Hymn of Breath and Bone (The Whispering Sea Duet #2)

Chapter 16

Nordhavn was five days north of the siren cliffs if we didn’t use the wind too much to manipulate our speed. Caspian was wary of attracting attention, so we carried on like any merchant vessel, albeit with a slightly unnatural advantage with the winds.

Caspian continued training me each morning, and Zephyr took over in the afternoons. It was vital, Caspian claimed, that I could defend myself if we would be hunting the Stormcrow, or whoever was using his name. Each had different strengths, Caspian focusing on daggers and blocking while Zephyr worked on speed and evasion.

There were still two days to go and I was so sore, every muscle aching as Caspian swung his blade toward me in the morning gloom.

“Faster, Urchin,” he growled, pulling back just before he nicked me in the side. “Your opponent won’t wait for you to catch your breath.”

“You may as well skewer me now then,” I panted, a slight wheeze betraying me.

Caspian frowned, sheathing his weapon. “You promised to tell me when you were having a hard day.”

“It wasn’t that bad before we started training.” It wasn’t a complete lie. I had woken with the feeling of a heavy weight on my chest, knowing that it foretold a difficult day for my lungs, but I had hoped that taking Mira’s medicine might alleviate the symptoms.

It had not.

It was a bitter blow. For the first time in my life, I’d had days where I didn’t think about my lungs even once. Granted, Caspian had kept me too busy to dwell on them with both training and more pleasurable activities, but I’d almost forgotten how bad it could be.

“Urchin,” Caspian said, gripping my arms and kissing my brow. “Let’s take a break.”

“We’ll be landing in Nordhavn tomorrow,” I argued, stepping out of his grip. “I don’t have time to be coddled.”

“I’m not trying to coddle you,” Caspian replied, looking slightly hurt. “Mira said prevention was key. I’m trying to prevent you from having a flare-up.”

“I know my own limits,” I argued, raising my daggers. “We keep going.”

“Urchin—”

“We keep going,” I repeated, going on the offensive and aiming for one of the soft, tender areas Caspian had told me to hit.

He blocked me easily, disarming me with alarming speed and pinning my arms in front of me as he held me fast.

“Do you yield?” The edge of amusement in his tone made me struggle harder, which in turn made me wheeze. Caspian didn’t loosen his grip. “Marina?”

“Fine,” I snapped.

Caspian instantly released my wrists, but he caught me around the waist and tilted my chin up so I was forced to look at him. “It's not a weakness to respect your own limits, Urchin. More battles have been won by restraint than by blind stubbornness. Every good general knows when his soldiers have reached their limit.”

“Are you the general in this analogy?” I asked, finding it difficult to frown under his intense scrutiny. “Soldier king?”

Caspian smirked. “If only you took orders so easily, Urchin. Think of all the things I could make you do.” My toes curled in my boots at the purr in his voice, and I had to catch my balance against the rail when he released me. “Let me bring you tea.”

I nodded, feeling like my throat and lungs were too tight to reply properly.

The sea below the ship was choppy, and I turned to gaze at the waves cresting and falling, reaching out my awareness to the sea.

It had been a while since I’d practiced what Ran had taught me, and the sea nearly overwhelmed me before I remembered myself and built barriers around my mind to control its flow.

Indistinct shapes took form beneath the waves. A school of fish and a few sharks, a clump of kelp. There were a few forms more difficult to make out, and I wondered exactly what creatures lurked below us that I couldn’t identify. The kraken was probably somewhere down there, but a quick search through the sea turned up nothing.

A flash of blue-green caught my attention, and I pulled back from the sea’s grip to stare below us. A spiky fin emerged, cresting next to the hull before sinking below the waves again.

“Your friend?” Zephyr asked, appearing next to me so suddenly I startled.

“Seas, how long have you been there?”

“Only a minute,” she said, grinning at my surprise. “You were very engrossed. So is that your friend? It’s been following us since we left the cliffs.”

“It has?” I asked, frowning back down at the water to see if I could find the sea dragon again. Its tail flicked above the water in greeting as I prodded it with my mind, and I blinked in surprise.

You’re the sea dragon that gifted me the scale. Why are you following us?

It took a moment for the sea dragon’s reply to filter in past the salt spray and churning waves of the ocean.

The kelpie told me to guard you, little goddess.

Rannoch? I asked in surprise. Why? Is he with you?

He is readying his herd, the sea dragon replied, shaking his head so violently, sea water splashed me. He seemed to think you were likely to get into trouble.

Readying his herd for what?

The sea dragon shifted its form in what I interpreted to be a shrug. That’s his business.

I sighed, knowing what Caspian would think of Ran’s meddling, not to mention his tendency to be cryptic.

Do you have a name? I asked.

Phyllopetryx, it replied with a hiss. But you may call me Phyll.

I smiled, glad that at least some magical creatures understood the point of nicknames.

“Yes, it’s the same sea dragon,” I said aloud, finally withdrawing my mind from the sea. “Why didn’t you alert me?”

“We just spotted him last night,” Zephyr replied, giving me a sidelong glance. “So far it’s just been keeping pace with us, nothing more.”

“Interesting.”

“Tea, Marina.” Caspian appeared on my other side, and I jumped. I swore these sirens could materialize out of nothing. Zephyr laughed, steadying me lest I fall overboard. “What’s got you so jumpy, Urchin?”

