Ink Adept

by TatiAnna Tibbitts

  A silent siege.

  Hadad shook himself, extending primary flight feathers longer than her arm. “My forebears long foretold the appearance of a champion. Someone to free us from our long imprisonment. Now the prophesied hero has arisen in my generation ...” He clicked his beak. “The Windsinger smiles on us again.”

  Munayair exchanged a worried look with Khuson. Before they could speak, Hadad flared his wings, coming to a near-halt midair. Yellow eyes flashed over his shoulder, and amusement tinged his voice. “Hold on, mortals—time to dive.” He pointed his head at the ground, folded his wings, and stooped.

  Khuson cheered. Munayair grabbed blindly for his waist, swallowing a tide of vomit. The tembu dove with them, circling around and around as they plummeted through the air. Khuson’s blowing hair half-blinded her, and the wind drove tears from her eyes. She couldn’t look away from the ground rising to meet them.

  “We’re going to crash!” she screamed, clutching at Khuson.

  “Hold tight!” he yelled back. He wound the fingers of one hand through the huge feathers on the back of Hadad’s neck, the other still clenched around the squirming cat. Munayair clutched at his waist, riveted by the tree branches flashing past his shoulder. She could have reached out and touched the needles—

  Hadad’s wings snapped open. Munayair’s chin hit Khuson’s back and she tasted blood. She sent up a silent prayer of gratitude to the Windsinger as they glided through a cavernous opening near the base of the tree. Hadad touched down, rippling the congealed-water floor. She unlocked trembling arms, wincing as her joints protested.

  “Is he here?” Unruffled by the precipitous flight, Hadad looked around the cave. “The emissary?”

  Khuson dropped to the ground, grinning. The cat erupted from his arms and hurried off to smooth her ruffled fur. He held out a hand to Munayair, who snatched it, but when her feet touched ground, her legs collapsed. She reached for Khuson’s shoulders as he bent, and their foreheads collided. She reeled, sparks dancing across her vision.

  “Munayair!” He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close.

  She blinked. His eyes were bright. As his breath touched her mouth, she remembered a different time, under the silver glow of Bader’s eye. A flush darkened his cheeks, and she longed to feel the warmth of it in her hands.

  If I kissed you again, she thought, would you kiss me back this time?

  “Naya!” A joyous shout interrupted her thoughts. Khuson released her like a fiery log and she staggered back. Anjita burst into the sunlight, arms outstretched, and nearly knocked her over yet again with a bone-creaking hug. Her hair was wet, and she smelled of clean water and minerals as she laughed into Munayair’s ear. Ronyl followed sedately, flanked by a half-dozen dark-furred goblins.

  Yawning, Bast stumbled after. A small army of whispering spirits trailed in his wake, resembling the progress of a king and his retinue. “Oh, there you are, kid,” he said, haggard with relief. “Where did you get to?” His eyes were a little wild. His entourage hung back, gawking at his every move. Hadad’s tail flared and he bent to preen his breast, keen yellow eye fixed on the long-awaited emissary. Bast stiffened when he saw the thunderer and he edged nearer to Munayair.

  “I go to sleep for a few bells and you’re running around embracing men? And not just any man, the Night Watcher himself?” Anjita giggled in Munayair’s ear. “I’ll have to take more naps.”

  Munayair’s face flooded with heat as she stepped back. “Any improvement?”

  “Yes, thank you for noticing. I am more beautiful,” Anjita said, striking a pose.

  Munayair smacked her arm. “You know what I mean.”

  “Oh. That.” Anjita touched one of the spells on her wrist with no result. “Nothing to do but rest, the gokhai said.” She laughed, and if it was too loud and shrill only Munayair noticed.

  Munayair swallowed down a lump in her throat. “You’re strong. You’ll be fine in no time.”

  Ronyl looked around. “How were the accommodations, mortals? Can I offer anything to improve your comfort?”

  “Yeah, do something about all this water.” The whites of Bast’s eyes showed as he gazed at the walls and ceiling. “It’s messing with my head.”

  She spread her hands. “Do not fear,” she said, “these caves are normally flooded, but when I am entertaining mortal visitors, I persuade the water to be hospitable. I realize it might be unsettling at first. But believe me, you are better protected here than in any mortal dwelling.”

