30. Thirty
Chapter 30
It was calmer below deck, out of the Etegen’s driving wind. Ozeri led us down a dimly lit wooden hallway, then pushed open the door to a study. It smelled like must and wood polish. Bolts secured a desk, chests, and cupboards to the floor. On the desk a map of the Protectorate was pinned in place. Just above it, through a porthole, I could see the ocean. The ship pointed north towards Montay, and we were on its right side, staring out at blue layered on blue.
“Wait here,” Ozeri said, and left the room. There was a click as the door shut.
“Kalcedon will be looking on the coast,” I realized out loud. We hadn’t stopped running since I’d woken up. Would he stop to scry if he didn’t find me fast enough? Was he already looking?
Feeling anxious and still only half-dressed, I dug my overskirt out of my bag and tied it tight around my waist as a hug.
“Friends of his?” Oraik asked. He looked a little ill. The prince gulped air and rested his hands on top of the desk.
“Those fairies? Of course not. Are you alright?”
“I don’t know,” he moaned.
“Are you sea-sick?”
“I’m just overwhelmed, maybe.”
Awkwardly, chewing on the inside of my cheek, I raised a hand and patted his shoulder. Oraik took a deep breath, seeming to find comfort in my awkward gesture.
“You need fresh air,” I suggested.
“Desperately.” But before I could suggest that we just open the porthole, Oraik headed for the door and grabbed the handle.
It didn’t turn.
“Did she lock us in?” Oraik said. He jiggled the handle harder. “Does she think I’ll try to run away?” His voice sharpened and rose in pitch with each word. The prince pounded his fist against the door.
It had to just be stuck, or stubborn. Ozeri hadn’t treated us like prisoners. With how outnumbered we were, there was no reason for her to fake good intentions before. She could have wrestled us down the stairs if she wanted to.
“Move.” I stepped beside him and reached for the door, then tried it myself.
As I placed my palm against the knob I felt a thrum of heat shoot through it, prickling my skin like cactus thorns. I jumped back and wrung my hand.
“What?” Oraik asked.
“Magic.” I tentatively pressed my fingers to the knob again, felt the sharp jab of pain, and let go. “We’re really locked in. Why?”
“You did just fight two faeries,” Oraik said. His voice was thin, and it looked like he was having trouble breathing. “And won.”
“But that was dumb luck. Breathe.” I pulled the chair out from the desk and pointed. He collapsed into it, and then buried his face in his hands. There wasn’t any magic on him. It was probably just panic. I knew how that felt, to be so overwhelmed.
“She doesn’t know that,” Oraik said. “Oh my Goddess. I don’t want to die. I don’t.”
“You aren’t going to. Kalcedon must be close.” It was well past first light, when he said he’d be arriving at Montay.
“I haven’t even seen Koraica. I haven’t seen anything!”
Strangely, his panic was keeping me calm, as if there was only space for one of us to worry at a time.
“Fairies,” Oraik whispered shrilly. He was looking out the small porthole. Two very large ravens were indeed headed our way, specks forming into dark shapes as they neared.
“Horns.” I ran to the door and pounded on it. “Hello? Can you hear me? They’re headed this way.”
Nobody answered.
“Ship’s turning,” Oraik said.
“They must have spotted the faeries,” I said, but now I was starting to panic, too. Even if the soldier-sailors on this ship were trustworthy; even if Ozeri just wanted to stop Oraik from running away, what would happen if the faeries bested the witches on the deck? The study felt suddenly too cramped, the porthole too small. It didn’t matter that we could never have outrun them. The need to run howled through my bones all the same. Impossibly, the room felt like it was shrinking in on me.
I doubted the nearby Cachian ship would be of any help. By the time they realized there was a battle happening on our deck, it would be too late.
“They’re going to kill me,” Oraik said.
“Quiet.” I could barely keep a hold of my own thoughts. I needed to figure something out, if we were going to survive this.
Faeries headed our way. A Colynes captain willing to lock us in the hold of her ship.
“They’re taking me to Doregall,” he whispered. “To the stone there.”
“We don’t know that.”
He slumped in the chair, face slack and defeated. The energetic prince I’d known had drained from his body, leaving only this deflated lump behind.
