Leading Aegis

Chapter 17

Ophelia stood on one side of the infirmary table, looking into the coal black eyes of the veltis on the opposite side. It was the largest creature she could summon in the small cabin, and though the species did anything but put her at ease, she’d had it summoned for the last three hours. At first it had been easy to keep it corporeal and under control, and watching it clumsily sweep the floor with a broom had made the ugly creature far less intimidating. But her stamina waned as more and more time went on, until she stood across from it with a bead of sweat tickling her temple.

It wasn’t just about summoning a creature. It may have shared her breath, but it was still a veltis, and if she grew too tired and lost control of the monster before dispersing it, then it would try and tear her apart as any veltis would. And she couldn’t tell anymore if she was sweating because of the exhaustion or the threat, but she was holding out for as long as she could.

She might’ve been able to last another thirty minutes if not for the knock on her door, and she quickly dispelled the shadow-like creature right as the door opened and Carolina walked in.

Carolina closed it behind her and stopped, looking her up and down with a frown. “Are you alright?”

She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and nodded. “I was just practicing magic, working on getting my stamina back to where it needs to be.” Ever since she’d been using magic regularly again, she could feel the drain of Carolina’s curse, and she needed to exercise her reserves if she ever hoped to do anything more useful than heal the occasional wound .

“Don’t wear yourself out too much,” Carolina said, stepping forward to lean against the table, “you’ll need your strength when we go into dragon territory.”

“Are we almost to Trayward?” she asked excitedly.

“We’ve just spotted it in the distance,” Carolina answered, and absentmindedly picked up the piece of paper that was on the table. It was the letter from Lia, and when she realized what it was, her eyes skimmed the list as she asked, “You’re sure you have everything else you need?” But before Ophelia could answer, she read, “A significant item?”

“I have it,” Ophelia told her, lifting her hand to play with the chain around her neck but managing to stop herself before it got there. “I have everything but the laibralt.”

“What is it?” Carolina asked.

She waved her hand dismissively. “Just… something that has significance in the context of the curse. Don’t worry about it.”

But that wasn’t enough, and Carolina just stood there, staring at her curiously and finally saying, “I’m going to see it when you try the spell. What could it possibly be?”

Ophelia sighed heavily and reached into her shirt, pulling out the ring at the end of the chain. She held it up, the ring sitting crooked on the tip of her index finger as Carolina’s face fell.

“Oh,” Carolina whispered.

The longing on her face and the budding moisture in her eyes made Ophelia’s chest ache, and she quickly dropped the ring back into her shirt. “See?” she said, taking in the deepest breath she could to steady herself. “I have it all taken care of.”

Carolina’s eyes lingered for several moments more at where the ring had disappeared, and then she lifted her gaze to send another wave of sorrow through Ophelia’s chest. “Ophelia,” she murmured, “I-”

“Don’t,” Ophelia pleaded. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Carolina said. “Please, you have to let me explain.”

“I don’t need you to explain,” she said, “it makes no-”

“I didn’t have time,” Carolina said quickly. “They were leaving.”

“Stop.”

“The morning I left you,” she continued, “I didn’t have time to come and tell you. I told them I was staying, and they would’ve left without me, and I know I never should’ve made promises I couldn’t keep, but I didn’t have time to make it right. I didn’t have time to-”

“ You had time , Carolina,” Ophelia interrupted hotly. “You had months to-” She stopped as she almost choked on the lump in her throat, and shut her eyes against the hot tears rising in them. She stood like that for several seconds, swallowing down the fresh agony and making sure her eyes would be clear when she opened them again to focus on the surface of the table. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Please,” Carolina begged, “say it.”

She sighed, and as badly as she wanted to keep it in and not say it, a bigger part of her couldn’t resist. “I waited,” she whispered, finally looking at Carolina and managing what she hoped looked like anger. Or, at the very least, annoyance. “For a letter. For an explanation. I stayed hurt but hopeful for months before I let you break my heart, and I don’t want an explanation anymore. I don’t need it. What I need is for you to stop dredging up the past when this entire spell relies on the past being settled. Do you understand?”

