"With the damn treaty? If the garrison commander had allowed you to be harmed, it would've led to war.”
"I was also told that King Jusson was being urged to repudiate the treaty by certain of his nobles," the cat said.
"But that's not true," Javes said. "Jusson has never had any intention of repudiating the treaty or starting a war with the Border. He knows we barely survived the last one.”
Laurel's ears pressed for a moment against his skull. "Yes. I realized that.”
"Did you also realize that Dragoness Moraina was one of the treaty's signers?" I asked.
"What?”
"You heard me. The king mentioned it during his—discussion with Uncle Maceal." I looked at Captain Javes. "You were there, sir.”
"But you said that dragons don't read or write," Suiden said as Javes frowned.
"They don't, honored captain," Laurel said, still staring at me. "Perhaps you heard wrong, Rabbit. You were drinking hard that night, no?”
"That was later," I said. "This happened before Basel's funeral.”
"The king did say that Dragoness Moraina signed the treaty," Javes said. "He also said she sent letters to his great-grandfather."
"Not honored Moraina," Laurel said. "Impossible.”
"Maybe she used a scribe," Groskin said, his voice tentative.
"No, she wouldn't," I said. "Dragons think it's a sin to read or write. For Moraina to use a scribe would be just as immoral as if she had penned the letter herself." I saw the question on Javes' face. "They feel it interferes with the gathering of wisdom.”
"Yes," Laurel said, his mind obviously elsewhere. "Wisdom is to be remembered, not shut away in books, scrolls, and tablets.”
"What are we sailing into?" Suiden said. His emerald eyes blazed at the Faena. "You guaranteed our safety, Sro Cat.”
Laurel waved a paw. "You will be safe. The Fyrst of Elanwryfindyll would no more violate Hospitality than"— he gave a short chuff—"than Moraina would write a book." He ran his paw over his head, rattling his beads. "Truth, Rabbit, I didn't know these things."
My palm grew warmer. "Even so—" I began.
"Wait! You can't go in there!”
The door thrust open and Chancellor Berle stood in the doorway, Jeff clutching her arm. Behind them was Chaplain Obruesk. In the light spill from the cabin I could make out the holy smirk on his face and apparently Captain Suiden could see it too. He rose and went to the door, saying "That is all, Obruesk.”
The sanctimonious smile on the chaplain's face disappeared as if it had been wiped off, and he reverted to his usual glower. Captain Suiden waited until he turned around to go down the stairs. "On second thought, Obruesk, go fetch Lord Esclaur. Now."
Suiden ignored the chaplain's look of outrage and turned to Chancellor Berle. "Chancellor?”
"Is there a reason why I was excluded from this meeting?" she asked.
"Perhaps because I didn't think what we were discussing was your concern, Sra Berle—" Suiden began.
"Oh?" the chancellor interrupted. "You and your senior officers are closeted together with Ambassador Laurel and you don't think it has anything to do with me?”
"If you wish to have this argument in public, Chancellor, I am more than willing.”
Chancellor Berle shut her mouth, eyeing the captain with acute dislike. But Suiden ignored her, looking over her shoulder, and I heard boot steps climbing the stairs to the cabin. A moment later, Lord Esclaur appeared behind Jeff, who was still holding the chancellor's arm.
"My word," Esclaur said, raising his quiz glass. In his hand he carried a basket.
"However, it would be best for us to continue inside," Suiden finished. At his gesture, Jeff released Chancellor Berle, and the captain allowed her to sweep past him. "Lord Esclaur, if you please—”
A shout went up and Captain Suiden stopped, his body stiffening as he stared out the door. Another shout and then the ship's crew broke into what sounded like controlled pandemonium.
"What is it?" Chancellor Berle said, hovering over the chair she was about to sit in. "What's happening?”
A pair of running feet pounded up the stairs to the captain's cabin. "Captain Suiden!”
Suiden pushed past the clot of people in his doorway to meet First Lieutenant Falkin. "What is it?" He repeated Chancellor Berle's question.
"We don't know, sir—”
Laurel stood up, growling, and we all snapped around to look at him. His cat eye pupils were dilated black. I opened my mouth to ask what the bloody hell was going on when I felt my skin begin to crawl as if thousands of ants were marching across my body.
"Sweet merciful heavens," I gasped, also standing. "What's that?”
Suiden looked back at me, and then took off running, Falkin close behind him. Laurel bellowed out a roar and went over the table, his claws digging into the wood. He hit the door without touching the floor, and was gone.
