Mo’s laughter nearly drowned out the celebrations behind them, and he leaned so hard into Dain that they both stumbled. Lydia, on the other hand, looked unconvinced. She even made a tilted attempt at propping her fists on her hips. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow when we’re all a little less—happy.” She tugged Mo off of Dain. “But, for tonight at least, we’ll take you up on your offer of the captain’s quarters.” Lydia led her jovial husband by the rope tether as she waved to the crew. “Thank you, everyone—goodnight.”
A deafening cheer followed the newlyweds as they disappeared below.
Wine was not his friend. Oh, for some of that wooded sprig Sable had given him the last time he’d gotten tipsy.
Dain held his head in hands as he made his way down the narrow, swaying corridor. He’d left earlier than everyone else, feeling a pressing need to rest. The doorknob to his old cabin resisted, and Dain’s stomach churned as the handle came in and out of focus. It was a long, frantic moment before the door finally opened, and when it did, Dain lurched for the washbasin to empty the contents of his stomach in one fast, furious wave.
Nope. Never, ever again…
Somehow he managed to light the lantern before he propped himself against the bunk by the basin. His sweaty head flopping back onto the mattress, coaxing a faint waft of rosewater and herbs from the linens. He winced. This had been Sable’s cabin after he’d become captain, and though she’d spent most of her time in his quarters, the bedding here still held her scent. Easing away from the bunk, away from the memories, Dain lay flat on the floor. It was cooler down there anyway.
His lids had almost closed when a dusty, folded sheet of paper caught his eye just behind the bedside crate. The effort to drag himself toward it was great, but curiosity could be a mighty motivator. It wasn’t until he held the parchment between his fingers that Dain realized what it was. He dropped the paper to the floor like it burned. His name was inked across the top fold in Sable’s own hand—it was the thank you note, the one she’d written the night they’d rescued Tars from Port Tallooj. He’d never read it because she’d ended up thanking him in person instead. Obviously it’d dropped behind the crate months ago—long forgotten.
Dain’s hands shook when he finally picked up the note again.
Dain,
I’ve never been eloquent with words. I leave them to my poetic, song-writing brother. And I really wish I had a better way of thanking you for your kindness. You risked your life for a stranger today, and while I know there is a greater underlying purpose for everything you do now, you are still aware of those right beside you. You could’ve run away when your father died, but you didn’t, you stayed. And you continue to stay. That makes you a real hero.
My hero.
Thank you for helping me save Tars.
Maybe it’s true, maybe we can end this. Maybe one day, we can all be free…
With great gratitude,
Sable
Dain lurched, eyes blurry with tears, for the basin again. Whatever had been left in his stomach was definitely gone now. Clutching the note in his fist, he crawled onto the sweet-smelling bunk and buried his wet face in the pillow.
24
Sable shivered violently as she ran, feet throbbing as they pounded over the crystalline floors after her companions. The depth of the cold penetrating her bones meant that the stalkers were not far behind, and despite the fact that she was ragged from running, their horror spurred her on.
Idris tripped.
Sable jumped sideways to miss him. Stooping fast, she pulled him up by his wrist and shoved him after Elden. The huntsman had already turned a corner up ahead, the new passage barely lit by worm domes. Hopefully, their guide had found them a safe place to hide. When Sable and Idris rounded the dim entrance, they found themselves inside a small alcove.
A low whistle sounded above their heads.
Sable looked up to see an opening large enough for one man to squeeze through, Elden’s hands protruded from it. She dropped the pack to the ground, dove onto all fours, and silently waved Idris onto her back as an echoey screech sounded through the cavern outside. The cries spurred Idris up, his boots tearing at her skin as he bounced. When the child was safely inside, Sable jumped for the opening herself. Elden caught her outstretched hands and pulled her into a small hollow. The tunnel was similar to the one they’d traveled to get here, only this time it was dark—no worms, and from what Sable could tell, it burrowed straight upward.
