Chapter 37 Hell
The water lapped at the wooden sides of the rowboats as we stepped into them.
This was the ingenious plan that we had concocted in the middle of the night, on little sleep.
I made a mental note to never plan another rescue while exhausted again.
Though, in truth it made sense. We had snuck in and out of Verith twice by land.
The last time we had scarcely made it back, and certainly not unmarred.
So here we were. Three rowboats and a handful of people who had apparently decided being shot at once this week was insufficient. Raf and I boarded one rowboat, at Liv’s instruction as she and Ezra took the other, and Arabella and Dinah took the last. I looked at the oars and then at Raf.
“After you, Blacksmith.” I smiled. There was no way I was going to row us out of the canal while he sat idle and relaxed.
“I would not allow you to row in your condition anyways.” He nodded toward my arm. I scoffed and opened my mouth to respond.
“Would you two stop bickering?” Liv crossed her arms. “We need to focus.” Despite her command, the smile tugging at her lips told me she was thoroughly enjoying this.
Elsbeth had secured us passage off a small dock in the trade route.
The Torezian canal was lined with trade boats and merchants.
Colorful buildings hung over the cliff’s edge.
Inns, brothels, alehouses, all bursting with sailors.
It felt so alive. The trade canal in Verith was nothing like this.
There were no shops, no rowdy sailors, it was all business.
The boats would unload on the beach and the merchants would come to collect the wares silently.
The boat lurched beneath us as Raf began to row.
We moved in a neat line down the canal. Liv and Ezra at the front, the girls in the middle, and Raf and I, securing the end of our line of boats.
The sea air smelled of salt and fish. It was not unpleasant though.
It soothed something within me. I took a deep breath in as we neared the end of the canal and the fishy smell faded to a fresh clean smell.
I had always dreamed of living by the sea.
The Baresia and then the Holudrums were landlocked.
I leaned back in the boat, facing Raf and kicked my feet up.
He stopped rowing, allowing the current from the canal to carry us out to sea.
Small waves rolled through, pushing our boats along.
All of us relaxed with the motion and when one boat would drift too far, the ropes we used to tie us together would tug it back into our group.
The lively chatter of the canal drifted away as we reached the open sea.
For a moment I had forgotten we were on a rescue mission.
Seabirds flew overhead, squawking as they passed each other.
Liv and Ezra sat cuddled together in their boat, pointing out clouds that drifted above and imagining different animals they were shaped as.
Arabella reached into the water and splashed Dinah.
Dinah shuddered, though it had nothing to do with the cold water.
Her eyes were wide as she stared into the sea.
“What is it?” Arabella asked. Dinah was silent. She just kept staring beneath the surface, as though she were waiting for something terrible to happen.
“Have you not heard the tales?” She asked quietly, never breaking her gaze.
“What tales?” Raf leaned closer to their boat, fully intrigued. For a long moment she did not answer.
“The Cantoooooorsss!” Arabella said in a mocking, almost comical, ghostly voice. She doubled over laughing and fell back into the boat, causing it to rock wildly. Dinah held tightly to the sides, digging her nails into the wood as she waited for the boat to settle.
“What are Cantors?” Raf asked, genuinely curious.
“Seriously?” I raised my brow at him. “Every child in Verith was told the tale of the curses of the cantors as a child.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, I am not a child of Verith. I am a child of Torezia, and in Torezia we do not intentionally frighten children.”
Dinah broke her dead stare into the water and met Raf’s gaze. “The Cantors live beneath the deepest waters. They are beautiful creatures that sing to diviners and witches from below. Their voices make you want to enter the sea.” Arabella rolled her eyes and laid back in their boat.
“Once you're beneath the surface,” Dinah continued, “Their beauty disappears and you see their true faces. Razor teeth, empty black eyes. They steal your magic, and with it your soul.” Raf shook slightly as a chill skittered over his skin.
“And they just leave you there? Lifelessly floating in the sea?” His eyes were wide, and he was practically climbing into their boat.
“They leave you empty, drifting endlessly into the sea.” Her eyes returned to the water. Raf looked at her and back to me.
“It is just a story that diviners use to keep their children away from the sea so they don’t drown.” I answered his unspoken question simply.
“It isn't.” I glanced toward Liv. She had turned around in Ezra's arms, her brow furrowed. “It isn't a story meant to keep children from drowning.” Dinah somehow managed to look even more terrified.
“That is not particularly comforting, Liv.” I scowled at her. The last thing we needed was a traumatized little girl leading a rescue.
“The Cantors are real,” she said. “The story just isn't.” Ezra popped his head up from their boat.
“She is telling the truth. We read it in the ancient texts.” Then he wrapped his arms around Liv’s shoulders.
“What do you mean the story is not true?” I asked her, my own curiosity getting the better of me.
“The story of the cantors has been altered, just like our own histories.”
She stuck her hand in the water as she continued, allowing it to slip through her fingers.
“The cantors are not soulless monsters. They were actually a very powerful, very peaceful people. And allies to the diviners in the Great War.”
She sighed. “Obviously that was the wrong choice.”
She went on to explain that the diviners coerced the cantors into helping them, convincing them that their cause was righteous and just.
The cantors actually gave the diviners an upper hand in the war, until they turned on the cantors.
They realized that they could harvest their power.
So they captured them, and stole their magic just as they did to the women of Verith.
By the end of the war, despite the cantors’ help, the diviners had all but exterminated them.
The ones who remained formed their society in the darkest depths of the ocean and vowed that no cantor would ever meddle in the affairs of the land dwellers again, and they would never fall victim to the diviners.
Then, they disappeared into the sea and were never seen again.
Their history was rewritten to paint them as monsters and diviners as saviors of the land dwellers.
Ezra had gone strangely still beside her.
“Ezra?” He did not look at me. He stared into the water, the same horrified look as Dinah, but for an entirely different reason.
“History seems rather fond of making monsters from its victims,” he said quietly.