Veritas

by St Clare, Kelly

  The goat-man she’d mouthed off to earlier yanked on the rope around her neck. Ebba stumbled forward, barely keeping her feet as she choked for air.

  “Keep up,” he barked.

  Running on flat ground was easier than the beach though the occasional pebble and the presence of the thorns had her constantly scanning the island floor lest she step on one. Ebba picked up the pace, breath even and head clearing as she settled into a steady rhythm in tandem with the goat-men. How far would they take her? Ebba was fit, but she also hadn’t had food or water in two days. Her wounds from entering Matey’s mouth were largely healed, aside from the deepest one, but keeping this pace up for more than an hour would be a near-impossible task.

  She’d have to worry about that later. Her task was to find out as much as she could about these things before her fathers arrived.

  If they arrived.

  The Capricorn had carted her here for two days and a night without stopping, their pace that of a ship at full speed. How would her fathers know where to find her? Or would they be helped to this spot since it was a trap? If Matey was still with them, they might be hot on her trail already. If they had to row themselves, the rescue party could be a week away, no match for the speed of the Capricorn.

  She didn’t even know if they’d all survived the attack.

  Hopelessness threatened to overwhelm her, and Ebba did her best to force that back as she leaped over a wiry vine and ran down an incline after the creatures. It wasn’t fair to have come so far and collected almost all the parts just to have their efforts thwarted. But she had to focus. There were five parts to secure. And every situation had a silver lining. Her fathers were coming to her, solving the problem of how she’d hold all five parts and how Ebba would find her crew again after escaping. There might even be a possibility the sixth part was on this island. A grim smile curved her lips. That had to be why these creatures wanted the other parts—the final piece of the weapon was here. Except the beasts were tainted, which she had to assume meant they wanted the weapon for the wrong reason.

  The front of the herd slowed, and Ebba slowed with them.

  Too soon, as she discovered.

  Both beasts ripped on the ropes and sent her flying to the ground. Ebba yanked her arms up in front of her face, crying out as the ground tore at the skin on her forearms. She landed on the wound on the right side of her torso and screamed.

  Gasping, she rolled onto her side, curling into a ball as pain licked her torso.

  “Careful. Or it will be your head,” snapped the leader. “The orders were clear. She must be intact.”

  His words permeated the fog of agony surrounding her skull. Orders.

  Panting, she uncurled and rolled to her hands and knees, lifting an arm to cradle her side. They had orders. Which meant this wasn’t the last stop. Where in Davy Jones’ were they taking her?

  Terror rooted her to the spot as something she’d missed clicked into place.

  She gasped, but not from the pain. These creatures were tainted. Which meant they’d had contact with the six pillars’ evil power. Her breath came fast. These beasts didn’t want the weapon for themselves. They were taking her and the rest of her crew to the pillars. Along with the five parts, six if they had the remaining one in their possession.

  Shite. This was bad. Really, really bad.

  Ebba barely noticed as she was wrenched to her feet and the ropes removed.

  The leader sneered at her, his goat face twisting. “She’s filthy. Not fit to be seen.”

  She’d like to see him after the week she’d just had. Still, there might be an offer to be clean in his disgust, and she’d take it.

  “What are ye?” she asked, tilting her chin.

  “Satyr,” he announced after peering down his nose at her. He drew himself to full height, puffing his chest out.

  Satyr. That she’d never heard of them wasn’t odd, but one of Plank’s stories—or even his lifeless summary—would be appreciated right about now. They were clearly violent, and from what Ebba could tell, like the Capricorn, all of them were male. The Satyr leader seemed vain, but she didn’t know if that was true of all Satyr. They were powerfully built, and without luck or the dynami, she wouldn’t be winning any bouts against them.

  The lead Satyr looked at the two who’d brought her there and then to another pair. “Take her to the females. Tell them to make her presentable. Her companions won’t take long to arrive.”

