Inkspice (The Mapweaver Chronicles Book 2)

by Kaitlin Bellamy

  Lady Virrix screamed in agony as the plants were torn from her, and she fought with everything she had to pull herself free of the rushing waters. But Fox, his teeth gritted in focus, shifted her path far away from him. He could hear her cursing him until she was silenced by the salt and sea.

  The Shavid began to cheer, their voices joined by the commoners once they realized they were safe. Within moments, people were fighting to climb back down the buildings, and help force open the gates. The Shavid wagons rolled through the square, Darby driving in the lead, shouting order everywhere he went. Everyone who could grab on as he passed did, as Neil and Gully helped them climb safely inside as best they could.

  At Fox’s side, Farran was beaming proudly, though he seemed to be struggling to keep his own magic up. “Learned something new, did you?” he shouted over the din of crashing water and howling wind.

  “Not all maps have to be parchment and pen,” Fox replied, starting to return the smile. But then, there was a great tremor as the entire city began to shake again. And not from the water, but from a resurgence of vines appearing all along the walls. They could be seen surrounding the city, thick and wooded, growing faster and faster until they curved inward and began forming a shell around the city. And Fox realized, too late, what he’d done.

  “It’s trying to protect the city!” he called out. “Making a cage around it, like it did with Evie!”

  The commoners had started to realize that they were about to be trapped, and fresh screams filled the air. Soon, all of Calibas would be trapped inside the World Seed’s protective prison, until it absorbed every one of them. It wanted to keep them safe, that’s what it had said. It built the entire city for the people. And now, its last act would be to swallow them whole.

  “Stop the floods, get everyone you can out!” ordered Fox, turning to look at Farran. But the pirate had dropped to a knee with a cry of pain. And behind Farran, bloody sword in hand, stood a panting and soaking wet Vol Tyrr. He had somehow survived the initial onslaught of floodwaters, and now he ran at Fox, knocking him off his feet and pinning him to the ground.

  “You little worthless piece of scum,” spat Vol Tyrr, his face terrifyingly red with fury. “How dare you undo all of my precious work?”

  “I’m afraid it’s the end of the world, General,” Fox replied, flexing his fingers and wrapping them around the nearest root, hoping it would be enough. “The end of the one you and your seed would have created. It stops here, as do you.”

  As Vol Tyrr raised a sword over his head, aiming to strike Fox down, Fox held his breath and pulled with his free hand, re-shaping his own ink map, and the tide swept over both of them. For a moment, Fox’s grip held as he clung to the root, trying not to be overwhelmed by the flood. But, as the General was pulled away from him, his sword caught Fox’s arm and opened up a deep gash, and Fox let go. He was yanked away with the rest of the flood, and panic began to set in. He hadn’t seen where Farran had gone, or how bad the damage was. He was being pulled along with the rest of the mages and city guard, slammed against buildings and caught up in trees. Trying to focus as he was swept away with the waves, Fox grasped at his protective amulet with his one good arm, closing his eyes and forcing everything he had left into one plea. Not for his own life, but for Farran’s. The god had sacrificed himself once before for Fox. He would not be allowed to lose himself again. Someone was waiting for him, and it didn’t matter that Fox couldn’t remember who she was ... he knew in his heart that he would do anything to protect her. And that meant keeping her father, the pirate king, alive.

  Clutched in his hand, the amulet grew warm and began to vibrate, before it shattered. A spiderweb of cuts filled Fox’s palm, and he tried to shout underwater in pain. For the second time in less than a half an hour, Fox couldn’t breathe. But this time, he let himself relax. He had chosen this. And he knew that Farran could get the Shavid to safety. Fox had done his part.

  And, as he began to sink into darkness, he remembered: her name was Lai. And he was in love with her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A Change in the Wind

  A light Autumn frost dusted the streets and fields of Thicca Valley. Windows were fogged over in white, and every house had begun stacking firewood, preparing for winter. Clouds hung low over the mountains, obscuring their peaks and threatening an early snowfall. A bitterly cold wind had moved into the valley, sweeping through every street, and whistling through every crack and exposed chink in wood or stone. Soon, the Five Sides was full to bursting each evening, with patrons preferring to crowd into the warmth, rather than brave the biting chill out of doors.

