by B J Hanlon
Edin stood and went to the cook’s hiding spot. He pulled out the bottle and brought it back to the table. A hollow bonk echoed as he slammed it down.
“I am not sure,” Le Fie said. “What I am sure though, is if he thought you were in trouble, he’d have come immediately.”
“Bull,” Edin shouted. “That blotard can rot for all I care.” He felt the anger rising in him like the swelling of a volcano. He thought of his mother, Grent, Horston, Dephina… and the old guard Foristol. How many could’ve lived if only Rihkar had come for Edin before all of this. Edin growled. “I hate that man.”
“You’re not the only one…” Le Fie said, he paused, looked at the bottle and turned back to Edin. “He,” Le Fie started, then paused. “Never mind, this isn’t my place.”
“Then why bring him up?”
Le Fie was quiet for a moment, pondering what must’ve been a very interesting painting of two mounds on the wall. “Commonality I suppose. But that isn’t why I wish to speak with you.”
Edin glanced around again, there were stacks of dirty bowls on the counter. Remnants of broth, meat and potatoes were scattered across the floorboards, something scurried across the ground, snatched a carrot and disappeared back the way it came.
Edin sighed. “What then? I suppose I owe you for saving her.” He looked down the hall and poured himself another drink, a little too much and caught Le Fie looking gloomily at the amber liquid flowing into the mug. It would’ve been less uncomfortable if he was getting a drinking lecture from his mother.
“I am a tosoria,” Le Fie said. When Edin didn’t respond he said, “a fire magus.” Le Fie flicked his fingers and a small blue flame appeared suspended above his hand. Edin watched as it shifted colors to green, white, yellow, and then red. He remembered the fires in the cave…
It kept changing, like sun rays piercing a crystal. He barely heard Le Fie. “I’m sorry, what?” Edin asked looking back.
“What are you… exactly?”
Le Fie held his gaze. But slowly, Edin had to look away from that intensity. On Le Fie’s cheek, was a small scar cut in almost a V and nearly invisible except in a shadow. He was clean shaven, too clean shaven, as if it had been done today… somehow done on a rocking ship. If that was true it said a lot about the man.
“I am a philios.”
“A spirit mage, very rare. No philios has lived on the isles in two centuries.” He paused, “and?”
“And what?”
Le Fie’s eyes appraised him again for a moment and Edin drank. If he was going to be interrogated by the quietest interrogator of all time he might as well get a bit tipsy.
Edin averted his gaze back to the painting at the far end of the galley. It seemed odd, the mounds held what looked like saucers at the peaks. It took him a moment, his eyes focused and he sat up straight. They weren’t mounds after all, it was a woman without her top. He grew slightly red and quickly looked away.
Le Fie nodded. “Tell no one of your talents. Your father was powerful.” Le Fie said drawing Edin back to the present. “As magi grow older, we attain more power. There are theories that we become one with the talent as we age. I’ve seen a centenarian, a man of a hundred years, create a vortex to rival any hurricane. But your father could nearly raise mountains at your age. It sure made your grandfather proud.”
Edin swallowed. Talents? He said talents right? Not talent, singular.
Le Fie knew, Edin remembered the boat and when he controlled the water, used the ethereal knives and then the lightning. Did Le Fie see it all? The look in his eyes said, yes.
“Some people fear power like that. They fear what a person more powerful than they are can do. Anything out of the ordinary, anything that could supplant the current structure of let’s say the Praesidium, will be looked upon poorly.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I didn’t.” He winked. Again, Edin was taken aback by it. Then Le Fie sighed. “Your father was a dear friend to me growing up. Our families were close. If you wish to talk about anything…” Le Fie stood and turned toward the stairs. His limping gait barely noticeable. “Do not tell anyone about the talents. Here or on the island. We have a couple of weeks until we reach it.”
Edin had questions. Quite a few but at that moment, like what did it mean that many people didn’t like his father? Edin drank the whiskey and sat silently.
