TANWEN
Wind can also be the enemy of a ship. As we left the Kurgarasi, a storm began to brew. The rain and thunder were yet to come, but wind announced the impending arrival with a howl.
At least I wouldn’t be half dead from making wind strands before we reached the port at Azu. But Wylie and the crewmen struggled to raise the sails and get them secured in the gale.
I pulled and tethered lines for a while, much greater help than I once was. But when the wind became too strong, Mor sent me belowdecks to get out of it.
I sipped bitter-bean brew beside Gryfelle’s bed while Karlith knitted. Gryfelle had not woken up since her episode in the Kurgarasi, and I wondered if she ever would.
I buried my nose in my bitter-bean and tried to ignore the squeeze in my heart at Gryfelle’s state.
“Ah!” Karlith said. “We’re underway.”
I paused and tried to feel what she felt, but I couldn’t tell we were moving until the Cethorelle dipped to one side.
She returned to her knitting, smiling. “You get used to the slight movements when you’re stuck belowdecks so much. Those little clues that let you know you’re moving again.”
“Has it been terrible down here?”
“Only because I have to watch Gryfelle worsen.” Karlith paused and looked at Gryfelle. “But she needs me. Lass’s mother should be here, but I’m happy to stand in that gap. She’s a lass without a mother, and I’m a mother without her babes.”
I stared at her. “Did you have children once, Karlith?” I had known she was married, of course. She was Karlith Ma-Lundir. But she hadn’t mentioned children before.
Karlith returned to her knitting. “Some things never stop hurting to speak of, Tannie, love.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t speak of them.” She knitted in silence a moment. “I had a son and a daughter. They would have been older than you now, but they were just wee ones when Gareth’s guards and the priests came for them.”
“The guards and priests came for them? Your children?” I kept waiting to find the end of the horror of Gareth Bo-Kelwyd, but I didn’t seem to have reached it yet.
“They came for Lundir. He was a songspinner, and he refused to register, refused to sing those two crowned songs. He wrote and sang the most beautiful ballads of the Creator, and no threats from Gareth would stop him. He knew they would come for him someday, and he was ready. He was ready to die for the truth. But when the little ones got in the way, the guards didn’t think twice, and I lost them all at once.”
I was shocked. “And then you escaped and went into hiding.”
“Yes, to the Corsyth,” said Karlith. “I was the first. I never imagined I’d have company there, but I was glad of it. And glad to have a family again when Warmil and Aeron came along. Then Dylun. And the three young ones.” She looked at Gryfelle.
I held Gryfelle’s cold, limp fingers while I bit down on my lip to keep it from trembling. “Karlith, I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll see them again, lass.” She smiled at me through sudden tears. “Mourning is for this life. I live for the next.”
“You say strange things sometimes, Karlith.”
“Aye.” She returned to her knitting, her smile widening. “But Tannie, my lass, just because something is strange doesn’t mean it ain’t true.”
With the force of the storm behind our sails, we made it to Azu in half the time Kanja expected. But I won’t lie. I was not looking forward to cruising through the sea gate out into open water in this wind. And what about when the rain hit?
Mor and Jule stood at the helm in deep discussion while the crew loaded up for our trip to the Spice Islands. I couldn’t help wishing we had made it there during the summer moons and not now as the weather chilled and autumn blew shivers down our spines.
I hadn’t spoken to Mor since our moment outside Gryfelle’s room, and I wasn’t sure if I should. Somehow avoiding him seemed to make things worse so that when we did finally speak or touch or make eye contact, everything exploded.
Maybe if I could talk to him about something normal, it would be like letting a little bit of steam from the kettle. Then there would be no explosions of strands we couldn’t control. Or near-kisses in the belly of the Cethorelle.
I tightened my shawl around my shoulders and strode his direction with feigned confidence.
“Ho, Mor. How goes it?”
“Captain.” Jule nodded to Mor and tipped his hat to me. “Tannie.” He took his leave.
Mor stared after him. “We’re hoping it will only take five days to get to the Islands, but this storm could slow us.”
I grabbed at that thread of conversation. “Have you been to the Islands before?”
“Some of them.”
“Some? How many are there?”
“About five hundred.”
“Five hundred! How will we ever find the right one?”
“We have a name—Kanac. And I’ve visited it before. It’s the major trading port of the Islands. The crown has an outpost there.”
“Says the pirate who probably raided it a time or two.”
“Or seven.”
“Seven! You’re a scoundrel.”
“This is news?” His eyes twinkled. But then his expression fell, and he averted his gaze. “I may have some other business to attend to while we’re there.”
“Other business? What could you possibly have to do in the Spice Islands?”
“Family business.”
I watched him. “Is this about Diggy?”
He waited a moment. Nodded slowly.
“You think there’s a chance she could be alive.” My mind jumped back to his strange phrasing—that he would give anything to see what she is like now, at seventeen.
“Unlikely.” He shrugged. “I might be a fool for bothering with this at all. But before we left, I asked around in Urian to see what I could find out. When they took her from me, they said she was payment for my father’s debts. That they would make her a palace servant. Then I ran off and sailed the world for two years. When I got back, I inquired after her as best I could without drawing attention to myself, but she was gone. She wasn’t working in the palace anymore, and I assumed she was dead.”
“But now you’ve found out something new?”
“While everyone was working on research in the palace libraries, I was caring for Gryfelle alongside Karlith. But I was also finding out everything I could about Diggy. A bit difficult, since so many people fled the palace when Gareth fell. But the head chef”—he thought a moment—“Ginia, I think. She remembered Diggy. Diggy had been a kitchen slave. She’d been mistreated pretty badly and become a favorite mark of some overseer servant there. So Ginia felt sorry for her and arranged a trade. Because of who our father was, she thought she might make a good cook on a ship.”
I stared at him. “So Diggy ended up on one of the king’s ships? And you think she may have made it to the Islands?”
“I’m almost sure she made it to the Islands—to Kanac, specifically, as that’s where the ship docked. And I’m just as sure she never made it back. Like I said, she really can’t be alive. She couldn’t possibly be, for she would have been a valuable servant—a girl with sailing and kitchen experience. The ship’s captain wouldn’t have left her on an island unless she was dead. But I would at least like to find out what happened. A fever, or something, perhaps, but I’m just not sure.”
“Of course you need to know.”
“Aye. I’ve regretted not going after her for four years now. I owe it to her to learn what happened at least.”
“There’s a tiny spark of hope still.” I took one step closer to him. “You don’t have to pretend there isn’t and insist it’s a fool’s errand. I know you. I can see it on your face and hear it in your voice. There is a chance she’s alive.”
He smiled a little. “Get out of my head, why don’t you?”
“Do you want me to go with you?” I asked. “When you go on your search, I mean.”
“Aye. It would be nice not to be alone.”
Oh, that it would.
I smiled easily and nodded and pretended that this was normal. Said we would make arrangements as soon as we got our bearings on the island.
Just letting a little steam from the kettle.