by H. L. Burke
Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised. Sarra was all about home and hearth. She'd tolerated his years scrounging through fragments of maps and dusty books, neglecting their farm in favor of research, but leaving her remaining two children and home of twenty years? No, he shouldn't have expected that. It took a visionary mind to see the value in this sacrifice.
He opened his eyes and nodded to Gabrin.
“You’re right. It’s worth the wait.” Eanan rubbed his fingers into his temples. His head hurt. After weeks at sea in the open air, the stuffy Common House with its smoke and noise made him nauseated. “I think I’ll take a walk. Tomorrow we’ll sell our extra gear for supplies … and coin. I wonder if they even use coin anymore.”
“I think I saw a man with a purse. Most likely coins inside it. I can’t see him carrying around vegetables to pay for drinks.” Gabrin chuckled.
“You never know.” Eanan swung his legs over the bench. His thighs already tingled from sitting too long, and he took a moment to pop his back before heading out the door to pace the docks. I’ve given up everything for this quest. Creator, let it be worth it.
Chapter Two
Quill snuggled into her pallet bed. Above her the firelight played with the shadows on the ceiling. Soot snored behind the curtain that blocked Brode’s section of their small cabin from the “girls section.” The old dog had been in mourning since Trea left a few days before. Normally animal emotions weren’t easily detectable for Quill, but Soot’s managed to break through, especially regarding his loyalty to her sister. She’d saved a portion of her dinner for him to make up for it.
Her limbs grew warm and heavy. Her eyes fell shut.
A gentle rushing noise swelled about her, like a boisterous stream. She sat up, half expecting water to be running over the floor. The fire crackled. Mother sat in a chair, finishing the last of the mending.
What was that noise?
The wind whistled outside, but all else was silence.
It must’ve been the wind. She shook her head. So close to falling asleep only to be awakened by silly fancies.
She forced her eyes closed. Tomorrow was her and Pet’s turn with the washing, Freda and Brode’s in the garden, and Mother's caring for the animals. The first of the spring peas were almost ready to pick. It would be nice to have fresh vegetables again, after a winter of mostly dried edibles. Providing for a family of seven in the middle of nowhere was hard. They managed to scrape by with a little to spare, but she always looked forward to the summer months when there was plenty to eat. That made the extra work of gardening and birthing goat kids worth it.
“Child … Child …” The sound of water swelled around her once more. Dappled blue light replaced the wavering orange of the firelight on her lids. It danced over her limbs. The water rose, supporting but overwhelming her, catching her up in a current that swept her far from her bed. Her long hair floated in the water like sea grass, tangling over her face. “Child … Child …”
The waters sang, their voices like bird song and bursting bubbles. “You hear, so listen. You must listen.”
Quill gasped for breath. Liquid ran down her throat, filling her. It flooded all the way to her toes, until her body felt substance-less, melding with the waves around her.
Let me go!
The connection snapped. Suddenly solid again, she fell onto her bed. Her eyes fluttered open. The fire had died down to coals, and Mother was gone. She shuddered and jerked up. Her hair clung to her forehead. She reached up to brush it aside and found it wet, as if she’d just stepped out of a rainstorm.
Sweat, just sweat. I must’ve had a fever that broke. I’ll take some marrow-weed in the morning.
Quill crawled out of bed and knelt before the fire. A little bit of poking, and it sprang back to life. She braided her hair into a tight plait, to keep it from clinging to her clammy skin, and sat, gripping the chestnut rope she'd made. Just a fever, just a dream, nothing more. In spite of these assurances, she still shivered as she crouched by the flames.
***
Karvir stood over Trea as she slept. Her short hair stuck up in tufts from the days on the trail, and a pine needle rested above her ear. Bending down, he plucked the needle out and watched it twist and blacken in his hot fingers. She always reminded him of her baby days when she lay at peace, the firelight glowing on her face.
What would I do if someone snatched her away from me? If I never got to see her again? Isn't that what I did to Eanan? … but Eanan could've stayed, just as I could've gone. We both made our choices. Neither of us were innocent in that fight.
It had been several days since he’d entered a fire, and he felt faint, cold in the extremities when in solid form and stretched out when in a fade, as if there were more air to him than smoke. Still, it had only been him and Trea on the trail. While he didn’t need to sleep, being in the fire clouded his awareness. He might miss danger that threatened her.
So in spite of his weariness, he stood watch.
Eanan … He’d never expected to hear that name again. Trea had no idea who she’d faced down today. It had been all too easy for Karvir to feign ignorance. Decades later and the confrontation with that man still irked him. To show himself to Eanan now, lacking human form, living in hiding like a criminal … He’d have to push down his pride. Willa would want him to. The girls deserved to know their grandfather.
Revin had allowed them to set out their blankets in a corner of the Common House. A few other traders slept there as well, but not Eanan and his companion. They must’ve returned to their ship. Karvir wouldn't visit a ship willingly. It wasn’t as if water could jump up and bite him, but he still disliked crossing it.
Do I really want to risk bringing that man into our lives at all? Eanan turned away from Willa, tried to use her to manipulate me. The fewer people who know of our location, the safer it is for Pet.