This seemed like an overture, extending an offer of friendship. Could he trust the man he assumed was an assassin and spy? What would Arianne say? What if he was spying on Edin for the Inquisitor or for this FAE? Edin felt a bit unsteady. He turned toward the picture, saw the chest, felt redness growing, and then quickly headed back to the medical bay.
2
At Sea, At Peace
The door squealed open and he found Arianne staring up at him. In a moment, he knew she’d be smelling the booze and hoped she didn’t care.
“It’s been nearly an hour. Where have you been?”
“Sorry,” Edin said, holding up his hands. “I spoke with Flack.”
Arianne laid her head down and twisted to her side inviting him to lie facing her.
“And Le Fie.”
This perked her up a bit, “he’s here?”
Edin forgot, she never actually met him nor knew she’d been near death and he healed her. Edin hadn’t told her that and also that he’d been taking care of them. He wondered if all this was a ploy to get information for his spy masters.
“He’s the one who was here before, he healed you.”
“Oh.”
“He wanted to talk with me… I think he saw me using my… other talents.”
“Which ones?”
“All of them...”
Arianne swallowed, she looked almost sad for a moment and looked back up at him. “What happened… I remember being shot… the bolt in my shoulder… then nothing.”
“I killed them,” Edin said quietly. The look in some of the guards’ eyes… their fear. Edin hadn’t just killed them. He slaughtered them… then there was Foristol. An old man, well past his prime. Why did he attack? It was stupid, he’d just seen what Edin could do but he still came at him… and died.
Edin could see the look on his face as the sword gutted him. Edin felt the pang of sadness rolling through him like a fog down a still mountain.
A hand rested on his and he felt a squeeze. He looked toward Arianne, she offered a soft, warm smile.
“They’re not the same as us. We’re better, stronger. We have the talent and morals. These mundanes… they’re brainwashed by lies. They have hunted our kind, murdered my family and yours. How many other families have been torn apart because of the church’s lies? You saved me. Would you rather I be dead?”
“Of course not,” Edin said. He thought about Grent and Horston and Dephina… mundanes that he was supposedly better than.
“Then do not think on it anymore.” She said interrupting his thoughts. “You’re a warrior, my warrior, and we will save the world from these monsters.”
Edin held her gaze and could see the certainty in her. But it was her declaration that made him search. “Save it?”
“I’ve been thinking… for a while now. We have to reclaim our place… now we’re not alone, when we get to the isle…”
“You want to fight Bestoria?” Edin said almost uncomprehending. “A war between magi and mundane…”
“For our people to be safe… it is for the good of all of us.” She reached her good hand up and rested it on his cheek and rubbed his short stubble. “Do you wish us to always be hunted? Do you wish to never return to your homeland?”
Edin was quiet for a bit. Then he said, “my home is gone… I’ve killed people… seen friends killed, family killed. I think what I want is peace…” he looked up at her. “With someone I care about.”
She moved her fingers to his lips. “I want that too, peace, hope… a future. But what future is there in this world? It just takes or destroys everything that is good an
d kind. My father was a gentle ruler, he didn’t hunt people down like beasts.”
“But war, it’ll be…”
“There’s already a war Edin,” Arianne said, her words still soft. “Don’t you see, they are already preparing. The draft, the ships. When I was searching the undercity, I heard about an increase in arms manufacturing outside Frestils. I know a war is coming Edin, and know, we won’t be on our own.”
“A war with Resholt maybe…”
“Maybe but still it is not safe for our kind and there can be no future… for either of us.” She pulled his face to hers and gently kissed his lips.
He knew what she was really saying and it hurt. For all that they’d been through together, their escape meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.
“Good, come lay next to me, you bring me warmth like the whiskey brings to you.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she said and he laid before her. Arianne dug her head into his chest and wrapped her arms around his back.
