“This is Galon, my first mate,” Ruby said. “You knew his father, Remi.”
Vidarian turned toward her in surprise. “Old Remi had a son?” The man had been a sea dog if there ever was one-veteran of multiple wars, hardened further by a yearslong feud that had devoured most all his blood kin. He turned back to Galon and offered his hand. “Vidarian Rulorat, captain of the Empress Quest.”
“Two sons!” Galon said, taking Vidarian's hand inside a massive paw, and indeed his deep voice was an echo from Vidarian's childhood. “And a daughter. Though my sibs're land-crawlers, all. A merchant and a scribe.”
“I'm pleased to hear of the Aldani clan's thriving,” Vidarian said, and Galon's grateful smile betrayed some of the gentle giant behind the hardened mariner.
Ariadel shifted beside him, and before Vidarian could make a belated introduction, Ruby sailed in.
“And this is Priestess Ariadel Windhammer, of Sher'azar. We'll be escorting her and Captain Rulorat to the Selturians.”
“Around the horn?” Galon chirped, surprised. Ruby smiled, and Galon only shrugged, then returned her smile and bowed himself out. “Adventure awaits, then. I'll see us launched, it won't be but a moment. Vadri's been working on the mizzen, so I'll have to pry him off.”
“Tell him to check the aft hold,” Ruby said. “It should keep him busy for a few days.” When Galon saluted-a casual thing, more parody than military precision-and turned aft, shouting commands to the crew, Ruby explained, “Our ship's carpenter is a little zealous. Fantastic in a bind, requires a little managing otherwise.” She smiled, turning to watch the accelerated motion of the crew as they moved to set the Viere on course. “Shall I show you to our guest quarters?”
A genteel request it was not, entirely-without waiting for them to agree, Ruby turned aft and set off in long stride, leaving them to hop to or be left in the scuttle. They crossed the Viere as fish swimming upstream, traversing the long deck-twice the length of the Quest-before reaching the capstan. Beyond it and the towering mizzenmast lay the large and heavily carved aftcastle, and there a cabin boy-scruffy, redheaded, likely a cousin of Ruby's-scrambled to haul open the ponderous oak door that led inside.
Vidarian had assumed Ruby was exaggerating when she mentioned “guest quarters,” but she hadn't been. A childhood memory of the Viere gave him a rough understanding of its layout-he'd spent six weeks aboard this ship in exchange for training that had, among other things, cemented the goodwill between his parents and the West Sea Queen-and the quarters he and Ariadel were assigned had been Ruby's while her mother still lived. The captain's quarters occupied the many-portholed stern of the ship, ornately worked inside and out, and flanking the carpeted hallway that led to them were two other large (by ship standards) chambers, one for the first mate and one, it seemed, for the captain's guests.
Ruby shouldered open the heavy door while still managing a flourish, and invited them in with a sweep of her hand. Ariadel stepped inside and Vidarian followed, swept in a memory. Himself, an awkward fourteen made more awkward by knowledge of his parents’ intent for Ruby and he; the Sea Queen's daughter, sprawled on the deck of this cabin with her then-frizzy head of copper curls obscuring the book open across her palms. The furniture had changed, but the pale celadon rug, expensive silk from the Qui Empire, was the same.
Ariadel turned toward the door, where Ruby leaned against the jamb. “We thank you for your hospitality, your majesty.”
Ruby, who had never been called “majesty” in Vidarian's hearing, grinned. “You've paid handsomely for it. Or you will.” There were teeth, but no threats, in her smile. “We'll be under way presently, and I'm for the launch. A pleasant rest to you both, and be welcome on our Lady Crown.”
While Vidarian set to inspecting the contents of the satchels they'd salvaged from the gryphon's little craft, Ariadel moved toward the small shelf of books set into the aft bulkhead like a moth toward light. A narrow bar of polished brass kept each shelf from losing its contents with the ship's movement, and it took a bit of maneuvering for her to extract a small cloth-bound volume. The books, too, Vidarian remembered from his youth-largely texts written about the Sea Kingdoms by outsiders. Queen Rhiannon had wanted her daughter to know what was said of their way of life by landers.
