Shadows (26 page)

Three hours after dawn, they sighted the islands.

Mara, in the bow, studied them. Hilly and forested, they were separated from each other by a stretch of water that from here looked narrow enough to wade across, though that was surely an illusion. She didn't see any ships, though.

“They're in a bay on the western side,” Chell told her when she asked. “So they could weigh anchor and flee if a force came this way from the mainland. But there will be lookouts in the hills. They will already have seen us.”

“You said this was the agreed-upon rendezvous,” Keltan said. “You also said there's a deadline. What would have happened if you'd missed it? Would they have come looking for you?”

“No,” the prince said. “I gave them strict orders to wait here for six weeks. If I did not return, or send word by one of the men who went with me—”

“The men who drowned?” Mara said, and then could have kicked herself. “Sorry.”

“Yes, the men who drowned,” Chell said gently. “The men who saved my life first. They and their families will be honored by my father upon my return.”

“Sorry,” Mara mumbled again.

“If they did not hear from me,” Chell continued, “then one ship was to sail back to Korellia to report to my father, while the other would begin a search along the coast.”

“Six weeks?” Keltan said. “Cutting it pretty fine, aren't you?”

“Very,” the prince said. “But by my count, I still have a day to spare.”

“A sail!” Mara cried, and Chell peered around the mast to see what she had seen: coming around the southern headland of the northernmost island, putting the lie to the illusion that the channel between the two was something you could wade across, was the largest vessel she had ever seen—larger than she had ever imagined a ship
could
be. Three masts seemed to pierce the sky above towering wooden flanks that were black at the waterline and gold above. Square sails dropped and blossomed like flower petals as she watched.

“
Protector
,” said Chell softly. “My flagship.”

The ship swelled in size with astonishing speed. Chell sailed on toward it for a time, then brought the fishing boat up into the wind, sail shaking, and waited.
Protector
came on, slowed, and copied his move, turning into the wind and slowing, sails folding up as it did so, until the two vessels, large and small, bobbed side by side, perhaps twenty yards between them. Chell had a huge grin on his face; he looked happier than Mara had ever seen him.

She turned from him to that amazing ship. She could feel the magic nestled in the dozens of crewmen. Her hands trembled.

“Prince Chell!” boomed a voice from the ship, where sailors were standing all along the guardrail now, staring and pointing. “You're truly a sight for sore eyes, Sire!”

Mara spotted the speaker. High up on the raised deck at the stern of the ship, he wore a black coat whose sleeves were covered with gold braid, and a tall black hat with a golden feather in it.

“As are you, Captain March!” Chell shouted back. “Bring us aboard! And send a message to
Defender
. We must set course for the mainland at once.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The captain turned and spoke to someone behind him in a voice too low for Mara to hear. A rope ladder was flung over the side of the ship, while high above, brightly colored flags rose, marked with contrasting shapes: squares and triangles and circles and more.
Some kind of messaging system
, Mara guessed.

Chell was lowering the sail. He stowed it loosely around the boom, then put the oars into the rowlocks and rowed toward
Protector
. Mara stared up at the ship's towering black side and wondered how anything so large could possible float.

A sailor hung easily from the ladder, a boathook in one hand. He hooked the fishing boat as Chell brought it alongside. A moment later, Mara was following the two young men up that giant wall of painted planks. A moment after that, she stood on the deck of the giant ship and looked around.

Dozens of sailors, all dressed in black trousers and black jackets over white shirts, golden scarves at their neck, feet bare despite the chill, stared back at her.

Captain March descended from the high deck at the stern, sailors falling in to either side as he passed. He stared at Chell for an instant, then reached out and pulled the prince to him in a rough embrace that Chell returned. “You're looking thin, Your Highness,” said the captain as he released him. Captain March had the same odd accent as Chell. “But I'm more pleased than I can say to see you alive. We feared the worst. Tomorrow I would have sent
Defender
back to Korellia and begun the search.”

“It's been an . . . interesting few weeks,” Chell said.

“The men who accompanied you?” the captain asked.

“Dead,” Chell said simply.

The captain's face tightened. “At whose hand?” He gave Keltan a suspicious look.

