Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Harper
I knew plenty of people who hunted, both growing up in Central New Jersey and as an adult. I just never had any interest in getting my food from anywhere besides the supermarket or a restaurant. Now, I’m standing on the deck of a ship in an alien land helping to dry meat so it will keep for the journey.
There was a moment just before I pulled my bowstring back that I considered not taking the shot. Then I thought about Tal and the other children. They have to be fed and cared for. I’m as responsible for their fate as any of the elves.
Once I made the kill, I struggled not to puke. I felt the life flow out of that animal. More than that. When the arrow struck, I felt a sharp pain in my chest and a flash of fear before peace and nothing. All I could do was thank that poor deer, and now honor her by surviving with the food she provided.
I cut long strips of muscle with my knife and drop them in a bucket of seawater. Someone else takes the meat to another bucket before hanging it to dry in the sun. A few weeks ago, I had Paul downstairs at the deli cooking most of my meals.
My mind drifts to my mother. I miss her. I know she’s safe and healthy now, but I miss her. She wouldn’t recognize me if she saw me today.
Aaran’s soft warm breath tickles my earlobe. “I think she’d be extremely proud of you.”
“Stop listening, or I’ll block you again.” It’s a scolding, but I can’t help loving that he’s here for me whether I’m distraught over a deer or thinking of my mom. The image of those three children and the dragons tries to press to the front of my thoughts, but I push it back. I don’t want to know the future unless it’s a guarantee we’ll survive the battle with the witch queen.
As I drop the last of the meat into the bucket, I step back. My hands are covered in blood, and my fingers ache from the unfamiliar kind of work.
Cara wraps an arm around me and leads me to a soapy bucket of water where I wash my hands and the knife. With her kind smile, she takes my still-damp hands between hers and closes her eyes. Her easy magic flows through me, like stepping into a hot bath and relaxing.
My muscles relax, and my pain subsides. “Thank you.”
Releasing my hands, she kisses my forehead and walks away.
The hot sun bakes down on me. I suppose it’s good for curing the meat, but I’m tired. I slip down the stairs to my cabin and strip off my sweaty clothes. In the small basin of water, I wash as best I can and pull the long white shirt over my head. It’s so big, there’s no need to unbutton it.
I climb into the bed and close my eyes. Visions of dragons and beautiful babies with green eyes and pointed ears fill my dreams. I never thought I’d want children, but now I’m not sure.
Part of me hears the cabin door open and close several times. I feel Aaran close, then farther away. The fragrance of warm spices and cooked meat wakes me.
Stretching long like a cat, I open my eyes. It’s dark outside the window but the cabin is lit by an unseen source that I assume is magic.
Smiling down at me, Aaran holds a steaming wooden bowl. “You should eat something.”
My stomach rumbles in agreement. Sitting up, I shake away the dreams. “It’s the first time I’ve slept without nightmares since the black castle.”
He sits beside me and hands me the bowl and spoon. “Maybe you were too tired for dreams.”
“I had dreams.” I eat the stew and avoid the fact that my dreams were focused on that same vision that caused our argument.
He blushes. “I see. Well, then better thoughts have taken the place of those horrors. I’m glad of that.” Toying with the hair that has escaped my braid, he kisses my temple.
There’s a lot of laughing and stomping above. “Everyone is fed and happy?”
“Yes. It’s quiet at sea, and we have enough food to get us home.” He pauses. “Well, it’s my home. So many people and still a long way to go.”
I finish the food and put the bowl aside. “We will make it. We have to.”
His gaze slips to the sheets. “I’ve been thinking.”
I search his gaze. He’s sour on whatever has been on his mind. “What?” I push his hand from my hair.
Letting out a heavy sigh, he stands. He’s too big for the small cabin, and one step brings him to the other side of the available space. “You and I have to get to Tús Nua. The fate of Domhan depends on that. It’s been long enough that we could portal there.”
“And leave these people behind?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“It’s too important that we get home, Harper.” He stares at me with his fists at his sides. “These people will be safer without you on this ship.”
It’s a lie. I feel it. “If that were true, you would have left them behind and there would only be a few of us aboard. She will come for them regardless of my presence. She’ll do it just to hurt me, and we won’t be here to protect them. No. I’m not leaving them.”
“You are more important than these people. You have to survive.” He leans over me, his arms on either side of me, pressing into the mattress.
I jab my finger in the center of his chest. “Aaran Riordan, look me in the eye and tell me that you believe one life is worth more than the next. Tell me that you’ll be able to live with yourself if these people die at sea and we survive. Can you know that they died on a journey we started together, and go on with your princely life?”
“I don’t have a princely life.” He moves away and leans on the inside of the door. “I have a normal life.”
“Answer the question.” I sit up, cross my legs and watch him. I feel the split in his thoughts.
“My duty is to you and your safety. I swore to the oracle to bring you back.”
