Harbinger: Fate's Forsaken: Book One

by Shae Ford

  When he was finished, Morris nodded, as if he’d been expecting to hear it all. “Yeah, that’s how Setheran used to talk to her, too. But he was an accomplished Wright. Mind-walking is dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  Kael was just glad to have an excuse to turn the conversation away from Setheran. “Mind-walking?”

  “It’s a branch of healing,” Morris explained. “You can enter a person’s mind through touch, and share things like memories or even imaginings. It’s quite useful for dealing with mental plagues and the like. You can go through the eyes, too — but you shouldn’t. It’s real dangerous.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, I’ve obviously never done it myself, but I’ve heard it explained before … and I’ve seen what happens when it goes wrong. The mind is a house with many rooms.” He set his arms out, like he was explaining how to build it. “Someone powerful in healing — a Wright, for example — is actually able to enter the mind, to walk around in it like you would a house.”

  “Hold on,” Kael interrupted. “So if I were to enter someone’s mind —”

  “But you won’t, because it’s too dangerous.”

  “I know,” he said, slightly annoyed. “But say I did — would my whole body get sucked up inside their head, or what?”

  Morris chuckled. “No, but that’d be a sight. It’s just your soul that goes — your body stays behind, completely vulnerable. If it’s not left in the proper care, you may not have a body to come back to.”

  Kael thought for a moment. “But it seems like mind-walking could be useful, particularly if you needed to find something out.”

  Morris narrowed his eyes. “Sure, it can be useful. It can also be abused, too. If you know what you’re doing, you could easily turn someone into a mindless slave. Now what you did with Kyleigh was more like looking through a window: you saw only what she allowed you to.” He screwed up his eyes and poked an arm in the middle of Kael’s chest. “And that’s just as far as I want you to go, all right? You can talk to Kyleigh because she knows what she’s doing, but I don’t want to hear about you tampering with anyone else.”

  “Fine, I won’t.”

  But it was more to appease Morris than anything. He wondered what it looked like inside Aerilyn or Lysander’s mind, even Jake’s … though he was afraid to think about what he might find in Jonathan’s. The whole idea of mind-walking fascinated him. And promise or no, he decided that if he ever found anyone to teach him, he would learn.

  *******

  The sun was a hand’s breadth from noon on the following day when Anchorgloam erupted in cheers. Kael had been so lost in thought that the sudden burst of noise made him jump.

  “All hands to the rails,” Lysander said as he jogged towards the bow. “Just think, dogs — today we’ll lunch with the ones we love!”

  More deafening cheers followed his cry as the pirates crowded around on deck. They had their belongings hoisted over their shoulders, every one talking as loudly as he could.

  “After five long years, I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight,” Morris said, turning the ship. When they got close to Gravy Bay he’d insisted on taking the wheel. Apparently, the entrance required a fair bit of skill to get through. But so far, Kael hadn’t seen anything that looked remotely like a village.

  On one side was the open ocean, and on the other they passed a huge island of rock. It was remarkable: like a mountain rising up out of the sea. The rock was bleached white from the sun and if he tilted his head back, he could see trees perched on top of it.

  “Are you ready, lad?” Morris said. “We’re about to make a sharp turn.”

  Kael glanced around. “Into where?” Then Morris nodded in the direction of the island and he blanched. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Of course I’m serious! There’s a crack in the wall. You’ll be able to see it when we turn. Granted, it ain’t a big crack, but I wouldn’t hold your breath — I’ve only ever wrecked one ship trying to get through.”

  Kael didn’t know if he was joking or not. But he grabbed onto the nearest rail, just in case.

  “Here we go!” Morris spun the wheel hard and the ship groaned under his command. She moved quickly, turning until they faced the rocks head-on.

  A slight shadow cut down the middle of the high cliffs, hardly wider than a crack. And Kael realized, as they barreled down upon it, that Morris meant to squeeze them through it. He gripped the rails and bit his lip as the current swept them up, sucking them helplessly towards the crack. As the bow slid into the gap, he waited breathlessly for the noise of splintering wood … but it never came.