Carolina’s lips pursed as she nodded, and she said, “I just need you to know that I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Ophelia said, “and I accept that.”

And she meant it. She’d healed from the hurt of Carolina leaving enough that she truly had been happy to see her again. For a few brief moments after her rescue, she thought everything was going to be fine. She thought she’d be safe. Only, it wasn’t true. Because Carolina was still cursed, and it was the curse that kept pulling them back. The curse that kept them from moving on and truly being fine. But that was her own fault, wasn’t it? She shouldn’t have toyed with that kind of magic, especially not when she’d been so early in her curse training. And now…

She shook her head. She shouldn’t be thinking about it. If any of this was going to work, then she needed to not think about it. Not about Carolina leaving. Not about the feelings she’d had when she’d placed the curse. And certainly not about any of those feelings that had stuck around.

“Do you need me to do anything to help prepare?” Carolina asked.

“No,” she answered. “Do we have a plan for finding laibralt?”

“I’m hoping Kala may know where to start.”

“I want to see it,” she said, heading toward the door with an excitement that had persisted despite their conversation.

Carolina followed her out the door, and she hurried to the bulwark near the bow of the ship to peer over. They’d been so steadily lowering toward the surface over the last few days that she hadn’t realized just how hot it was till she leaned over. Or maybe it had more to do with the fact that they were only suspended a thousand feet over a lava lake, but as she leaned over the bulwark, her face was hit with a wave of heat that made her squint. She stopped looking down and followed the point of the bowsprit toward Trayward, taking in a small gasp when her eyes finally landed on it.

Carolina’s description of the town had tempered her expectations of it, but it was still bigger than she imagined. All the buildings were taller than usual, with arches reaching toward the narrow roads. The structures were made of colorful bricks that were crafted from all types of lava stone, with similar stone roofs, and some of them were raised with such beautiful rock that they glittered in the sunlight. It was a stark contrast to the dark lava rock buildings she’d been expecting. Even the roads weren’t as dark as she’d thought, as they’d simply been carved and further worn into the surface with use, with all the colorful swirl of natural formation still in place.

Several ships were hull-settled at port as they arrived, unloading fresh goods from other islands and carrying the crates to waiting merchants and shop owners at a warehouse so old that the bricks were faded and weatherworn. But greater than all of what she’d seen so far was that Trayward was much, much greener than she ever would’ve expected. She’d heard of oases on the surface, but had never been close enough to see one for herself, and she was awed by the flowering cacti and plethora of desert trees and shrubs. She was so entranced by how beautiful it was that she hardly paid attention as the ramp was lowered and she followed Carolina off the ship. It didn’t seem at all like the home of the hardened surface folk she’d heard of, and appeared far more hospitable than the rest of the surface, which was no small feat.

“First time on the surface, right?” Berkeley asked from behind her. She turned around with a nod, and he looked over her shoulder at Carolina and said, “We got to get her some pokeweed milk.”

“And some innestew,” Rue added.

She didn’t know what any of that was, but her eyebrows rose as she turned a pleading look on Carolina.

“Fine,” Carolina laughed. “If we find Kala first, then we can go to market and get whatever you want.”

All three of them nodded and followed Carolina away from port and into town. It was hard for Ophelia to keep up what with how distracted she was by everything. Very few of the permanent structures were made with any type of wood, and even when they were, it was just window casings and doors. Canopies were strung between buildings on either side of the narrow road to aid the buildings’ arches in shielding people from the heat of the sun, even though the warmth still radiated off the stone.

They trailed Carolina along shaded streets, but the longer they walked, the less good the shade seemed to do. The sun was beaming overhead and beating through the canopies, and Ophelia had a trickle of sweat going down the middle of her back as more dampened her forehead.

She wondered if the heat was why they passed by increasingly fewer people, until Berkeley finally complained, “Carolina, I’m melting over here. We should take the hint from the locals, huh?”

“Good time for pokeweed milk,” Rue suggested, and Berkeley gave his enthusiastic agreement.

“We’re almost there,” Carolina told them, swiping the back of her forearm across her forehead. “I think. Then the heat of the day will have passed by the time we’re done.”