I shoved aside my chair and also Chancellor Berle who had latched onto my arm, and followed the Faena out of the cabin—only to stop at the bridge stairs as I realized how quiet it had become under the noise of the frantically working seamen. The ship itself was silent, the water motionless, the wind still. I looked over at the masts and saw that the crew was busy taking down the reefed sails. I then looked at the other ships, but I could barely see them and a frown came over my face, for the night was too dark. I searched for the moon but found instead a blotch against the sky where it should've been. As I watched, the blotch grew, devouring stars as it expanded towards us, fast.
"Rabbit!" Laurel roared from the quarterdeck.
I ran around to where the Faena stood staring out over the water. I heard footsteps behind me and a brief look told me that not only was Jeff following, but also Basel, Captain Javes, Lieutenant Groskin, Chancellor Berle, Lord Esclaur—and Chaplain Obruesk.
"What's going on?" I asked as I reached Laurel. "And what's that? A storm?" As I said that, the crawling sensation intensified. I glanced down, expecting to see the rune on my hand glow, but it was as dark as the growing darkness in the sky.
"Remember the night of the reception when Captain Suiden spoke of the djinn?" Laurel asked, still staring over the water, his ears pressed flat against his skull.
"Yes ..." My voice trailed off, horror creeping over me.
"As I wasn't there," Chancellor Berle said, "what did His Highness say?”
"That the djinn bring storms, Chancellor," I said.
"Is that what that is?”
"Yes," Laurel said, "and someone has aroused it and pointed it in our direction.”
"If we had gone directly to the Border as we were supposed to," Chancellor Berle said, "we wouldn't be sitting here like ducks.”
"No, honored Berle," Laurel said. "It's coming from where we would've been if we hadn't made this detour." His eyes glowed in the dark and Chaplain Obruesk started to make signs against evil. "Rather than trying to exorcise me," the Faena said, nodding towards the storm, the jagged edges now being outlined in flashes of light, "I would suggest that you pray to ward that off.”
"Would it work, Ambassador?" Esclaur asked as distant thunder rumbled.
"Not that I've ever heard," Laurel replied. "But it would be better than standing around blaming each other, no?”
"An ill-fated mission," Obruesk shot back, "led by sorcerers—”
A flicker caught my eye and I turned to it, expecting to see Basel. The hair stood up on my nape and I moved back until I felt Laurel's fur behind me. "Honor Ash," I whispered.
Obruesk stopped midrant and spun around, everyone else a beat behind him. Laurel's paw came down on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him—which was a good thing as the rest tried to occupy the same space at the same time. The haunt stopped where she was and I could make out the ash leaves woven in her hair.
"Who is it?" Berle asked, her voice hushed.
"Demons," Obruesk said, his whisper harsh.
"No demon, churchman," Laurel replied. "She is the murdered tree sprite Faena. The one who had been made into a church staff.” Lightning flashed, and we could hear the distant rumble of thunder.
"How did she get through the wards?" I asked.
"They were probably weakened by the storm," Laurel said, another flash punctuating his words.
"We're going to die, aren't we," Jeff said, his voice barely heard over the thunder.
I glanced over my shoulder at the djinn storm and opened my mouth to agree. "Not if I can help it," I found myself saying.
"No," Javes said, "and certainly not here like trapped rats." He pressed forward and lifted his quiz glass at the ghost. "Is there a way to get us around—her?" he asked.
Lightning flashed again, and this time the rumble of thunder was closer. Honor Ash Faena began to move once more, silently floating over the deck towards us. A swell hit the ship, causing it to creak and moan as it rocked from side to side.
I followed the captain, pulling away from Laurel Faena to stand facing Honor Ash's shade, but she just went around me and the others. Another swell hit the windrider, this one bigger, lifting it up and then dropping it hard while thunder sounded with a sharp crack. I turned, tracking her until she stopped once more at the quarterdeck railing and pointed a finger at the djinn storm bearing down on us. As she did so, me stillness of the air was broken by a slight breeze that swirled around me.
As soon as Honor Ash floated by him, Captain Javes started towards the quarterdeck stairs, everyone else on his heels. But he stopped again as he saw that Laurel and I hadn't moved. "Rabbit, Ambassador Laurel—” The breeze grew stronger, pulling at my tabard and braid. I resisted and it pressed against my back, pushing me towards the rail and the Faena's haunt.