  The current pushed them through, and before Aerilyn had a chance to scream, they popped out on the other side and floated into Gravy Bay.

  It was a large plot of land, a little world of its own, hemmed in on all sides by cliffs. There was a lake-sized pool of ocean between the entrance and the first sliver of beach. A mound of houses squatted behind that, and then a forest, acres of it, stretched back against the gray opposite mountain in the distance.

  Kael felt emptiness when he saw the trees. He tried not to dwell on the fact that his bow had been destroyed, but seeing the woods made it hard to forget. Perhaps he would try his hand at the longbow. There was bound to be game lurking among the trees — and no doubt it’d been left at peace far too long.

  The rounded front lip of the Bay was covered in rock, upon which numerous houses sat. Some were short and fat, others were tall and thin. They were built strangely — as if the pirates made their homes with whatever materials they happened to pillage. He counted at least four different types of stone, none the shade of the cliffs around them, and a dozen different lumbers. One house had a garden wall that was made entirely from slabs of purple, glittering rock.

  Trinkets of all sorts littered the stone yards around the village. There were statues perched in odd places, some arranged in hilarious scenes. In one yard, a gargoyle that looked as if it had been pilfered off the side of a castle crouched in the garden. Lodged between its open jaws was the golden head of King Crevan that, judging by the ragged edges of his neck, had been hewed from the larger statue that stood next door.

  His Highness was not without a crown, however, as someone had the good sense to weld the brazen, laughing head of a donkey upon his shoulders.

  “You think that’s something?” Morris said when he pointed it out. “Take a glance up the hill, lad, and you’ll see the mansion of Gravy himself!”

  The mansion was most enormous house he’d ever seen. It perched high on a cliff above the village, and more wings grew from it than from an army of butterflies — each with its own particular character. There was one section out to the side that he immediately liked the look of: its walls were made of dark red brick and the arches of its windows were shuttered in steel.

  He imagined it would be a good place to find some peace and quiet.

  As they sailed closer to the docks, the sharp clang of a bell rang out, drawing the villagers from their houses with its song. They stood along the beach, shielded their eyes from the sun and strained to see which ship was heading for the harbor.

  When they recognized Anchorgloam, Kael thought it was lucky he was still several yards away, or he might have gone deaf from the cries that exploded from the shore. No sooner did he think this than the pirates answered with a roar of their own. They jumped up and down like children and pounded their fists onto the rails. Even Jonathan hollered along, so contagious was the excitement.

  They barely had a chance to get the ramp lowered before the pirates flooded off the boat. They ran down the docks as the crowd ran down the sand — and the two groups collided somewhere in the middle.

  Wives cried and didn’t seem to be able to stop kissing their pirates. Children leapt off the dunes and unabashedly into their fathers’ arms. Sons shook hands and tried to keep their faces stern while daughters held on tightly and cried.

  There was one little girl who
seemed more unsure than excited. She was young, so young that Kael doubted if she’d ever met her father. She watched with big blue eyes from safely behind her mother’s skirts, staring bashfully at the pirate who knelt and tried to coax her out. At her mother’s urging, she took a hesitant step forward, then raised her little arms to the man whose eyes matched hers.

  She screamed in delight as her father hoisted her off the ground and held her high in the air. He spun once, tightly, just before he brought her back to his chest for an embrace.

  “C’mon, Kael! I’m famished,” Jonathan shouted.

  He tore his eyes away from the crowd and saw all of his companions lined up on the dock, watching him curiously. “Coming,” he said, then he turned to Morris. “Well, I suppose you’re going home?”

  “Aye. But I’ll be right down the path, should you need anything,” he said with a smack on the arm. “Mine’s the one with the bronze octopus out front.”

  He bid Morris farewell and then hurried down the ramp. As he followed his companions down the road, he took one last glance at the happy scene behind him. He could only imagine how the pirates felt, to have lost the ones they loved only to find them once again. But he hoped that he would know the feeling for himself, one day.