No, that wasn’t an option. Pet’s powers needed to remain a secret. Bringing anyone into their little circle was dangerous, let alone someone as unpredictable as Eanan.
He left her behind. I fought my way through fire and death to be with my daughters, and Eanan couldn’t even put aside his pride to part on good terms with Willa. No, he doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t deserve them.
He let his hand trail across Trea’s forehead, brushing back a stray lock of hair. A smudge of black remained where he’d touched.
Trea stirred and opened her eyes. “Dad, you should be in the fire.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “You don’t need to watch me all the time. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m fine,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. “Fine? When was the last time you renewed yourself?”
“Are you your mother now?” He laughed. “All right, but if you need me, call. I should be able to hear you.” He faded to smoke, but hesitated. “Do you remember my father at all?”
She pursed her lips then shook her head. “Quill does, a little, but I was a baby when he died.”
“You were two. I didn’t think you would, but …” He reached over and teased the fire with his fingers. It pulled at his core, making him long to meld with it as a weary man might wish to rest his head on his pillow. “My dad was a hard man, but he always let me make my own choices. You remind me of him sometimes. Not taking any nonsense from anybody, even me.”
“Those men we met today, who came from across the sea … ”
“Yes?”
“Isn’t that where Mom’s family went? She always told me they took to the ships before I was born. If people are starting to come back, maybe her family will as well.”
Karvir considered his options. He could tell her. He probably should. Not tonight, though. “Go to sleep, Trea.”
He allowed the tug of the flame to take him. The heat surged through him, restoring his energy. Tomorrow there will be plenty of time for decisions.
***
Freda shouldered her hoe and gazed out over the patch of ridiculously tiny plants. She hat
ed gardening. So much work for benefits that wouldn’t be seen for weeks, or even months in the case of some of these plants. She’d rather go hunting. At least then dinner immediately followed the effort.
Brode knelt by a row of carrots, pulling out the smallest and placing them on a square of canvas.
“I can take those to the goats for you,” she said, eager to get away.
“No, Willa asked me to save them for her. Even the young ones are edible. There will be enough weeds for the goats as it is.” Brode smiled up at her. His curly brown hair and freckles made his face look a bit dirty. Of Valley Folk stock rather than Wood Folk like Freda, he was only about as tall as she was.
Freda wasn’t related to any of the other members. She had no living family but had developed an attachment to Karvir and “his girls” during the war. After nearly two decades, they might as well be blood. Pet, Brode’s eight-year-old sister, had even started calling her “Auntie.”
She put down the hoe and grasped one of the mildthorns that had grown up among the seedlings. The bristles bit into her, so she pulled back, shaking her hand. “Burn it, that didn’t feel so mild.”
“I have some gloves in my garden pack,” he offered.
“I’m fine. I’ll just dig them out.” She sucked on her fingers, trying to remove the stinging, hair-like thorns from her skin.
Brode’s brow furrowed as she reached for her hoe again. “Don’t do that! You’ll break the roots on the plants we do want. Look, I’m fine doing all the work here. I won’t tell Willa. Go sit down.”
She grinned. Brode was like a mother grousehen with his garden. She stepped back to rest against the fence.
He kept working, moving down the line, thinning the root vegetables. “Do you think Trea and Karvir will be back today?”
“Oh, not for another two days at least. If they made the best time possible, they would have arrived yesterday, and they’ll want at least a day to trade.” She wiped the sweat from her brow and tightened the leather cord she used to tie back her long, dark hair.
“One of us should’ve gone with them. Trea’s never been on the road before, and Northport is kind of rough.” Brode paused in his work.
“She’s with Karvir,” Freda said. “She might as well have an army of Fire Elementals as her escort. There’s no way anyone will harm her with him around.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Brode replied. “She can take care of herself too, it’s just … things happen on the road, you know? Wild animals, bandits—”
“When are you going to speak for her?” Freda interrupted.
Brode’s face turned red. “Huh?”
“Oh come on, Brode. You fuss over her like she’s one of your precious plants. She can’t see it because she inherited Karvir’s emotional awareness, but the rest of us have been rolling our eyes at the pair of you for a while now.”
“I’m not ready,” he mumbled.
“Ready? For what? To say you like her? That’s not something you need a lot of preparation for.”
“It’s not that. We see each other from sunup to sundown. There’s just a curtain between us while we sleep. Right now, things are simple. We work together, we laugh together, but at the end of the day … if I tell her I like her, if she knows, I’m going to want to kiss her.”
“That usually follows after such confessions,” Freda teased.
“It’s not funny.” He stood and wiped his hands on his trouser legs. “If I kiss her and it feels good, which it will, I’m positive it will, I’m going to want to do it again and again … and lying awake at night knowing she’s just on the other side of a piece of thin cloth. Sometimes that already keeps me up for hours. Then what if something … does happen between us, and what if I get her with child? I’m not ready to be a dad yet, Freda. I wouldn’t know the first thing about taking care of a wife and a baby.” He shifted from foot to foot. “A little longer, maybe a couple of years.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you over-think things?”
