Starborn Read online

  “Not supplies,” Quinn said, pausing next to us to call out an order to one of the ghosts. “Wren, go into the storeroom beneath my cabin and fetch up the small chest with the red seal binding it closed. The governor is said to be very exacting in the payment he requires.”

  “Payment for what?” I asked when the ghostly crewman hurried off to do Quinn’s bidding.

  Hallow took my hand. “Come, let us go into our cabin. I want to tell you about an idea Quinn had.”

  “If we go into our cabin, I’m going to strip off your cloak, leggings, and tunic, and lick every square inch of you,” I told him.

  “Are you absolutely certain you couldn’t find room for another boyfriend?” Quinn asked, spreading his arms wide despite the fact that the wind was causing the ship to lurch from side to side. He, like Hallow, didn’t seem to be bothered at all by the movement, whereas I stumbled and fell every few steps. “I have been told by two different ale wenches that I was quite lickable, and I’m willing to take a bath to make sure that there’s no spilled ale or food in my chest hair.”

  “Ew,” I answered, then punched him on the arm. “No. Stop asking. Besides, the licking offer was only open to Hallow. How about it, arcanist of my dreams?”

  Hallow looked thoughtful for a few seconds, then with a sigh of pure regret shook his head. “No, tempting as the offer is, now is not the time for all the loving I wish to lavish upon your fair, nubile body.”

  “I’m known across three continents for the quality of loving I can perform on nubile bodies,” Quinn murmured, looking hurt.

  “You almost loved me to the point that I couldn’t walk this morning,” I whispered in Hallow’s ear.

  He slid a hand under my cloak and pinched my behind. “Likewise, my temptress. But this is something I think we should discuss. Quinn? Shall we explain your thoughts?”

  Quinn started a leer, but aborted it immediately when he saw that Hallow held a ball of arcane light in his hand. “Very well. But it won’t be as much fun as the discussion I want to have. Commander Ohare? Ah, there you are.”

  He gave a few more orders to the crew, then headed into the captain’s cabin.

  “What’s this all about?” I asked Hallow, not liking the idea that he had been keeping things from me. We had an unspoken policy of sharing any information that was of major importance, and I didn’t appreciate finding out he wasn’t being as forthcoming as I’d desire. “Have you been making plans with Quinn?”

  He hesitated for a few seconds. “Yes, but before you rail at me, it was only because I wasn’t sure about them, myself, and wanted to wait until I had time to consult Exodius’s journals before I asked you for your opinion.”

  I was mollified enough to bite his lower lip. “Is that why you’ve been closeted with those trunks of moldy books while I mucked out your horse’s stall for the last few days?”

  He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose, then turned me and gently pushed me toward the captain’s quarters. “I told you that I would clean both stalls, but you insisted on doing it, if you recall.”

  “That’s because I’m going mad with nothing to do on this ship,” I said, grateful to be out of the storm. My hair was plastered to my head, some of it glued to my mouth, while the rest of me…well, mucking out stalls is never easy to do in the best of circumstances, and working in the hold of the pitching ship meant I hadn’t escaped without some reminders of the experience. “But I am very interested to know just why we’re stopping at an island south of Eris rather than fighting our way through the storms. Is there a portal here, by any chance?”

  “Not that I’ve heard,” Quinn said, glancing at Hallow. “You?”

  Hallow shook his head. “It takes great power to open portals, the sort of powers belonging to the twin goddesses, not their mortal children. That, or an artifact of their power, like the queen’s moonstones.”

  I had never thought about that, and was unable to keep from asking, “How did the Harborym open up so many portals if that’s the case? They are most certainly not as powerful as Kiriah and Bellias.”

  “I’m guessing Racin drew upon the collective chaos magic held by his followers to open the portals. Exodius told me before he left that the Harborym found near the open portals were dead, depleted to the point of being empty husks of their former selves.” Hallow gave a little shrug and pulled me down next to him on the edge of Quinn’s bunk, while the captain seated himself at his desk. “We’re going to Maquet instead of directly to Eris.”