  “How do ye know that?” she blurted. Warmth oozed out from her side. Blast it, the wound was open again.

  She’d been wrong about the lack of female Satyr too. Were they kept somewhere else?

  Ebba was shoved aside from the herd as the Satyr milled around the clearing.

  The space they’d stopped in was a wide expanse bordered by black wiry vines, but the two Satyr led her north to a narrow ascending path also bordered with the thorned plants. The steep path wound up to the highest part of the island she’d seen so far—a small hill. The track to the top was only wide enough for the Satyr to trot shoulder-to-shoulder.

  Ebba yelped as she stepped on a thorn.

  “Move,” the Satyr behind her snapped.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, hobbling now.

  They reached the top of the small hill and began down the other side, moving in large circles around the outside of what appeared to be a circular canyon in the middle of the hill. It was like an apple with the core removed. The outer wall of the descending path was solid rock, but the inner edge opened into the canyon.

  Ebba leaned to peer over the lip and gasped.

  A blue lagoon glistened below.

  The Satyr showed no signs of stopping before the bottom, and Ebba began to anticipate being clean in earnest. A change of clothes would be welcome, but she wouldn’t hope for that much hospitality.

  The ground gradually flattened, and the Satyr directed her to stand on a jutting rock.

  She obeyed the immortals, but unease crept over her as they then turned to look at the water.

  Why did she have to stand on this exact spot, right by the lagoon? For the first time, Ebba considered that something might be living in there.

  One of the Satyr whistled, and Ebba reared back as something surged below the water. . . .

  . . . Heading directly for her.

  Seventeen

  “What’s that?” Ebba shouted as the thing surged through the lagoon toward her.

  A Satyr pushed her forward, and she toppled onto her hands and knees. She stared into the horizontal pupils of a goat and, mouth ajar, shifted her gaze to its tail and then back again. It was a Capricorn.

  The creature rose out of the water, and she saw its bared chest. A female Capricorn. The Satyr weren’t referring to the females of their kind.

  “Clean and dress her,” the Satyr ordered. “Geordian wants her presentable.”

  Ebba sat back, staring at the woman.

  “I need food and water,” Ebba said over her shoulder as her stomach rumbled. “Unless you want me to die afore you take me to the six pillars.” She held her breath.

  “Feed and water her,” the Satyr ordered the female, who nodded frantically.

  Sink her, should she take that as confirmation of the pillars’ involvement?

  The Capricorn held out her hand.

  Ebba restrained the anger that wanted to lash out at the woman because of what had happened so far. Yet the female Capricorn were here, and subservient. And the male Capricorn had been afraid. As bitter as she was toward the creatures for turning over the parts to enemy hands, if her current theory was right, Ebba could understand why they’d done so.

  “Wash yourself, mortal. And do not attempt to flee. This path is the only way out of the lagoon, and we will be standing guard in the clearing on the other side,” the Satyr who had yet to speak said in a deep voice.

  Ebba ignored them, and the Satyr left.

  She looked into the female Capricorn’s yellow eyes again before slipping down in
to the blue water fully clothed.

  “I’ve had quite the day,” Ebba told her. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ll kill ye with my bare hands if ye try anythin’.”

  The woman cast her a fearful glance.

  The male Capricorn hadn’t bothered to communicate with her though they’d understood pirate. The same seemed true of the females.

  The immortal towed Ebba to the opposite side of the lagoon, to a bunch of rocks covered from overhead view with wiry shrubs. As they neared the rocks there, more female Capricorn popped out of the water. Dozens of them.

  Most held back to the outer edges of the water, but the female carrying her bleated, and a handful of others swam over.

  “Are all female Capricorn here then?” Ebba asked.

  The creature lowered her head and nodded, directing Ebba to sit on a rock that was submerged in the water.

  “I just saw yer menfolk, did ye know?”

  The others circled her at this, their eyes wide. The woman who’d led her over clutched at her arm.