Berkeley and Rue both grumbled, but Carolina pressed on, and so they did too. She was right, anyhow, it was only another five minutes before they were standing outside an unassuming building that was one of a few around a beautiful garden courtyard. Carolina knocked hardily on the door, and they waited several long moments before the door swung open to a disheveled looking woman with a child hanging off her back. The woman was middle-aged, and pretty in a friendly and graceful way, with laugh lines and crow’s feet as if she’d only ever known a joyful life. She had dark brown eyes, light brown skin, and long wavy black hair that was tied low behind her head and left to drape forward over her right shoulder.

When she saw that it was Carolina at the door, her face lit up. “Well, well, well,” she beamed, and leaned to glance out and up toward the sun before waving them in. “Come, come, you’re crazy being out this time of day.” They shuffled through the door one by one, sighing with relief at the fact that it was at least thirty degrees cooler indoors. “Berkeley, my love!” she exclaimed, peeling the child off her back and murmuring for him to go to his brother so she could give Berkeley a proper hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Kala,” Berkeley cooed, “I missed your hugs. ”

“Well, here’s another,” she said, squeezing him tightly again. She let him go and looked at Rue, eyes scanning her up and down and then looking at Carolina and back again. “You must be Rue. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Rue said, returning the hug that Kala gave her.

Then Kala finally looked at Ophelia, and asked, “And who are you, beautiful?”

“Ophelia,” Ophelia told her with a shy smile, holding out her hand.

As Kala took her hand to shake with her, Carolina added, “Parker.”

It took a moment, but then Kala said, “ Oh ,” in the most intrigued way Ophelia had ever heard. She looked sideways at Carolina and then down at the manacle, and then turned an even more curious look back on Ophelia. “Interesting.” But in spite of it, she clasped Ophelia’s hand a final time between both of hers, said, “Well, you’re most welcome to my home,” and then patted the back of her hand warmly before letting go. “Are any of you thirsty?” she asked, motioning for them to follow. “I’ve got water and pokeweed milk in the saltpeter box.”

“I love you,” Berkeley sighed.

Kala laughed. “One pokeweed milk,” she said, stopping at the entrance of her kitchen to look at the rest of them.

“Please,” Rue said.

“I’d love one,” Ophelia agreed.

Carolina nodded and said, “Thank you, Kala.”

“Five pokeweed,” she said, motioning them to the table while she wandered to a stone box that was set at hip height on a brick stand on the opposite side of the room as the hearth. She lifted a lid that looked like clay-covered wood, and pulled out a blue terracotta pitcher, using her free hand to wipe off a layer of water on the outside of the pitcher and flicking it back into the box.

While she was busy setting matching cups in front of them and filling them with the cloudy white beverage, Ophelia took the opportunity to look around. She had no idea what marked someone’s wealth on the surface, but Kala appeared to be affluent. Her home was clean, and the floor was a polished black stone while the walls were the same cream-colored brick as the outside of the building — though the outer walls of the home, she now noticed, appeared thick, as if there was empty space between the inner and outer walls for insulation. The lower cabinets in the kitchen were a textured gray slate with beautiful marble tops, and white wooden shelves provided upper storage around the rest of the room .

Ophelia said ‘thank you’ when Kala poured her drink, and as she lifted it to her lips, asked, “How do you and Carolina know each other?” She took a gulp of the pokeweed milk while waiting for a response, but the sting of the cold beverage hit her throat instantly, and she barely managed to swallow before falling into a coughing fit over it.

Berkeley snorted with laughter into his own cup, and Rue laughed, “Oh yeah, it’s alcohol.”

“Thanks for the warning,” she croaked, patting her fist against her chest. “Good lord.”

Kala chuckled as she finished pouring her own cup and returned the pitcher to the cold box. “Sip it slowly,” she instructed, sitting down across from her, between Carolina and Rue. “It may take getting used to.”

“Oh, it’s very good,” Ophelia said, and took a much smaller, slower sip. It was sweet and floral, and just the slightest bit creamy to cut through the bite. “Strong,” she laughed, “but delicious.”