Elden took the pack and started to climb, hooking his elbows, hands, and feet into the rock walls as he shimmied skyward. Idris followed close behind him, but Sable’s head spun as she watched them go. She’d always hated heights; it might even be the one thing she feared as much as stalkers. As though in response, another cold wave of terror oozed up from below. Perhaps not quite as much. Sable shoved herself up toward her companions, her palms growing slick with sweat as she tried hard not to think about what would happen if one of them slipped.
Thankfully, the more distance they put between themselves and the cavern below, the more the stalker-induced terror faded. The relief was palpable enough that Sable even managed to ignore her aversion to heights. Either that, or it was her screaming muscles that kept her mind off it. How far would they have to climb? Up, up, and up again. When a dim glow finally emerged above, she wanted to hoot in gratitude, and when fresh air channeled down the tube with caressing promise, the huntsman quickened his pace. Idris followed suit, but Sable’s muscles protested too vehemently for her to keep up, and, as a result, her companions disappeared far ahead of her. When she did reach the opening, a strong hand grasped her own, hauling her up into the light of day with one swift pull. She stumbled when her feet hit the ground, eyes struggling to adjust as she took a deep lung-full of air. The world underground had been warm and beautiful in its own right, but it hadn’t been this fresh. It felt beyond good to be outside again.
Her pupils dilated, her friends coming into focus. For all the strength Elden had shown lifting her from the opening, he now looked exhausted. Half bent, he rested his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Idris lay flat on the ground among the bracken and old winter-crushed leaves. There were bare bits of spring showing on the forest floor around him, but, for the most part, the woods were still dead and brown.
A breeze whistled through the leafless forest, carrying their scent on the wind and reminding Sable of the risk of being out in the open. She hobbled toward the pack on Elden’s shoulders, reaching for the side pocket. The small vial of Harbourage was near empty, but Sable sprinkled her hair with what was left and rubbed the foul-smelling gunk into every strand she could. Hopefully it was enough.
Elden stood, avoiding eye contact with both Sable and Idris as he said, “We should keep moving.”
Idris whimpered from the ground.
Sable held up a hand. “We need to talk.”
The huntsman still didn’t meet her gaze. “No time, we need to get going.”
Sable collapsed on the ground beside Idris, crossing her aching arms over her chest. “No, we talk first, then we move. The quicker you agree to do so, the quicker we move on.”
Elden rounded on Sable—it was the first time she’d ever seen him look angry. Or was he just afraid? His voice was low. “I made a promise to keep you two from getting captured, and if you don’t follow my lead, how can I do that?”
Sable shrugged. “By killing us, I suppose.”
The huntsman’s jaw tensed.
Idris sat up with a squeak.
“It’s what the witch told you to do, isn’t it?” Sable said as she titled her head up at him. “And now that you’ve seen what Idris and I can do, you actually understand why she made you promise it, don’t you? We’re a terrible weapon in the hands of the emperor.”
Elden’s voice cracked. “How could—”
“I overheard the witch ask you to keep a promise that first night in the cave. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but, as we traveled—
well, I got suspicious.” Sable pointed to the knives on Elden’s belt. “You sharpen those things all the time, you know.” She shrugged again. “Makes a person wonder, but it wasn’t until I saw your reaction to our talents that I actually figured it out.”
The huntsman buried his face in his hands, his voice barely audible. “I never would have done it.”
“I know,” she said as she pushed herself to her feet and limped toward her friend. “But there was a time when I would’ve asked you to.” Elden dropped his hands to stare, and Idris drew a sharp breath through his teeth. “I’ve learned from my mistakes, though. Personal sacrifice should never come at a cost to anyone besides yourself. I still don’t know what’s up with that witch, but asking someone with a heart like yours to kill another person is too high a cost.”
Elden didn’t get a chance to respond, because the minute he opened his mouth to speak, the sound of baying filled the woods around them.
Hounds.
