Chapter Thirty-Eight
the Lover’s smile was like the sun
his laughter stirred the breeze
the Nymph had ancient eyes that brought
the Kraken to his knees
and though his heart was long thought lost
they caught him in their snare
the man of ice had met his match
the Nymph and Lover fair
Popular ballad
Moving his belongings out of the captain’s cabin had not taken as long as Einar expected.
It spoke to the stark utility of his life up to this point, that in so many centuries he had accumulated so few things.
The keepsakes and small treasures had been packed into boxes and moved to the quarters set aside for Dianthe.
Most of the clothing left here would not fit him unless he returned to his human form.
He had no intention of doing so. The Sheltered Lands would have to take him as he was from now on. But, having enjoyed the casual acceptance of the people of Rahvekya, Einar no longer worried so much about that.
He stopped by the desk and its carefully rolled maps, running his fingers along the scarred surface.
He’d spent endless years here, planning his war against the Empire.
Whatever the new Captain did at this desk, it would not have to be that.
Sorin was gone, his Imperial Court shattered.
Gwynira and Isa were allies, and Eirika . . .
Well, Eirika might still be a problem. But the High Court and its many new friends were more than ready to face whatever trouble she decided to cause.
His fingers found the end of the desk and the smooth planks of the ship.
He pressed his hand against it, spreading his fingers wide.
The Kraken thrummed in welcome, its power different, somehow.
Perhaps he was different. As a youth, he’d been raised in the shadow of the High Court of Dreamers, absorbing their understanding of the Everlasting Dream and the Endless Void.
Magic had been simple to them, Creation and Destruction seen as two separate forces, with the Court’s magical powers springing only from the Dream, and with tightly focused belief.
Einar had Theron’s memories now, uncounted eons of being an elemental force.
Storms brought the rain that gave life, and the devastation that stole it.
He could feel both threads twined in the magic of his ship—the Kraken was built for war.
But it was also built to shelter its crew, to be a home for this odd group of misfits who had never felt comfortable anywhere else.
Einar had named his ship well when he had named it the Kraken. Like Theron, this ship was a protector. It had kept the crew safe and extended their lives, nurturing the small magics within them. That was too important to end simply because Einar’s needs had changed.
Naia had shown him the way. But this didn’t need to be a public ceremony. Einar closed his eyes and let the power within him rise.
“This is where we say farewell,” he whispered.
“This magic was always yours as much as it was mine. Keep them safe for me. Always bring them safely back to port. And you’ll have to let me go.
” When the magic of the ship pushed back at him, Einar laughed and tapped the wooden plank with one knuckle.
“I mean it. Where I’m going, you cannot follow.
The Kraken may always find its captain, but you will have a new one now. ”
Familiar footsteps announced the approach of that captain. Einar straightened and turned in time to see Brynjar standing in the doorway, one box tucked under his arm. “You need some more time? Bexi and I can wait.”
“No, I’m finished here.” He reached out to take the box from his former third mate and set it on the desk. “I was just making sure the ship understands the new chain of command.”
Brynjar’s face broke into a wide grin. “Aww, and here we were, taking bets on how long it would take for the old girl to dive down on her own and surface in the Lover’s Lakes because she missed you.”
The magic that had let the ship travel through the Heart of the Ocean to appear in a new body of water in moments had always rested on Einar’s ability to shift into a creature large enough to pull her down and make the trip.
Einar could not say what would happen with a new captain at the helm, but if enough people believed, and Brynjar’s heart was open to it . . .
Well, their world was rife with new gods. And if he did manifest, Brynjar would be a welcome addition to Dianthe’s court of young Dreamers.
Slapping the man on the shoulder, Einar returned his smile. “You and Bexi settle in. I want to say goodbye to the island.”
Einar left the captain’s quarters for the last time and headed for the deck.
Hilja dropped a curtsy to him as he emerged, but it wasn’t as deep, and her smile was less reverent than proud—he was wearing the latest of the outfits she’d made for him, after all.
The heavy tunic and thick pants and fur-lined cloak would not be practical in the warmer climates of the Lover’s Villa, but it felt good to say farewell to the island of his birth dressed in the fashion of his parents.
The ship was already moving at a fair clip, a strong breeze filling the deep-green sails emblazoned with the Kraken’s sigil.
Not a wind he had summoned—though he could now, he supposed—but one final gift from the island.
They would have gentle winds and smooth seas as they headed out on their next adventure, and Einar knew that they would always be welcomed back to Rahvekya with the same.
“Captain!” The ship’s cook appeared at his side, but his gaze didn’t quite meet Einar’s.
Harlen was staring at something over Einar’s shoulder, a dreamy look in his eyes, the reason for which became clear with his next words.
“Do you think Hilja would like that stew I made for Lady Naia on the trip here?”