  “Because the islands disrupt the storms. But that makes no sense,” I scoffed.

  “Not disrupt the storms so much as the charge—” The words stopped on Hallow’s lips when the door to the cabin was thrown open, a blast of wind sending cold air and spray into the relative warmth of the space, followed by a figure in white and gold who was thrust into the room.

  “Captain, I found a stowaway in the strong room!” the ghost at the door proclaimed.

  I stared in complete surprise as the figure pulled herself from the grip of the sailor, who immediately faded into nothing, evidently having depleted all of his power. “Idril! By Kiriah’s toenails, what were you thinking? We’ve told you how dangerous this journey is.”

  “And I told you—and your annoying husband—that I would not be left behind. Not again.” She lifted her chin and I couldn’t help but notice that despite the fact she’d evidently spent the last five days hiding in a small, stuffy strong room, her hair gleamed, her skin was flawless, and her white gown and cloak didn’t have so much as a smudge on them. Before I could reflect—sourly—on the unfairness of life, she wrinkled her nose and asked me, “Did you bathe in shit? Your odor is unbearable.”

  I glared at her for a moment, then rose and pointed at her while demanding of Hallow, “Smite her!”

  “Now, my heart—” he started to say in that annoyingly patient voice he so often used with me.

  “Don’t you my heart me! If you love me, you’ll smite her. I’d do it myself, but not only do I have to go take a bath and throw these clothes overboard, but if I did end her life as she deserves, Kiriah would most definitely never bless me again. And Idril isn’t worth risking that. Just punch a couple of large holes in her torso with the arcany you were using to warn Quinn. One or two holes. That’s all I ask. I’m sure Bellias won’t care.”

  Hallow laughed and pulled me back down next to him. “I think this time, I will refrain, and we will hear what Lady Idril has to say for herself.”

  “I have many things to say, not the least of which is that your wife is mad and is quite possibly a danger to herself and others. But since you have refused to listen to me about other, more important, issues, I doubt if you will do so now.” With a fine look of distaste at me, Idril glided over to accept the chair that Quinn dragged forward for her. I thought for a moment he was going to throw himself at her feet, but he contented himself with pulling his own chair over to hers and staring at her with mingled lust and puppy dog hopefulness.

  “You really are the most fickle of men,” I couldn’t help but point out.

  He waved away my comment without taking his eyes off Idril. “You’re taken. She’s not. And her hair is beyond glorious, while yours is…less so.”

  “I like Allegria’s hair,” Hallow protested, twining a finger through one of my damp curls. “It is full of life, and doesn’t like to be confined, rather like her spirit.”

  I kissed his cheek. “I love you, too.”

  “Lady Idril puts us in a difficult position,” he continued, but pulled me closer against him. “I refuse to be responsible for her possible death. Therefore, we must put her ashore when we stop at Huw.”

  Idril looked at him as if he was a particularly uninteresting bug. “If you try, the mad priest will be a widow.”

  My eyes widened as I took in her threat. I thought of challenging her, or of calling on Kiriah to bless me one
last time in order to call down the light of the sun onto Idril’s fair head, and finally considered whether or not I could stuff her through one of the portholes that lined the back wall of Quinn’s cabin.

  Hallow didn’t appear even remotely upset that she had just threatened his life. “Indeed,” he said, looking thoughtful, stroking a finger across his chin in a way that normally made me pounce on him. Now I was too annoyed to allow myself anything but a moment to acknowledge just how sexy he was. “I think she means it,” he said to me at last.

  “Given that she killed at least six of her father’s men without turning one of her perfect hairs, I suppose she does,” I allowed. “That doesn’t mean I have to like the fact that she hid away on the ship just to blight us.”