“The sea's,” said Chell. “Captain, I will tell you everything, but perhaps my cabin would be a more appropriate location?”

March's face colored a little. “Of course, Your Highness.” He turned. “Midshipman Lizik! Escort His Royal Highness and his guests to his cabin.”

“Aye, aye, sir!” A boy about Keltan's age, dressed in a miniature version of the captain's uniform but with far less gold braid, stepped forward. “Your Highness,” he said to the prince, then nodded to Keltan and Mara. “Gentleman and lady. If you'll follow me.”

He led them toward the high rear deck, but rather than climbing up the gangway, took them through a red-painted door and down a short hallway into a large cabin that stretched the width of the ship. High glass windows looked out over the sea astern.

Mara stared around. The room dripped with wealth. Red brocade, cloth-of-gold, crystal and silver: everywhere she looked, something glowed or sparkled. She shot a glance at Chell. He looked slightly embarrassed. “My quarters,” he said. “I am a prince, you know.” He turned to the midshipman. “Thank you, Mr. Lizik. Please tell the captain I will speak to him at his earliest convenience.”

The young officer nodded and went out.

Even Keltan looked impressed, Mara saw. “I confess,” he said, “that I doubted your story . . . until now.”

“I suppose I can't blame you for that,” Chell said. He looked down at himself and grimaced. “I must change,” he said. He gestured at a sideboard laden with goblets, mugs, bottles, and decanters. “Help yourself to a drink, if you like.” He disappeared behind a screen in the corner.

Keltan crossed to the sideboard, Mara trailing him. He ran his fingers over the decanters. “I don't even know what any of this is,” he said. He picked up a crystal decanter filled with a bright blue liquid and sniffed it. “Fruity,” he said. He poured some into two small glasses and handed one to Mara. “To a successful rescue,” he said.

“I'll drink to that,” Mara said, and sipped from the glass.

It might have smelled like fruit juice; it tasted like liquid fire. She burst out coughing. Keltan managed not to cough, but he blinked rapidly. “Wow,” he said.

“Wow,” Mara agreed. She took another sip. It was better than the first, and it certainly had a warming effect on her sea-air-chilled body.

The prince emerged from behind the screen, and Mara gaped. He wore skin-tight white pants, pushed into tall boots of black, polished leather, and above that, a golden jacket over a snow-white shirt whose ruffled collar and cuffs showed at the neck and wrists. He had brushed back his long hair and tied it into a neat ponytail, held in place by a golden bow. As he emerged, he was buckling on a sword with an elaborate basket hilt studded with red-and-green gems. The scabbard, too, glittered; a line of rubies ran its length.

He looked, in short, like a prince, and Mara's ears burned as she remembered the night in the magic hut.
He must have thought me nothing more than a silly little girl
, she thought.
How could I ever have thought . . .

Chell saw what they had in their glasses and he laughed. “When I offered a drink,” he said, “I really didn't expect you to choose the skyberry brandy. A glass or two of that and you'll be cross-eyed.” He came over to the sideboard. “Try the wine, instead.” He picked up an unopened bottle, tugged out the cork and poured a healthy helping of the rich red liquid into three glasses. Mara took hers, remembering a night on the beach just a few weeks ago when she had tasted wine for the first time. Keltan had been there, too. So much had happened since then. She sipped the wine. It went down much easier than the skyberry brandy had.

There came a knock at the door. “Enter!” Chell called, and the door swung inward. Captain March came in, removing his tall hat as he entered . . . pretty much a necessity, since the captain was so tall even without the hat that his head almost brushed the cabin's ceiling beams. “Your Highness,” he said. “
Defender
is on her way and will rendezvous with us within the half hour.”

“Good.” Chell poured another glass of wine for the captain. “There is much you need to know before she gets here . . .”

For the next few minutes Chell told the captain everything that had happened to him since he had set out to scout the shoreline. It seemed odd to Mara to hear someone else's perspective on events she had experienced firsthand. For Chell, everything was part of his larger mission to find magical help for Korellia's fight against Stonefell. As he described their escape from Tamita, the captain turned startled eyes on Mara. She lowered her gaze and concentrated on her wine.