In the decades he had served on this ship, Einar had never seen Harlen show interest in something he couldn’t cook, bake, or sauté. But he was starry-eyed now, gazing at the formidable woman as if he’d never seen anyone quite so beautiful.
Brynjar’s first act as captain might need to be hiring a new cook. At least Aleksi would be thrilled to welcome Harlen at the villa. “I think she’d love it,” he told the older man, who thanked him distractedly before hurrying off.
Smiling, Einar continued toward the stern.
He found Aleksi and Naia exactly where he’d expected them to be, both standing at the railing, watching as the shores of Rahvekya receded into the distance.
Omira lounged at their feet, though she stretched lazily and rolled over when she caught sight of Einar.
He took his place next to Naia, settling a reassuring hand at the small of her back. “Any lingering regrets?” he asked her softly.
“Never. This is not an ending, for them or for me. It’s a beginning.” She smiled up at him. “What about you? Will you regret leaving your ship?”
He’d thought he might, but all he felt was anticipation.
“It’s a beginning,” he agreed. “It’s not as if we won’t see the crew again.
And we’ll have to visit Petya and Agata, and see how the rebuilding is going.
” Maybe Petya and Agata would even travel to the Sheltered Lands.
After over two thousand years of standing lonely duty in the heart of Rahvekya, Aggie deserved an adventure.
It would be fun to show her Aleksi’s villa, or the majesty of Seahold.
Without the looming threat of war on the horizon, they could do anything they wanted.
Aleksi breathed in the sea air and dropped a kiss to the top of Naia’s head. “Did you manage to reach Sachi and Zanya?”
“I did,” she answered ruefully. “The rest of the High Court now knows what happened, and they are . . .”
“Mildly put out?” Aleksi ventured hopefully.
“You are lucky,” she allowed, then chuckled. “But not that lucky.”
“Why do you think I haven’t taken us through the Heart of the Ocean?
” Einar threaded his fingers through Aleksi’s hair.
It might take a century or more to stop wanting to touch him just to prove to himself that the Lover was hale and healthy, but touching Aleksi was no hardship.
“The week’s sail to Seahold will give them a chance to calm down. ”
“If you say so, my love,” Naia teased.
Einar suspected the entire High Court would be in residence at Seahold by the time they docked, and the lectures would be fierce, indeed. “We can give them all a few days to reassure themselves that Aleksi is well, and then take a boat upriver to the Lover’s Lakes.”
“Are you sure?” The Lover was usually so confidently charming, but now he sounded almost nervous. “We can live anywhere. We do not have to reside at my villa.”
Naia frowned up at him. “Have you changed your mind?”
“No,” he hurriedly assured her. “It’s only that you two are giving up so much. A kingdom, and an island that is very much a part of you.”
“Aleksi—” Einar started, but the Lover interrupted.
“Besides . . .” Aleksi’s seriousness faded. “Do you know how thrilled my followers would be to learn that I abandoned my home in pursuit of love? There would be hundreds of new poems by sunrise.”
“Not to mention the many amazing paintings and sculptures,” Naia added.
“So many.”
Despite his humor, Aleksi’s offer was serious—and unnecessary.
Einar suspected they would have many places that felt like home in the years to come.
He and Naia would always have suites at Seahold, and now he might actually stay in his from time to time.
And Aleksi had an entire estate at Dragon’s Keep, where the High Court often convened.
There would be visits to Inga in the Witchwood to see how Gwynira, Isa, and Arktikos were settling in, and trips to the Blasted Plains to see Elevia at Blade’s Rest. They would probably even spend time at the hunting lodge Ulric had built deep within the Midnight Forest, and go on adventures with Nyx through the Burning Hills.
And they would come back to Rahvekya sometimes, maybe even sail here on the Kraken.
Funny. Einar had started as a boy on a tiny boat with no family beyond Petya and Jinevra, and now his family spanned continents.
Any place that family resided would feel like home, but only one place was home—wherever Aleksi and Naia felt safe and happy.
Einar laid a hand on Aleksi’s cheek and stroked his thumb over the man’s lips. “I’m sure,” he said. “Take us home, Aleksi.”
Einar would never know what Aleksi saw in his eyes in that moment, but the Lover’s nervousness faded. “I would miss my vineyards,” Aleksi admitted with a smile that felt like a kiss against Einar’s thumb.
“We’ll still give the poets and storytellers plenty to write about,” Einar promised, before giving in to the temptation to take Aleksi’s lips in a kiss.
Naia’s sweet laughter filled the air, so deliciously tempting they broke apart only to fight over who would get to taste her lips first. The resulting kiss was a joyous tangle of warmth and love that earned whoops and teasing shouts from the watching crew.
The bards would certainly have to write a new ballad, because the Kraken had found both a lad and a lass—two lovers fair—to hold him past the dawn. The Kraken’s heart was not gone, but here, in his arms.
And he had no intention of ever letting them go.