  *******

  It was no surprise that the great house on the cliff belonged to Lysander, and yet when they stopped at the huge front door, it still shocked him.

  A horde of servants must have been waiting eagerly behind it, because no sooner did they stop than the door swung open and the whole mob came rushing out. They swooped in, distracted them with curtsies and bows, then made off with their luggage.

  “Where are they? Are they here?” An old man’s voice bounced out of the front door, followed closely by the old man himself. He was dressed very smartly in pressed trousers and a pressed shirt. A carefully-groomed mustache topped his wide swindler’s grin. “Well, well, you’ve finally come back, have you?” he said as he hobbled towards them, leaning heavily on a polished oak cane. “And what have you done with my favorite ship?”

  “She’s tucked safely in the harbor, Uncle Martin,” Lysander said.

  “Good … because now I’m going to give you a piece of my mind!” His face went dangerously stern. “Do you see what comes from stealing off in the dead of night? From chasing after wild tales and fancies?”

  “It wasn’t a fancy, Uncle. The Witch was —”

  “I know she’s real, that isn’t the point.” And Uncle Martin reiterated this with a none-too-gentle tap of his cane. “The point is that you absconded with my ship, threw caution to the wind and convinced a good number of impressionable pirates to sail straight into the heart of folly — and for what? A few sparkly trinkets?”

  “The Lass isn’t a trink — ow!” Lysander took another furious tap to the chest. He massaged his bruise while Uncle Martin ranted on.

  “You’ve got charisma, boy, and you always have. Your father had it too: he charmed his way out of more executions than any man in history. But,” he raised his cane, and Lysander crossed his arms defensively over his chest, “charm is something you use on your enemies, not your brothers. And certainly not on my favorite son!”

  “I’m your only son,” Thelred reminded him.

  Uncle Martin inclined his head. “True, but my favorite nonetheless.” Then he turned back to Lysander. “I have a mind to brand your arse with something ridiculous for every year you wasted, but I won’t — provided you swear to never chase folly again.”

  “Fine, I swear,” Lysander said. He stood straight when they shook hands on it, obviously trying to regain some shred of his dignity. But all he did was give Uncle Martin the opening he needed for one final cane-thrust to the gut.

  While Lysander was doubled over, groaning in pain, he leaned down and whispered: “By the way, did you find it?”

  He nodded stiffly, and Uncle Martin ruffled his hair.

  “Good lad,” he said, his wide grin returning immediately. He straightened up and took a quick glance at the rest of them. “My, my, picked up some interesting cargo on your journey, eh? Well I — Gravy save me, it’s the Dragongirl!”

  He squeezed between Jonathan and Jake and snatched both of Kyleigh’s hands. “How very lovely to see you again, my dear,” he said, planting a lingering kiss on the backs of them. “Though I’m a bit peeved that you didn’t return sooner. Seventeen years ago, I was a younger man … and my eyes were a bit sharper.”

  Kael thought Uncle Martin must have gotten his fair share of charisma. There weren’t many men in the Kingdom who could wink at Kyleigh and live — much less make her laugh. But that’s precisely what he did.

  “I had work to do, Martin,” she said when he released her. “Not all of us can spend our days smoking pipes and harassing the cook.”

  “Don’t even get me started on the cook. That woman will be the death of me, I guarantee it. But,” he wagged his eyebrows at her, “with all that’s wrong in the Kingdom, I don’t mind saying that the sight of you certainly puts the wind back in my sails.”

  Jonathan hastily turned his laugh into a cough when Thelred glared at him. Kael even pounded him on the back to make it look more convincing.

  “Shall I introduce you to the rest of the crew?” Lysander said, tactfully interrupting whatever string of nonsense Uncle Martin had been whispering in Kyleigh’s ear.

