that now you are free to do just that?

  He sniffed, consoled by the promise of adventure, and perhaps by the hug she kept thinking at him. I suppose.

  Vinsant, the Eye is a powerful relic. Levi sought it out for a dire reason but in the wrong hands it will be devastating. Promise Kordahla you will ask the majoria to assist you.

  Kordahla? You want me to promise my sister? About mahktashaan lore? He pulled a face, comical enough she gave a silent laugh.

  I want you to promise us both.

  I promise to get all the help I need.

  I suppose that will have to do, Arun said with something akin to a sigh.

  I miss you. She sent a wave of affection his way.

  Don’t act like a girl. But I miss you too. Vinsant cut the link.

  She caught Arun as he tried to disengage. Will he be all right?

  He was not to blame, though he was immature and insensitive in his handling of the matter. Mahktashaan Padesh will see him safely out of the mountains. The mystery of the Eye should help take his mind off all that’s happened after that.

  But – It could be dangerous.

  After a thousand years, I doubt it will reveal itself to an apprentice anytime soon.

  She opened her eyes to find Arun’s bright blue ones gazing into hers. They held their secret between them. She hoped he sensed how grateful she was. She had no time to whisper her thanks before the hull ground into shallows. The boat rocked, separating them as they adjusted their balance. The captain called his orders. Sailors ran to port. Poles lowered on the starboard side and pushed against the riverbed.

  “Allow me.” Arun held out his hand. She placed her fingers on his palm, and he guided her to a stool set upon the deck. For once she wished Mariano had not come to stand at her shoulder.

  “Your Highness?” Arun asked.

  Mariano squinted at a falcon, hovering on a thermal. “It is not necessary,” he replied, white-faced but determined to show no weakness. “But see to the men.”

  For all the creaking of wood as the gal
ley eased into deeper water, the soft scuff of shoe on the rigging, the flap of the unfurling sail, it was Arun she watched, performing his magic on two of the most nauseous soldiers, returning to her once he had offered ease.

  “May I summon such items as will bring the princess relief?” he asked Mariano. Her brother was gripping the gunwale, arms and shoulders tense as he scanned the murky water.

  Ahkdul came to stand over her, his prominent brow dark with suspicion. “Do you question Verdaan’s hospitality?”

  Arun bowed his head. “Never would I dream of doing so, but Verdaan was not prepared to receive royalty, and Princess Kordahla does not have her handmaidens to tend her.”

  The water broke with a sudden whoosh. “Jabberwei!” the cry went up as a giant spiked reptile launched itself out of the water. It snapped its jaws in front of Mariano’s face. Her brother sprang back and she threw herself behind him. The falcon screeched warning. Tentative soldiers drew their swords, and jaded sailors pounced at the gunwale to launch barbed harpoons. Two weapons flew but the beast crashed down on its side and twisted into the murk. Their ropes soon slackened.

  “Are you alright?” Mariano asked, turning to her, holding her.

  She nodded and, when he released her to watch the sailors, retreated to the wall of the cabin.

  Ahkdul dogged her. “The beasts cannot land atop the deck.”

  “Cursed landlubbers,” a crusty sailor said, yanking a soldier who leaned over the gunwale full onto deck before roping up the harpoon. “Will be meat afore they know it. I’z heard Rocs warning ye, and he’z suffering the cat for the trouble of it.”

  “Enough,” Ahkdul said. “Any who do not accord the princess respect, any who even dare to address her without permission, I will throw to the jabberweis.”

  She tilted her chin. Muddy water sloshed against the ship. And you? she wanted to ask. Will you throw yourself to those man-eaters? But he was watching the grumbling men return to their chores, and did not see how strong the sentiment burned in her eyes. He ignored the pointed look Mariano directed him. The Verdaani lord was master in this realm. Without asking, he took her arm, brought her to the stool.

  “Verdaan is an unforgiving land, but you are destined to be its shahbanu. You must learn to act like one.”

  She lowered her head, willing her racing heart to slow.

  “I made your father a promise. If you give me no cause, you will not suffer at my hand. We are but days from Pengari and I would rather our marriage be a joyous occasion. It will demean us both if I must drag you to the altar.”

  “She will comply,” Mariano said, with a hard look. “But what of these jabberweis? Did you not tell us watching them was an entertainment? What other dangers lurk along the way that you have neglected to mention?”

  The falcon dived, a perfect missile.

  “You are safe, if you are not foolhardy enough to lean over the side. It is the lakes you must beware. The jabberweis there grow to twice the length of a man, and are four times as fierce as these. They resent any incursion into their territory.”

  “Tell us about these beasts.”

  “Would you frighten your sister with such tales?”

  “Would you have her ignorant of her new Realm?”

  A wind stirred, blowing the rotten stench across the deck. Heaving, Mariano bent over the side. Water swished. He took a smart step back, cupping a hand over his mouth. Kordahla gripped her hands in her lap and waited for the fearful leap of the jabberwei. There came but a timber-jarring thud. Further out, the falcon burst from the river, a silvery fish in its talons.

  “Allow me the honour of tending to you, Highness,” Arun said.

  Mariano nodded. Arun’s touch lasted but seconds and brought a healthy pink to his cheeks.