"Like calling to like," Obruesk yelled over the noise of the approaching storm. "Leave them!”
I tried to step back and the breeze stiffened, pressing harder. Captain Suiden's words about mages being consumed popped into my mind and I shook my head. "No!”
"Go down yourself then!" Captain Javes shouted back at Obruesk. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his hand reach for me.
"No, honored Javes!" Laurel said. "Don't!”
The breeze turned into an eddy of wind, with me in the center, and Javes was thrown back by the force of it as lightning crackled and forked across the sky, followed by a boom, then another crackling flash, another boom. The wind-rider surged in sudden heavy seas and the others went reeling as the deck heaved beneath them, Jeff falling and sliding towards the railing until Groskin latched hold of him, and Esclaur grabbing onto the lieutenant. But I stayed upright, held by the wind, and was pushed closer to the railing.
"No!" I yelled and once more tried to move back, hunching my shoulders. The djinn storm was now almost upon the first windrider in our convoy and it was as if clawed fingers reached out for the ship.
"Rabbit," Laurel said, his voice pitched under the rising fury. "Center yourself. And breathe!” Meditating while sitting in the warmth of the morning sun with no distractions is one thing. Trying to do so while caught in a windstorm, facing a murdered sprite's ghost as certain doom bears down on one is another.
But I closed my eyes and reached for the center as Laurel taught me, concentrating on my breathing, and to my surprise I felt the tension run out my fingertips and feet, calm filling the empty places. And I heard— Come, the wind belled, a deep ringing that resonated in my bones.
Why?
Live. Come.
Live? But in what form? Fear lanced through me that if I went, I'd not return. That the very thing why I fled from Magus Kareste would happen to me here, and I'd be devoured.
Trust, the wind belled, and images arose of the bridge of air, the arrows stopped midflight, the scorched side street with Slevoic. Live, it belled again, my entire body resounding.
Live, I echoed back. I opened my eyes just in time to see the storm boil over the first windrider, the faint cries from the ship swallowed whole. Greedy hands reached once more and I was vaguely aware of our ship's violent pitching. Live as opposed to dying. Put like that, the choice was a little easier. I hesitated, then lowered my head, and let go.
"Rabbit!" I heard Javes shout—then he was gone.
We moved over the water, flowing between the wind-riders. Before us was a dark mass and we met it as it reared over a ship, flinging ourselves against it.
No. Ours.
Glowing yellow eyes glared out from behind the dark clouds and lips pulled back showing sharp, jagged teeth, while lightning forked and crackled about it.
Impressive. But still ours.
A taloned, many-fingered hand swung, clawing at us. In the other it held breathing ones that it flung into the water. We shifted aside, plucked them out again, cradling them safe.
Ours too.
The dark one thundered and tried to roll over us, to press us down, to crush us.
Not wise.
We called, a deep singing peal, and as the air rushed to us, the dark clouds shrank, growing smaller and smaller. It howled its rage and we smiled.
Also ours.
The dark one now tried to flee and we caught it, holding it fast as the last of the clouds shredded into streamers, stars' twinkling between them. It struck out at us again, but its blows were feeble. The sky cleared and the moon appeared, bright on the water, and we watched the yellow eyes dim, then fade away.
I was walking in the cool darkness of the forest with Dragoness Moraina. Honor Ash strode ahead of us, bright as if the sun shone down on her as she paced through the trees, marking our path, Laurel an indistinct shadow beside her.
"Endings are foretold in beginnings, young human," Moraina said, "and the seeds of destruction are sown at creation." The dragoness smiled, a toothy sight. "But if you're fortunate, you're able to come around again to start anew.”
"Is it always the same, honored Moraina?" I asked, my child's voice not yet broken by adolescence. I hopped from dragon print to dragon print, pressed deep in the leaf mold. "The same ending and beginning?”
"For some," the dragoness admitted. "But for others, it is the spiraling song of the lark ascending.” I awoke with a start, staring at the dim lamp gently swaying overhead in the lieutenants' berth. I then sighed. Great, now even my dreams were cryptic. I rolled over in my hammock and came face to face with a midshipman. The boy backed up a step, then took off. As he ran up the ladder I could hear him yelling, "He's awake! Captain, sir, he's awake!” I tracked him after the fact, turning my head to where his footsteps faded above decks, and met the gaze of Doyen Allwyn. "Welcome back, Lord Rabbit," the clergyman said.