  For Lai, the changing of the season meant more than just extra work at the tavern. At least, this year it did. With a bow slung over her back, one afternoon at the start of the unseasonably cold Autumn, she walked up the stairs to the Foxglove cabin and stood before the front door. Her gloved hand was inches away from the handle when she froze, suddenly indecisive. When Fox had lived here, she had never knocked. She had simply walked in like she belonged, and the Foxgloves had always been happy to see her. Now, however, she hadn’t set foot in the cabin since her best friend left with the Shavid, and she had only seen his parents out in the valley or at the Five Sides.

  It had been during one such encounter that a deal had been struck between Trapper Foxglove and Lai. He’d heard how well she was doing with the trainees, and with Fox on the road he was at risk of pulling in far less game than he usually did. A bargain was struck, allowing Lai the chance to earn fresh meat for the tavern, and Trapper Foxglove to gather more furs and hides for the caravan. And so, today she’d donned hunting gear and wrapped herself in enough warmth to keep her going through the forest all evening.

  “The door won’t bite,” said a voice behind her now, making Lai swing around. Trapper Foxglove was emerging from the stable, dressed in thick furs that made him look twice as broad as usual. He smiled warmly at her, pulling on his own gloves as he approached. “I know you haven’t graced it with your presence of late, but it’s still the same door. Same house. Same crazy old couple living out their days, missing the same boy that you are.”

  Lai could feel the flush of embarrassment warming her cheeks, and knew her face was reddening with shame and guilt. “I should have come by earlier,” she conceded. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve been busy,” said Trapper Foxglove with a shrug. “Molding your own personal army can be taxing, as I understand it.”

  “It’s no excuse,” said Lai firmly. “I should have been here earlier. Should have stopped by at all during the summer. I just ...” She swallowed, not sure of her own words. But she didn’t need to be. He understood.

  Taking her around the shoulders as they started off, Trapper Foxglove said, “You can make it up to my wife by joining us for supper tonight when we return. She’ll want to cook you a hot meal, and swap stories about Fox’s letters all night long I’d imagine.”

  “It is long overdue, sir,” said Lai with a relieved grin.

  “That it is, Blackroot.”

  ∞∞∞

  By the time the pair returned to the cabin later that evening, hauling a deer carcass and a handful of rabbits between them, Lai was freezing and exhausted. There was much more to hunting than just aiming her bow, she had quickly learned. Her training with the militia had definitely helped, but still her feet hurt from running through uneven woods after their fleeing quarry. Her shoulders and back ached from standing with her bow drawn for several minutes at a time while she waited for the perfect moment to loose the arrow. And, her hands were sore and ice cold from checking and resetting traps. But, the whole experience had been thrilling, and she was eager to get better at it.

  As they entered the kitchen, a bouquet of mouth-watering smells filled the air, and Ma Foxglove immediately wrapped Lai in a blanket of patchwork rabbit furs, handing her a steaming mug of thick broth to warm her up. Soon, the three were seated around the blazing fire pit at the heart of the kitchen, dining on
goat meat stew and boiled potatoes, with sweet and sticky cakes stuffed with fruit for dessert. They drank mugs of thick, spiced hot chocolate, as Lai’s extremities finally began to thaw again.

  “Darling, it’s just been lovely to have you back,” said Ma Foxglove as they ate. “Promise you’ll never go this long without stopping by again?” she asked, and Lai nodded vigorously.

  “Never again,” she agreed.

  Trapper Foxglove stretched with a groan of satisfaction, and added, “Come around enough, and I can teach you more than just hunting. The animals have got to be skinned, and the hides have to be tanned and treated. There’s a lot more work that goes into this than I’ve had to do alone since Fox was two.”

  “Gods,” said Ma Foxglove, smiling reminiscently. “I’d forgotten he started that young. He always was ahead of his age, wasn’t he? Couldn’t keep him out of the workshop no matter how hard we tried, he was so eager to help.” With a slight giggle, she added, “Maybe this next one will be more of the same.”