“Better over than under,” he said. “I’m not ready for someone to need me yet.”
“Trea doesn’t need anyone, Brode. She’s as strong as I am, perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”
“Needing someone doesn’t have anything to do with strength, though. Look at Karvir and Willa. Karvir is the strongest man I know, and he needs Willa more than anything. I think something happens when you let someone in the way he let her in, you know? Somehow you bind together until you can no longer stand on your own but you’re stronger together. It’s something I want, eventually.”
The sun beat down on Freda’s head as she considered his words. She blinked a few times. “That’s actually … insightful. I didn’t realize you were such a deep thinker.”
“Gardening is great for thinking. It’s one reason I love it so much.”
“Well, have you thought about what might happen if you don’t tell Trea how you feel and some handsome young man in Northport does?”
Brode’s mouth dropped open.
Freda swallowed her laugh. “I’ll go get some water. The squash seedlings look almost as droopy as you do.” She picked up a wooden bucket and started towards the stream.
A little way past their house, the water bubbled out of the hillside and cascaded into a crystal pool. Quill sat on a boulder, stirring the water with her toe. Her eyes were half-closed, and she gripped her braided hair with both hands.
“Are you all right?” Freda frowned.
Quill started. “Oh, I didn’t hear you coming.” She brushed a loose hair away from her face. “I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“I think your mother took Pet out looking for herbs. If you want to slip back home and nap, it’ll be quiet there.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s just … Do you remember what Meghil said before he … died? About the strange dreams and voices? Do you think that could happen to anyone? That the Fire Elementals can get into any of our dreams?”
“They’ve never gotten into mine.”
“Do you think they got to Uncle Ketyl?” Quill whispered.
Freda swallowed. Ketyl hadn’t been in his right mind prior to his death. “Maybe. What’s going on, Quill?”
“I heard voices last night. I saw things—water welling up around me—it felt so real.”
“Well, Fire Elementals aren’t really associated with water,” Freda said.
“I suppose, they aren’t.” Quill smiled, but her eyes stayed downcast.
Freda leapt across the narrow stream and rested her hand on Quill’s shoulder. “Whenever the Elementals latched onto someone, they exploited a weakness: Meghil’s need for power, your uncle’s rage and jealousy. You’re the purest soul I know. You’ll be fine.”
Chapter Three
Trea shifted from foot to foot. Dad and Revin had been haggling for what felt like forever. She craned her neck towards the window. The fresh air called to her.
“I’m going to explore the town,” she whispered.
Father glanced at her. “Promise me you’ll be careful? And don’t stay away long?”
“I’ll come back when I get hungry.” She grinned.
He laughed. “Knowing you that won’t be long. All right.”
She threw on her cloak, fetched her bow and two arrows from their bags, and strode outside.
The sea air bit at her nostrils. Beneath the fish and salt lay another scent, one she couldn’t name. It was fresh and alive and unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Perhaps it was the water itself, but if so the streams back home couldn’t compare.
The great ship cast a long shadow over the wharf. A pair of men in loose, dirty blouses and canvas pants walked the decks. She wondered if they had come from across the sea like Gabrin and Eanan.
“I’m not aboard,” a voice said. She whirled about. Gabrin smirked. “We only paid for passage. The ship itself isn’t ours. The crew will load her up with as many goods as they can carry and head back. Hopefully the fools don’t run her agr
ound. I had to correct their course multiple times during our passage.”
“But how will you get home?”
“Like as not, we won’t. Why? Are you that eager to get rid of me?” He winked.
She dipped her head, unwilling for him to see her blush. No one had ever flirted with her before.
The water beneath her rippled, and a dark head poked out of the water. She leaned forward. The creature gazed back at her, its black eyes reminding her of Soot. It bobbed up and down and gave a series of honking barks.
She gasped. “Is that a dog?”
“You’ve never seen a sea lion before?” Gabrin asked.
She shook her head. “This is my first trip to the sea. That’s a lion? My mom’s told me stories about lions. I thought they were kind of like cats, not swimming dogs.”
“Sea lion,” he said. “The cat-like variety exists, too, but only in the southern reaches.”
“Do they look anything like that?” She pointed at the creature, which rolled over, revealing a sleek but portly body and a set of flippers.
“No, not really. I’ve only seen drawings in books, of course, but like you said, more like a cat with a lot of fluff around the head.”
“Then why are these called lions?” She frowned.
He scratched his head and laughed. “You know, I have no idea. Maybe they should’ve been called ‘sea dogs.’”
The sea lion dipped below the dock and disappeared.
“Maybe you can find another ship, to take you home. I mean, don’t you have families?” she asked.
“Oh we do, but our mission is more important than blood ties. If we succeed, we’ll go down in history.” Pride filled his voice.
“I don’t think I could ever leave my family, history or not.” The wind whipped up off the sea, pushing her hair into her face, and she tightened her cloak about her.
“That’s all right, pretty one. Great men like me will make the sacrifice on your behalf.”
Her ears warmed. “I’ve known real great men. Great men fight for their families. They don’t abandon them.” She scowled and stepped away from him.