33

Ash

“What the chac’n stuggs was that?” I ask Marcus and Kaylin when their meeting with the captain is over.

“Just a heading adjustment. Kutoon may not take kindly to us sailing into their harbor unannounced so we will—”

“I mean the disappearing ant.”

Marcus leans against the rail, staring out to sea as the sloop cuts through the waves at high speed. “I’m not sure what I saw, thinking back. You were all blocking my view.”

“I’m sure.” I hold the rail lightly and rock with the sea. “It melted away, like a phantom going to ground.”

“Just like that.” Kaylin joins Marcus in his gaze of the horizon.

“So it was a phantom?”

He nods again.

The thought makes me lightheaded. “Who’s ever heard of one so small, and on top of that, we’re at sea. It can’t go to ground. Can it?”

Both Marcus and I wait on Kaylin’s response, but all he does is shrug.

“Not a phantom of a shipboard savant, obviously,” Marcus speculates. “But what if it came onboard by itself, from Baiseen or Nonnova?”

“Or Bakton?” I shiver. “But how could a savant keep their phantom up that long, from that far away?” I exhale hard.

“It would have to be a red-robe,” Marcus says.

“But it’s too small.”

“Ask Kaylin,” my inner voice says.

I lock eyes with Kaylin. “If you know something about this, it’s time to say so.” I realize I’m snapping, but really. Between yesterday on Bakton, Master Brogal’s cold words, and the headache pounding between my temples, I’m not feeling patient. My people need to say what they know. Right now.

He nods, a hint of a smile lifting one side of his face. “Phantoms cannot be raised on the sea.”

“Already discussed,” Marcus says, crossing his arms.

“But,” Kaylin goes on. “Phantoms can be killed anywhere.”

Marcus scratches his stubbled chin. “How would they return to their savant?”

My question exactly.

“We’re still hugging Tangeen, on the shore side of the deep-sea trench. The water is only a few fathoms deep, so maybe it could have gone to ground. Another possibility is, if it be a phantom, the savant could have been fully with it,” Kaylin says.

“Meaning the savant died, and there was nothing to return to?” Marcus looks even more puzzled, but the thought sparks an idea in me.

“Kaylin, have you seen this kind of phantom before?”

He studies the sea, brow pinched as if trying to remember, but I can tell he’s deciding on how much to say. I wish I knew what it was that holds him back. Surely if he could, he would tell me all, wouldn’t he?

“Much like it.” Finally, he nods. “It was a type of alter—”

“But the size,” Marcus interrupts.

“Small, I know. I came upon it in the far northern waters just shy of the frozen pole. The alter could fragment,” Kaylin says.

“Fragment?” Marcus says.

“Break into multiple aspects of the one?” I whisper at the same time, rolling the concept around in my mind. “You’re saying that little green ant was a part of a larger phantom?”

“I’ve seen it,” Kaylin admits.

“Well, I haven’t,” Marcus says, “and I’m the savant here.” His face contorts for a moment. “The smallest phantom extracts the highest price.”

“What the Bone Thrower said?” I whisper.

“That might fit,” Kaylin says. “But such a small fragment doesn’t look like it could do more than give a nasty sting or bite. Not a very high price. And if they disperse, even in opposite directions, it can take years to fully return to the savant and reform.”

“How do you know that, exactly?” Marcus wrinkles his nose like the milk has gone sour.

“Learned it in Avon Eyre. There was a fragmenting alter there, among their clan.”

That shuts us both up. No one in our lifetime has ever gone to the Sanctuary of Avon Eyre and returned. Most think it’s a mythical place, reserved for stories and tales. And indeed, it seems in a different location in every map I see.

“Only a red-robe or higher can direct a fragmenting alter, from what I gathered,” Kaylin says as if he didn’t just speak casually of the far northern isle of mystery that may or may not exist.

“Higher than a red-robe?” I ask. “You mean, a black-robe?”

“Aye. A master Bone Thrower. There are none on land more powerful.”

On land? It’s an odd way to put it.

“He’s like that, isn’t he?” My inner voice sounds whimsical, and I roll my eyes.

If you mean cryptic and evasive at times, then yes, he is. But I admit, I’m more intrigued than irritated. Much more.

“I’ll tell the others.” Marcus looks determined. “We have to be alert, in case there are more of them about.”

“Perhaps ask if they recall seeing these creatures along the journey.” Kaylin says it lightly, but it startles me like a splash of cold water.

“We have!” Why didn’t I remember this before?

They don’t answer, and I realize why their brows go up. Viz spit’n memory gaps. But I have it now. “Belair was bitten.” I turn to Marcus. “In Clearwater, at the blacksmith’s shop. We had the horses checked on the way to Aku?”

“Don’t recall, but there was a line of green ants in Baiseen while we were making repairs.” Marcus rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know if any were bitten. Piper might.”

“There are green ants almost everywhere in the world, you know,” Kaylin reminds us. “It’s just a theory, that it might be a fragmenting alter.”

“But this ant on the galley table…” My mind whirls with the possibilities. “It vanished like smoke on the wind.”

“Or a phantom called back to ground,” Marcus says. “Over the sea—which means it died?”

“Your phantom was underwater for longer than you can hold your breath, and he didn’t die.” I tap my chin. “Is it possible that everything a phantom can and can’t do isn’t common knowledge, even to savants?” I ask.

“Aye, lass. It’s possible,” Kaylin answers before Marcus can. He pushes off from the railing. “I’ll talk to the captain and see if he’s noticed these insects. Perhaps there’s a nest.”

“I’ll go with you.” I step out to follow Kaylin, but Marcus holds me back. “I could use you when we tell the others. We want to alert them, but not alarm. You’re better at that than me.”

I’m torn between missing an opportunity to talk with Kaylin alone and wanting to support Marcus. “All right, Marcus. Lead the way.”

He puts his arm over my shoulder and guides me below.