  “Your choice of words…” Idril shook her head, then addressed Hallow. “What is this island at which we are stopping, but which I will not be left upon? Why are we not sailing directly to Eris? Deo is in need of me. I do not wish for him to come to harm simply because you and the mad priest insist on dawdling.”

  “We are not dawdling!” I exclaimed. “And I highly doubt if Deo is so badly in need of you—the last time he saw you, he told you to leave.”

  Ire flashed in her eyes, but was gone almost instantly. “I grow tired of arguing with you. You are determined to think the worst of me, and I lack the desire to try to make you see the truth.”

  “Don’t you dare make me look like the unreasonable one here,” I said, annoyed at both the fact that she so irritated me, and that I couldn’t seem to keep my opinions to myself whenever she was around. I caught the look Hallow sent my way, and said quietly, “Stop looking at me like that. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  “I am and always will be wholly and completely on both your sides, as well as your front and back, but you must admit that you have a slight sense of inferiority when it comes to Idril.”

  “She said I stink,” I whispered furiously.

  “My heart, you smell like sun warmed flowers on a grassy hilltop. Your clothing, however…”

  “Right,” I said, standing up. Pointing at Idril, I commanded, “No one say anything important. Feel free to lambaste her for stowing away on the ship, however.”

  Ten minutes later I’d had a quick wash, had indeed thrown my clothing (an old priest’s robe that I used to wear when making soap) out the porthole, and returned to the captain’s quarters, where I found Hallow, Quinn, and Idril all in possession of mugs of ale, laughing heartily at some joke as I entered.

  “I’m back,” I said unnecessarily, unreasonably prickly because Hallow was having a good time without me. As soon as I had the thought, I lectured myself that I was better than that, and instead of demanding to know what they all found so funny, took my seat next to Hallow and accepted a sip from the mug he proffered. “Now that I smell less like horse and mule, can we get on with the discussion of just how an island is supposed to help us get through the nigh impassable storms that surround Eris?”

  “Ah, yes, as to that, I believe we’ll let Quinn explain why the idea came to him,” Hallow said.

  Quinn, who was attempting to press more ale upon Idril, set down the ale jug, cleared his throat, and strode over to his desk, where he picked up a dagger and used it to point to a map on the wall. “It’s less an idea, and more an experience. As I believe I mentioned, I have tried three times to sail to Eris, and only succeeded once. The first two times, all hands were lost, including myself. Only I returned to life almost immediately, and it took some time for me to make landfall clinging to a bit of the ship. I landed on one of the Maquet islands, as a matter of fact, although I had no idea what a unique role the islands play in the storms of Eris. The second time, I was in the company of two other ships, and once they saw mine break up as soon as we crossed into the storms, they fished the handful of survivors out of the water and returned to Aryia. The third time…” He paused when Dexia entered the cabin, trailing a long streamer of cloth, dirt-stained, and marked with rusty symbols. It had to be the length of the ship itself, but was no more than the width of a hand. She said nothing, just pulled the cloth in after her, now sodden from the wet decks, and plopped herself down next to a brazier that emitted feeble heat.

  “The third time,” Quinn continued, “I used the same crew we have now, and on the voyage to Eris I managed to keep the ship from sinking, although we did have to replace both masts, the bow, the rudder, and the entire port side. Leaving was another matter. The ship was laden with costly goods and six passengers, including the Regis and his family.”

  “Regis?” I asked Hallow in a whisper. “The king?”

  “More or less, yes.”

  “Dexia was the only one of the family who survived, and then only because she was…different.”

  She grinned, showing all of her teeth.

  “The ship sank, and Dex and I were rescued by the people of the northernmost island, Breakfront. And that’s when I discovered that the islands disturb the magnetic properties of the storm.”

  “How can that be?” I asked at the same time Idril said, “That seems unbelievable.”

  “I could never lie to you, my sweet, silky one,” Quinn told her in a voice that was borderline fawning.

  Dexia made a face and gave her long streamer of stained cloth a quick jerk so that it slapped against the back of Idril’s chair with a wet, nasty noise.