His nightmare was normal. Or what he assumed was normal for a man who’d done the terrible things he had. He saw faces, dark and gory. Blood pouring from their mouths as they crawled up to the living world with blood dripping from their fangs.
They had fangs? Men didn’t have fangs… but he saw the faces just as clearly as when they were alive. Some he remembered, the men from Mathurn, the leader of the sellswords, the justicar… Foristol.
The old man leapt at him again and Edin could do nothing as his body moved to cut him down. Blood poured from the slash and from the man’s teeth. The white fangs dripping with blood like some sort of demon. Edin cried out as the light left the man’s eyes. Was it fear or sadness?
Who am I? The thought crossed through his dreaming brain. Looking down he found blood covering his hands. His gaze turned outward, to the burning buildings, the screams and the piles of bodies. Limbs were separated, insides bulging out like overstuffed sacks of meat. The blood-covered armor and horribly stained blades littered the dusty ground. All around, dead eyes stared into the firelit sky.
Where was Arianne? The thought hit him like a hammer blow to the head. Edin dropped to his knees and started pulling up the corpses. He flipped a body over, then another. Sweat poured down, partially blinding him. He continued feeling the heat from the fire on his arms and back.
Then he spied a soft ivory hand. It was beneath a large body, a man he didn’t know. Edin gritted his teeth trying to lift the man but it was as if the earth was holding him down. He pulled harder, using his legs that burned.
“Arianne!”
She didn’t respond. He lifted more, he had to do it.
A burst of energy flowed through, running up his torso and through his arms. Edin pulled, screaming as he did and it flew up like a door being kicked open. A moment later, he tumbled back with the body sliding free from whatever held it.
Edin was back on his feet and scrambled forward. Below was Arianne’s crushed body. Her chest was caved in, tears of blood ran from her thin lips. Her eyes stared blankly at the sky, at the wicked gods.
Edin screamed, howling like a woeful dire wolf. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the dead rising.
He woke, feeling sweat and fear. His eyes shot open and he saw her blond hair inches in front of him. Her chest rose and fell with the swaying ship and he heard the soft exhalations of a peaceful sleep.
A thin layer of cold sweat was coating his forehead. His chest pounded and he felt as if the walls were close. Far too close.
Edin shut his eyes and took in a deep gasp of air. He pictured the dream and the way her body had looked. Crushed and destroyed.
“No,” he whispered trying to picture something else, the forest, the sea, this place…a small and dank cabin where it was just them. The pungent odor, the creaking wood, and lapping waves. It took but a moment, the pace of his heart subsided and returned to normal.
The ship was rocking much softer now. Edin heard murmuring voices outside. He slipped out of her grasp, stood and slipped on his tunic and boots and crept toward the door.
Beyond it, the ship was quiet and through a port hole, he saw it was night. He moved down the hall trying to tiptoe on the loud floor. The planks had other ideas, screaming at every other step in a coordinated plan to give away his movements. Odd, he’d never heard Le Fie coming to the door. The man just appeared.
He reached the mess and found hammocks hanging from the ceilings and support beams. Snoring men stuttered the room like drunkards.
Edin climbed the wide-step ladder and opened the hatch.
Fresh air and a cool breeze met him and attacked his sweat ridden skin. Edin shivered.
A lantern hung from a mast high above him like a tiny sun. Another sat at the helm with a third at the bow. He strode to the railing and peered at the black water.
It seemed so different from their last sea voyage. They were surrounded by sailors… and whatever Le Fie was, and they knew how to get to the promised Isle of Mists.
If Arianne was healthy, which she should be soon, it could’ve been a pleasure cruise.
Edin splayed his hands on the railing and ran his fingers over the damp wood. A splash of sea spray leapt up and caught him in his open mouth. Edin spat out the salty water.
“Nice night.” A deep accented voice came from behind him.
Edin looked over at a dark-skinned man, Ashica, he assumed. The captain rested a huge pair of forearms on the railing next to him.
