Braid of Sand

by Alicia Gaile

  If any of them needed a clearer sign the plants had been sent by Naiara, that was it. Castien hung back. He blinked bleary eyes still red from the smoke.

  “Are you okay?” Raziela came up beside him and put her hand on his elbow.

  “I’m fine.” He pulled away, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I just need a quick dip in the ocean. Gather whatever you think you’ll need and be ready to leave within the hour.”

  32.

  The others hugged the sides of the boat as Barak steered them across the harbor. Raziela stood at the prow with her eyes closed. The dead fish smell still turned her stomach, but she’d grown accustomed enough that it didn’t wring tears from her anymore. If she held her breath, the mist on her skin and the breeze in her face took her back to the days when she was a little girl watching the cargo ships bring in new cattle for her father.

  A shadow fell over her and she looked over her shoulder to see Castien studying the approaching cliffs.

  “This is your first real mission, isn’t it? Nervous?” He leaned forward to speak into her ear so she’d hear him over the air whooshing past. Unlike Barak and Osee, he hadn’t shaved before they left the island. The coarse bristles tickled her cheek, until she shied away.

  “I’m the lookout. What’s there to be nervous about?”

  His smile gleamed down at her.

  “Since you can’t strangle anyone with your hair, I just thought you might be feeling a little vulnerable.”

  The corner of her mouth curled.

  Barak slowed the boat as they pulled into a cove. Without the roar of the motor their conversation no longer felt private.

  Her smile faded as she looked around.

  “We’re near my father’s ranch, aren’t we?”

  Castien nodded and pointed off to the right.

  “If you take that trail you’d see the southern side of your parents’ house.”

  “But the Academy is that way?” She pointed to the left and he nodded again. “Good.” The longer she could go without facing that part of her past, the better. Castien rapped his knuckles on the side of the boat, jolting everyone to attention.

  “You know your roles. Osee, Barak, if we’re not back in three hours go back to the island without us.”

  Though they didn’t look happy about it, they nodded. Castien, Raziela, Thamar, and Armelle hopped onto the rotting pier and took off at a brisk clip up the steep slope of the ravine. Raziela kept pace with them easily, but she envied the silent way they moved. It helped that Thamar and Armelle didn’t have long, flowing skirts that rustled over the ground as they moved. Daughters of Light had always worn floor-length robes. In the Great Mother’s Garden, the dryads wove finer silks than any the priestesses of Phalyra ever wore. They adjusted their designs to make training in long skirts easier, but no amount of strategic slits and hidden pockets could compare to the practicality of the female mercenaries’ skin-tight clothing.

  From the top of the hill she could see most of Sestrand stretched out before them. Straight ahead, a little more than a mile off, was an ugly black building with thin, spiky towers and surrounded on all sides by a tall stone walls. The King’s Academy, where the nobles sent their children to become soldiers for the crown. According to the others, it was open to anyone now, but the brutality required to rise through the ranks still endured.

  “You graduated from the Academy?” She stayed a step behind Thamar as they darted across the rolling field of tufted grasses and spindly trees.

  “With honors.” Thamar beamed. “Barak would have too if he hadn’t met Osee and fallen nose over toes during our final year. He dropped out to join up with him and Cas with only six months left before graduation.”

  “Is it as horrible as the stories say?”

  Some of the light went out of Thamar’s face, which was all the answer Raziela needed.

  Though the Academy was known for its rigorous training measures that transformed children into warriors, the students also attended daily lessons. It was the reason they were trying to sneak in during the day when everyone was distracted by the usual goings on rather than wait for night. There would be less foot traffic in the halls after hours, but anyone they encountered would be more alert.

  Two sentries stood atop the tower on the left side of the archway leading into the main courtyard. Students punished for minor transgressions with standing at attention in absolute silence under the baking sun for hours on end. They were too glassy-eyed by boredom and discomfort to pay any real attention to what was going on around them.

