Iron Tide Rising

by Carrie Ryan

  “You’re right,” she whispered. “We have to save the Stream.” She swallowed, her throat thick with tears. “You have to use the Evershear.”

  Lightning careened around them, crashing against the iron mirrors, causing the hair along her arms to rise. Fin spun. They stood shoulder to shoulder as the Master finally reached the end of the tunnel. He stepped slowly into the room and stood, feet planted wide, arms crossed over his chest. As though he had all the time in the world.

  Perhaps he did.

  Marrill’s heart pounded, her entire body trembling. Fin glanced her way. Slowly, he drew the Evershear. She could see the regret in his eyes. The pain of what he had to do.

  But the Dawn Wizard hadn’t given them much of a choice. He’d told Marrill that if she couldn’t save Ardent, she should not hesitate to strike him down. And whatever tricks he may have played about the mirrors, she knew he had been deadly serious about that. She clenched her teeth.

  “It’s the only way to save the Stream,” she murmured.

  Fin nodded. Then he stepped forward to face the Master.

  Marrill didn’t want to watch. Couldn’t. But she’d stood by Fin’s side through everything else, and she refused to abandon him now. She gripped the shard by her side, holding it so tight that the sharp edges bit into her palm.

  Her emotions roiled inside her like a wild storm, tossing her heart like a ship lost at sea. She thought about the Dawn Wizard, angry at him for giving her hope. For making her believe. How he must have laughed as he’d sat there, his whiskers twitching, telling her lies about how to save Ardent.

  Cut through the metal and reach the man, he’d said. A bit literal for my tastes, but it should do the trick.

  He’d been a trickster from the beginning until the very end. Always playing games and twisting words.

  Marrill’s heart skittered. She sucked in a breath, her stomach plummeting as though the floor had given way beneath her.

  A bit literal for my tastes.

  The room seemed to tilt as the pieces locked together. They’d been wrong. The Dawn Wizard had told them how to save Ardent. They’d just misinterpreted it.

  They needed to reach the man underneath the metal. But not with the Evershear. Not in a physical sense. They needed to reach Ardent, the wizard they’d loved. The one who’d loved them. Who liked to tell meandering stories and recite esoteric facts. The one who continually tripped over his robe and tugged on his beard when he was lost in thought.

  He was still in there. He was a part of the Master.

  That was why Annalessa had become Rose, knowing it would drive Ardent to become the Master. Because she’d known the Prophecy would come true. She’d known the Lost Sun would destroy the Pirate Stream. But if there was a part of Ardent mixed up with it, then… there just might be a way to bring the Stream back.

  All they had to do was reach the man beneath the iron. The one man who could reduce the world to a single possibility, then turn it back into everything all over again.

  Fin stood in the center of the room, the blade clutched in his hands. He began to lift it as red lightning vibrated along the Master’s fingertips.

  “Wait!” Marrill cried. Fin’s shoulders tightened as he held the blade high. He could have ignored her. He could have stepped forward and swung the Evershear against the Master, but he didn’t. Instead he hesitated.

  “I know how to save him.” She laid her fingers on his arm, her touch light as a feather. “It’s the Master’s heart that’s coated in iron, Fin. I can see it now. That’s what we have to reach. Not the flesh—the real person. Ardent.”

  He still seemed uncertain. “Are you… sure?”

  She nodded. “If all possibilities exist, then we have to believe in the possibility we can save him.”

  Slowly he lowered the blade. “Okay.” That’s all he said. All he needed to say.

  He trusted her. Believed in her. The same way she believed in Ardent.

  Drawing a deep breath, she turned to the Master. Lightning cracked from his fingertips and spread across the iron mirrors surrounding them.

  She refused to be afraid. Refused to back down. She took a step toward the enemy, her hand trembling as she extended the shard containing the one thing she’d wanted more than anything else. Fin joined her, standing with his shoulder against hers, lending his support.

  The Master stared down at them, the room glowing red, bristling with energy and power.

