Chapter 4 Isi
ISI
The boat cut through the big lake’s water with no visible means of propulsion, guided by a ferryman who sat in the back of the small craft, his weathered hands never touching an oar.
A small owl perched on his shoulder, its amber eyes fixed on me, winking in the late-day sunlight struggling to break through the mist. Everything about this journey felt wrong, from the magical way the boat moved through the water to the carefully constructed lies I’d used as I traveled.
It had taken me five days to reach the border of the Syllavar Court, and that was on one of the castle’s swiftest horses. By then, my back had dulled to a manageable throb.
Then I’d spent a week crossing the wasteland on foot after the animal bolted the first night I’d laid down to sleep on the edge of the vast swamp spanning the upper portion of this cursed place. By then, I could move without wincing inside.
I’d continued on foot after that, slogging through the mud until I emerged into the scruffy land beyond.
From there, traveling had been easier. I’d stopped to buy food at inns or small farms, carefully questioning those I approached.
That was how I’d learned the rebel stronghold lay in this direction.
“It’s on the island,” someone had said. “You’ll need to cross by boat.” Followed by, “Good of you to go, girl. We need new recruits with what’s coming.”
Battle with my father, I assumed. I needed to finish my mission and return swiftly to warn him that the rebels knew he was gathering an attacking force.
“You’re lean, but I’m sure you’ll do well in the trials,” the ferryman said, his craggy voice dragging across the open water of the lake around us.
“Trials?” Commander Thorne hadn’t mentioned them, but he’d only passed through this land once and didn’t know much about the rebels.
“I speak of the Rite of Bonds, girl.”
“Isi,” I said in an even tone. I’d never felt like an Amarissa. Isi suited me better.
His scowl deepened. “You’re a recruit, aren’t you? That’s all that matters.” His gaze slid up and down my frame. “Your magic’s weak, but I can still feel it.”
My heart came to a standstill, and my head spun. He knew I had magic.
Carefully lifting my hand off the side of the wooden boat, I shifted my arm to let the blade I’d hidden beneath my sleeve slide down into my palm.
If he called out for someone to take me, I’d defend myself to my dying breath.
“Bond, and your magic will get better,” he said.
My spine jolted at his casual mention of magic. “What do you mean, get better?”
“That’s why you’re here, right?”
“Yes.” Relief edged my voice despite my effort to sound calm. At least he wasn’t calling for guards.
I settled on the hard wooden bench, sliding my knife back up into my sleeve and returning my hand to the side of the boat.
I’d hidden three more blades on my body, one in my boot, another sewn into the undergarment against my ribs, beneath my simple brown tunic. I’d tucked the third into the back of my pants.
“You mentioned a bond?” I asked.
“If you’re not here to enter the trials, I’ll turn the boat around and take you back to shore,” he growled.
“No,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I’m here for the trials.”
“It’ll be amazing.” The ferryman studied me with dark eyes that seemed to see through flesh to my bones. He shifted the leg he’d propped on the bench in front of him, his black pants riding up enough to show off a hairy ankle.
“I’m sure it will be.”
Rite of Bonds? I’d come here to infiltrate this court, deliver death, then leave. But if I had to enter some sort of trial to be allowed to stay, then I would. It might take time to find out who’d murdered Addie.
“Are there children here?” I asked, trying to sound casual while my heart bruised itself against my ribs. Reaching beneath my tunic, I cupped my sister’s pendant I wore all the time. “Groups of them. New ones.”
“Of course there are children here.”
“Where are they?”
“Where else but in the village homes?”
“And where are these villages?” After crossing long stretches of swampland, I’d only come across scraggly farms and once, a “town” that consisted of ten homes and an inn, plunked in the middle of the intersection of two dirt roads.
His stare stretched on long enough that I fought to remain still. Mae’s son was somewhere in this cursed wasteland, if he was still alive. I’d find him before I left this wretched place. Find them all and bring them home.
“The villages are far from here,” he said, flipping his long gray ponytail over his shoulder.
His owl flapped its wings before settling back on the man’s deep blue tunic.
I dropped the subject. The less I revealed my ignorance, the better.
A long, sinuous creature broke the water’s surface near the boat. Then another. Inky shapes slithered through the depths, too large to be ordinary snakes. One rose close enough that I yanked my hand away from the side of the boat, pressing it against my chest.
The ferryman shot to the side, making the boat rock and me grab onto the bench. Was I actually safer with the scaled water creatures or him?