“You swore to bring a human back to go to some gate and find a weapon. If I die, you’ll go get another girl. If I live and these people, who have protected me and given their magic to me, die because they were with me, I will not be able to live with myself. My answer is no. So, unless you plan to drag me through a portal against my will, this conversation is over.” I keep my gaze fixed on him.
The duality of his thoughts lessens. “I’m not convinced this is the right course, Harper. But I didn’t drag you through the portal in your motor vehicle building, and I won’t force you through one now unless all hope is lost to get all of us to Tús Nua.”
“Fine. Only if it’s a last resort.” I scoot back on the mattress. “Now, you can come to bed if you want.”
T he coast is beautiful from the deck of the ship. My lessons continue, with me landing on my ass more than on my feet.
Before lunch each day, Jax trains me in sword fighting. He doesn’t hold back, which I appreciate, as Venora and her soldiers, whatever form they take, will not worry about my skill level.
Jax looks fierce with narrowed eyes and tight lips. He’s as attractive as all the other elves, but there’s a hardness in him. If I had not seen him with his children, I would have thought him heartless. He brings his sword down.
I block the blow. The vibration of steel against steel jolts up my arm. My hand goes numb, and my sword clatters to the deck.
Glee shines in Jax’s eyes as he raises his sword for the kill.
Dropping to the deck, I roll out of the path of his blade.
His eyes shift to something ahead.
Whatever it is, it’s a boon to me. I sweep his leg.
The tall, proud elf falls to the hard wood with a resounding thud.
Grabbing my lost sword, I kneel on his right arm and point my blade at his exposed throat. As his eyes fill with shock at being bested by a mere human woman, joy fills me.
An instant later, he smiles. “Well won. I lost my concentration, and you did not.”
I stand and offer my hand to help him up. “It might be the only time I win one of our sessions, but I’m going to keep this feeling with me for the rest of my life.”
He looks from my face to my hand. Of course, he doesn’t need help. I haven’t injured him. Still, with a laugh, he takes my hand and rises. His attention shifts back to the distance ahead.
Gray smoke pours from the top of a large mountain.
“Is that a volcano?”
Fancor grumbles, “Bolcán.”
“It is a volcano.” Aaran’s lips are pulled into a tight line, and his jaw ticks. “It’s been dormant for hundreds of suns.”
“Going out on a limb, I’m guessing this is not a good sign.” The stench of sulfur tinges the air and I slip my sword into the sheath at my side.
Bert calls up to Beran at the helm, “Turn to starboard. Let’s give that a wide birth.”
Doing as he’s told, Beran shifts the boat to the right. “We’ve got half a day before we’ll reach Bolcán. If we go too far east, we get into dangerous waters.”
“If you’ve ever seen the sea boil, you know that’s plenty dangerous enough.” Bert goes to the upper deck and climbs the rigging to a crow’s nest. “I don’t see lava, but you can’t be too careful around an active volcano.”
With her hands fisted at her side, Nainsi watches her husband. “Bert used to make extra money fishing winters off the coast of Hawaii.”
I nod, but the others stare at her blankly. She says, “It’s a volcanic grouping of islands in the human world. He knows what he’s talking about.”
Jax grumbles, “So we have a choice between the boiling sea or the monsters of the forbidden waters.”
“You said that oracle magic keeps Venora off the western continent. Is that mountain erupting just a natural occurrence?”
Shaking his head, Aaran’s shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. “It’s possible, but unlikely.”
With an ugly laugh, Jax says, “It’s more likely that Venora has found a way past the oracle’s wards.”
“She’s gone through Ifreann. Demons down there are beyond her control. How could she have managed such a feat?” Fancor looks up at Bert. “Does the sea churn? Do you spy any serpents?”
Climbing down, Bert goes slowly and carefully. When he sets his feet back on the deck, he says, “Nothing looks amiss besides the mountain puffing smoke. Maybe Aaran is right, and it’s a natural occurrence. We could sail past without incident.”
My gut tightens. “It’s an awfully big coincidence for it to happen now, after hundreds of years.” The skeptic in me isn’t buying it. Venora is involved. I can feel her tainted magic like soured milk fouling the air.
Bert sends Jarnol to the lookout basket to report if there are any changes. We plan to give the mountain a wide birth, but not so far as to put us into the monster-ridden northern sea.
The smoke grows larger as day turns to night. The hint of orange brightens Bolcán’s peak. “That looks like more than smoke.”
Aaran is shoulder to shoulder with me at the rail. “This is not good. I don’t suppose I can talk you into going below?”
“Not this time.” I draw a long breath to steady my fear and call out, “Get below and hold on.”
Jarnol yells, “The sea is capping!” He points.
“Come down!” Bert orders the teen. “We’re close enough to see from the deck. Get below.”
Like a cat, he scurries down the rigging. “I can fight.” He rushes to the bow of the ship.
A rogue wave crashes against the side of the ship. We’re pushed farther away from shore as we list to the starboard side.