  He could end it now, touch them both and turn them to iron. He could take the shard and destroy it, turn the one remaining possibility to certainty. Add it to the infinite web of iron surrounding them.

  The Master stared at them, cold blue eyes flashing. Ready to strike.

  “This is your possibility,” Marrill told him. “You can make it anything, or you can turn it to iron and throw it away. No matter what you do, we love you, Ardent.”

  Fin grabbed her free hand and squeezed.

  The Master reached for the shard. She turned it so that it would reflect his own image back at him. His fingers hesitated, millimeters away. And then the sharp tip of his gauntlet clicked against the hard surface of the mirror.

  CHAPTER 24

  Headwaters

  Fin braced himself as the Master’s finger brushed against the mirror shard. This was it—the real last possibility. If it turned to iron, the Pirate Stream would be lost forever. They would be lost forever. His heart hammered in his chest. Beside him Marrill trembled. He squeezed her hand tighter.

  At least if this was the end, they were facing it together.

  Fin prepared himself for the cold embrace of iron.

  But it wasn’t metal that engulfed them. Instead, the mirror began to glow. Softly at first, then brighter.

  Marrill gasped, dropping the shard. She stumbled back, dragging Fin with her. The mirror struck the ground in a shower of golden sparks. They illuminated the room, beating back the darkness, banishing the red streaks of lightning.

  Fin clutched Marrill as the gold from the shard spread, expanding across the ground to the surrounding mirrors. It washed across them like a tide.

  Not a tide of iron. A tide of light. Of possibility.

  In its wake, the iron mirrors softened. The dull gray gained color, growing vibrant. As he watched, the frozen Naysayer bloomed purple. He rose from his bow, clapping, as though applauding Marrill and Fin.

  “It’s… amazing,” Marrill whispered, her eyes open wide as she craned her neck, taking it all in.

  Around them possibilities burst to life. With color. With sound. With light and energy.

  Fin returned his focus to the Master, keeping the Evershear at his side, still gripped in his hand. Just in case.

  The metal-clad figure began to glow as the golden tide overtook him. Brighter and brighter, until Fin and Marrill were almost forced to look away. The Master held a hand aloft. His armor seemed to melt, to flow off him, coalescing into an orb cradled in his outstretched palm.

  By then, the new tide had gained momentum. It struck against the mouth of the mirrored tunnel, rippling into the darkness, turning it bright with possibility.

  Still the Master stood there, shining like a star as the world burst to life around him.

  The iron swirled toward the orb in his hand, uncovering the purple robe, the wrinkled skin. Even the helmet receded, revealing a long purple cap beneath. In a moment, only the metal face mask remained. In one smooth motion, he pulled it away.

  It was Ardent. At least it looked like Ardent. He wore the familiar purple robes, his beard a riot of white across his chest. Fin couldn’t be sure until the wizard smiled, eyes now full of warmth instead of cold, a smile twisting his lips.

  “Ardent,” Marrill breathed. She raced toward him, throwing her arms around his waist. He wrapped his free arm around her, his other hand still clutching the molten orb of iron that had once been his armor.

  Fin still held back a moment. Ardent looked at him. Straight at him. Fin stepped back, stunned. Ardent had never n
oticed him, never remembered him before.

  The wizard’s eyes dropped to the Evershear still gripped in Fin’s hand. He had no idea how much Ardent would remember from his time as the Master, but he seemed to understand how close Fin had come to using the blade against him.

  “Thank you,” Ardent said. And then his forehead furrowed a bit, and he tilted his head to the side. “Fin, isn’t it?”

  A lump formed in Fin’s throat. “You… remember me?”

  The wizard smiled, a soft, gentle smile. “Oh, my boy,” he said. “If I’d had a choice, I would never have forgotten you in the first place.”

  Fin dropped the blade, warmth flooding over him as he threw himself at the wizard, joining Marrill in the group hug.

  A moment later Marrill pulled back. “What happened?” she asked. “What was all of that?”