“We will get no help from the Autarch of Aygrima,” Prince Chell concluded. “But if we can help the unMasked Army overthrow him, then we will have access to magic once more . . . the magic we need to withstand and overcome Stonefell.”

Captain March looked from the prince to Mara, then back to the prince. “Permission to speak freely, Your Highness?”

“Always, Captain March.” Chell frowned. “I can't remember you ever feeling you had to ask before.”

“Your Highness,” the captain said, “if what you say of this lass's magical ability is true,” (there was more than a hint of skepticism in his voice, and for an instant Mara imagined ripping magic out of him and setting fire to the ship, just to prove how true the prince's account was, but she squelched the notion instantly, horrified it had even occurred to her), “then why do we need the unMasked Army at all?” He pointed at Mara. “She alone could open the sea gates that protect Stonefell.”

Chell's eyes narrowed. “We cannot compel her,” he said. “She has saved my life and is under my protection. If she chooses to help us, I will welcome it; but as I understand it,” he shot Mara a glance, “she is at great risk if she continues to use her magic in the fashion I have described.”

Mara carefully set down her empty wineglass. Between it and the blueberry brandy, she was feeling unusually forthright. “If I continue to use my magic in the fashion the prince has described, Captain March,” she said, clearly enunciating each word, “I am told I will turn into a murderous, unstoppable monster who would gladly rip the life out of you and every member of your crew, and then move on to lay waste to all of Korellia and possibly the rest of the world.” She gave him a sweet smile. “It's rather tempting at the moment.”

The captain's lips drew into a thin line. His attention snapped back to the prince. “As you decree, of course, Your Highness.”

“I decree,” said Chell, “that Mara and Keltan are my guests, under my personal protection, and are to be treated with all due honor and respect during their time on this ship.”

The captain inclined his head. “Of course, Your Highness.”

“Good.” The prince glanced up and to the left, and Mara, following his look, saw through the port windows that a second ship, smaller than the
Protector
but not by much, had moved into position alongside. “The
Defender
has joined us, I see,” he said. “You have your orders, Captain. Set a course: due east to the mainland. We have an army to rescue.”

“As you command, Your Highness.” The captain inclined his head again, tucked his tall hat under his arm, turned sharply, and went out, the door clicking closed behind him.

“I don't think,” Mara said, “that he likes me very much.”

Chell snorted. “You told him you could quite possibly kill him, his crew, and all my subjects,” he said. “Not the best way to make friends.”

To her own surprise, Mara felt a flash of anger at that. “And he threatened to have me locked up and dragged back to Korellia to be used as an unwilling secret weapon against Stonefell.”

“Well,” said Chell judiciously, “not in so many words. But I do see your point.” He grinned suddenly. “Captain March is a fine man, and a loyal subject, and the best captain in the navy, in my opinion, but he is also a rather stiff and pompous stick-in-the-mud. I confess I rather enjoyed you pricking his bubble like that.”

Mara's anger vanished as quickly as it had come, and she chuckled; inside, though, a small part of her worried.

Her words to the captain hadn't been an idle threat. Quite possibly she really
could
do those things. And the worst of it was . . . though she wasn't there yet, she could imagine
wanting
to.

She shivered, and poured herself another glass of wine, then sat down in a comfortable chair to enjoy it.

Perhaps it was the wine or just the general shortage of quality sleep she'd experienced over the past few days, but she jerked awake some time later to find the cabin swinging back and forth with the motion of the ship, and the sky outside already darkening toward night.

Keltan, she saw, slept deeply on a nearby couch. Of the prince there was no sign. Mara got up and explored, finding what she sought in a little chamber nestled in one corner with a rather alarming opening directly above the water. Feeling refreshed and
very
awake—the air coming up through that hole had been
cold!
—she returned to the cabin to find a plate of cold meat, bread, cheese, and pickles on the table, along with three additional plates, two untouched, one covered with crumbs. The prince had obviously eaten and let them sleep. Mara set to with a will, and a few minutes later Keltan, yawning and tousle-haired, joined her. “Where . . . ?” he began, and she pointed to the chamber in the corner. He disappeared into it and reappeared a few minutes later looking happier and as wide awake as she felt.