  “Next one?!” shrieked Lai, then covered her mouth to stifle her outburst. But both Foxglove parents were grinning at her, and Ma Foxglove nodded as her husband placed a gentle hand on her stomach.

  “The midwife says it’s meant to be born in late spring,” she said. “So, as you can imagine, we’re incredibly grateful you can help at all with caravan preparations.”

  “Of course!” said Lai at once. “Anything you need! Rose has been doing more at the tavern since she started living there, and Widow Mossgrove doesn’t really need me as much now that her sons are getting to an age where they can really be useful around the farm,” she said, thinking out loud. And then, realizing with a start, she asked, “Does Fox know?”

  “I’ve written about it in my latest letter,” said Ma Foxglove, standing to retrieve a small box from beside the kitchen window. “I’ve been waiting to send it off with Pa, once he leaves for the caravan. It’ll be easier to get letters to him, wherever he is, outside of the valley. And it gives me time to get him a midwinter gift packaged as well.” She sat back at the fire, opening the box and revealing an interior simply packed with parchment. It looked like every letter Fox had ever written her, along with the one she was preparing to send. “Do you want Pa to deliver something for you as well?”

  For a moment, Lai dropped her gaze back to her food in discomfort. It had been months since Fox had last sent her a letter. For awhile, she’s simply assumed he’d been too busy to write. But now, seeing the stack of correspondences sitting in Ma Foxglove’s lap, Lai realized that wasn’t the case. And a pain began to develop in her chest that she couldn’t quite explain. Forcing it down, she said, “Don’t wait for me. If I think of something to send, I’ll absolutely pass it along.”

  A knowing look passed between the two adults briefly, and Ma Foxglove slowly closed her box of letters once more. For a moment, they all sat in silence, until finally Trapper Foxglove spoke up. “You know, I do love the yearly trade caravan,” he said casually. “So many new things to see and do. The traveler in me never gets tired of visiting strange places, and the excitement of the unfamiliar road. The taste of foreign wines, the sound of exotic music we don’t hear in Sovesta ... ” He grabbed a fire prong from its place beside the pit, and poked at a waning log, sending it crumbling into a shower of sparks and dying flames. “But,” he continued, “the thing I love best is coming back home at the end of it all. And telling the people I care about all the fantastic stories.”

  He looked across the flames at Lai. “There is an intoxicating wonder about the strange lands outside of our mountain boarders. It can be distracting, and alluring in a way that makes lesser men wonder if they shouldn’t just stay on the open road forever. But good men, strong men, know that their hearth and home are more worthy than anything they’ll find out there.” He squeezed his wife tighter to him, and kissed her on the top of her head. “Our son, I am proud to say, is stronger than any of us.”

  “But you are a different kind of wanderer,” said Lai. “Waresemen travel to feed and keep their homes. Shavid travel because they have no home.”

  “And you?” asked Ma Foxglove. “Where is your home?”

  “It’s with the Five Sides,” said Lai at once, “and the trainees. And my family. They’ve always been ... I’ve always ... ” She trailed off, realizations suddenly beginning to dawn on her. Was Thicca Valley ever truly meant to be her home? It hadn’t felt the same since Fox left. She found herself constantly wondering about her mother, sequestered away in the Whitethorn temple, all memories of Lai gone from her mind. She dreamed every night of life on board a ship with Farran, her natural father. And, when she started to feel guilty about leaving Borric to tend to the Five Sides without her, she stopped. The tavern was Picck’s inheritance now, and had been for over a year. At last spring’s Courter’s Contests, Picck had been made Borric’s official heir, to elevate him to a high enough social standing to make him a worthy husband for Rose. And, he’d risen to the occasion spectacularly. The entirety of the Five Sides ran so smoothly now, even when Lai was gone for hours on end training with her small militia.

