Blue nodded, taking a moment to let that sink in. As his posture softened, I knew I’d succeeded in cooling his anger—which I’m sure was exactly what Lagash had been hoping for when he ordered us to meet with Ulysses.

  “Let’s not leave the fool waiting, then,” Blue said, turning toward the door. “I’ve found there is much fun to be had in harassing the nobility.”

  I smiled as I got up to follow. That sounded like the Tehenessey Blue I’d come to know and sort of enjoy.

  We found Ulysses in his makeshift palanquin beside the pilot box, his knees scrunched up to his chest to keep his legs in the shade of the canopy above. Beside him, Lori held the wheel loosely but attentively, awaiting instructions to adjust course. The Black Yonnix tore through the ocean, her pontoons deployed to either side and the engine powered at what felt like half or three-quarters of its maximum capacity. The coastal jungles of the continent’s southern arc were distant but clearly visible off to starboard.

  “Good afternoon, my friends!” Ulysses said warmly, though exhaustion etched his face. “I’d stand to greet you properly, but Lori has threatened to break my legs if I try to get up one more time.”

  “It’s true,” she said merrily. “Were it up to me, you’d be tied down to that bed.”

  Ulysses pointed a surprisingly quick finger at Blue. “Don’t,” he said. The marii let his mouth hang open for a second as if letting the joke he’d planned evaporate into the air, and then he smiled slyly. Lori’s cheeks turned the color of the setting sun.

  “How are you feeling?” I finally asked the first mate.

  “As well as a man struggling to maintain his own identity in the face of two dueling heritages can be,” he replied with a wink. “I’ll admit, I thought I’d put all this to bed a very long time ago.”

  “I suppose none of us can fight what we are,” I mused.

  “Rubbish,” Blue snapped. “I don’t wish to live in a tree like my brethren, so I do not.”

  “Ah, but does the tree call to you in your every waking moment?” Ulysses asked. “Does it pull upon your very flesh, like an excited bride testing the make of a gown? Does it speak to you in both your dreams and your nightmares, pleading, beseeching, and occasionally demanding?”

  “Does it whisper sweet nothings in your ear when you sit upon the loo?” Blue asked mischievously.

  Ulysses guffawed. “It does, and that is by far the worst part.” He paused for a moment, looking upward at nothing in particular, sampling the air. “Lori! Seven degrees to port!”

  “Aye, sir!”

  “It appears you’ve found the necessary Aiemer streams easily enough,” Blue said tentatively.

  “That I have, my friend. Lucky for us, our direction need not match theirs. Otherwise we’d be trapped in a headwind at the moment.”

  The marii waved his arm to indicate the bed and canvas set up. “And this arrangement suits His Lordship well enough?”

  “For now, friend Blue! I might say it could use a bit more gold plating, and perhaps a ready supply of fine wine,” Ulysses said, tinging his words with melodramatic pompousness.

  “You’re off the alcohol for now, too,” Lori snapped.

  “So the lady of this realm says, and so it shall be,” Ulysses joked. “Two degrees back to starboard.”

  “Aye, sir!”

  The first mate took a deep breath, composing himself. “Friend Blue, I do apologize for keeping all of this from you. I never once thought you stupid or untrustworthy. ’Twas my own inability to face myself, and to briefly give up the life and reputation I’d built to keep it all away. I do wish I’d found the strength to tell you about my heritage before the influences in my blood decided to take that choice from me.”

  The marii’s lip quivered, and I thought he might cry. Then he set his feet and crossed his arms. “I accept your apology, but of course still seek additional recompense in the form of coin or other shiny pretties.”

  We all knew that meant a lot, coming from Tehenessey Blue. Ulysses clapped his hands together. “I wouldn’t have it any other way!”

  “You’re all absurd,” Lori grumbled from the pilot box.

  “Yes,” Ulysses agreed, “but we have so much fun! Three degrees to port!”

  — CHAPTER FIFTEEN —

  Our voyage took a week longer than we’d planned, thanks to unreliable Aiemer sources that left us utilizing the wind and a violent storm that knocked the ship—and my stomach—a bit off course.