  “Just make it stop moving.” His eyes shifted from side to side.

  “Alas,” she said, chagrined, “to make unfrozen water still is an undertaking beyond even my abilities.”

  Anjita surveyed Khuson. “So,” she said, “Naya was right. You aren’t a spirit.”

  “Not yet.” He bowed. “Sorry to disappoint, milady.”

  “Far from it,” Anjita grinned, eyes narrowing. “In fact, I owe you a bruise or two from the other night. Perhaps I could persuade you to spar with me?”

  Khuson’s eyes gleamed. “I am at your service, milady.”

  “Call me Anjita.”

  He bowed again, this time with a flourish. “Khuson.”

  She winked broadly at Munayair. “Sorry for interrupting earlier.”

  “I’ll overlook it this time.” He winked at Munayair as well. “Don’t let it happen again.”

  Munayair’s face was on fire and her stomach sank. Spirits, now there are two of them.

  “Oh, we’re going to get along just fine,” Anjita snickered. She turned. “See, Ronyl, no need to fret. Our wayward ones have returned.”

  “You would not be so glad if you knew where they had been.” Ronyl glanced between them before bowing to Hadad.

  Anjita whirled, eyes wide. “What’s this? You got into adventures without me, Naya?”

  “It was nothing.” Munayair grimaced and shook her head, aware of Khuson watching with a grin.

  Hadad shook his head and light danced between his feathers. “You’re too modest, Lady Moon,” he rumbled. “Picking a fight with a fire spirit is hardly nothing.”

  When Hadad spoke, Bast let out a yelp and hid behind Munayair. She could feel his violent trembling. Even Anjita backed away, taking in the half-transparent spirit with wide eyes. “What is that thing?” she hissed.

  Hadad froze, wings half-unfurled. His eyes flashed. Dashjin darted to Munayair’s shoulder, followed by pale-faced Tevulai and Engge. “Warn the journeyer to watch her words!” Dashjin hissed in her ear. “Insulting the thunderer is very dangerous!”

  Khuson scurried forward and bowed low. “Lord Thunderer, I neglected to introduce—”

  “Thing?” Hadad repeated, tilting his head. Thunder rumbled overhead, and a damp breeze stirred the branches of the tree. “I am a high elemental, mortal.”

  Ronyl held up placating hands. “Lord Hadad, pray take no offense. Mortals these days have no notion of the dignities paid your forefathers.”

  Hot yellow gaze still burning, Hadad settled back. “Still, a thing—”

  “Am I dreaming?” Bast obviously imagined he was whispering, but it echoed. “Did that bird ... cloud ... thing speak?”

  Khuson burst into nervous laughter, looking to Munayair for help. “Goodman Hashemi, this is Hadad. Hadad, Goodman Hashemi. The emissary of Adasari.”

  Hadad’s beak clicked, but he collected himself and shook back ruffled feathers. “I am Lord Hadad, Thunderer and Night Watcher, protector of all within my domain.” He bowed gracefully, wingtips quivering at their fullest extent. “I welcome the emissary of our great allies from Adasari.”

  “Not this again,” Anjita griped to no one.

  Bast went white. His hand gripped Munayair’s shoulder. “D-did it say Night Watcher?”

  At the word it, sparks crackled among Hadad’s feathers and his beak clacked. Munayair glanced at Khuson, then they moved in unison, one to each of the other humans. She took her place by Anjita and placed a quelling hand on her arm. “
Please be respectful of Lord Hadad,” she whispered. “He’s very important to the spirits here. Plus he saved our lives this morning.” Which, she was sure, was only a slight exaggeration.

  “I’m an adept of the word, Naya,” Anjita grumbled. “I can’t go paying court to these spirits as if I were a pagan!” She glanced at Munayair’s face and relented. “Fine, I’ll play nice. It just gets on my nerves how everyone around here worships that kidnapping lout.”

  Meanwhile, laughing a little too cheerfully, Khuson grabbed Bast in a choking embrace. “What a prankster,” he growled. “Imagine, the emissary of Adasari not recognizing the Night Watcher! Wouldn’t that be a disaster!”

  “Get off!” Bast shoved him away and stumbled into Munayair.

  A familiar smell of rotten molasses assailed her nose and she grabbed his shoulder. “Where did you get tharra?” she hissed.