  Fox. When he’d left, Lai had made him promise to return to her. “You’d better come back one day,” she’d said. “‘Cause I’m not marrying anyone but you.” It had seemed an obvious choice back then. They were so close, and Lai had been sure that she and Fox had the same sort of connection as his parents. They had always been just as comfortable with each other, connected in a way Lai had never found with any other member of Thicca Valley. But the conversation had never been brought up again, by either of them. No letters mentioned any promises, or plans. No courtship had been initiated. And now, despite everything Trapper Foxglove was trying to say, Lai knew in her heart that she had stopped waiting. The wind had simply taken Fox in a different direction, one where Lai could not follow.

  It was one thing to dream about traveling the high seas and seeing the world. Another thing entirely to give in to the desire.

  “Here,” she said finally, though the answer felt forced and wrong even as she said it. “My place is here. And I will continue to be here, and help you hunt and trap, and stop by and spoil that new child of yours,” she added with a laugh.

  The Foxgloves didn’t press the issue, and the rest of the evening passed easily, filled with light conversation. When Lai finally made her way back home and crawled into bed, she was so tired she didn’t bother undressing. She wrapped her arms around her pillow and hugged it to her, eager for a long sleep through until morning.

  That plan was interrupted in the middle of the night, when she awoke to find her own bed flooding with saltwater.

  ∞∞∞

  Farran had returned. Lai could feel it in her blood, and the magic coursing through it. Every day, she felt the lure of the ocean life calling to her. And each night, while she slept, her unchecked and untrained powers transformed her room around her. She found seaweed everywhere, and barnacles growing out of her bedposts. Her mattress always smelled of brine, and she found she loved it. She could hear the ghosts of pirate sailors from her dreams, singing and chanting, even as she awoke. It took longer each morning for the sounds to fade and let her get on with her day, and she could often hear their shanties on the wind as she trained with her cutlass.

  The dreams would have been one thing, but there were other parts of her father’s personality that had begun leaking over into Lai’s own. She caught herself easily distracted by shiny things the valley folk wore, and more than once she pocketed gold coins that did not belong to her, without remembering that she’d done so. She quickly built up a hoard of precious items beneath her bed, and despised them more each time she added to it. The plundering was simply a compulsion, taking over her body and mind just as the pirate sword had done.

  “But you’ve mastered the cutlass,” said Cullen one day. The two sat on the floor of Lai’s room, her small fortune piled up between them. By now, the walls had become entirely overgrown with all manner of unders
ea growth that somehow survived out of water, and all of the candles burned blue on their own, no matter how many times Lai re-lit them, or replaced them. “You can simply train yourself out of this. Magic is just like any tool. Your skills can be honed, and turned to your advantage.”

  Lai clutched her knees to herself, trying to hold back tears of frustration. “I don’t want this,” she whispered. “Everything is changing too fast, and ... I just can’t keep up.” She took a deep, shuddering breath, and buried her head in her hands. “Nothing makes sense anymore.”

  There was a rustling of fabric, and a sudden warmth by her side as Cullen moved to sit next to her. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around her, gently brushing his fingertips along her arm as he spoke. “Plenty of things still make sense. Just breathe. Focus on the things you know to be true.” With his other hand, he reached out and carefully intertwined his fingers with hers. “You know your own strength, and you know your trainees worship you as their own captain. You know things are changing, but it’s not the first time. You’ve tamed your wild Godkin nature before, and you will again.” His voice grew rougher as he spoke, and Lai turned her head to watch him out of the corner of her eye. “I think you also know you don’t have to do it alone,” Cullen said quietly. “And,” he swallowed hard, and an embarrassed smile began to twist at the corners of his mouth, “I believe you know how I feel about you.”

  Lai sat up straighter, staring at the man sitting beside her. The one who’d always been there, and made it quite clear he would always be there. An anchor to Thicca Valley, and someone worth staying for. And, for the first time in the weeks since her dinner at the Foxglove cabin, Lai felt sure of something. Without another moment of hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him with such thorough conviction that even she hardly believed it was her first. For a moment, Cullen seemed taken aback. But then, his hands found a grip on her waist, and he kissed her back just as passionately.