  I could not have been happier when Ulysses finally pointed out our destination on the horizon.

  “There it is,” he said, handing me the spyglass. He was finally on his feet again, though he’d yet to return to his previous vigor. “Our first step toward Lucifus’s riches.”

  I pressed the glass to my right eye and closed my left. The island didn’t look like much, even through that scope, but the mere sight of it was reassuring and exciting, proof that there was something, at least, at the first location we’d gleaned from my ancestor’s mysterious journal.

  “How far are we from the mainland?” Nicolette asked beside me.

  “About a day’s easy sailing, according to the charts,” explained Ulysses. “I’ve not sailed this far east before, however, so I can’t vouch for that.”

  “Has anyone onboard been to the Kleas before?” I asked.

  “Elenwe told me that one of the older Mana’Olai used to work aboard a merchant ship that traded with a settlement farther north,” Nicolette replied. “She said it’s a hard land, with jungles more dangerous than we’re used to back in Nefazo.”

  The creak of the stairs announced Captain Lagash’s approach. He clutched the journal in his meaty hands. “Keep a close eye on this,” he said, handing it to me.

  “It’s warm.”

  “Aye. A good sign, I believe.”

  From behind us, Blue clicked his tongue. “Or a warning.”

  Lagash ignored him. “Lori, kill the engine and stow the pontoons. Let’s approach this place nice and slow.”

  “Aye, sir,” Lori said as she worked the control levers. The ship shuddered as the mechanisms beneath us pulled the pontoons back into the hull.

  Ulysses took a step forward and leaned over the rail to shout down to the main deck. “Half cloth from here! All hands!”

  Elenwe, who’d naturally stepped into Tarik’s former role, repeated the first mate’s orders and marched up and down the ship to ensure they were followed.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the ocean behind us, as I’d been doing often those days. There was no sign of pursuit, shuen or otherwise.

  A second later, I felt Nicolette’s reassuring hand on my shoulder—as I knew I would. “I told you to stop that,” she said. “Don’t waste your energy on Thranax or my uncle. We have enough to deal with here and now.”

  I knew she was right, and I turned away immediately—knowing full well it’d take more than a few reassuring words to break that obsessive habit. We’d talked about it plenty over the last few weeks, working down in the kitchen or watching great silver Diun set on the deck. She’d made clear that she was worried about L’Vaillee, that she feared Thranax’s influence would make him even more devious and cruel. As Nefazo nobility, she also felt a certain responsibility for the men sailing under his twisted command. Even with all that, she’d been steadfast with her reminders that we needed to focus on the dangers in front of us, rather than on those that hadn’t caught up to us yet. I was grateful for her counsel—and her company.

  Ulysses stepped between us. “Worry not, friends! We’ve got cannons on both sides of the ship!”

  Nicolette turned to the first mate but left her hand on my shoulder. “Would it be wise to divide our attention and our ammunition, though?”

  He shrugged. “I like our chances.”

  She departed for the main deck with a grunt. Nicolette had taken well to life at sea, and she knew there would be work to do somewhere down with the rest of the crew. If she couldn’t find it on her own, Elenwe would find it for her.

  As the ship approached that island, the journal became uncomfortably warm to hold. I set it down at my feet. “Don’t let it burn a hole in the deck,” Lori said from the pilot’s box, glancing at it warily.

  “Open it,” Lagash instructed.

  I’d been considering that, but I hadn’t wanted to risk angering the sea without the captain’s explicit permission. As I lifted the cover, a strange gust of wind whipped from port to starboard across the deck, knocking it from my hands back to the deck and turning the pages to about three-quarters of the way through the book. A series of letters glowed blue among the text.

  “For Hersche, my youngest daughter, who always needs more,” I translated out loud.

  When I finished speaking, the glowing letters turned back to plain ink. I reached under the journal to feel the cover; it had cooled. I flipped through the pages one more time to make sure there was nothing else to read, but whatever magic had just communicated with us was clearly gone.

