Wulfe’s eyes narrowed, glittering gold. “I’ll ask them.”
He dove back down, his butt sticking out, his scrawny legs flailing. Skylan saw him communicating with his oceanaids, who petted him and fawned over him.
“Where did you meet the princeling?” Manta asked.
“Why does everyone keep calling him that?” Skylan asked. “He’s a scrawny kid.”
Who can breathe underwater and turn himself into a wolf, Skylan thought, but didn’t say aloud.
“Because that’s what the oceanaids call him,” Manta replied.
Wulfe had always claimed to be the grandson of the Faerie Queen. Skylan had always dismissed the claim as just another of the boy’s outlandish tales, which had included the ability to talk to the dryads of the sea. Watching these dryads listening to Wulfe with obvious deference and adoration, Skylan wondered if the boy had been telling the truth. The idea made Skylan’s head ache.
Wulfe swam back to the surface to impart his news.
One of the oceanaids’ favorite pastimes was to watch the human lovers in the caves and several of the oceanaids had been swimming in the vicinity of the sluice gate the night Farinn had been taken. The oceanaids had been thrilled to witness warriors capture the young man and drag him away, this being more excitement than the oceanaids generally encountered in an evening.
“Do your friends know where they took him?”
The oceanaids knew. Intrigued by the abduction of the young man, they had followed the warriors. Farinn was being held in the dungeons of the City of the Fourth Daughter. The dungeons having no access by water, the oceanaids could not see what had become of him.
“They’ll lead us there,” said Wulfe.
“They’ll lead
me
there,” said Skylan. “You’re not going.”
“If I don’t go, my friends won’t go,” said Wulfe with a sly smile.
“There might be fighting,” said Skylan.
Wulfe hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “I’m still going. It’s boring down here. There’s only so much you can do with fish.”
Skylan was about to order Wulfe to stay, then he had a thought. “Very well. You can come. I might need your magic.”
“Magic?” Wulfe repeated, suddenly wary. “I don’t know magic.”
“I’ve seen you, remember?” Skylan said, exasperated. “Hot cinders raining down out a clear night sky. Jellyfish leaping out of the sea and grabbing a man’s hand. Not to mention breathing underwater.”
Wulfe gazed at Skylan through a thatch of long, wet hair. “My mother says if you Uglies know I do magic, you’ll kill me.”
“I haven’t killed you yet,” said Skylan, grinning. “Though I admit I’ve been tempted.”
He reached out and playfully ducked the boy’s head. Wulfe came up laughing and suddenly flung his arms around Skylan’s neck.
“I love you!” Wulfe said in a low, fierce voice, giving Skylan a hug that nearly strangled him. The boy swam off, going back to his oceanaids, leaving Skylan to stare after him in wonder.
Manta had never been inside the City of the Fourth Daughter, but all the Aquin cities were built more or less along the same plan, which meant that the dungeons had probably been built some distance from the city proper.
“Your plan might work, after all,” Manta conceded grudgingly.
“Then let’s get started,” said Skylan. “How far is this city?”
“About thirty miles,” Manta replied.
Skylan’s jaw dropped. “Thirty miles! We can’t swim that far!”
“
We
could,” said Manta, chuckling at Skylan’s dismay. “Don’t worry, Vindrasi. We have need for haste and so we will summon help.”
Manta put her hands to her mouth and gave a call that Skylan could not hear. Within moments, twenty or thirty large dolphins arrived, swimming around them.
“The dolphins will aid us in reaching our destination,” said Manta.
Skylan was dubious, thinking she meant he was to ride the dolphin like a horse, which brought hoots of derisive laughter from the Aquins. Manta showed Skylan how to grasp hold of the dorsal fin.
“Lie flat and hang on,” she instructed.
Skylan took hold of the dolphin’s dorsal fin as instructed. The dolphin’s skin against his body was surprisingly smooth. He gave the dolphin’s neck a tentative pat, as he would have his horse. The dolphin appeared to find this highly amusing, for the creature opened its mouth and lifted its head in what sounded like a chortle.