Sable dove for Idris, grabbing his wrists and dragging him to his feet. It was the second time she’d touched him today. Apparently her fear was fading. The boy whimpered again, but Sable dragged him after Elden.
It was much harder to navigate the forest—even with the huntsman breaking trail, it was slow progress through the dense underbrush. Sable wasn’t sure how much more her limbs could endure as she jumped roots, skirted knolls, and rounded trunks. And for all their efforts, the baying didn’t fade. How would they get away? She highly doubted Elden could pull another secret tunnel out of thin air. His magic must have been used up at this point. Hopefully they’d at least make it to the sea—not that the ocean provided a whole lot of defense against dogs, but at least the water might deaden their scent.
The hound howls were joined by voices, men calling and shouting directions to one another. Sable lunged harder, fingers digging into Idris’s wrist as she pulled him along. The boy didn’t whimper this time.
Eventually, the trees began to thin, and the distant sound of waves carried toward them on the wind. The forest floor gave way to more rocky terrain, bracken was replaced by boulders, and the air turned salty. The woods had seemed bright enough, but when they burst into a clearing, Sable could see that the sky was quickly growing dark—a storm brewing.
Elden stopped, Sable skidding to her knees behind him as Idris collapsed by her side. The huntsman’s fist pumped in front of her face, and when she leaned around him, she understood why. They’d reached the coastline, but the cliff they’d discovered hung out to a point over the water and then turned sharply back into the forest on either side. Sable crawled closer to the edge, palms sweating as she peered over. It was at least a full span to the roaring ocean below, and the rocks jutting up along the shore would make for a deadly landing.
A scree of iron cries mingled with the hound howls.
Sable shivered.
The stalkers had joined the hunt.
Idris began rocking, his voice a high-pitched whisper. “What are we going to do now?”
Elden’s breath was uneven, his eyes wide. “We could go back in—try to lose them.” He didn't look convinced.
Crawling back toward Idris, Sable leaned into the rocking boy as she raised her fingers toward the huntsman. “They’re not here for you, and the rope we do have isn’t long enough.”
Elden backed away, lifting one hand. “No, don’t do it—we’ll get out of this together.”
Sable bit her lip, shaking her head. “I can’t send you far, I’ll need to save my strength for the fight, but I’ll get you to the shores below.”
Idris tore away from her, throwing himself into Elden’s arms with a sob.
The huntsman embraced the child, his tone rough. “Sable, I’ll stay and fight—I can’t leave you two alone—” His voice trailed off, eyes pleading.
“Find the hidden cove. Warn the four kingdoms—tell them what’s coming. Then try and find Ileana. You deserve that at least.” She gave him a grim smile. “We won’t be alone, I promise.” With a hard swallow past the lump in her throat, Sable wove her fingers in one swift sign and Elden disappeared from Idris’s arms.
The boy wailed.
The stalkers screamed louder.
Sable jumped to her feet, working fast to pull the rope from the pack. She tried to ignore the heights as she secured one end to a heavy root jutting under the cliff’s edge, then dragged the other end toward Idris. The boy sat sobbing on the ground where Elden had vanished. She spoke softly. “I’m going to tie this around you, and then we’re going to hang you out of sight. The stalkers won't sense you, and hopefully no one, including the hounds, will notice. No matter what you hear, stay still and silent, do you understand me?”
Idris nodded blankly as she looped the rope through his legs and around his waist. The boy’s knuckles were white on the line as she eased him over the cliff edge and whispered, “Don’t look down.” He clenched his eyes, and Sable tested the rope one more time before releasing him to dangle hidden in the open air under the lip. Idris gave one small whimper before going quiet. A cold sweat trickled down her spine as she backed away from the ledge, the chilled chorus of cries racing through the forest drawing dangerously close now. A tear escaped the corner of her eye as she tipped her chin up to the crimson storm raging toward the coastline. Then she raised her fingers to the sky.