The leather satchels proved disappointing: a few days’ rations for the two of them, a fire kit and flat traveler's pan, and a map. No magical artifacts this time. Likely Thalnarra had learned from the last trip and hidden them away.
A whisper of movement as he set the second satchel beside the bed was his only warning.
Something struck the side of his head, hard-the heavy blow sent him reeling with spots across his vision. He spun, sword flying from its sheath, but staggered into the port bulkhead with a crash. Ariadel stood with feet braced, her hands, still wrapped around a book, glowing with elemental energy that sang the sword into life. Clenching the hilt, he wrapped his own energies into it, turning to face one corner of the room and then another, baffled-he and Ariadel were alone. The crash had brought shouts from above, and thundering footsteps echoed down from the deck.
The unseen enemy struck again, darkening the world for precious seconds. The blow left dizziness behind it and he faltered, seeing three Ariadels and lowering his sword for fear of accidentally striking any of them. He raised his arms to protect his head, blade flat against his neck as he crouched, half in defense, half in fear that if he remained upright the vertigo would take him.
A whisper in his mind-this is quite a mess, isn't it? Words quite unlike Ariadel, and the voice wasn't the same-
The door exploded inward, and his heart leapt to face another attack, but it was Ruby, her face a storm of fury, Galon and another crewman close behind. Her own sword was drawn, the longsword that had belonged to her mother, and it too incandesced in the light of Ariadel's life flame. She spared a glance for it, surprised, but returned her attention to the attacker. Vidarian expected confusion, but when she saw that the room was empty, she only snarled again.
Another blow, this one to his calf, and he fell to the side. Ruby leapt over him like a cat, a glittering chain and pendant in her left hand. She threw it forward, around nothingness, and suddenly a man was there, gasping as she yanked the chain taut around his neck. In the swing of her right arm came the longsword, its blade a flash of cold metal across his exposed throat, cutting clear through half his neck, withdrawn only after the sickening thud of its impact with bone.
The Sea Queen, taut as a belled sail, straightened with a snarl of disgust, wiping the blade on the man's tattered shirt. His limbs spasmed with death, but an equal measure of her raised lip was for the blood spilling across the expensive carpet, not his suffering.
Vidarian lifted himself to his knees, and regretted it. Ariadel rushed to him as he swayed, the fire wreathing her hands dimming to a warm glow. The book she'd been clutching, a treatise on Sea Kingdom culture, thudded softly to the carpet. As adrenaline faded from his veins, the full extent of the attack's force was beginning to register, and Vidarian blinked against a pounding in his skull that brought waves of darkness with each pulse.
Beside them, Ruby was turning the head of the dead assassin with the flat of her blade. “A null,” she said, deftly moving the tip of the blade under her pendant and twisting it free. She turned to Galon, her voice promising a soon-arriving storm. “Find out how he snuck aboard.” And then to the crewman, “And clean up this mess.” Both saluted and rushed from the room, grim and intent, leaving Ruby to smolder.
“Will you put him on your skin?” Ariadel asked, and if there was nervousness in her voice, she worked well to mask it.
Ruby lifted an eyebrow at Ariadel's acknowledgment of their custom, and the fingers of her right hand, marked with an old tattoo-left for the death of her first enemy-flexed around the sword. Her answer was a spit of disgust. “A man who never existed deserves no honor mark when he dies. He'll not touch me.” She turned away from the body to face them in full. “You'll sleep in my quarters tonight.” Ariadel started to object, but Ruby lifted a hand. “Someone was intent enough on killing you to sneak aboard the most dangerous ship in these waters. It would dishonor the West Sea Kingdom if you were to arrive at your destination dead.”
The ship's doctor, after a thorough examination that brought Vidarian into full awareness of the extent of his bruises, declared him unlikely to die. Night now was under way in full, and they'd wrapped his head in bandages before burying him in the thick featherbeds and embroidered coverlets of Ruby's bed. The sheets smelled faintly of cedar and cinnamon, and though there was easily room enough for two, Ariadel insisted on sleeping in a hammock strung in front of the door. Vidarian found it all rather ridiculous but was in no condition to complain, and, with the assistance of a bitter draught administered by the ship's doctor, fell into a deep sleep as soon as the lights were out.