  “As for your question—” Quinn’s shoulders lifted. “I don’t know the why of it, Lady Allegria. I simply know that the men of Breakfront said the reason we survived was because the storm blew us to the south, rather than to the east, where we had originally set course. In answer to your earlier question, the governor—for a fee—allows unwary captains to use his islands as a way to enter Eris.”

  “And?” I asked.

  His lips thinned. “None have ever made it back but me.”

  We were all silent for a few minutes, taking in our doomed futures.

  “I’ve consulted Exodius’s journals during our voyage,” Hallow said finally. “He had little to say about the Maquet Islands other than that the inhabitants were said to possess an uncanny ability to see in the dark, but there was a brief description of the islands, and the strange property of the iron that is found there. Exodius speculated that since iron was the antithesis of Nezu, the point where the island chain pierced the storms disrupted the protection he put in place to guard the Shadowborn.”

  “Nezu,” I murmured, trying to remember where I’d heard that name.

  “The god of the Shadowborn,” Hallow told me.

  “They have their own god? I assumed they must be Bellias’s children, the same as the Starborn.”

  “I thought so, too, but Exodius had a brief note describing a tale he’d heard from a traveler about Nezu, stating that the god protects Eris by means of the storms. Supposedly, when Kiriah Sunbringer smote Alba with her fire, Nezu protected his people by casting them into perpetual shade, where Kiriah’s rays could not reach.”

  I stared at him in horror, fear crawling up my arms and back. “You mean—you’re not saying that Kiriah doesn’t reach Eris?”

  “My heart, do not look so stricken.” Hallow turned to take me in his arms, his body a haven of peace in a world that was filled with fear and confusion. “You are Kiriah’s chosen whether or not you believe she has turned her back on you. You have been favored by her in the past, and so you will be in the future. You will be fine in Eris.”

  “I hope so, because if not…”

  I didn’t complete the sentence since at that moment, a crewman alerted Quinn that the ship was approaching the harbor.

  “It’s up to you,” Quinn said, looking at Hallow and me. “Should we take on supplies, then turn around to return to Aryia, or leave off Lady Idril—not that I wish to be parted from you, my beauteous one, but like the others, I would be loath to see your graceful and delicious form destroyed�
��and hand over a hefty fee to the governor in order to make a run for Eris?”

  I peeled myself off Hallow’s chest to meet his gaze. “What do you think?” he asked.

  Idril sat stiffly, but her golden gaze was liquid with an inner fire. I bit back the demand that we put her ashore and gave Hallow a little nod. “I don’t think there is any other path for us to try.”

  He smiled, the warmth and love in his eyes making me feel as if I was filled with Kiriah’s fire. “To Eris, captain.”

  “You’ll be wanting this, then,” Dexia said, rising and dragging her soggy length of fabric with her. She plopped part of it on my lap.

  “Your suman?” I asked, remembering the name she’d given the item she’d been working on for the last five days.

  “It isn’t mine, it’s yours. Well, I’ll use a bit of it, but the bulk of it is for you.” She shot a sour look toward Idril. “I wasn’t aware the white witch was going to need protection, too, but I suppose if you all stand close, it will work.”

  “What in the name of Bellias is that—” Hallow started to say, but I simply grabbed up the cloth, winding it in a tidy coil.

  An hour later, after bleak declarations of our demise from the governor of the Maquet Islands, we received permission to sail close to shore along the chain of rocky islets.

  “Right. Well, since your minds are made up, would you prefer to stay here, or join me on deck?” Quinn asked, his expression now black, without the slightest hint of humor.

  “Deck,” Hallow and I said at the same time; we were both tired of huddling together in Quinn’s cabin.

  “It’s raining,” Idril complained, but followed us when we all trooped out after Quinn.

  “Where should we use your suman?” I asked Dexia before she scampered toward the tallest mast, no doubt heading to the crow’s nest.