Chapter Twenty-Seven
I have heard more than once from contemporaries on the mainland that fear of pirates keeps them from making the crossing to Akeisa. While the occasional mercenary or smuggler does venture into the Ice Queen’s Strait, they are easily dispatched by regional patrols.
I suspect what the citizens of the Empire truly fear is the crew of the legendary Kraken. So let me be the first to assure you: there are no confirmed reports of that notorious pirate ship being spotted anywhere near the coast of Akeisa.
Akeisa: A Contemporary Guide
by Guildmaster Klement
Einar had practiced this speech in his head.
He’d spent a great deal of time trying to choose the right words, words that would convince the crew of the Kraken to flee this island without implying that he doubted their courage or their fighting prowess.
It had been a masterful speech, especially for a man who had never had a way with fancy words.
He got all of three words out before a wide-eyed Silvio cut him short by jabbing a finger skyward with a startled cry. “Dragon!”
For one startled moment, Einar wondered if the High Court had found out about Sorin and arrived to do battle.
But the dragon swooping over the bay from the direction of the rising sun was not colored in the familiar deep reds and fiery oranges of the Dragon.
Nor did it have Ash’s practiced grace. Poisonous green wings streaked with slate gray flapped with no subtlety, as if it had only recently learned to fly.
The dragon soared overhead, casting terrifying shadows. It was easily twice the size of the ship—bigger than Ash, even. When its jaws opened in a furious roar, it bared teeth longer than Einar’s arms.
Heat rippled through the air, a whisper of warning before fire exploded from the dragon’s mouth. It rained down in a wave of destruction that set part of the docks on fire.
Shit.
Einar turned back to the stone-faced crew, and even knowing it was pointless, he had to try. “I was going to ask you all to leave. I don’t suppose you would take the ship and go?”
Brynjar’s stern expression broke into a grin. “Even if we tried, the ship would just bring us back to her captain.”
“And none of us would try,” Nusaiba said firmly. The cartographer crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. “You know better.”
Yes, he did.
At her side, Silvio stroked his chin. “It’s one little dragon. I’ve always wanted to fight a dragon.”
“It’s not going to be one dragon,” Einar ground out.
“If Sorin is back, he’ll be wielding the power of the Void this time.
And he’ll have undoubtedly brought what he deems to be an overwhelming force.
This is a war between gods.” He made his voice deliberately harsh.
Dismissive. “Mortals have no place in it.”
Brynjar’s wife rolled her eyes. “He really thinks that’s going to work. On us.”
Einar couldn’t help the wry smile that tugged at his lips. It would have been nice if his newly awakened memories of the storm god’s endless centuries of living had granted him some deeper wisdom or clever words that might have swayed his crew.
Then again, Theron had been a creature of whim and impulse with no connection to humanity until Naia had come into his life. Even after she was gone, when he had watched over her people, it had been to honor the promise he had made to her.
Theron had never felt the way that Einar felt about his crew—the duty of leadership twined with the affection of family. And that was what the crew of this ship was. His family.
Of course they would not abandon him.
“So be it,” he said, making no effort to hide his affection and pride. “Arm yourselves, and we’ll remind these interlopers why their Empire has feared the crew of the Kraken for two thousand years.”
Raucous cheers rose as they raced for armor and weapons.
Einar took that precious moment to let his gaze scan the madness on the docks.
Workers were already fleeing—some into small dinghies or onto the decks of ships that were hastily raising sails, others by diving directly into the icy harbor water.
Too many buildings were already aflame, the smoke making him despair of finding Aleksi and Naia. For all he knew, they were still at the temple—
No, whispered a voice inside him, quiet and undoubting. Her people are in danger. She will be here.
It was Theron’s certainty, and his memories that told Einar what to do next.
He closed his eyes and focused on the air stirring his hair and the waves rocking the ship beneath his boots, and on the island itself—sand and rock and water and wind and every creature that walked upon it, soared above it, or swam around it.
Help me find her, he asked the island itself.
Rahvekya answered with a gust of that too-warm breeze that carried the sweet scent of tropical blossoms and memories of watching Naia weave flowers into her fire-gold hair. As Einar opened his eyes, that wind swirled past him, bending flames in its path and banishing smoke.
Everything inside him vibrated as he turned to follow its path, a maddening sensation that abruptly dissipated when he faced the village on the far side of the docks.
Colors sparkled on the sun for one breathtaking moment—the colors of power that he rarely saw without concentrating.
Naia’s stunning aquamarine, and Aleksi’s vibrant purple.
Inga’s vivid pink, and a diamond-sharp pale blue so icy it could only be Gwynira.
Isa was a glittering darkness at her side, and Arktikos the blinding white fury of a contained blizzard.
They were already forming a battle line, but the village behind them was in chaos. They would need help.
Petya approached the railing, her footsteps as familiar as his own heartbeat. He regretted that there had not been time to tell her—to warn her. Rahvekya was under attack again, and this time the storm god would not stand aside and let Naia bear the weight of protecting the island’s people.
“The village,” Einar told her, answering her silent question with calm command.
The crew had gathered behind him, so he lifted his voice and spoke his next words with the fervor of a vow—a promise to Petya, and Aggie, and to the island itself.
A promise to Naia, who would never admit how badly he had failed her three thousand years ago when he refused to see what she had truly needed from him.
“We get the people to safety,” he told them. “Whatever it takes.”
This time, the storm god was coming to the fight.