Chapter 11 Caspia
Eleven
Caspia
Cap was the last man to board the Cirrina. He climbed a rope ladder as the rowboat that had ferried us all to this land was hoisted to the deck.
Once both were aboard, he walked to the stern and looked to the shore.
To Xandra.
She pressed one hand to her heart and stretched the other out at her side, her arm extended straight with her palm facing forward. Then she bent at the waist in a bow.
A Nelfinex farewell to a loved one.
Cap mirrored the gesture. Then he touched the center of his forehead with two fingertips.
Xandra did the same. “I vowed I’d fly across the ocean and find him when my ritus was done.”
“What did he vow?” I asked.
“To listen for the beat of my wings.” Her chin quivered as he turned away and strode across the deck for the helm.
I took her hand, holding it tight as we stood together, side by side on a narrow stretch of sand. With waves lapping at our boots, we watched as the crew raised the ship’s anchor. Tears dripped down her cheeks as the Cirrina’s black sails caught with wind.
Xandra sniffled, wiping her cheeks. “I cannot believe I’m crying over a pirate.”
“You’ll see him again.” I put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
“I hope so,” she whispered.
Cap had offered to stay, but Xandra had insisted he return to Kenn with his crew. He would only be a distraction for her ritus. And if by some chance it took her life, she did not want him trapped across the Marixmore, far from his home.
We reached this foreign land two suns ago.
The shore had been nothing but towering, rocky cliffs.
It had taken hours of sailing along the coast to find this stretch of sand.
By then, it had been too late to ferry over, so we’d spent a restless moon on the Cirrina, each person aboard anxious for dawn.
The crew had rowed to shore at sunup, the men armed with spears, knives, and harpoons, ready to defend against any attack. But all they’d found past the beach were lush green hills and a fresh stream to replenish their drinking barrels.
Once the crew had deemed it safe, Xandra and I had rowed over with Cap to explore.
I’d been ready to say farewell to the pirate and his crew, but Xandra had asked for one last moon. So while she and Cap slipped away to his quarters, I’d stood at the ship’s bulwark, staring at this strange place.
Was this where Emery had come with Max? Was this land home to the silver-eyed warrior? Was this where my sister had died?
Soon, we’d find out.
The Cirrina was well on its way to the horizon when I turned away from the sea.
The blades strapped to my arms and legs felt heavy as I trudged up the beach.
But there was a comfort in wearing them again, knowing they would keep me safe until the rite was complete.
The pack on my shoulders was stuffed as full as it had been when I left Nelfinex.
I walked in no hurry, enjoying the softness of boot sinking into sand, knowing Xandra needed a few more moments alone. By the time I reached the line of grass and started up a hill, following the stream, she was jogging to catch up.
The grasses beyond the beach were thick. Their green was so vivid it almost hurt my eyes, and stomping through the knee-high stalks was like wading through water.
“What is this place?” Xandra skimmed the stalks with her fingers. “It smells like nothing I’ve ever known before.”
I inhaled, holding the air in my nose. There were apothecaries in Showe with countless herbs and teas and oils and perfumes. But not once had I experienced a smell like this, cool and fresh and clean. Earthy, yet sweet. It lacked the spice and salt of Nelfinex.
“Do you think that since neither of us can feel the thrum any longer, now we’re supposed to follow our noses?”
“Maybe.” Xandra laughed, nudging my shoulder with hers.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yes.”
“So am I.”
Xandra took a step and tipped sideways, her shoulder crashing into mine before she caught her balance. “Vexx. Sorry. I am not used to walking on ground that isn’t swaying beneath my feet.”
“I feel unsteady, too.” My knees felt wobbly and my legs weak. The sensation was strange enough that I stopped walking, giving myself a moment to adjust. “We should find a shelter before the moons rise.”
“Where?” She shielded her eyes from the sun as she turned in a slow circle, taking in our surroundings.
The rolling hills of green were endless, stretching before us like another ocean.
“Where do you think we are?” I asked.
Xandra shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never read about a continent other than Azzon or Eliam.”
They were the two continents south of Kenn, both within a lune’s sail. Except we’d sailed north.
“This must be where the swift migrate.”
“If it is, Aunt Oleana is going to be livid when we get back.”
Starling did not do the forbidden without extreme consequence. But that was a worry for another sun. We were trapped here until we went through the shift. Our only escape was to change and fly home.
A shiver rolled down my spine as the hairs on my arms stood on end. A sense of dread I couldn’t explain made my stomach churn.
“Do we stay by the ocean? Or continue inland?” Xandra asked.
“Let’s follow this stream and see where it leads us.”
She nodded, then together, we set off through the grass.
We were dressed in matching pants and vests with our dark cloaks fastened around our shoulders. Xandra had left her curls loose while mine were fastened in a tight knot.
By the time the sun was directly over our heads, she’d pulled up her hair and we’d both shed our cloaks. The noise of waves crashing against cliffs had vanished, replaced by the swish of grass and the steady thump of our boots.
“My ears feel empty without the sound from the ocean.”
“Mine, too.” Xandra slowed to a stop and shook her head. “I can’t seem to catch my balance.”
“Neither can I.” I dropped my hands to my knees, closing my eyes. The unsteadiness of my feet only seemed to get worse the farther we walked. But I’d never spent time aboard a ship. It would probably just take a few suns for my body to adjust to being back on land.