  “Thanks for the help, Lucifus,” Ulysses cracked.

  I picked up the journal and stood, thinking. “Why did he dedicate this trial to his daughter?” I wondered out loud.

  Lagash shook his head. “I doubt we’ll know until we find the trial itself. Still, mark those words well; I doubt they were without intent.”

  “Hersche sounds lovely,” Blue said. “Ulysses, isn’t that usually your type?”

  “You know quite well that ‘rich’ is my type, friend Blue!” the first mate replied, looking down toward the deck where Nicolette was helping an older man tie off a rope.

  Something warm and angry tightened my chest. Despite my recent growth, there were still certain aspects of life at which I was badly inexperienced, and it wasn’t until later that I fully understood what that emotion meant. To distract myself, I turned to Lori and the captain. I found the woman in the pilot box frowning, though I did not immediately realize the cause. “How long before we arrive?” I asked.

  “We’ll not be there before sunset,” Lagash replied. “We’ll weigh anchor at a safe distance, wait out the evening, and see what the morning brings.”

  I wanted to ask whether such a delay was wise, given our pursuers, but Nicolette’s early reminder echoed in my ear. Rushing ashore at night would certainly be an unwise risk.

  Still, I pressed my hand to my chest, wishing the ugly rune’s magic worked both ways.

  — CHAPTER SIXTEEN —

  I did not sleep well that evening. My dreams were tortured by visions of L’Vaillee, brandishing his rapier, cutting down each of my crewmates one by one as Thranax watched from a throne of black coral trimmed with jagged shark teeth. I know not if this was some effect of the rune or merely my own anxiety.

  In the morning, I wasted no time in heading above. I found the captain and first mate by the mast, looking out toward the shore. We’d anchored the ship a few thousand paces from the narrow, sandy beach. Lagash greeted me with a slight tip of his coffee mug while Ulysses said good morning around a mouthful of breakfast sausage. That Lori always found the energy to get up early and make breakfast after a long day at the helm left me amazed. That woman was unstoppable—and, despite everything, I hope she remains so.

  When I realized what they were staring at, I gasped. “How long has he been there?”

  “The watch says he showed up not long after first light,” Ulysses replied. “Sometimes he waves.”

  As if on cue, the man on the shore raised his arm and greeted us. Though the distance made it hard to make out specific details, he appeared to be shirtless, with a tanned animal hide wrapped around his waist.

  “The Dalam are said to be friendly,” Lagash said slowly. “Though I fear your ancestor’s influence on any who live so close to his trials.”

  My imagination had concocted a wide variety of possibilities regarding Lucifus’s secretive trials—as had Nicolette’s, as we’d often discussed the matter while on galley duty. We’d speculated about there being riddles, traps, feats of strength, tests of mental and emotional fortitude, epic clashes with ferocious guardian spirits, and all manner of challenges based off stories I’d heard from traveling minstrels and the books she’d read in Vastille’s library. Not once, however, had either of us considered that there might be other people involved. The thought made the distant man’s friendly wave ominous and chilling.

  “Go ahead and wave back,” the captain said to Ulysses. “Let’s not make the man ruin his arm. We’ll find someone who speaks the local language and send them ashore to find out what in Yuin he wants.”

  That man turned out to be Davanon, who did not hesitate to let us all know the task was not one he looked forward to.

  “My people have had dealings with the Dalam, yes, and I’ve studied their language,” he told us, “but I am this ship’s engineer, not a bloody diplomat.”

  “You are what I need you to be, Davanon, or I revoke your right to a full share of this voyage’s bounty,” Lagash replied calmly.

  “Hmmmph.” Davanon untwisted his distasteful expression into something approaching contrite. “Well, at least allow me to take Rindge and Belga. Dalam tribes all speak in different dialects of the main tongue, and I am out of practice.”

  This assignment thrilled Belga, though her husband remained impassive. “I’ve never killed anyone from the Kleas before!” she said in a way that turned my blood cold.