“Peaceful,” Edin said.
“I like it at night,” the man said. A pair of light scars ran perfectly parallel down his left forearm. He offered a pleasant smile and looked back over the ocean.
For some reason, he didn’t strike Edin as a smuggler. The man seemed more like a merchant, which was what Edin assumed he told port authorities.
“It’s open seas, no storms in the near future.”
“How can you tell?”
“It gets to be like another sense.” He sighed, “as honest and trustworthy as seeing or hearing.”
They stayed quiet for a while, listing to the hull chop through the sea and the flapping of the sails in the wind. It felt like they were gliding across the sea at a great speed, though Edin had no way to be sure.
“Are you a magus too?” Edin asked.
“Nope,” he shook his head. “I never did have the talent.”
“But you’re not afraid of us.” Edin paused and looked at him. “Why then…”
“Do I let abominations on my ship? Why do I facilitate trade between the isle and the mainland?” He chuckled slightly. “Money of course and I don’t have to hurt nobody. Business is always best when you have a monopoly or an oligopoly as it were. I’m a businessman. Since I grew up, I always wanted to make more money, have more things.”
“That’s it? It’s all about money?”
“That’s it. Have a grand estate down in the southern isles. One day I’ll retire there with Yassima.”
“Is she your wife?”
He laughed, a low snorting laugh. “Yassima would never marry… she loves her freedom too much… and our boy. But maybe one day…” Ashica paused.
It clicked in his head like a puzzle piece being snapped down. “Yassima is the Raven?”
“You didn’t know?” He said, “thought you did, doesn’t matter, real name or fake name, she’ll never get caught. Except by me…”
He shot a toothy grin at Edin. It was dark but he looked to have an almost full set of them, some though could’ve been rotten.
Edin leaned back, gripping the railing and letting his arms stretch. He felt unsure what to say. They were guests and the captain was nice enough to offer the only other private room to Arianne.
“What’s the place like?” Edin said trying to change the subject. “The Isle of Mists…”
Ashica frowned. “Like any other city, a gentry, merchants and artisans. I don’t go much into the city, stay at the docks mostly.”
“Why?” Edin said s
weeping his gaze toward Ashica.
“It’s where my business is.” He paused. “Le Fie would be better to describe the ins and outs of the place. Was born there, one of the few who leaves and actually returns.”
“People leave?”
“Some, mundanes usually, they have the talent in their blood. Nearly everyone on the isle has the talent in their blood. Just not everyone’s talent manifests.”
Ashica pulled a metal flask out and took a drink then offered it to Edin. A quick sniff told him it was more whiskey, maybe the same stuff the cook had.
“Thank you,” Edin said after a sip. “For everything… I’m not sure how I’ll ever repay you.”
“Not necessary,” Ashica said waiving another dismissive hand over the side of the ship. “It’s what I do.”
“I know but if you weren’t there, we’d be stuck in that city.”
“You did a good job...” He paused as if not wanting to admit to the attack. “From what I saw, the navy will be crippled for a while at least. That’s good for me.”
“Where’s the Ra… Yassima? I haven’t seen her.”
He sighed. “Stayed in Carrow… said she wants to be of use. I told her, you can’t be of any use if you’re dead. The city is gonna be in an upheaval for a long time.”
“Use for what?”
“That I’m not sure of. Le Fie knows.” He shrugged, took the flask back from Edin. “I gotta get back to the deck, Flack can only be trusted for so long at the helm.”
Edin glanced up and saw the young man standing behind the wheel with arm-length handles extending from it.
“The reason I’m out here is I was hoping you could look after him a bit? When you get to the isle… The kid is ambitious and smart… but he’s also trouble. Too much like his mother.”
“If I can…”
“It’s good to see you on deck. You’ve been cooped up with your girl for far too long. We got some time before we get there. Better enjoy the freedom while you can. There ain’t much of it on Delrot.”