“She’s just spotted the sea dragon,” Zephyr supplied as I carefully took the cup of tea and blew on it to cool it. “Are your lungs well, Marina?”

“Just a hard day,” I replied before Caspian could exaggerate my difficulties with his coddling. “Caspian made us stop training.”

“And I will never hear the end of it, I’m sure,” he said, giving me a fond smile. He patted his shoulder. “Did the sea dragon say anything about this scale?”

“No.” I took another sip. “He did say that Ran is readying his herd”

“Skies, I shudder to imagine,” Caspian groaned. “If you’ve finished your tea, Urchin, I have an alternative activity for us you might enjoy.”

“Oh?” I asked, blushing and glancing hesitantly at Zephyr, who was watching Caspian with interest.

“Disgusting,” Zephyr groaned, turning away. “I’m going back to work.” She shot me a wink from her good eye as she barked orders at someone to mind the rigging.

Caspian barked a laugh. “Not that, Urchin, although I appreciate where your filthy mind likes to go. Are you feeling up to using some magic?”

“Magic?”

“I have a theory,” Caspian replied with a shrug that was a bit too nonchalant to be casual. “I think you may have some control over the wind.”

I coughed, choking on my tea. “You what?”

“Like I said, it’s a theory,” Caspian replied, patting me on the back and taking the teacup from me. “Humor me, Urchin. How do you control the sea?”

“I sort of ask her,” I replied. “I don’t really control it so much as I ask for her help.”

“And when you pulled water from the air,” Caspian pushed. “Back when we were shipwrecked. How did you do that?”

“I…” I frowned, trying to remember exactly how I did it. “I just felt for the water and pulled. I’ve always been able to do that.”

Caspian’s eyes flashed in what looked like triumph, as if I’d confirmed his theory already. “And how many selkies can do that?”

“Not many.” I frowned. “It’s called summoning, when you pull water from the ground or the air. But it’s not a particularly useful magic when there are pipes that carry water around, so I didn’t really use it on the Isles.”

“And have you ever seen any other selkies summoning water from the air?” he pushed.

The heat of him pressed into me, and it was difficult to focus on our conversation with him so close, his scent enveloping me.

“Well…no. But that doesn’t mean they can’t.”

Again, that look of triumph. “And your parents—could they do it?”

“No,” I frowned.

“Were they surprised by your gift?”

“It’s rare.” I shrugged again, trying to remember if my parents had even spoken to me about the summoning. My tutors had known of it. They’d been the ones to teach me what summoning was, but had they told my parents? I shook my head. “I don’t know. If they were, they never mentioned it. My job was to be a dutiful princess and bear many selkie sons. No one really cared about my magic.”

Caspian nodded, frowning thoughtfully down at me and weaving our fingers together. “Try, Urchin. Sirens direct the wind in the same way that selkies direct the water. Ask the sky to do your bidding, just like you would the sea.”

“This is not going to work.” I frowned, and Caspian brushed a kiss to my lips.

“Try,” he whispered.

“Fine,” I sighed, closing my eyes. I tried to picture the sky like I would the sea, the air around us composed of currents and waves like the ocean. My awareness snagged on birds flying overhead, a storm in the distance to the east, a spot of rough air where the clouds floated overhead.

I blinked, surprised, as a phantom wind caressed my face and blew my hair in the opposite direction as the gusts that guided the sails.

A spout of seawater from Phyll expressed his approval of my new magic as I sent it to ruffle Caspian’s feathers.

“Told you,” Caspian murmured, pride swelling in his tone. “With practice, you might be able to use it in your fighting too. Defend yourself with shields of wind.”

“Do you think I could fly?” I asked excitedly.

Caspian smiled, running a hand down my bare back. “Not without wings, my love. But I think you could do almost everything else.”

“And what about you?” I asked, excitement flooding me at the possibilities of this new magic. “Can you will the sea to do your bidding?”

“Not like you can,” Caspian replied, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around me. “I think that particular power goes one way only.”

“Why?” I looked up into his golden eyes. “If this is because of our mating bond, shouldn’t you have new magic too?”

Caspian kissed me, sending heat shooting up from the toes of my boots. “I think the bond has heightened your ability. I think my powers may be stronger too, but not over sea. She’s your domain.”

“Why?” I pushed. “I know there’s more to this theory of yours. Tell me.”

“I will,” he promised. “But I need to confirm something first. With Theia.”

“And who is she, exactly?” If he’d mentioned this person before now, I struggled to remember it.

“She’s…complicated.” He put an arm around my shoulders as he guided me away from the rail, our experiment clearly over. “She has gifts. Sight. She knows things only the gods know.”

“How?” I asked, feeling like my life was almost entirely composed of questions rather than answers. “Why are you being cryptic?”

Caspian stopped, sighing as he looked down at me. “Her gifts are due to her past, which is her story to tell, not mine. But I promise, Urchin, as soon as we’ve dealt with the Stormcrow, I’ll take you to her.”

“You know, you make a lot of promises,” I teased, crossing my arms over my chest.

Caspian grinned. “And I’m very, very good at keeping them,” he murmured, brushing his lips against my ear as he pulled me close. “Finish your tea, Urchin, and I’ll gladly show you.”