  “Aye,” she continued. “When they kidnapped me from my crew and handed me over to the Satyr.”

  Shame lit each of their gazes, and they bleated softly at one another before the woman clutching Ebba squeezed her arm gently.

  The Capricorn held a hand over her heart and dragged a finger down her goat cheek.

  They could understand her but couldn’t speak the mortal tongue. Was that because they had goat heads? Or was their magic weaker? Matey said the ability to talk the mortal tongue had to do with how much power an immortal possessed.

  Ebba blinked back a burning in her eyes. “It makes me right sad too.”

  She sat on the submerged rock as directed, the water at her waist, and watched as the female Capricorn pulled down various branches overhanging the water. They plucked in systematic order, and within minutes, a large leaf filled with berries and nuts was placed on the rock that jutted out behind her. A jug of water was deposited next to the leaf platter, and Ebba lunged for it first, gulping the contents before heeding the churning warning in her gut.

  She selected some nuts that looked like almonds and popped them into her mouth. If the Satyr wanted to kill her, they’d had ample opportunity to do so. And she was too hungry to turn down the offer of food.

  Ebba munched on the nuts, sipping more sedately at the water as the Capricorn approached with various brushes and roots. The women twisted the roots, and as they rubbed the split plant between their hands, bubbles frothed.

  “Is that soap?”

  A nod was her answer.

  One of the women gestured for Ebba to remove her clothing, and she hesitated.

  “Aye, but what if the Satyr come back?” she asked, peering around the lagoon.

  The woman pointed to the overhanging vines. They didn’t just conceal the spot from above but on each side.

  Ebba drew off the stained tunic she’d worn for the last week and slid out of her sawn-off slops as well. They were whisked away, and she sat naked on the rock.

  She glanced down at the open wound on her side. “Blast it. Still bleeding.”

  The Capricorn gasped, and within a minute, moss was pressed against the wound. Ebba applied pressure and peered up again as the women set to work washing her. It briefly occurred to her to take over, but in all honesty, she was surprised to still be relatively upright at this point.

  “What be the deal then?” she asked them. “They keep ye here to blackmail yer men folk?”

  Those within listening range dipped their heads.

  “How long?” Ebba asked.

  The closest creature held up five fingers.

  “Five months?”

  She shook her goat head.

  “Years?” When that elicited the same reaction, Ebba said incredulously, “Fifty years?”

  They confirmed her guess with a soft bleat, and Ebba felt physically sick. “And ye’ve just been in this lagoon that entire time?”

  They were prisoners. And suffered the worst fate Ebba could imagine—they were separated from their loved ones. The men of their kind had to feel utterly hopeless; unable to attack the Satyr because they couldn’t move on land, subject to carry out the Satyr’s orders at sea to keep their women safe. Ebba wished she’d tried harder to talk to the men. Maybe they could have reached an agreement to save their women.

  If only she’d been holding the scio at the time instead of the dynami.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered to them. “That’s right horrible.”

  The scrubbing stopped briefly as they squeezed and patted her.

  “When my fathers free me, we’ll take ye back to the sea,” Ebba told them.

  The Capricorn stopped, lowering the brushes and roots in their hands to stare at her. They didn’t believe her.

  “I ain’t sayin’ they’ll get here,” she added. “I was carried an awful long way. But if they do find me, we’ll figure a way to get ye out.”

  They offered polite smiles and went back to work.

  How many guests had been shoved at them to clean in the past? “Am I the first visitor ye’ve had in fifty years?”

  A Capricorn ducked below the surface and reappeared with freshwater plants amassed in a wild array on her head.

  Ebba snorted as the women made a stuttered bleating sound that she assumed was laughter.

  “Ye’ve met a Jendu, I take. I met my first one only a few days ago. Ye’re right. They have terrible hair.”

  The women laughed again.