  “Remove your hood, Minoria,” he said, eyes narrowed.

  Arun made the smallest movement of his head, his indication of his reluctance in the presence of so many.

  “You will comply.”

  Two soldiers flanked Arun. Kordahla’s heart quickened as he revealed his face, and those striking blue eyes, a perfect match for his crystal. Far from the fear they had struck into her as a child, they kindled an unexpected hope.

  “Tell me, mahktashaan,” Mariano said, “How is it you can settle my stomach in space of seconds, but my sister requires minutes of your time?”

  Arun flipped his hood on. Without realising it, she was standing, staring at him, willing him to guard their secret. Her alarm had to be conspicuous on her face. Her veil concealed the worst of it, but Mariano would see if he looked in her eyes.

  “Your Highness, the princess ails in her soul. Her body resists my touch.”

  Mariano caught the way she stared at Arun before she dropped her eyes. In that, it was her fault his sour expression alerted Ahkdul. The Verdaani lord’s eyes narrowed as he appraised her.

  “This man must pay for his touch.” Ahkdul signalled to a sailor, who approached with a leer and a whip.

  “This man is mine, as is the blood honour for my sister. What he has said makes sense.”

  Mariano and Ahkdul stared a challenge. The Vae were kind to see that Ahkdul was first to avert his eyes.

  “Boy!” The swine retrieved a packet of porrin from a pocket in his shalvar, and waved it at the lad. Brailen scampered over and fell to his knees.

  “Your mahktashaan will continue training my mage.” Ahkdul slapped the packet against Brailen’s chest.

  Brailen tore it open and tipped the porrin into his mouth. Ripping the packet apart, he licked the flecks of powder stuck inside. An idiotic grin on his face, he stood, wobbled across the deck, and hung over the gunwale. “Teach me to smite those jabberweis to smithereens.”

  “I will not. Nor will I rescue an addict from the jaws of one.”

  On the muddy shore, a float of jabberweis sunned itself. Eyes cracked open and a few slid into the water. The largest of the reptiles breached the surface. Brailen flailed. Stool, whip and rope went flying around the ship as the boy landed on his backside. Giggling, he waved his hands towards the river.

  “I summon thee. I summon thee, o creature of the depths.”

  The rope twined around Brailen. Mariano looked on with unamused condescension while Ahkdul frowned. She alone caught the faint glow of Arun’s crystal as the rope secured the boy. Tilting his head to the clouded sky, Brailen howled like a wolf.

  “I shall expect a competent display this afternoon, or I’ll have you thrown to the jabberweis,” Ahkdul threatened as he sat upon a capstan.

  The minoria checked his own disapproval by directing his attention to shore. They were sailing past scenery unchanging. Clumps of reeds hid croaking frogs and sheltered paddling ducks from the cumbersome jabberweis. Beyond them, a herd of bison thundered across the lush grassland. Here and there mud huts perched above the ground. The inhabitants took their chances with the jabberweis and crocs as they dangled lines for putrid fish from rowboats patched together with driftwood. Before the ship, a large lake loomed, the first of four the river formed on its journey to the Mowan Ocean, if Terlaani maps were to be believed. Were it not for the stench that pervaded the vegetation, the water, the fish, she might have enjoyed the thrill.

  “Will you continue to waste my time and your lord’s resources?” Arun asked.

  Brailen giggled. Arun slapped him. His eyes darted to her, his hood low enough to reveal the apology in his expression. This forced training of the addict weighed on him. Under his tutelage, the boy had learned to control the flight of objects, summon small items and spell warmth into muscles aching from long rides, but Arun’s terse instructions made plain Brailen’s progress was unimpressive.

  “Kneel.”

  “You are not his lord to demand such obeisance,” Ahkdul said.

  “Come and stand before him for I would have him kneel.”

  Kahlmed, lounging against the rigging in anticipation of the entertaining chaos, sauntered over and hauled Brailen onto his knees.

  “Let’s
see how much finesse you can display. Release yourself from that rope without destroying it,” Arun said.

  Brailen squeezed his eyes so tight a casual observer might have thought him in need of physic Nocrates’s laxative. The lower end of the rope uncoiled, only to loop around his legs as the rest of it unfurled.

  “You’ve magicked the rope, evil mage. Set me free or I’ll banish you to the deepest pits.”

  “You will free yourself. Concentrate on straightening the end before you try to uncoil it.”

  Thus they passed the afternoon as the boat rippled across the lake, demented Brailen failing, Arun instructing, his curt words betraying how thin his patience had worn. By late afternoon, Brailen had untied himself and coiled the rope into a neat pile. He jumped up and flung his hands wide.

  “I’m a mage and no mortal will challenge the likes of me.”

  She expected the answering flash of blue, expected the rope to spring up and wind around the tiresome boy.

  “You will repeat the lesson.”

  Wearying of company, Kordahla rose. Her cabin held no appeal but she must walk past Arun to reach the fore deck. It was certain Ahkdul would misconstrue their proximity, and so she stood there, unable to decide what to do. Arun decided for her.

  “I trust the stench does not ail you?” His words were always so kind.

  She managed the smallest shake of her head. Then, because she desired to linger in his company, she found her voice. “I hope Vinsant was never so troublesome.”