The Aquins, seeing Skylan was ready, gave orders to the dolphins, who swam ahead. Skylan’s dolphin gave a flip of the tail and surged ahead so swiftly that Skylan nearly lost his grip on the fin. Skylan found he had to adjust the position of his body to that of the dolphin to avoid hampering the animal’s ability to swim. Once he figured out how to hold on, he found the rapid and effortless movement through the water exhilarating. He glanced back to see Wulfe swimming with a dolphin, surrounded by an immense number of oceanaids who darted around the boy like minnows.
Undoubtedly the strangest raiding party in the entire history of the Vindrasi, thought Skylan.
CHAPTER
31
Aylaen felt useless. Skylan had gone to rescue Farinn, leaving her behind to wait either for his safe return or news of his death or capture.
“Such is the fate of women,” Aylaen said bitterly to herself. She stood in the tower room, gazing out the window, seeing nothing. In her mind, she was following her husband, trying to picture where he would be, what he would be doing.
Aylaen had wanted to go with Skylan but he had refused to take her, saying, quite rightly, that she should remain behind with the Vektia spiritbones, one of which was on the Vektan Torque that she now was wearing. The other was hidden in the
Venjekar
.
“If I do not come back,” Skylan had said to her. “You must go to the dragonship. The Dragon Kahg will carry you safely back to Vindraholm.”
“You will come back,” said Aylaen, adding with mock severity, “If you don’t, I will come to Torval’s Hall and slap you silly!”
Skylan had laughed heartily at this and kissed her and left her to stand gazing after him.
Aylaen turned from the window. “I can’t stay here doing nothing,” she muttered.
The thought came to her that she
could
do something to help Skylan. She could pray for his safe return. Aylaen returned to the small shrine where she and Skylan had been married. She was hoping to be alone and was at first disappointed to find Acronis there, using ink he had made himself from fruit to sketch the altar of the Sea Goddess on a scrap of cloth.
The Aquins, like the Vindrasi, had never developed a written form of their language. Again like the Vindrasi, bards kept the history of the Aquins in the form of song. Unlike the Vindrasi, whose songs were of courage and honor and heroes dying in battle, the songs of the Aquins were serene and tranquil, celebrating long lives well lived.
He rose when he saw her and gathered up his materials. “I will leave you to your prayers,” he said.
“Wait,” said Aylaen, halting him. “I have been cooped up in my room, listening to my own fears. The sound of your voice is a welcome change. I would like you to stay, sir, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” said Acronis. “Don’t worry, my dear. Skylan will be fine. The gods love him.”
“Not all the gods,” said Aylaen somberly, thinking of Sund.
Aylaen stood before the altar. She wanted to pray to Vindrash, but it occurred to her that she had never before spoken to the goddess. Or rather, she had spoken to Vindrash only in visions.
“Treia told me that the Kai Priestess Dharma talked to Vindrash incessantly, morning and night. She held intimate conversations with the goddess, as if they were friends.” Aylaen frowned. “I don’t think I want to be friends with the goddess. I’m a little afraid of her.”
“I spoke to the gods when I was young,” Acronis said. “I remembered thinking they answered me. The gods always speak to the young.”
Aylaen didn’t understand, but then Acronis was constantly saying things like that. She let the peace of the shrine settle into her soul and pondered what it meant to be Kai Priestess of her people.
“I am here because of a lie,” she said abruptly.
Acronis was silent, waiting for Aylaen to continue.
She looked back in time, saw herself as someone she did not recognize.
“The ogres had stolen the Vektan Torque from our people. Skylan was going to set sail for the ogre lands to claim it back. He chose valiant warriors to take with him, including the man I loved. I could not bear to be left behind and so I cut my hair and told a lie in order that Skylan would be forced to bring me. I said I wanted to become a priestess of Vindrash and that sailing on this voyage was some sort of ritual. In truth, I did not want to become a priestess. I came because I was a foolish, selfish girl who could not bear to be left behind.”
The course of our wyrds might have run so much differently if I had not come, Aylaen thought. Garn might still be alive. She would never know. Those waves had rushed to the shore and receded and were forever gone.
Acronis rested his hand on her shoulder.
“It seems your lie was the truth, after all,” he said.
“Skylan believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself,” said Aylaen. “I used to ridicule him for his faith, even as I secretly envied him. When I held the blessed sword of Vindrash in my hand I knew that I was her priestess. I knew then that I had always been her priestess. Poor Treia. She saw that Vindrash had chosen me and repulsed her. No wonder my sister hates me.”
