14

Ash

Dawn breaks without the sun, though the sky lightens, and a commotion of birds comes alive all at once. Gulls sweep the cliffs with their endless riot, and the lone whistle of a turkey buzzard sounds from high above. They can smell a dead body from miles away, it seems, and, on this headland, we have more than one.

Piper and I lean over Samsen, applying cool cloths to his face. His eyes flutter open, and he focuses on us with a look of disbelief. I understand why. My clothes are blood-soaked, my arms and, no doubt, face streaked with blood as well, and Piper’s face is bruised, one eye swollen nearly shut, with gashes on her arms. Sure, she’s given herself a healing, but only enough to get her on her feet. She has to pace herself, and her phantom, to help Marcus, whose injuries are more severe.

“Piper?” He gasps her name.

“I’m fine,” she says quickly, though it must seem like a lie. She feels the lump on the back of his head so tenderly, I look over my shoulder toward the sea.

“Marcus?”

“Hale enough, or he will be after a little more rest.”

Samsen tries to sit.

“Not so fast.” Piper’s serpent retracts its fangs from his wrist. “You have a concussion.”

“Not fast enough, you mean.” Before we can stop him, he’s up on one knee. The ground rumbles and churns. I shield my eyes as a black vulture flies out of the earth, dirt and grass falling from its wings. The bird gains altitude and circles over us, a silhouette against the early dawn sky.

“Who attacked?” Samsen’s voice sounds distant, though he’s right next to us.

“Aturnian mercenaries, some of them Captain Nadonis’s crew.”

“Apparently, he thought we were spies,” I say.

Samsen frowns. “I suspect the attack was more about killing the Heir before he reaches Aku than some purported spying. They may not have even known the true purpose.”

I have the same fears.

“Can you look for the horses while you’re up there?” Piper asks. “They pulled their pickets.”

“Got ’em. A stone’s throw north in a dry cornfield, eating husks.”

“That’s good news.” I leave Piper to fill him in on the details of the attack and check on Belair. He’s awake, and I offer him a strong lemon-balm tea. Sadly, his supply of Ochee perished in the battle.

“Never thought our adventure would come to this,” he says quietly. “Hope you’ll put me in a good light in the records.”

“Let’s not worry about it just now.” I pat his arm. It hasn’t occurred to him what this delay might mean. I move to check Marcus. He’s more like a peacefully sleeping person than a corpse now, which is a relief. A blessing, no doubt, until the serpent’s healing takes full effect.

Kaylin drags bodies and various amputated limbs to the edge of the cliff and tosses them to the sea. I am lost for a moment, watching him work.

“Aturnians to the north!” Samsen calls out. “We need to round up the horses immediately.” He lifts his head, back from phantom perspective. “But first I want to talk with the bosun’s mate.” His eyes narrow on Kaylin.

I hold out my hand. “He’s not the enemy.”

“Still need to talk.” Samsen draws his sword.

“Talk or fight?” I say as he walks by, brushing me aside.

“Depends.” He approaches Kaylin and stops a few feet away. “You did this?” he asks as he taps the lump on the back of his skull.

Kaylin drops the body he’s dragging. “No, but I see you want an explanation.”

“It might give me a reason not to kill you.” Samsen isn’t smiling.

Kaylin shrugs. “I did what I was ordered to do. Assisted Levvey. At least, until the orders clashed with my own better judgment.”

“You do this often?” Samsen glances over the camp. “Attack your passengers once they disembark?”

“You had Nadonis and Levvey suspicious.”

“Did you know you were to execute the Heir of Baiseen?”

“Nay.” Kaylin glances at Marcus, who hasn’t moved.

“It sounds like you came very close to doing it.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” He nudges another body off the edge of the cliff with his foot. “I wouldn’t have done it, even if we had never met.”

“Why not? You’re clearly adept with the sword and have no second thoughts about taking a life from the path.” Samsen shakes his head at the body count, as if unable to believe his eyes. “Astonishing, for a non-savant.”

I plant my hands on my hips. “For a non-savant?” I never thought I’d hear bias from Samsen.

“You cannot know my thoughts,” Kaylin answers, taking no offense.

“Then explain them to me.”

One side of Kaylin’s mouth turns up. “Your party is savant, granted safe passage to Aku, and I believe in and protect that right. What they were going to do to Ash, and your healer, could not go unpunished.”

“You didn’t mention that part.” Samsen glances at Piper before rubbing the lump on his head. “And you take it upon yourself to be judge and executioner?”

“When the circumstances warrant, aye.”

Samsen studies him in silence. “You’re a dangerous lad.”

“That I am.”

Before he can say more, Samsen’s phantom swoops in and perches in the low branches of an ironbark tree. It spreads its wings, showing off the intricate charcoal and gray herringbone patterns beneath the primary feathers. The span is as wide as I am tall as it fans the air.

“The Aturnian soldiers are breaking camp, heading south. Toward us. Less than an hour off.” He looks out to sea. “We must ride.”

“We can’t move Marcus,” Piper says. “Not until he regains consciousness and I’m sure the bleeding has stopped.”

“No choice,” Samsen answers. “We’ll head into the forest. They may not be scouting off the road.”

“What would they be doing, then, if not scouting?” Marcus asks from the other side of the fire, startling us all. He’s not only conscious but on his feet.

It’s all I can do not to rush to his side and throw my arms around him. “How are you feeling?”

“As well as I look, I imagine.” He winces and rubs his chest.

“I wager the troops are heading for Clearwater, not searching for you,” Kaylin says, not in the least surprised to see Marcus recovered. “They do regular sweeps of the coastal towns this time of year.”

“On their way south?” Marcus asks.

“Aye.”

But the mood is darker, more ominous, and I can’t help but wonder if this journey will be remembered as the one before chaos consumed the realms. Surely the events of the last days—on both sides—will not go unchecked. But I’ll not voice these things. Not now.

Marcus bats Piper’s hand away when she tries to sit him down. “Leave off. I’m deciding whether to thank this sailor for saving my life or kill him for betraying us.”

“I suggest you do it quickly.” Kaylin tilts his head to the north. “It’s time to go.”

“How do I know you weren’t setting us up?” Marcus asks.

“You don’t.” He turns to me. “If you’d gotten to Capper Point before nightfall,” Kaylin reminds us again, “this could have been avoided.” He shrugs as if it is a small matter and eyes the eastern horizon. “Samsen’s right. The headland may betray us, but soon rain will wash it clean. Shall we go, before the Aturnians arrive?”

Brown leaves fall from the ironbark trees and blow across the camp as we chew on his words. I look to Marcus, beseeching.

“He will make the right choice,” my inner voice says.

The only thing is, I’m not entirely sure what the right choice is.

“Break camp!” Marcus orders, and I’m flooded with relief from head to toe.

“Now you know.”

Marcus limps over to Kaylin. “Thank you.” With a curt nod and an offer of his hand, he adds, “Don’t make me regret this.”