Xandra let her pack swing off one shoulder, taking out a canteen of water for a drink. “Divine, I’m dizzy.”
“So am I.” My head was beginning to ache. “Do you think it’s the beginning of the ritus?”
“Maybe. If it is the start, do you think it will take long?”
“I hope not.” My hands trembled as I took out my own canteen.
Each ritus was different, an experience unique to every Starling.
Emery told me once that she’d never been more scared than the sun she left for her ritus. But that was the point of this rite. We left alone so that we could give in to the fear and anxiety.
The ritus called so that it could eventually break us down.
We were stripped of our comforts and finery, drawn into the unknown, where we learned to embrace the fear. We let it transform our bodies into something powerful. Something fierce and bold.
The Starling could shapeshift into any beast of their choosing, though most chose the swift.
Not only were they beloved and beautiful, but there was no creature in the world with as much might.
The massive birds were gentle, affectionate, intelligent beings.
And the Divine had gifted them with bodies of size and strength unmatched by any other.
But transforming into such a large animal came at a cost. Before we could take on the shape of a swift, we must endure agony.
Saskia warned me that the pain of the first shift was excruciating and slow. She said it felt as if her entire body was being turned inside out. Thankfully, it got easier after the first time, and after a few shifts, the pain became nothing but a brief pinch.
Xandra and I were no strangers to pain. Quiescents were pushed, both mentally and physically, with their training regimens so that our bodies were strong enough for the shift, our minds sharp enough to control the beasts we’d become.
“I’m scared of how much it will hurt.” I was scared that I wouldn’t survive it.
She put her hand on my shoulder. “By the grace of the Divine, give us the rite.”
“By the grace of the Divine, turn us true.” I finished the Quiescent prayer, then spun in an easy circle, gaze sweeping the surroundings.
Far in the distance, the green came to a stop, the hills giving way to a line of tan cliffs. But there wasn’t a sign of other people. Of a city or township. “It’s so…empty.”
“Where are all the people?” Xandra shielded her eyes with a hand, scanning the hills.
Showe was the largest city in Nelfinex. Every ten or fifteen summers, the wall was expanded to make more room for homes and buildings. Beyond the wall, towns dotted the countryside. On any road, in any direction, a person could walk from one town to another in less than a sun.
This place seemed entirely void of people.
“Let’s head toward the cliffs and see if we can find a place to make camp,” I said.
We filled our canteens in the stream, then set off for the cliffs. As they drew closer, the foliage became thicker, forcing us to weave past bushes and trees.
My pack got snagged on a branch, and as I tugged it free, another branch smacked me in the face.
“Gah.” I drew my kukri and hacked it to the ground.
Xandra was short of breath, sweat dripping down her temples as she leaned on a tree trunk. “Thank the Divine we’re almost there. My head aches.”
“Just a little farther.” I pushed on, taking the lead. Every step felt like my body was betraying me, expecting the motion of waves instead of unmoving dirt and grass.
A clap of thunder rolled from the rain clouds gathering, covering the sky in a haze of gray.
“We need to find shelter before it rains.” The words were no sooner out of my mouth than the clouds burst, drenching our clothes, plastering the fabric to our bodies.
“Vexx,” my cousin and I said in unison.
Water dripped from my hair and down my face, getting in my eyes and mouth, as we pressed on. The drops pelted my head and shoulders, and the next boom of thunder was so loud I flinched.
“Caspia,” Xandra shouted over the noise. She pushed her soaked curls out of her face and pointed to the cliffs. “Is that a cave?”
I followed her finger, squinting as I searched. A dark arch marred the otherwise light-colored rock.
Please, be a cave. We shared a nod, then changed direction, hurrying through the trees. The closer we got, the larger the opening loomed. Definitely a cave. It sat above a crumbling heap of boulders and fallen rock.
They shifted and slid as we climbed, the rain making solid footing nearly impossible. But finally, I made it to the top, reaching back to help Xandra crawl inside.
“Divine,” I whispered, taking the satchel from my shoulders and letting it drop to my feet as I stared up at the towering ceiling.
The stone was a yellowish brown, like the cliffs outside. The cave was as wide and tall as the palace’s grand vestibule. The scent of dank rock filled my nose as I took in the odd statues around us. It was as if the stone had liquefied, melting into piles, like candlewax before it hardened.
From the ceiling, cones and columns narrowed to tapered points, each dribbling water. The same cones covered the cave’s floor, pointing upward.
“Teeth,” I said. “It’s like this cave has teeth.”
And each tooth had a mirror. Each column on the ceiling dropped water onto its counterpart on the floor.
Where the columns met against the cave’s walls, they formed a lattice maze, almost like twining roots and branches.
“What is this place?” Xandra asked, her voice echoing in the dark space.
“I don’t know.” I touched a fingertip to a column, testing its slick, smooth surface. “But I think we should stay in here until the rain stops.”
Outside, it continued to pour in a thick sheet.
“We won’t be able to light a fire,” Xandra said. “It’s too wet in here and out there. I doubt our clothes will dry, either.”
“Probably not.” I sighed, stripping off my cloak. I scrunched it into a ball to wring out the water. “Emery once told me that her ritus was misery and anguish.”
Xandra laughed. “Well, then I guess we’re doing it right.”
“I guess so.”
Let the ritus begin.