“I’m going to die a virgin,” he whispered. “Betrayed by my own father. Of course, he’s only finishing the job.”
“Please, Oraik… just let me think.”
If the faeries and the Colynes witches fought, maybe whoever won would be so weakened we could overpower them and escape. Or slip away. Or maybe the fight would buy us enough time for Kalcedon to arrive. Where was he?
I felt a flare of heat above. A spell , I thought at first, but it didn’t feel like a spell. It felt like… someone powerful. Two someones.
“They’re here,” I said, looking up at the ceiling above our heads. “The faeries.” Oraik gulped. I braced myself for an explosion of fighting above us.
“Meda?”
“What?” The cupboard doors were latched, but not locked. I tore them open and started rifling through the contents, looking for anything useful amid the reed pens and folded maps.
I don’t know what I was hoping for. There was nothing that could make my magic stronger. I found a single iron knife, but a dagger wasn’t going to do much good against two faeries and the war witches. I doubted even a key or lock picks would open a door sealed by magic. The porthole was a little too small for us to fit through. Not that it would be helpful if it were larger, since jumping into the Etegen was hardly a path to safety.
“I never kissed anyone. I don’t want to die, having… never kissed anyone.” Oraik clutched his head in his hands, rocking forward as he panicked.
“You have a very strange reaction to death,” I told him.
There wasn’t any fighting above us; no flare or shift of spellwork. It would have erupted immediately, I was certain, if they were enemies.
Did it mean the faeries and the Colynes were working together? I closed the cupboard and leaned my head against it, thoughts racing.
“Can I kiss you ?” Oraik asked.
“Mysteries. Get a hold of yourself.”
“Well, I might not get another chance to try it,” Oraik said mournfully.
If we didn’t escape, we were as good as dead. And I didn’t think we stood any chance of escaping without help. I didn’t know where Kalcedon was, but he might be looking for us in entirely the wrong place.
I had a lock of his hair. And I knew the spell I’d need. The problem was, I wasn’t strong enough. It would drain me, and if he was too far away, there would be no coming back.
Then again, if he didn’t find us, I was as good as dead anyways.
I stepped forward, grabbed Oraik by the shirt, and pulled him down. Rising on my tiptoes, I angled my face up and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“You aren’t going to die,” I told him, letting go of his shirt. “Sit down and stop talking. I am about to do something incredibly foolish, and if I don’t survive, you need to run the first chance you get.” I wrenched the porthole open. It was stubborn, and took all my strength; when it finally gave I nearly fell over backwards.
“You’re scaring me.”
“ Sit ,” I commanded sharply, and pointed at the chair. Hands trembling, he did as I asked.
Drawing sharp, shallow breaths—I was on the verge of losing all control myself—I sank down to the floor and dug into my bag for the lock of Kalcedon’s hair.
Setting it on the ground in front of me, I made quick gestures for the spell. Taloir, backed by Rhunen. Shift to Elezan. Add Polyin, Harrow, Leferin. Back to Rhunen , and the fifth sequence from Noktes. My hands flew. The spell formed. My body chilled, and the hair charred into ash with a horrible burnt smell.
Death took an interest in me and loomed in close. My eyes blurred as a silent wail tore through my being.
“Kalcedon?” I rasped. The wind was loud, wherever he was. I heard it whistling past my ears, a strange sensation when the air around me felt far too still. I heard the high-pitched chirp of a bird. “Kalcedon? Can you hear me?” I asked. My hands trembled. Magic spooled out of me, a thinning thread.
Ice set; veins slowed. Every cell of my body turned over itself, clinging desperately to the shreds of power I tore out of my body and poured into the spell.
The bird chirped again. Louder this time.
“Faeries attacked us.” A series of short, sharp cries pierced my ear. “Look for a shadow over a town. We made it to a Colynes warship just offshore from there.” Another chirp. “We’re locked below deck.” Only the wind, this time. No bird cries. “Please come quickly.” The wind was louder in my ear. “My heat’s gone. I’m going now.”
As I let go of the spell, one final high-pitched cry rang in my ears. He’d heard me.
A pain unlike any I’d ever known swallowed me whole. “Meda ,” I heard Oraik yell.
I collapsed to the floor.