Kala smiled happily, and then answered her question with, “I was part of Sky Shadow’s crew, oh… what was it now?” She paused and looked at Carolina. “Eleven years ago?”

“Sounds right,” Carolina agreed.

“A pirate?” Ophelia asked.

“I know,” Kala said amusedly, “being a mother has made me look soft.”

“You were always meant to be a mother,” Carolina told her.

Kala nodded at that and teased, “Would you believe these kids are more ruthless than you lot?”

“I would,” Carolina laughed. “Speaking of kids, where’s their father?”

“Oh, he sailed out with a merchant crew a few days ago to pick something up from Red Isle.”

“Tas joined a merchant crew?” Berkeley asked in shock.

Kala looked at Ophelia and explained, “He used to pirate Nadine’s crew with us,” and Ophelia nodded gratefully. “No,” she answered Berkeley, and leaned in closer as though she didn’t want her kids hearing from the other room. “Trayward’s shipwright has been building ships for Freedom in Shadows. He makes runs for them sometimes when they need off-market supplies.”

“There’s rebel presence here?” Carolina asked.

“Very much so,” Kala said .

“But why here?” Carolina asked. “Why Trayward’s shipwright when Davar could have his own?”

“You know about Izaak?”

Carolina nodded. “We met him on Remigan.”

Kala’s face lit up. “Did you help stop the harvest? Were you there?”

Carolina gestured her chin toward Ophelia, “It was all her.”

“What you did saved the other islands too,” Kala told them. “News of Remigan carried, and the other islands fought back. I imagine Anseau is beside himself with that loss.”

“I couldn’t have done it without Carolina,” Ophelia murmured, blushing.

Kala passed her a proud grin and nodded resolutely, but Carolina said, “I can offer you some valuable information on that front. Though, share it at your discretion, as it seems Izaak is holding it close.”

Kala nodded earnestly, and so Carolina told her about Anseau’s curse, and how it was similar to hers and there were only five years left for Glasoro unless he gave up his power.

When she was done, Kala sat there staring at her with wide eyes, blinking slowly for several long moments before finally breathing, “Of course.” She leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “It all makes sense, then. Freedom in Shadows has been preparing for war. Izaak has funded the building of several dozen ships, half of them built here, by our own shipwright.”

“When does he plan to strike?” Ophelia asked, and though Carolina passed her an almost stern look for her clear desire to get involved, she didn’t protest aloud.

“I’m not sure,” Kala said with a shrug. “I’m not sure he knows exactly when either. It had seemed as though war was still years out, but once we heard about the harvesting, he urged the shipwright to finish as quickly as possible. That’s why Tas has been gone so often.”

Carolina hummed, and said, “I hope he isn’t risking too much with these runs.”

“It’s safe,” Kala assured her. “He’ll be sad to have missed you though.” Carolina nodded her agreement, and with the shift in conversation, Kala asked, “And you? As happy as I am to see you, I suspect you haven’t stopped by just to visit.”

“I need information.”

“Sure,” Kala said knowingly. “What kind? ”

“The local kind,” Carolina answered, and Kala’s head cocked with interest. “We need laibralt.”

Kala’s eyebrows shot up. “Laibralt? Well, that doesn’t… Collectors stop by for supplies and rest sometimes, but the laibralt itself never passes through Trayward… What could you possibly need it for?”

Carolina held up her wrist and then gestured to Ophelia. “We might’ve found a way to break the curse.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll tell you everything I can,” Kala said. “I’m not sure exactly where the Collectors search for it, but I know it’s somewhere northwest of here, probably half a day’s travel. If you wanted to know for sure, you could try and see the governor, she’d know — tell her I sent you. The group I’ve seen flies a schooner, but they likely douse the lights at night to avoid the other surface fauna.”

“So we should search for them tomorrow,” Carolina said, and Kala nodded. “And I think we will try and meet with the governor when we leave here.”

Kala nodded. “You should stay in tonight as well, once you get back to Omen. There’s been a nightwing about, and the hunting party hasn’t been able to find it yet.”

“Will do,” Carolina agreed.