Aylaen drew the blessed sword that Vindrash had given her and placed it upon the altar. Kneeling on the cushions, she lifted her eyes and her voice to heaven.
“Blessed Vindrash, I believe you brought me here for a reason. I know that you walk with me, and I know that even though I cannot see the road ahead, you will guide me. I will strive to do my best to serve you and my people.” Aylaen’s voice faltered a moment, then she added firmly, “No matter what the cost.”
She thought of Farinn, the shy, quiet young man who was learning to read and write so that he could give his songs to those who came after him. He was alone and captive in a strange place. He must be afraid. She thought of Skylan, risking his life and his happiness to save Farinn because the young man was Skylan’s man and the Vindrasi stood together. She thought how proud she was of Skylan and how much she loved him. The prayers in her heart for him and for Farinn were too sacred to be spoken aloud, even if she could have spoken for her tears.
“Aylaen, someone is coming,” Acronis said quietly.
Aylaen looked around and saw Queen Magali standing in the entrance.
“I am sorry to disturb you at your prayers,” said the Queen, hesitating. “I will leave.”
Aylaen rose swiftly. “Please do not go, Your Majesty. I am finished with my prayers. Vindrash knows what is in my heart better than I do anyway.”
Queen Magali’s gaze went to the sword lying, shining, on the altar. Aylaen flushed and removed it, slipping the sword back into the sheath she wore around her waist.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I did not mean to offend you or the Sea Goddess.”
“Your ways are strange to us, that is true,” said Queen Magali. “But our ways must seem as strange to you.”
The Queen entered the shrine. She paused before Acronis, who bowed deeply.
“We have not had a chance to speak, sir. I am told you recently lost your young daughter.” Queen Magali’s voice was soft with sympathy. “My own children are a daily gift to me. I cannot imagine losing a child. My heart would be torn, never to mend.”
“I wanted to die, Your Majesty,” said Acronis simply. “I tried to kill myself and when I could not, I asked Skylan to help me take my life. He had no reason to love me and every reason to hate me. Yet he refused. He made me see that Chloe would be ashamed of me if I took such a cowardly path.”
“And that is why you are his friend?” the Queen asked.
“Chloe was all to me. My old life would have been empty without her. I sailed with young Skylan and his bride”—Acronis smiled at Aylaen—“and I have seen many wonderful and terrible and beautiful things. I plan to share everything with Chloe when she and I are together again in Torval’s feasting hall.”
“You are Sinarian. Your people worship Aelon. Yet you believe in our gods?”
“I have no choice,” said Acronis, shrugging. “I met one, Your Majesty. The goddess Vindrash spoke to me. It would be rude
not
to believe in her, don’t you think?”
The Queen blinked at this statement. Uncertain how to respond, she turned to Aylaen.
“I have yet to give you the gift, Aylaen,” Queen Magali said.
“You mean the spiritbone—” Aylaen began.
The Queen swiftly interrupted. “The gift of which we spoke.”
Aylaen gave a nod to show she understood the need for secrecy. “Do not think me ungrateful, Your Majesty, but I would like to wait until Skylan can be here with me.”
“I fear that there may not be time,” said Queen Magali. “War is inevitable. When Aelon’s priests discover that the hostage has escaped, they will come here in force. You and Skylan and the others must be well away or you will be caught up in the fighting.”
“I know Skylan. He will stay to fight with you,” said Aylaen. “And I will stay with him.”
Queen Magali smiled, touched and pleased. “At first I did not understand how a beautiful and strong young woman like you could possibly choose such an arrogant, outspoken, obstreperous male as this Skylan for your mate. I find I understand him better now. He will give you strong daughters, as strong as their mother.”
Aylaen bit her lip and managed a smile. She was about to reply when Acronis said softly, “Keep talking,” and slipped quickly out the door. Aylaen had no idea what to say. She stammered something and then fell silent. Queen Magali’s face was pale, her lips drawn tight.
Acronis returned. “I heard the sound of shells crunching underfoot and feared someone was spying on us. I am afraid I was right. I caught sight of a woman sneaking about outside. I don’t know who she was, for I could not get a good look at her. When she saw me, she ran away. She must have come up from the water, for she left behind a puddle where she was standing.”