  He tapped his nose. “Those monsters didn’t take my boot flask before they locked me up.”

  Tevulai giggled while Munayair rubbed at the beginnings of a headache. At least the two of them weren’t insulting Hadad on accident anymore.

  Dashjin flew forward, bowing to Hadad. “Permit me to make proper introductions, Lord Thunderer.” He gestured. “Journeyer Adept Anjita Mahil, Emissary Bast Hashemi. This is Hadad, spirit of the thunderstorm.”

  Munayair kicked Anjita’s ankle under their skirts. “Try to not get us struck by lightning,” she hissed.

  Anjita curtsied with practiced grace. “Great Spirit, my error was in not recognizing your majesty at once. Please permit me to grovel at your—ehm—talons.”

  “Jita,” Munayair gasped.

  Engge let out a squeaking laugh before Tevulai clapped a hand over his mouth. Even Khuson’s smile had grown painful. But Hadad inclined his head, still adjusting feathers with a serrated beak. “I accept your apology, mortal. My temper is short, these days.” He turned to Bast, who stumbled back. “Any friend of my champion is a friend of mine.”

  “Friend,” Anjita repeated, eyebrows twitching, “is not the word.”

  Bast inclined his head nervously, finally catching on. “I guess—I’m sorry, too. For not knowing you. When my grandmother spoke of the Night Watcher, I never thought—”

  “Say the thing again! Say it for Lord Thunderer!” a tembu, swimming through the air by Bast’s shoulder, cried. The spirits clustered around Bast drew closer, staring.

  He gulped and whispered, “In truth are all things set free.”

  The spirits let out a cheer and Hadad’s wingtips flared. “Wisdom indeed, emissary. And do not be troubled by your error—there is ample time yet to become acquainted.” Yellow eyes collected the dim cavern light until they glowed. “We will need to work together to resolve this business with the mages.”

  Bast hunched, and Munayair pressed a hand to his shoulder, comforting this time. She knew all too well the kind of pressure he was facing, and she wanted him to know he didn’t have to face it alone.

  “Come, Lord Hadad.” Ronyl stepped between them. “These troubles can wait, and we have already kept the humans too long from their nourishment.”

  Munayair’s stomach grumbled at the same moment Bast perked up. “Food?”

  Ronyl gestured fluidly. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. I have made arrangements for provender such as mortal bodies require.”

  In the gloom, Munayair had failed to see the cavern was a dining room. Near the center stood a large table formed from the same congealed water as the walls. It was piled high with fish and greens. Standing beside the table were four wooden chairs. Munayair’s stomach growled again and she followed Anjita to a seat. Ulgeroi danced around them, prattling amongst themselves in tiny voices. The spirits coaxed another Hashemi family motto out of Bast and the resulting cheer rolled around the room.

  “Oh,” Anjita said. “Before I forget.” She pulled a familiar chelka from her pocket. Tel’s limbs drooped; energy matrix drained by his long night’s vigil. Munayair smoothed a finger over his forehead, tension leaving her shoulders she didn’t even realize she was carrying.

  “I have something for you, too,” she said, reaching into her pocket and bringing out the white moon pin of the keepers. Anjita took it, turning it over in her fingers before returning it to its accustomed place on her collar. A line deepened by her eyebrow.

  Bast hurried towards them, still shadowed by eager spirits. “Kid, can I—” he bleated.

  “Your seat is here, boatman,” Anjita commanded, pointing next to herself. “Where I can keep an eye on you.” She then winked at Munayair.

  Bast looked beseechingly at Munayair but sat where directed, avoiding Hadad’s gaze. Thanks to Anjita’s maneuvering, Munayair sank next to Khuson, blushing and cursing herself for it. Hadad settled against the wall, fluffing out his wings like an enormous hen. The cat waited until his restless movement had settled, then leaped onto his back and curled on the downy crook of his neck.

  “How’s your head?” Khuson whispered over as he sat, a worried crease between his eyebrows.

  Munayair nodded, unable to meet his eyes. She hoped he couldn’t see the blush rising or hear her pounding heartbeat. Seeking a diversion, she brushed her hand over the seat of her chair. She marveled at the strange, smooth grooves in the grain, the graceful organic lines of the structure. “These are the only wooden objects I’ve seen in your house,” she said.