But Berkeley asked, “Any bounty on its head?”

“Five hundred dominions,” Kala answered with a smile. “If you’re up to the challenge.”

Berkeley buoyed his eyebrows at Carolina, who laughed, “If you want to hunt a nocturnal monster at night, be my guest.”

“Rue?” Berkeley asked.

“Not a chance,” she told him. “Those things make my skin crawl.”

“We’re about to go into dragon territory,” he argued, “and you’re scared of a nightwing?”

“Our chances of actually seeing a blackfire dragon are slim,” she countered. “But all it takes is a nightwing to get a good grip on your arm and fwoosh,” she opened her hands outward, “you’re carried away and eaten.”

“Rumor is this one’s big, too,” Kala added.

“See?” Rue said, gesturing at her.

“Fine,” Berkeley groaned.

“Anyway,” Carolina said, “we just need to find the Collectors and see if they’ll point us in the right direction, then? ”

“If you’re lucky,” Kala answered. “I’m not sure how you’ll get them to tell you anything, but you are Carolina Trace, after all.”

Carolina chuckled, “We’ll find a way.” Then she changed the subject and asked, “How are the boys?”

They finished their drinks over the next half an hour while catching up and making small talk, but before long, the heat of the day was past, and Carolina’s wrist was noticeably beginning to hurt. Ever since Remigan, Ophelia had started to watch for it whenever they left the ship. Carolina hid the pain well, but she clenched her fist when it started to get uncomfortable and massaged her forearm when it really started to hurt. They likely only had another hour until it became unbearable.

So they left Kala’s house and followed Carolina back in the direction of the docks, making a turn a few streets down to head toward the town hall. The buildings were still putting off some heat, but the sun was hidden behind the arches between buildings, and a gentle breeze blew across the tunnel-like roads to keep them comfortable.

The town hall wasn’t a particularly large building on its own, but walking up the short stairs to the building led to the large, beautiful open courtyard at its center. It was bordered on two sides by stone walkways and a wall, and at the back was the tall, narrow building where they were headed. Unlike the rest of Trayward, the plants in this atrium weren’t desert varieties. There were no cacti or shrubs. Rather, it was much like forests on middle islands, with full green ferns and all kinds of colorful wildflowers set around a massive old oak tree.

Carolina led the way into the building at the back of the courtyard, and they stopped inside the main entrance to look left and right at the doors on either side of the empty room. There was a large stone desk straight ahead of them too, but no one was at it. Carolina paced to the door on the right, knocked, and then pushed it open to poke her head in. She pulled it back out and shook it at them as she closed the door, and then paced to the door on their left to do the same.

“Hello?” she called.

“Oh, yes, coming,” a female voice responded from somewhere inside.

Carolina backed out of the doorway and let it close behind her, and a few moments later, a young woman emerged. She looked to be only a little older than Ophelia was. She had blue eyes, and her light brown hair was pulled up into a tight knot behind her head. Her clothes were plain — dark brown leather boots, black linen trousers, and a ruby red linen shirt with short sleeves rolled up past her elbows. The only unusual thing — as Ophelia assumed this woman to be some kind of assistant — was the dagger on her belt.

She smiled at them friendlily as she came out of the room and said, “Hello. Can I help you?”

“We’re looking for the governor,” Carolina answered, but trailed off at the end as she also seemed to notice the woman’s weapon, and asked jokingly, “You guarding all those documents in there?”

“Never know who’s going to stop by,” the woman laughed, “we get all kinds of unruly sort passing through.” She looked them all over for a few moments as if that sparked more interest in them, and then said happily, “You just came in on one of the new ships at port, didn’t you? What’s your name?”

Carolina didn’t seem to be able to help the confused look she passed back at the rest of them at the woman’s friendliness, and Ophelia stifled a smile. “Carolina,” she answered. “Carolina-”

“ Trace ,” the woman finished, and reached out to take Carolina’s hand, glancing only briefly down at the manacle. “It’s very nice to meet you, Captain,” she interrupted herself to point a finger at Carolina and teasingly remind her, “I’m armed,” and then laughed at herself for another couple seconds before adding, “and your ship is just beautiful. Who built it?”