  Armelle withdrew a sling from one of the pouches on her belt. She broke cover for a fraction of a second to take careful aim before lobbing a stone into the arm of the female in the nearest tower. The girl jumped with a loud yelp. Her companion shushed her.

  “Quiet! You’re going to get us in trouble!”

  “Don’t tell me to be quiet. You’re the one who hit me!” She hissed back, rubbing the arm that draped between them.

  ‘What are you talking about? I didn’t hit you.”

  “I’ve got the bruise to prove it.”

  “What’s going on out here?” A severe-looking woman with beads braided into her shoulder-length hair stepped out onto the ramparts with her fists on her hips. Raziela and the others sneaked through the opening while the sentries were busy accusing each other.

  The walls shuddered as a deep clang rang out from one of the higher turrets. Thamar grimaced.

  “There’s the bell. In two minutes, the halls should be completely cleared. You only have fifty minutes before the next bell.”

  Although Castien was the one actually sneaking into the weapons room, it was Raziela whom Thamar addressed. She was supposed to stand watch outside the Commander’s office two doors down. Thamar would get the keys to the armory from the arms master, and Armelle was to stay back to provide a distraction if they needed to make a quick escape.

  “I’ll be right back,” Thamar whispered, glancing around the corner before darting away up the hall. Armelle gave a two-fingered salute before climbing out the nearest window to scale the outer wall. That left Raziela and Castien lurking beneath the curved staircase across from the Commander’s office.

  “I thought it’d be scarier,” Raziela admitted. Having heard stories of the Academy whispered in the same grim tones as tales of the Shadow Realm, she’d been expecting chains, spikes, and torture devices to decorate the halls, not neatly framed certificates of past students’ achievements.

  The mahogany walls gave her the impression of a stately library. There were trophies, ribbons, statues and busts of former students and their family emblems kept in glass display cases—everything she expected to find in a military school.

  “It’s not the building that has the reputation.” Castien’s voice rippled with history.

  “Weren’t you a star pupil here as well?”

  His hand balled into a fist.

  “Who told you that?”

  “Thamar.”

  “She talks too much, but yes. Before the raid on the Temple, I was a student here. After...they were afraid they couldn’t guarantee the students’ safety with me here.”

  “You were that violent?”

  Keys jangled from somewhere up the hall. With one step, Castien dissolved into the shadows beneath the staircase. Raziela flattened her back to the wall beside him and shivered at the chill that radiated from him.

  “I’ll admit it’s an impressive collection, but as promised, your lordship may have first pick.”

  “Thank you, Commander. Many of these came from my family’s private collection. It’s fitting they should be returned when I stand to restore Phalyra to her former glory tomorrow.” The unmistakable arrogance of Kephas’ voice preceded him around the corner. Raziela tightened her grip on her dagger and her eyes narrowed to slits. Walking beside Kephas was a short man with gaunt angular features and crisp, close-cropped silver hair. His short legs moved at a double pace to keep up with Kephas’ long, lanky str
ide. From the number of medals pinned to his breast he could only be the Commander.

  If the Commander was here, where was Thamar?

  The two men stepped through the door. They blocked her view inside, but they both paused to look around.

  “I’m sure you have other matters to see to. I’ll be sure to lock up when I’m finished.” Kephas held his hand out for the keys without so much as looking at the Commander.

  The Commander hesitated but gave the keys over without protest. He turned on his heel and strode down the hall to his office. He was her target, but Kephas was alone. Now was the moment to get her revenge!

  “One step at a time,” Castien murmured at her back. “The King still knows about Vitales and he’ll send men whether you stop Kephas or not.”

  She spun away so fast the ends of her trailing sleeves snapped.

  “Hurry. I don’t want to be near him any longer than I have to.”

  KEPHAS STOOD INSIDE the doorway scowling at the assorted firearms and blades. He lifted a gold dagger with a pommel made of mother of pearl and smirked before sticking it into his belt.