Ah, here we are again. A voice. Soothing, almost. Familiar, almost.
The soft rush of the sea against strong ship-beam was a deep comfort after their days on land. But the sound was distant, because he was floating, reaching out into the sea itself. It should have been cold, but it wasn't-the fire of life that lived within it sang through him, from the tiniest creatures too small for the eye to see, all the way to the ship-sized whales who fed upon them. Their warmth was his warmth, and the sea was filled with bright consciousness, here between water and fire.
So curious. It's refreshing after all this time. I enjoy your mind.
The voice pulled at him, stopping him from reaching further. Annoyance, mild-he wanted to find the boundaries of this place. Ariadel? he thought, and her name filled him with sudden confusion. Who was he? They were on a ship. Where was the ship? Where was Ariadel?
Oh, that? That's very inconvenient. Let me fix it.
And the soft, warm presence that had-ever since the Vkorthan island-seemed just beyond his reach, but comfortingly near, was abruptly gone.
You're too good for her, you know.
He woke in a cold sweat, throwing back the opulent bedclothes with a wrench that set his head pounding. A sense of dread threaded with panic crept through him unlike any he'd experienced in his adult life. Strange nightmare…
A rustle from across the cabin. “Ariadel?” he whispered. She was a deep sleeper, but something had awakened both of them; there was more rustling of sheets, and then her feet thudding against the carpeted deck. Her hand was cool against his forehead, and she bent over him, concerned eyes meeting his.
It was just a nightmare. But-Can you hear me? he thought.
Ariadel's eyes continued to search his, looking for further sign of his injury. No thought came back to him.
Hoarsely, he whispered again, “Think something at me,” and her eyes sharpened with worry. A wrinkle between her eyebrows, for a moment-then her eyes widened.
“You couldn't…hear that?” her voice trembled, ever so slightly.
He shook his head.
In the dim light, her eyes glistened with water, and her hand clenched beside his head. Then she blinked them clear. “The blow to your head,” she said, and then coughed, grief closing her throat. “The nulls are a scourge,” she choked, anger burning through her pain. “They have no magic of their own, so they attack those of us who do.”
“Why couldn't we see him?” He knew he was asking a simple question to avoid telling her about the dream-that someone, another woman, had spoken in his mind and taken away their bond. Guilt welled up inside him, and he shivered involuntarily.
She took his shiver for a chill, and crept under the covers with him, sliding an arm carefully around his shoulders. He sighed at her warmth, coiling an arm around her waist, even as his bruises and head twinged. “They have no elemental nature,” she said, and pulled the covers higher around them. “It's an aberration-all sentient creatures, save them, have some elemental nature, even if it is faint. Most people have a balance of the elements-it's an imbalance that allows us to wield magic. But nulls have none at all. We don't consciously see elemental nature, but our subconscious mind processes it, and without it, a person becomes all but invisible to us.”
“That pendant Ruby had-”
“Fire magic,” she said, and without their link he couldn't quite tell whether there was a touch of anger beneath the words or not. “It imbues the wearer with a small amount of fire energy. She's dealt with nulls before.”
Like a child, he didn't want to sleep, fearing a return to the strange dreams, but fatigue, pain, and warmth conspired against him, pulling him down into unconsciousness again. Ariadel shifted, gently settling her arms more tightly around him, and he closed his eyes, surrendering-for now-to sleep.
Stepping onto the main deck the next morning was like staggering out of a tavern with a roaring hangover. The light assaulted his eyes, pounding the back of his head like an iron anchor, and Vidarian staggered half a step. Ariadel's arm, linked around his as if he were an old man, tightened, keeping him upright.
The journey to the bow, where several sailors told them Ruby kept an eye on their course, was a long one at such a slow pace. The busy bustle of the ship-brass being polished, sail repaired, rope knotted-was a homey comfort, even as it was a reminder that this was not Vidarian's ship and these were not his crew. He knew that Marielle would steer them steady, but the sense of wrongness at being away from his ship was a constant companion, and some primitive, superstitious part of his mind blamed all their recent misfortunes upon it.