He sent a glare at the beasts churning across the surface. “Behave!”
One flicked its tail, sending a spray of water across the boat. The ferryman lifted his hand and shot a tiny bolt of lightning from his fingertip, striking close to one of the creatures.
They sank fast and bubbles erupted from the water before it went still.
“Did you hurt them?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure why I cared.
He huffed. “They like it.”
The casual display of magic made my belly flip over. From what I’d seen so far, magic wasn’t forbidden or scorned in the wasteland. And I hadn’t run into one person who appeared to have been sucked into madness. But maybe they locked those people away when it started to happen.
Or gave them a “benevolent” end like in my court.
“You strong, girl?” he asked, dropping back onto the bench seat, turning his unsettling gaze my way.
“Enough.”
I’d only told Commander Thorne where I was going. He’d tried to stop me. Tried to insist I take a full guard. As if the rebels would let me enter their court and dispense justice with a contingent of soldiers milling around me?
I’d told my father I was traveling to one of the northern courts to get to know their eldest son for a possible marriage match.
My father had already suggested such a thing, and he’d insisted on a full guard when I departed.
I snuck away from them the third night after we left for Noctvale Court, stealing the swiftest horse and leaving a note telling them I’d decided to enter a cluster, a sisterly religious group who were notoriously unwilling to share details about the women who hid behind their walls.
Before my father could determine exactly where I was, I’d be back, victorious after finding revenge.
The ferryman stroked the owl’s spine, and it preened, its gaze still fixed on me. “Listen up, because I don’t share often with those who come here.”
Why me then?
“Use your feet and hands when it counts. Despite what you’ll see, no weapons are allowed. When they offer things, take as much food as you can carry. A flask for water too. It’s potable everywhere inside.”
“That’s good to know. Thanks.” What was he talking about?
“No weapons from here on out unless they’re handed to you for training. That’s the rule and you’ll survive longer if you obey it.” His gaze lingered on my body, long enough I started to twitch. “I hope you’re not armed now.”
“Where would a woman like me get weapons?”
He grunted. “Same place as everyone else. And don’t assume they’ll bond with anyone. Behave yourself, and you might live long enough to find your match.” The mist began to clear ahead of us, revealing uneven shapes in the distance.
Late day sunlight burned off the rest of the fog, exposing our destination, an enormous island with a castle dominating the center. As I stared, I nearly forgot how to breathe.
The castle rose at least six stories into the sky, its spires piercing the clouds like accusations. Stone bridges arched between towers, and banners snapped in the wind at the peaks of the towers.
Where was the rebel camp, the rough shelters, and the desperate hovels I’d imagined?
This fortress could house hundreds of people.
It must’ve taken decades to build. Generations, even.
The elaborate stonework and the sheer wealth displayed in every carved detail stunned me.
How had my father’s spies missed something this impressive?
No one in our court had ever mentioned that the wasteland swamp held a kingdom that could rival our own.
My belly spasmed. If the rebels had resources like this and commanded this kind of power, what chance did my father’s forces have when they came for revenge?
The boat pulled up to a long wooden pier with a ladder leading up to the top surface.
Other similar crafts moved through the water around us, carrying passengers toward the same area.
Men and women of all ages, all wearing the same expression of nervous determination, disembarked, striding along the pier toward the shore.
“Good luck,” the ferryman said, waving for me to get out. “Hope you make it long enough to bond with a good one.”
“Thank you.” I stood and grabbed onto the ladder.
He gave me a brisk nod. “Off my boat, now. Go with the others. Remember. Food and water only. I mean it.”
“Right.” I climbed up, the hem of my too-long, stolen guard uniform tangling around my boots, nearly making me fall back into the water.
The ferryman had eased the boat away from the pier and was heading back across the lake, perhaps returning to shore to collect his next passenger.
Looping my bag over my shoulder, I joined in with others striding along the pier and taking a wide dirt path that slowly slanted upward, aiming for the imposing castle entrance ahead.
Some stared at the ground, shuffling their feet, while others gaped at the castle like me.
I craned my neck, marveling at the carved stone dragons mounted above the entrance that seemed to writhe in the shifting light.
My pants snagged, jerking me off balance.
I pitched forward, catching myself too late, colliding with something solid and warm. The impact made my wrist blade shoot into my palm and stab forward.
It hit flesh and sank deeply.