  Davanon sat in the prow of the longboat as Rindge and Belga rowed. The rest of us watched from the deck of the Black Yonnix. It was, all things considered, a lovely morning, with a blue sky interrupted by lazy, puffy clouds. The ship rocked gently in the clear water. Beyond the island, I could just see a greenish-brown smudge between the sea and the sky that must’ve been the mainland. The man on the shore was still alone, though he’d taken a seat to patiently await the arrival of our emissaries.

  “It’s about the size of Haershore, don’t you think?” Nicolette asked at my side.

  “Yes,” I replied. “Wish I could see through all that foliage.”

  “I’m sure our friends on that longboat do too. Lori’s below with Elenwe, prepping a few cannons in case they’re necessary.”

  I didn’t like that our friends were that far beyond our reach, though I certainly appreciated their bravery. I sincerely hoped the cannons remained quiet and that the hoard of concealed weaponry I knew Rindge and Belga had taken with them proved unnecessary. With our luck, however, I expected both to become important.

  As the longboat closed in on the island, the man on the shore waded out to meet it. Rindge and Belga stopped the little vessel a few paces farther out. The man took hold of the prow and helped drag it the rest of the way.

  Blue appeared beside us, squinting toward the action. “I don’t like that guy. He looks like he lives in a tree.”

  “Is it a nice tree, do you think?” Nicolette asked playfully. “Or some rotten old oak?”

  “A tree’s a tree,” the marii replied haughtily.

  “You live on a boat,” I said, “made of wood. The Black Yonnix is basically a big, floating—”

  “Finish that line of reasoning and I will cut out your tongue,” Blue snapped. He closed his eyes and pinched the space between them. “I definitely liked you better when you were afraid of everyone.”

  Nicolette and I shared a laugh at that, an occurrence that was becoming more common by the day.

  Across the water, Davanon turned to us and waved. Behind him, the Dalam man echoed his gesture, then took hold of the prow of the boat to help guide it toward the shore.

  “Looks like all’s well!” one of the northerners said happily. A few others cheered.

  “Steady, men,” Lagash ordered from his position by the mast. “Let’s not lose sight of our people until they set foot on that shore. That jungle may be just as unfriendly as it looks.”

  They beached the longboat without incident. Our crewmates clambered out, each shaking the Dalam’s hand one-by-one. Belga even curtseyed a little, to keep up appearances.

  Nothing and no one burst forth from the jungle to take them. Instead, they milled about aimlessly, waiting for activity from the Black Yonnix.

  “All right,” Lagash declared after a few more moments. “Ulysses, take your team ashore. We’ll proceed as planned: the Black Yonnix will remain here until Diuntyne, then take cover from the open ocean on the far side of the island.”

  I knew from that morning’s planning session in the captain’s quarters that Thaitheoir would also be disembarking later that evening. He was not to serve as backup to the main group, however; instead, his task was to scour the island for any ingredients that might aid in removing or counteracting the rune on my chest. The captain thought it best to keep the Fae’s association with us a secret from the Dalam, just in case. Thaitheoir readily agreed.

  Father and son clasped arms. “Take care of the ship, old man,” Ulysses said with a wicked grin.

  “Take care of yourself and those you lead,” the captain replied. “Come back to me, boy.”

  Though not exactly a heartwarming moment, it was still the most extravagant show of emotion I’d seen between the Lagashes. It was nice to see. They’d certainly shown more of a bond in public since Ulysses’s brush with death at the end of the Count’s poisoned sword.

  Ulysses’s team consisted of exactly the people Your Highness would suspect: Tehenessey Blue, Nicolette, and me. Nicolette had insisted on joining, and Captain Lagash had readily agreed, citing our teamwork back in Vastille and in the time since. I certainly felt better having her with us; she’d proven to be a calming influence, and she had a better head on her shoulders than my other hot-blooded companions. From what I’d seen of her practicing on the deck, she’d become a rather decent shot with the crossbow Belga had taught her to use and which she now carried strapped to her back.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22