  As tempting as it was to let him know the strike was coming, Castien drifted across the room like smoke.

  It gave him time to aim a right hook to the base of his brother’s skull, time to consider whether to make it a killing blow or not. His fist flew straight and sure as a bullet. Kephas stiffened and toppled shoulder-first into the floor.

  There’d be time to relish the moment later. Castien stepped over the prone figure to reclaim what his father’s soldiers had stolen. There was too much to carry, even with Armelle, Raziela, and Thamar they couldn’t take it all with just one trip. He needed to make his selections count. He went for the knives first. Guns were useless without ammunition, and he wasn’t surprised to discover all his bullets missing from the inventory.

  A scuffling sound whispered from the doorway as he leaned over to strap a hunting knife above his ankle. Kephas had recovered faster than expected. He unsheathed the hunting knife just as his brother pushed to all fours, but before he could silence him, Raziela materialized in the doorway and drove her fist into the swollen lump at the base of Kephas’ skull.

  His eyes rolled back and he lay still once more. She stood over him with her fists clenched a long moment before twisting back to watch the Commander’s door.

  “Catch.” Castien tossed a saber to her. She caught the sheath in one hand before gliding back to her post with a ripple of her long, silk skirts. A second later, Thamar skidded into the doorway.

  “Sorry! The Commander wasn’t where I thought he’d be. Is that all you’ve grabbed? What are you doing in here? We have to go!”

  Doubling his pace, he passed more weapons to Thamar. When he was sure there was nothing more he could grab, he took the key from Kephas’ pocket and locked his brother inside.

  There were only ten minutes before the bell released the students to their next class. All three of them were trying to hold their scabbards, holsters, and sheaths steady to keep from rattling as they sped back through the halls.

  “Wait!” Raziela’s voice was a whip of sound, making both Castien and Thamar stagger to a halt. “We need those!” She pressed her nose to a glass display case filled with clay representations of Naiara.

  “We don’t have time.” Thamar shook her head, checking to make sure no one was coming. Raziela dropped her weapons and shattered the glass with the heel of her saber. Thamar turned to Castien in disbelief, but he just shrugged and bent down to pick up Raziela’s blades so she could fill her arms with the small statues.

  A shadow moved across the window before Armelle swung into the corridor.

  “Why’d you guys stop?”

  “She got distracted by these art projects,” Thamar complained. Raziela huffed.

  “The more eyes and ears opened to the Goddess, the more likely the Great Mother will hear what we have to say.” Armelle’s jaw clenched as she summoned her patience.

  “Fine, Priestess, but you’d better be right about this.”

  OSEE AND BARAK WERE waiting in the little cove. Barak paced the length of the craft while Osee took a nap stretched out on the deck with his hands behind his head.

  “Nice of you to show up. You’re fifteen minutes late!” Barak scowled at Thamar as if it was somehow her fault.

  “We weren’t expecting to run into Kephas,” said Raziela with a cheerful smile. “But considering the call over the intercom for findolaprin we heard as we cleared the front gate, I’d say he’s waking up to a headache as bad as the one Castien had a few days ago.”

  Barak paled.

  “Kephas was there? Did he see you?”

  “Just me,” said Castien in a tight voice as he untied their boat from the wooden post. “I didn’t expect him to recover so fast. If she hadn’t hit him again, he’d have brought the whole Academy down on our heads.”

  “Starting a collection?” Osee sat up rubbing his eyes to watch Raziela arrange the idols she and Armelle had collected in a straight line. She shook her head.

  “The Great Mother’s Garden was once filled with the prayers and wishes of the devote. Lately the Garden has been silent, but with these we can fill it with voices again.”

  33.

  “By the Gods!”

  Barak’s hand slipped off the rudder when the island came in sight. They bounced and swayed on the high waves, but no one seemed to notice. Their eyes were all on the tall, sagging trees standing guard around the cave.

  “It’s not possible,” Armelle breathed, covering her mouth.