  The wizard glanced around the chamber, at the endless sea of glowing possibilities. “That was the Pirate Stream being born anew,” he told her. “And this.” He held aloft the molten orb. Where before it had appeared solid metal, now cracks of light had begun to show. “This is the Lost Sun. It is contained now, momentarily. But that won’t last. We should probably lock it away before it can cause any more trouble.”

  Fin frowned. “How?”

  Ardent’s eyebrows danced. “We leave it where we found it: here, in the Mirrorweb, imprisoned in the Pirate Stream.” He knelt and placed the orb gently on the floor. “It will come back again, of course,” he said. “In some form, in some way. Just like it did after the Dzane first locked it here. It always will, you know. The Lost Sun and the Pirate Stream are two forces forever in balance—it can never truly be defeated.”

  He stood, staring down at it. “But,” he said, “based on how long it took for it to get out this time… I daresay we shall all be long gone before it bothers the Stream again.”

  And then he kicked it. Hard, sending it ricocheting around the room. “Never did like it much,” he murmured. Then he tossed aside the hem of his robe and started toward the tunnel entrance.

  At a wave of his hand, the maw of the tunnel began to widen. The light of the web beyond grew brighter, larger. Every mirror a new dawn ready to break. A fresh story waiting to be written.

  And then the tunnel entrance was nothing but light. Ardent reached into it and grabbed something Fin couldn’t see. He heaved against it. There was a loud creaking sound and a heavy door swung inward.

  Just beyond, Fin could see the deck of the Kraken.

  “It’s the Gate!” Fin realized.

  Ardent nodded. “Indeed,” he said. “And hopefully this will be the very last time we or anyone we know ever uses it.” He offered his arms to Fin and Marrill. “Come,” he said. “The Pirate Stream awaits.”

  Fin and Marrill exchanged a laugh and they leapt forward, threading their arms through Ardent’s. Together they strode toward the light.

  Just before they crossed the threshold, however, there was a loud caw. Ardent froze, his back going straight. Slowly he dropped their arms and turned back to the chamber. Rose lifted from her perch on the Naysayer’s mirror and wheeled overhead, banking and soaring.

  Fin held his breath, waiting to see what Ardent would do. If the reminder of Annalessa would be too much.

  A smile touched the wizard’s lips. His eyes glistened. He held out a hand. “Let’s go, old friend,” he said. The scribbled bird took one last turn around the Mirrorweb, and then, with a flutter of wings, she settled on Ardent’s shoulder.

  Once more Ardent offered them his arms. Together, they strode through the Bintheyr Map to Everywhere, and into a world full of possibility.

  CHAPTER 25

  The Last Port

  Marrill leaned out over the railing, the breeze brushing her hair from her face. Overhead, the sails popped and sang with wind. Below, the hull of the Kraken cut her way through the golden water, throwing sprays of whispering magic into the air.

  It was a beautiful day on the Pirate Stream. The water was wide open and perfect before them. Alive again, fresh and new.

  Reborn.

  And Marrill was about to leave it all behind.

  Tears stung her eyes. She closed them, trying to memorize this moment so she could carry it with her. The chittering of pirats as they scampered through the rigging, the squeal of the Robebone Man hauling lines through the tackle. The sun sending golden reflections to dance against her eyelids, wrapping her in warmth. The smell of possibility and the hum of raw potential tingling her skin.

  Behind her, Remy called a command, her voice carrying across this ship. The deck swayed under Marrill’s feet as the Kraken changed course. She leaned into the movement without thinking, her knees soft, her body naturally attuned to the sway and tilt of the ship.

  On the main deck, the tip of Ardent’s cap snapped in the wind. He leaned over a giant tome spread open on the table before him, tapping a page as he passionately argued the finer points of some obscure magical theory with Serth. Serth mumbled something under his breath, and Ardent tilted his head back, laughing. Serth’s lips twisted, a chuckle escaping him as well.

  At the stern, the rumor vines echoed a twining symphony of ornery grunts and contented purrs as the Naysayer tended his prollycrab traps with Karny perched on a shoulder.