Dark clouds gather, and a downpour begins.
Wrapping my arm through the rigging at the port rail, I keep my feet on the deck and my eyes on the mountain.
Bert stumbles up the steps and relieves Beran at the helm. He spins the wheel, which turns us into the waves. Another wave comes from the rear and swamps the deck. Bert turns us again. “It keeps shifting. I can’t get out of the trough.”
Waves hit us from every direction, tossing the ship around like a toy in a bathtub.
A fifty-foot wave hovers over my head. I’m going to die right here. I hope someone lives and will tell my mother what happened to me. My father’s smiling face flashes in my mind.
Aaran wraps his arm around me.
Still hanging on to the rigging, I take a deep breath and hold it.
Bert screams, “Hang on!”
Water pummels my head. Darkness and cold salt prod at me, floating and being pushed and pulled in all directions. It reminds me of the portal. My lungs scream as I have no choice but to exhale. I hit the wood hard, ass first. Sputtering and gasping, I cough out seawater.
Miraculously we’re still upright. Coughing and scurrying comes from every corner of the ship.
Aaran’s soggy hair covers his face, and blood runs down from a cut over his eye. “Are you alright?”
I touch his cut. “I’m fine. You’re hurt.”
Wiping the blood out of his eye, he says, “It’s nothing.”
Bert gets us positioned so we’re cutting through the wave rather than sunken at the bottom of a trough.
The sea tries to gobble the ship, but we continue to shift east, away from the boiling cauldron of saltwater and magma.
An explosion shudders the world. My ears ring with deafening bang.
The top of Bolcán flies off and explodes in ash and fire. Dirt pelts the deck despite several miles of distance. Fire slithers down the mountain, first one way, then the other, cutting a path.
Sound roars back into my head. The way the lava moves is different from any movies or documentaries I’ve seen about volcanoes. Its progress is too specific. “Does that seem alive to you?”
Aaran stares at the lava. “I don’t think that’s magma. Kron. Demon! Kron!” he screams.
The lava snaps away from the land like a striking snake. At least a hundred feet long with a diamond-shaped head and two dark eyes, the kron opens its gaping mouth and shoots fire at the ship.
Jax holds up his hands and mutters. Water slices the air and forms a wall between us and the monster.
The kron roars and pulls back, ready to strike again. This time it shoots fire high, and the tops of the masts and sails catch fire. Flames and ash fall to the deck. Elves run around stomping out small fires.
Aaran casts a spell, and biting cold shoots from his fingertips up the masts and fights back the fire’s heat.
The kron slithers to the edge of the sea and rides the waves like a water moccasin. Even at this distance, the heat bakes my cheeks. My sword is useless. I don’t think an arrow will be of any use. I’m helpless to save these people.
Beside me, Jax grips the railing. His skin is pale. The magic he used must have been very strong to drain his energy. “Use what magic you have, Harper.”
“You said she’d find us. You said my magic needed to be honed.” I don’t even know what to do or how to summon a spell.
His voice is calm, and he looks me in the eyes. “She already knows where we are, and magical training can wait. Do what you do. Make your wish.”
I want to save these people. I came all this way to do the right thing. After everything we’ve been through, it’s unfair for us to fail now. The rush of power begins in my gut. Please let me destroy this demon and save these people. The hair on my arms stands up as my spine tingles with the rise of magic. Having no idea what will happen, I lift my hands and point them at the snake of fire cutting through the ocean toward us.
A shadow flows from my fingers, hovers over the kron, and wraps around it like a sleeping bag. Its screeching rents the air so loud my ears ring.
The shadow smothers the kron, which wriggles violently in an attempt to break free of my magic. A trickle of fire escapes to the sea, and my shadow leaps out like an amoeba and pulls the burning worm back in.
The demon shrieks and throws off the veil of my magic. Body coiled, its head rises and it snaps fiery jaws at us. Rearing back, it roars and shoots flames at the main sail.
In a second, the mast and sail are engulfed. Embers rain down, burning my arm. The acridness of burning hair mingles with that of rotten eggs. The heat is unbearable.
A wave of icy magic shifts the wind. It’s the witch queen’s magic. I’ll never forget the sting of it.
I command more, stronger magic to smother the kron. A blacker shadow forms around my fingers and expands. I pull my arms back and throw it at the demon like a fishing net.
Pushing and binding the kron, my magic tightens, feeling as though it’s tethered to a knot in my gut. I will the shadow to keep wrapping over and over, getting smaller with each round.
The screeching dies, and the fire within the shadow dims. The only sound is the rain pelting the deck.
Thank goodness. The shadow rises from the water, revealing an ashen snake dispersed among the waves. As the sea settles, the ashes sink until nothing of the kron remains. My magic fades until it’s nothing but a bit of haze that blows away in the breeze.
I let out the breath I’ve been holding and collapse to my knees. I guess even my magic has a price. Jax gets blurry while I try to tell him I don’t feel well.