  “I can’t believe it,” Osee agreed, moving to her side. Raziela lifted her chin.

  “That’s probably why you’ve never seen a miracle before.”

  Barak cranked the engine again and quickly maneuvered them close to shore. As soon as they were close enough, he dropped anchor and they all leapt overboard. The trees were even taller than they’d seemed from the sea. Green and red fruit were buried among the leaves like treasure. Mangos.

  Thamar burst into tears. Even Osee’s eyes glistened. Armelle and Barak sank to their knees and bowed their heads while Raziela beamed. But where was Castien?

  After a quick glance around, she spotted him down by the water scuffing his boots on the shore.

  Murmuring a prayer of thanks, Raziela grabbed a mango from the tree and dug her nail into the green and red skin. She peeled back a corner to unveil the glistening orange fruit. She worked on it diligently as she wandered down to him. The syrupy sweet smell rose up and took a large bite before she could help herself. Orange juice dribbled down her chin.

  “The Great Mother performed another marvel,” she said, holding the fruit out to him. He didn’t turn but continued squinting at the horizon. She cocked her head.

  “Are you worried about your brother?”

  “No.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Honestly, I haven’t given him much thought. I’ve been wanting to crack him over the head like that for as long as I can remember.”

  She continued to hold the fruit out to him even though the juices were dripping down her arm. His nostrils flared as a breeze wafted the scent to him. He turned and his eyes dropped to the mango. All color left his face.

  “When you said a marvel I didn’t realize you meant this!” He lifted his gaze to hers, but something was off. His eyes remained vacant, not quite focusing on her face. It was as if his mind was somewhere else and he was going through the motions of the conversation.

  “Would you like it? There’s plenty more.” She offered it to him, realizing too late that he might consider the large bite she’d taken from it unappetizing. He dropped his gaze to the teeth marks she’d left behind and a strange expression passed over his face, self-loathing steeped in irony. It was a look she didn’t understand.

  “Mangoes used to be my favorite,” he said sadly. With a small bow, he accepted the fruit and raised it to his lips. He turned back to the ocean, and instead of the blissful expression the others ha
d shown when they tasted it, he may as well have been eating dust for all the enjoyment he took. Still, Raziela wasn’t quite ready to give up.

  “The Great Mother is watching us. She must approve of what we’re doing if she sent this to us.”

  “Mmm.” She couldn’t tell if it was a noise of agreement or him merely moving the mango around his mouth. Growing irritated, she put her hands on her hips.

  “If we’re going to convince the people to turn back to her they need to understand exactly what’s at stake. When I was running from the guards, I came across a farmer who said his fertilizer was stealing the nutrients from the soil.”

  “GrainGro. Yeah. It’s a disaster in the making. The King ordered all the farmers to use it. By the time the general public realizes it makes the soil barren it’ll be too late.”

  “Someone should tell them.” Her voice was meaningful. His brow arched.

  “You think anyone in Phalyra would listen to what I have to say?”

  “No, but there must be someone.”

  He took a few more bites, glaring at the distance until it gave him answers. He gave a short bark of laughter that made her jump.

  “Dr. Laninga.”

  “What’s so funny?”

  “She tried to blow the whistle on the entire thing three years ago but I stopped her.”

  “Why?”

  He scraped his teeth against the large seed in the center of the mango, taking his time before he answered.

  “Lots of reasons. Because it would’ve started a panic. Because we didn’t have another choice. Because someone paid me to do it. Take your pick.” He chucked the seed into the ocean. Raziela watched it go.

  “Well if she was willing to speak out then, she should have no trouble doing so now.”

  “If you say so.” He turned to walk away from her up the shore. His boot caught on a bit of rock poking out of the sand and he tripped.

  It was such a small thing, that innocuous stumble, but it sent dread clanging through her. Something was wrong.

  “TRYING TO GET TO DR. Laninga during the day leaves too many variables outside our control. I say we pay her a visit tonight.”