25
Sable squeezed his hand as they walked through the sunny grounds of Alloway Manor, Dain giving a friendly wave to one of the gardeners as he led his wife toward his favorite apple tree. He’d climbed the old tree countless times as a child, the topmost branches providing a solid view of the long oaken lane leading up to the manor. He’d spent hours up there, on silent watch, usually waiting for the return of one parent or another. His children after him had done the same, but now that they were grown and gone, only he and Sable visited the tree.
A swing had been suspended from one of the thickest limbs, and Dain now lifted his wife into the seat. She laughed delightedly when he gave her a small push, legs swinging through the air as she tried to propel herself further forward.
He pushed harder.
Sable laughed louder.
Dain still loved the sound, even after decades together, but her next giggle was unexpectedly drowned in a clap of thunder. Sable still lunged her legs, kicking her feet like she was trying to touch the oncoming storm with her toes. His gaze was pulled away from her gaiety toward the elements, and he watched the branches above darken as thick, blood-red clouds swallowed the sun. For some reason the sight made his heart skip a beat, and then his hands groping frantically for the swing—he was too late.
She was gone.
A scream lodged in his throat.
Lightning flashed.
Rain soaked through his tunic as he climbed. From the topmost branches, Dain scanned the grounds around Alloway Manor, but there was no sign of Sable. There was, however, far across the length of the back pasture, a figure walking purposefully toward him. She was lithe, with sky-pink hair flying in the wind, and her skin glowed the color of ice.
The decks of The Maiden showed no signs of a party. Everything had been cleared away, and the majority of the crew on duty tackled their morning chores with impressive fortitude. Dain knew some of them had to be suffering. He himself had a squall-sized headache, and yet, despite the pain, his spirits were high. Though his dream had been decidedly disturbing, he tried to take it as a good omen. There was a chance it meant Sable was still alive. An irrepressible warmth flooded his frame at the thought, his lips twitching up in response as he jumped to avoid Casper’s blade. His teacher gave him a wicked grin. “Yer distracted, Capt—er—mate. Be careful now, or I’ll nick ye.”
Dain didn’t know why Casper had insisted on using real swords today—perhaps he thought by raising the stakes, Dain might try harder with his defense? He winked at Casper. “Not if I nick you first.” His head pounded as he lunged for his teacher's open ribcage. The sailor’s bronze eyes widened for the brief second before he
whirled in tight to block the blow. They stood nose to nose, swords butted together, both grinning ear to ear.
“Better!” Casper roared, backing up to clap Dain on the shoulder.
He gave his instructor a theatrical bow. “Thank you—I’ve had an excellent teacher.”
Before Casper could respond, a loud “achem” sounded from the bottom of the prow steps.
Dain moved to the foremast rail to see Jord taking a timid step upward. “Good morning, sir. Just wondering if you’re ready for your lessons now?”
“Yes, Jord come up, I think we’re finished for today. And please don’t call me sir—I’m not the captain anymore. My name is Dain, plain old Dain.”
“Right, yes sir.” Jord scurried up the steps.
Dain rubbed at his forehead—it was all going to take some getting used to, for everyone, but the minute he’d woken up this morning, he’d known it was the right decision to give up the captaincy. The responsibility of running a ship had been lifted from his shoulders, and it felt good to be a simple sailor again—well, sort of. He was still a Zaalish aristocrat and owner, or at least co-owner, of the Alloway Trading Company. And Mo and Lydia would do a stand-up job, probably far better than Dain ever had. Mind you, the newlyweds had yet to emerge from their quarters, so who knew when they’d get started again. He chuckled as he touched the pendant around his neck, thankful that his newfound freedom would leave more time to train for things to come.
Jord topped the steps, and Casper sauntered over to the stout sailor. “Mind if I stick around for the lesson? I’m curious about how all this magic stuff works.”
Dain gave Casper a sardonic smile. “Since when are you interested in anything besides cavorting, sailing, and swords?”
The Lion of the Sea (The Maiden Ship Book 2) Page 15