  “My father used to reserve such items for mortal visits,” Ronyl said. “The cypress is happy to donate her old wood, and I shape them myself using the spring.”

  Munayair fell silent, awed by the idea of water carving a chair from wood. How long had it taken? How old was the tree? She glanced up at the spreading branches visible through the open roof.

  Unburdened by such reflections, Anjita surveyed the table. “Did you make all this for us, Ronyl?” she asked, leaning in to sniff.

  “I asked the water sprites to prepare dishes to tempt you,” Ronyl said. “Spirits do not consume matter as mortals do, but I have seen much of the ways of men, and my body is home to scores of fish and water plants. Is it satisfactory?” Her form wavered a little—Munayair realized she was anxious.

  “Oh, lady,” Anjita said reverently, “I haven’t had a good fresh fish for more than eight years now. Are those oysters?” She dug in, and the others followed her example. They feasted on raw young salmon and freshwater shellfish. Water chestnuts, red crayfish with long feelers, river grass, and other simple dishes.

  Bast wiped his mouth on his sleeve and reached across Anjita for a handful of dripping water chestnuts. She drove an elbow into his ribs, and he yelped. “Hey, what was that for?”

  Anjita turned to Munayair and muttered, “Couldn’t you have waited to go adventuring? Imagine my disappointment when he was the first thing I saw this morning.” She lifted a crayfish. “I’d rather spend quality time with one of these.”

  “I can hear you,” Bast growled.

  “I know.” She tossed the crayfish back into the pile and turned the full weight of her glare on him. He shrank back and stuffed a handful of grass into his mouth.

  “So, you never told me what you two were doing out so early.” Her eyes sparkled at Munayair and Khuson over her oysters. “What’s this about a fire spirit? I hope that’s a euphemism.”

  “Stop.” Munayair’s cheeks warmed. “You know I always watch the sun rise.”

  “Oh, I do know,” Anjita said. “But you’ve always refused company in the past. It makes me wonder what else you shared for the first time.” She winked.

  “You’ve never taken anyone before?” Khuson tried to meet Munayair’s gaze, but she hid her flaming cheeks behind a curtain of hair. Bast chewed loudly, oblivious.

  “Never!” Anjita exclaimed. “I know Naya won’t admit it, so I need the truth from you, Kuku, as my newest friend. Did she conduct herself well? Would I be ashamed?”

  “Oh, you need have no worries, Anji,” Khuson replied. “She faced the fire and only flinched a little.”

/>   Anjita fanned her face. “Scandalous.”

  “Anjita, you’re letting your imagination run wild again.” Munayair met Khuson’s gaze. “Besides, who says it was my first time?”

  Anjita’s eyes widened and her lips curved delightedly. “Naya!” she squealed. Khuson sat blinking, a bite of water chestnut forgotten halfway to his mouth.

  Returning to her food, Munayair let her hair fall to hide her smile. She glanced at Bast. “Feeling better?” she asked.

  Bast grumbled, eyes still shifting, greens protruding as he chewed. “If you call enforced bedrest by a pack of monsters ‘better’.”

  Munayair surveyed him. “You look better.”

  He did, too. The scar on his arm was white, as if it were many years old. The dark bags under his eyes were gone, the grime had been washed from his face and hair. His usual fetid odor had been replaced with the scent of herbs. Even his hands trembled less.

  “Well, I slept great,” he said with a scowl. “No doubt courtesy of the gokhai.”

  “Bamboozled your head, did she?” Anjita snorted. “I would have thought you’d be used to that.”

  Bast shuddered, the whites of his eyes flashing. “And now she’s set her minions to tail my every move, no matter how private.” His cheeks flushed dark red. “I can’t make out whether they’re jailers or tormentors, but they do both jobs equally well.” Munayair chewed hard to hide a smile. She met Khuson’s eyes and saw the same mirth reflected at her. “I’m waiting for them to attack,” Bast continued, eyes wide. “My heart can’t take it.”

  Anjita huffed. “Count your silver ruchira, boatman. If I had the keeping of you, you’d be in far less comfortable quarters.” He slurped at a juicy oyster, and she glared at him. “I’ve half a mind to wipe that smirk off your face, right now—”

  The conversation was taking a downward turn. Munayair turned to Khuson and mouthed, Say something!