  They worked up her body, carefully cleaning her wound and placing fresh moss over it. She was encouraged farther into the water where they cleaned her dreads and face. Slowly, the grime that had accumulated since Felicity’s sinking was removed, and Ebba found new heart in that and having her hunger and thirst quenched.

  They worked an oil over her skin that left her glistening and smelling of flowers.

  Ebba sneezed. “What is that shite? It smells like brothel.”

  Her comment only caused confusion, and she waved the matter aside, popping another handful of berries into her mouth and gulping down more water.

  “I thought ye’d eat fish, livin’ in the water an’ all. Ain’t it hard to find berries and nuts in the sea?” she asked them. Was this their normal diet?

  The closest immortal shook her head, pointing at the water.

  She frowned. “There ain’t any fish here?”

  The Capricorn froze.

  Ebba dropped her hand, freezing too. “Was that rude or sumpin’?”

  Her words trickled away as music floated to them from above. Soft, lilting music. If Ebba had to put a word to it, she’d say seductive, almost like Calypso was working his thrall with his voice alone. She knew the sound came from flutes. She’d seen the small instruments around the Satyrs’ necks.

  The Capricorn abandoned her, their faces dropping, and swam for the middle of the lagoon. All of them left the edges to join.

  Ebba crossed her arms over her chest, scanning the area before her and above to check the Satyr couldn’t see her. What was going on?

  The Capricorn danced in the water, writhing, laying on their backs, chests bared. Ebba listened to the stamping coming from high above, the jeer and whistles, and bile rose up through her throat.

  The Satyr had gathered to watch the female Capricorn dance, but the expression on the females’ faces told her they were hating every minute of the show.

  A burning anger filled her, ugly and dark. Lacking the outlet she wanted—to slaughter every single Satyr—the emotion swept to her welling eyes. Ebba turned away from the women’s unwilling dance to the rocks behind her.

  Her attention was drawn back as objects began to slap the water.

  Fish.

  The Satyr were throwing fish down.

  “They only feed them if they dance,” Ebba seethed, dashing at her wet face.

  The Capricorn grabbed at the fish, collecting them. Her group returned, gazes dropped to the surface of the lagoon.

&n
bsp; Ebba was going to free them if it was the last thing she did.

  Eighteen

  The Capricorn’s knowledge of land was understandably limited, so while Ebba was cleaner than she’d been in her life and smelling like a bloody bouquet, they’d dressed her and then dragged her through the water to await the Satyr. As a result, Ebba stood shivering in a dress that put Medusa’s to shame. Was this her life now? Would the dresses only get smaller? Would she spend her life soaked through and shivering?

  Where was the Caspian Sea when she needed its warmth and life? Take her away from this empty void filled with things meant to make her soul cry, she thought. Deliver her to what she’d known and what she loved.

  Night had fallen.

  She judged this by the drop in temperature and nothing else. Though the cold could be put down to her lack of clothing. The female Capricorn, courtesy of the Saytr no doubt, had brought several dress options that ranged from strategically placed plants to . . . this.

  Ebba was covered from chest to mid-thigh by a royal blue shift. Overtop of the silk shift was a breezy full-length toga that left nothing beneath it to the imagination. Every curve was on show. If she bent over, Ebba trembled at the thought of what might be put on display to people she didn’t know. Or did know. Over one shoulder, the gauzy material trailed down her back, floating in the breeze.

  From what she could tell, nothing but magic held the dress up over her chest. If she ran, she was a goner; if she jumped, she was a goner. And after the show the female Capricorn were forced to put on, Ebba preferred not to battle the Satyr butt-naked.

  But she would. Because she’d rather be naked and alive than dressed and dead.

  “I be gettin’ right sick ‘o waitin’,” she stuttered, arms around her body as shivers wracked her. She turned back to the Capricorn, who had gathered to keep her company. “I’m goin’ to head up,” Ebba told them.

  They nodded back at her, and she noted the only hope present was in the eyes of the youngest creatures.

  “I’ll come back,” she said firmly.