  And beside her: Fin. His arm brushed hers as the Kraken slipped between waves. She could feel the warmth and steadiness of him. Could hear the slight hitch in his breathing and knew he was thinking the same thing she was.

  This was good-bye. Again.

  “Will you come back?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” It was an honest answer. And a better one than the last time she’d left the Stream, when she’d felt certain she’d never return. Only now, she had no idea what she was going home to. What her disappearance might have done to her mother’s health.

  “I want to, but…” She sighed, the thought trailing off. She didn’t know how to explain that she would spend the rest of her life on the Stream if she could. That a part of her wanted to tell Remy to turn the ship around and set a course for anywhere but home.

  But she would only be running away. And she knew now that running wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t fix her mom. Nothing would. It was time for Marrill to face that.

  And once she went home… well, now she knew better than to think never when it came to the Stream. But coming back was unlikely, to say the least. After all, it was the Master of the Iron Ship who’d created the storm surge that had brought her to the Stream to begin with. And it was the Master of the Iron Ship who’d started the Syphon of Monerva and brought her back, when that should have been impossible. With him gone, not only were there no more Master-induced storms—there was no one left spinning evil plots behind the scenes to bend the forces of creation.

  Fin didn’t ask her to finish the statement. He understood without her having to explain.

  After a moment, he lifted his eyes to hers. “Are you scared?”

  She bit her lip. More tears burned their way up her throat. She nodded. “I really thought I could save her,” Marrill said, her voice cracking.

  Fin shifted his hand over hers on the railing, his fingers slipping into place between hers. “I’m sorry, Marrill.”

  She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the fear. “What if I’ve made everything worse?”

  He pulled her into a hug. “You’re going to be okay, Marrill. Whatever happens.” He held her a while longer before pulling back, his hands still on her shoulders. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “And leave the Pirate Stream?”

  He shrugged like it was no big deal. “You’re my best friend.”

  “But you might never be able to come back!”

  He laughed. “I just said, ‘You’re my best friend.’ What more do you need?”

  He said it so simply that she couldn’t help but laugh. But she would never ask him to leave. Nor did she want him to. The Pirate Stream was his home. It was where
he belonged.

  She squeezed Fin’s arm. “You’re my best friend, too, you know. Which is why there’s no way I would want you to leave this awesome place.” She looked off toward the horizon, watching for her world to appear soon. “Besides, you faced losing your mom. It’s time for me to face the possibility that I might lose mine.”

  “Yeah, but I had a friend by my side to help me get through it. You’re having to face it completely alone.”

  She smiled at him. “No,” she said. “I’m not.” He frowned in confusion. “You may not be with me in person, Fin. But you’ll still be with me—in my heart.”

  His grin turned wobbly. She leaned her shoulder into his. Growing up, it had always just been her and her parents. She’d never stayed in any one place long enough to make friends, so saying good-bye and moving on had never been a problem.

  Now, though, the thought of leaving Fin and the rest of the crew behind caused a hole to open in her heart. One she wasn’t certain she’d ever be able to fill.

  Especially since the one person who should have been coming with her wasn’t. “The Kraken needs a captain,” Remy had said. Her smile had been genuine, but a hint of sadness dusted the edges of her eyes.

  The reality, of course, was that Remy couldn’t go home. Not with the Sheshefesh tattoo. Staying in one place too long would be deadly. She was now cursed to a life of wandering, same as Coll had been.

  A wave of guilt had hit Marrill at the announcement. After all, it was her fault Remy was even on the Stream in the first place. “Maybe I should stay and help you find a way to break the curse,” Marrill had suggested.

  “No way. Northern Arizona’s best babysitter is getting you home,” Remy had told her, fluffing her hair. She’d then turned, eyes on the horizon, and added softly, “Besides, I have some loose ends that need tying up.”

  Marrill hadn’t asked more. She’d known from Remy’s expression that the older girl wasn’t likely to elaborate.

  Marrill cleared her throat, forcing her thoughts back to the present. “So, what’s next for you?” she asked Fin.