Chapter Six #2
Salt soon filled his nose as they thundered along the dirt track. The ground had grown rockier, the trees sparser. The wind chilled his cheeks as they reached the rocky shore, a fine mist swirling. Jem forced himself upright, blinking at the fierce animal waiting.
The boar’s lethal tusks curved upward, the wooden head adorning the ship intricately carved. The vessel was anchored with its port side to shore, rocking in the white-capped waves of the Askorn.
Jem had only seen small, white-sailed skiffs bobbing lazily on the sea at the south end of Neuvella. There, clear water reflecting the turquoise sky lapped at soft, white sand beaches. Here, the gray sea roiled furiously, waves crashing loudly on the shore.
“This sea shall swallow us whole!” Jem hadn’t meant to speak aloud.
Cador barked out a laugh. “It just might.” He hopped to the ground, then thumped Jem down on his feet on the hard, rocky sand.
Jem forced a step on stiff legs. A group had apparently stayed behind with the ship, and they called out from the flat deck.
A single mast towered midship, its brown sail thick and coarse.
Under iron skies, Jem clutched his muddy cloak around him and watched as they rowed cargo to the ship in smaller boats. He hadn’t been able to spot his trunk, although he’d been too afraid to look through the carts lest he anger the others.
He tried to accept that he was likely separated from his books for the first time since he’d been able to read. The loss rivaled being parted from his family, although he assured himself it was understandable when it came to Pasco and Locryn.
The wind whipped colder than he’d ever felt, and Jem clutched his too-thin cloak around him. Footsteps approached, and Delen asked, “Ready for the voyage?”
“No.” Jem didn’t see the sense in lying.
She laughed, her white teeth gleaming in contrast to her smooth, dark skin. “Can hardly blame you. Your clothes won’t do. Didn’t they pack anything more practical for you?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen my trunk.” Hope flared. “Do you know where it is? Did they bring my things?”
“I’ll find out.”
“Really? Thank you!” Jem was filled with such gratitude he could have hugged her. “I was hoping my books were packed for me.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “Books won’t fend off the cold, Prince Jowan.”
“No, but…” He wanted to say they’d warm his heart, but didn’t.
“Suppose we could always burn the pages for heat if need be.”
He gasped. “No! Please, I beg you.” He gripped her arm.
“Calm yourself—it was a jest.” She frowned. “Cador warned us you have no sense of humor.” With a thump on his back that almost made him stumble, she added cheerfully, “We’ll toughen you up. Ergh will do you good.” With that, she strode off.
Jem squinted across the waves. He’d hoped to see the shadow of Ergh on the horizon, but there was nothing but an unbroken line of gray sky and dark, churning water.
Just how far away was Ergh? What if the ship sank? Jem hadn’t expected to leave home—what if he never returned? As much as he’d craved adventure in the pages of his tales, leaving the mainland to sail into the frigid unknown was something else entirely.
Before long, Delen strode back toward him easily carrying his trunk. Elated, Jem dropped to his knees when she lowered it to the sand. He thanked her profusely and pushed up the heavy lid, the metal hinges creaking.
Acid flooded his gut, bile rising. Within the trunk sat only folded clothing in bright, useless silks.
He dug through the pile desperately. His nightshirt and robe should have been a comfort, but without his books, anything else paled—even his special candle, which was still tucked into one of his shirts.
The trunk was barely half-filled, and his books could have easily fit, but it seemed they’d been left behind after all.
“You’ll need proper clothes,” Delen said.
Jem’s throat was clogged. If he spoke, he’d wail.
Perhaps it truly was spoiled and silly to be so very heartsick over losing his books, but those worn, beloved pages had been his comfort for so long.
Those words were his lifelong friends, his companions in a way that might seem mad to others.
He would venture into the unknown completely alone.
“Don’t worry,” Delen said, frowning down at him. “I’ll find you something.”
Jem nodded and closed the trunk with a dull thud.
When it was his turn to board the forbidding ship, he followed Cador to the sea’s frothing edge, gasping at the icy water that soaked his boots instantly.
It was instinct rather than true thought that had him stumbling back to the safety of the rock-strewn sand. Cador turned and scowled impatiently.
“No!” Jem shook his head, backing away. “I don’t want to go.
” He knew he sounded like a boy and not a man, but despair surged before plummeting deep and leaving a desperate void.
He wanted his bed and his books and his poor birds at the lakeside.
In the space of hardly more than a day, he didn’t recognize his own life.
Cador marched through the shallows while some aboard the ship jeered and laughed. Cador grabbed hold of Jem roughly. “Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder again.”
“I want to go home.” Jem blinked away the pathetic tears burning his eyes.
The hard lines of Cador’s face softened. “We do what we must. We do our duty. I didn’t want to leave my home either.”
“At least you weren’t alone.”
Cador opened his mouth, but couldn’t seem to argue with that.
Instead, he muttered something that was lost in the wind and picked up Jem around the waist, depositing him into the launch.
Cador rowed with a few others, the snarling boar’s head looming closer until it blotted out the sky, ready to spirit away Jem to a world well and truly abandoned by the gods.