Kalenek

The Baretam had reached Armania and dropped anchor just outside the Port of Everton. The harbor was filled with so many boats that Kal couldn’t see the shore from the main deck. He went up to the quarterdeck, where Emperor Ulrik stood with Captain Durinn.

“Sir Kalenek,” Ulrik said, motioning to starboard. “Someone comes to visit us.”

Kal walked to the railing, saw the approaching dinghy, and withdrew his grow lens from his pocket. A quick look and he instantly recognized the King’s Guard uniforms. What relief! Perhaps Kal would finally get back to Wilek.

“Sailors from the Seffynaw,” he told Ulrik. “I’ll talk to them.”

“Excellent,” Ulrik said. “I will receive them in the great cabin.”

Kal nodded and walked away, uncertain whether or not he would obey the young emperor. The boy had taken an instant liking to his new crown, but Kal’s allegiance was to Wilek. If he had a chance to get off this boat, he would take it. And he could not allow Ulrik to claim Onika for himself.

He went all the way to the foredeck, where the dinghy was being hoisted up the side of the Baretam. He grabbed a nearby sailor. “Fetch Empress Inolah, the man named Jhorn, the boy Grayson, the prophetess Onika, and her cat,” he told the man. “I must have them all. Tell them we are leaving.”

“Master Burk as well, sir?”

“No,” Kal said. “If he is with them, it cannot be helped. But do not seek him out.”

“Yes, sir.” The sailor ran off.

Kal felt a twinge of guilt at leaving Burk behind, but the boy did not belong with them anymore. He would need to find his own way.

Kal studied the destruction of Everton. Throughout the city, clouds of dust puffed up like chimney smoke, and actual fires were spreading. Over a dozen ships had already set sail and were headed out of the harbor.

The dinghy reached the top, and the King’s Guards boarded. They instantly recognized Kal, though he did not recall their names.

“Sir Kalenek,” the first said, “a terrible earthquake has spurred an evacuation of the city.”

“The quakes keep coming,” said the other. “On and off for the past hour.”

“The people have gone mad,” said the first. “Admiral Vendal says it’s best you keep these ships back, where they’ll be safe from the mob.”

That message must be given to the captain, but Kal did not want to risk lingering where the emperor might insist he stay. He grabbed another sailor and bid him take the message of keeping the ship back to Captain Durinn.

Inolah approached then. Jhorn vaulted along behind her with Onika, Grayson, and Rustian following a few steps back. No Burk. Good. Kal sighed, relieved. They just might escape without trouble.

He watched Grayson. The boy’s aging had finally slowed during the long sea voyage from Jeruka to Everton. Had Burk been walking with him, they would have looked the same age, despite Grayson being only eight years old.

So strange.

Inolah reached Kal first. “I must take the prophetess to Sâr Wilek,” he told her.

She stepped close and whispered, “Ulrik will not allow it.”

“Onika is not his,” Kal said. “She must go to Wilek.”

Inolah glanced at the pale prophetess. “You must leave quickly then.”

Kal set his hand on Jhorn’s shoulder and addressed the King’s Guards. “Board this man and his companions.”

“The youngsters first,” Jhorn said.

The guards grabbed Onika and lifted her over the side and into the dinghy. Grayson went next. Rustian leapt up onto the railing, ran along it, and hopped down beside Onika.

Inolah took Kal’s hand, tears in her eyes. “I could not bear it if so many years passed before I saw you again, my friend.”

Her words pricked his heart. “I hope you will visit the Seffynaw soon.”

She kissed his cheek. “Tell Wilek I will come. I promise.” She released his hand and started up the steps to the stern deck.

Kal hefted himself over the side and sat between Grayson and Onika. He noticed Jhorn then, still on the ship, peeking over the railing, eyes bloodshot.

“What are you doing?” Kal asked.

“I’m staying on the Baretam.”

“And abandoning your charges?”

“I can’t be seen on the Seffynaw. If anyone wondered over Grayson’s skin, word of a legless man would confirm their suspicions. I’ll stay with the empress for now. Keep them safe for me?”

Grayson and Onika were both crying, yet neither protested. Jhorn must have prepared them for this.

“I will guard them with my life,” Kal said.

Jhorn nodded, took one last glance at Onika and Grayson, then vaulted away.

Dazed, Kal signaled to the sailors on the Baretam. The dinghy jerked and began to lower toward the sea.