  It turned out that Uncle Martin had an entertaining opinion of every one of them, and he didn’t mind sharing. He said all sorts of things to Aerilyn that would have earned anyone else a slap in the face. But coming from Uncle Martin, it was just hard not to laugh. “My late wife kept a whole wardrobe of dresses upstairs, and I’ll bet we can find one that fits,” he said, after he’d ranted about how her garb was an obstruction of a perfectly good view.

  Aerilyn’s face lit up immediately. “Oh thank you, Uncle Martin! I can’t tell you how exhausting it is to wear men’s clothes day in and day out. In fact, it’s nothing short of torture,” she added, with a glare at Lysander.

  “No problem, no problem at all. My wife always used to say that there was absolutely no point in being a woman if she couldn’t show off her figure. Of course, I didn’t argue with that. And I always say that Lysander’s no-dress-on-deck rule is the seventh worse thing to ever happen to this Kingdom!” he declared, shooting a glare at his nephew — who rolled his eyes in retort.

  When Uncle Martin shook Kael’s hand, his glance went immediately to his hair. “Poor boy, we’ll have to find you a sharper razor.”

  Kael tried to flatten his curls, but felt them spring stubbornly back into place. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “You could try essence of sea urchin. I hear that’s what a certain fussy captain uses to get his characteristic wave,” Uncle Martin said loudly.

  “That’s not true,” Lysander cut in. “I don’t fuss over my hair — it simply falls this way.”

  “Sure it does,” Uncle Martin teased. “And when I wake up, my mustache looks exactly like this.” He twirled one end into a perfect loop.

  When it was Jake’s turn, Uncle Martin had to fish him out from the back of the group — where he’d been hiding. “A mage, eh?” he said with an inscrutable look. “You know, we’ve got a whole room in the house that’s completely spell proof. You could summon a rainstorm in there and it wouldn’t wet the curtains.”

  Jake’s glasses slid down his nose as his eyebrows shot up. “Really? Where is it?”

  “Ha!” Uncle Martin barked. “Not so fast. I know your lot — you’ll disappear into your studies and we won’t hear another peep until you venture out for food. I’m not going to miss your story. Sit through one meal, and then I’ll tell you where it is. Fair?”

  Jake nodded, though a bit reluctantly.

  Finally, it was Jonathan’s turn. As they shook hands, Kael could feel the rest of the party hold its breath. No doubt they were all thinking the same thing: if anyone could offend their host, it would be Jonathan.

 
“And what do you do?” Uncle Martin asked, crossing his arms.

  Jonathan mirrored him. “I’m a rogue, by trade. Though occasionally I like to do a little string-twiddling. Here lately I’ve done naught but follow orders. Putting a cramp in my fingers, it is.”

  “I see. And what music do you play when the old Captain isn’t cracking a whip?”

  Jonathan leaned in, like it was a very great secret. “The sort that makes you want to call up a chord and kick it in the shin!”

  Uncle Martin laughed. “Strictly indecent, eh? I knew I liked you! You’ll have to fiddle for us after dinner — I enjoy having a bit of rude music when I take my pipe.”

  Jonathan looked absolutely delighted, but everyone else groaned aloud. Kael was just shocked that all of his strange ramblings actually meant something to someone.

  When the introductions had been made, Uncle Martin stepped back and waved his cane at them. “Enough chatter, let’s go get our bellies full!”

  And they followed him eagerly through the door.

  Chapter 31

  Dark Things

  The inside of the mansion was even more spectacular than the outside. Uncle Martin chattered excitedly as he led them through the main hall: a room shaped in a perfect circle. It was so large that Kael thought the whole of Tinnark could have lived in it quite comfortably.

  “These are all the pirate captains who’ve made Gravy’s mansion their home,” Uncle Martin said, gesturing at the white statues that stood guard around the room. “They’re all here — from Gravy to Matteo.”

  “What about Lysander?” Jake asked.

  “Ah, I shouldn’t hope to join them for quite some time. You see, it’s only after a captain’s died that his likeness is made into a statue. Did you notice the objects they have with them? Every one is either wearing or wielding the cause of his death.”