“Pleasure…” Carolina said, shaking with the woman for a moment before asking politely, “And your name?”

“Vana,” the woman answered with a small curtsy.

“…It’s not my intention to be rude, Vana, but I’m afraid we’re in a bit of a hurry.”

“Of course,” Vana said with an understanding smile. “And I do apologize, but Governor Mobrit’s out at the moment.”

“Do you know what time she’ll be back?” Carolina asked.

She winced apologetically. “She didn’t say.”

“Do you know where I could find her?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t share that,” she answered. “You’re welcome to wait; she should stop by before the end of the day. Or, if you’d like, I can schedule a meeting with her tomorrow.”

“It’s urgent,” Carolina said. “Kala Bonte sent us.”

“Is Kala alright?” Vana asked.

“Yes,” Carolina assured her, “she sent us because she thought the governor could help. ”

“And I’m sure she would if she were here,” Vana said with an apologetic smile. “I can do my best to help in her place. Or I can leave a message for her and let her know she can visit you on Omen tonight if she deems it urgent enough.”

Carolina hummed and looked back at the rest of them for a few moments, and then finally asked Vana, “We’ve heard there are Collectors northwest of here, would you be able to point us in a more specific direction?”

Vana’s brow furrowed, and her demeanor seemed to lose some of its airy cordiality as her eyes canted again toward Carolina’s manacle, but it happened so quickly that Ophelia couldn’t even be sure if she’d really looked at it, or if she’d simply glanced downward in her curiosity.

“Collectors?” Vana repeated, and Carolina hummed. “It’s a bit unusual for a pirate crew to hunt laibralt, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps,” Carolina said, “but I assure you the amount we need is negligible.”

“I wouldn’t say any amount of laibralt is negligible…” Vana mumbled, but before Carolina could reply to that, she added, “I could point you in a more specific direction, but you must know that there is one very strict rule should you go into dragon territory.”

“I’m listening.”

“Should you make contact with a dragon, under no circumstances are you to return here before it’s lost your trail.”

“Of course,” Carolina agreed, setting one palm to her chest, “I swear it.”

Vana looked around at each of them for several more moments before asking Carolina, “You know Kala?”

“She’s a dear friend,” Carolina answered.

“Alright,” she said. “I don’t believe it’s the season for laibralt hunting, but I’m pretty sure the Collectors stay with the Iron Sands between hunts.”

“Nomads?” Carolina asked.

Vana nodded. “West northwest of here. Maybe about two-hundred and eighty-five degrees. Eighty miles or so, last I heard.”

“Thank you, Vana,” Carolina told her, extending her hand. “Thank you very much.”

Vana shook with her, and as the rest of them followed Carolina out, called, “Good luck! ”

As they reached the courtyard, Rue asked, “What the hell is a season?”

“Maybe they only drop laibralt during certain times of the year,” Berkeley suggested.

All three of them looked at Ophelia while they walked, and she laughed, “I don’t know anything about dragons.”

“Last call on nightwing hunting,” Berkeley announced.

“Don’t get yourself killed,” Carolina told him.

“Why?” he asked. “You’d miss me too much?”

“No,” Carolina answered, “because Otis is too young to be quartermaster yet.”

“Ha-ha,” he laughed dryly.

“I’d miss you,” Ophelia told him.

“ Thank you ,” he said, and mumbled teasingly, “at least someone cares.”

“You’re not seriously going, are you?” Rue asked.

He sighed. “Not if none of you cowards are coming with me.”

“We’re not,” Rue told him.

He didn’t take that as a solid ‘no’, though. The whole walk back to the docks he tried to convince any one of them to hunt the nightwing with him. Truth be told, Ophelia was tempted, especially if the creature was terrorizing the locals. The only reason she didn’t agree to go even if the others didn’t was because tomorrow they were going searching for dragon territory, and she needed to keep all the stamina she could in case they found danger. And so, she didn’t agree, and once they returned to Omen, she went into the infirmary to spend the rest of the night alone, because it wasn’t just her body that needed to prepare. Her heart needed it too.