A Dance of Dragons: Series Starter Bundle (31 page)

Rhen shook his head and stared out at the
horizon, letting the wind whip his hair.

The men on deck were avoiding him, not even
looking at him. If they did happen to meet his eyes, they
immediately bowed their heads out of respect. Even the captain was
treading lightly, speaking in hushed tones to his men and only
talking to Rhen with polite pleasantries.

This was how a prince was supposed to be
treated, he tried to remind himself, with respect—especially on
board a ship that was built for less than lawful activities. He was
not surprised at how polite and disingenuous everyone was
acting.

But it hurt, nonetheless. Because all it did
was remind Rhen how different things had been with Captain Pygott,
a man who had felt more like a father to him than the king at
times. More caring certainly. And his men had understood that all
Rhen wanted was to feel included.

On the
Old Maid
, Rhen was nothing
more than an extra set of hands. On the
Skipping Stone
, he
was a burden.

Over his shoulder, Captain Jelaric stood
relaxed behind the wheel, laughing with his first mate.

Things were better this way, but that didn't
mean Rhen had to like it.

Hence, the sulking.

Okay, fine, the sulking might have had a
little something to do with Jin, too. Rhen missed the boy. Despite
the secrets he knew Jin was keeping, they had become true friends.
They trusted each other. And more than anything, they understood
each other. Unlike Cal, who seemed to battle Rhen at every turn,
Jin got him. It was easier to talk to him.

Well, usually.

"Land ho!"

Rhen lifted his head, looking up from his
twiddling thumbs to focus on the horizon. A flat stretch of brown
and green land was sandwiched between two limitless blues.

Whylkin.

Home.

Warmth flooded his chest. He was almost back
in Rayfort. Almost back to Ember. Almost back to his brothers.

He searched for the seam, the break in the
shoreline. A little to the left, he saw it. The land faded away and
for a brief instant, sky and sea were connected once more.

The Straits.

They were a place of myth, of legend.

They were something Jin should see.

Finally, Rhen had the conversation starter
he was looking for.

Before he could change his mind, Rhen spun
and raced for the steps. He paused for just a moment outside the
door, taking one deep breath, and then plunged in headfirst.

Jin sat with his arms crossed, staring
through the circular window on the far side of the room. He didn’t
hear Rhen enter, too lost in his thoughts. His shoulders were
hunched over, even his eyebrows looked heavy.

Rhen cleared his throat.

Jin sprung to life, turning in fright but
relaxing the instant his eyes fell on Rhen. Half a second later,
the boy's lids widened. His body tensed. And before Rhen could even
open his mouth to speak, Jin was out of the chair.

"I must speak to you. Please don't
leave."

Rhen stepped farther into the room, closing
the door behind him. "I came to talk too." He pulled the large
wooden chair from behind the captain's desk, dragging it behind him
until it rested across from Jin. He didn’t realize he was sweating
until a cool breeze fluttered against his warm cheeks, prickling
his skin.

"I'm sorry," Rhen said, still not looking at
Jin, instead focusing on the white puff of a cloud outside.

"Please, I must tell you something," the boy
said, so softly that Rhen almost couldn't hear. There was a
vulnerability in that tone, something he had never heard from Jin
before. Not in that way. He had heard the boy talk with sadness,
with longing, but never with such openness.

That was enough to make Rhen meet his muddy
eyes, tight with worry.

"You were right, I have been hiding
something from you," Jin said. Rhen leaned forward, placing his
weight on his forearms, invested in what would come next. Jin did
the opposite—he pulled his knees into his chest, curling into a
tight little ball.

"I knew." The boy dipped his head into his
knees, breathing deeply before looking up once more. "I dropped
that lamp because I knew you would do something. I didn’t know
what, but I knew the fire wouldn't hurt you."

This was it. What Rhen had been waiting
for—Jin's secret. He licked his lips with anticipation. "How?"

"I could see it," Jin said, hesitantly
releasing one word at a time.

Rhen tilted his head, confused. "See
it?"

The boy nodded. "I can see them—the
elemental spirits—earth, air, water, and fire. They're in
everything, everywhere. And the fire spirits cling to you, they
latch onto your skin, they fuse to you. I had never seen anything
like it before I met you. So I knew, I knew the fire wouldn't,
couldn't hurt you. Because you are fire, Rhen."

I am fire
, Rhen thought as lightness
sparked in his chest. He was fire. He had never thought of it that
way, but something about the wording was perfect. Was right.

"And is that all? You just see them?"

Jin hugged his legs tighter, biting his lip,
nostrils flaring as he looked at the ground.

Rhen held his breath.

There was more.

Everything in Jin's body language told him
the boy was hiding something.

Suddenly, Jin looked up, a grin slowly
spreading across his face, as though he had just discovered
something, just realized something. His eyes glowed gold with
excitement.

They looked almost familiar…

"That's not it," Jin said, sitting tall. "I
can't control it, but sometimes, the spirits help me, like they're
guiding me. I felt it the day we met, after you saved me. I felt
the trees slide out of my way as I ran to save you. I felt it
during the attack. The winds blew harder against our enemies,
sending their weapons off track. And I felt it a few days ago when
I went to the palace—as though the spirits led me to the princess
and to you."

Rhen didn’t know what to say, how to
respond. He was too shocked. The spirits didn’t choose people, did
they? Rhen had certainly never felt chosen.

In his silence, Jin shrunk a little. His
excitement wilted.

"I would have told you," Jin said meekly,
"but I didn't think you would believe me. And that's why I threw
the light. I wanted to make sure I wasn't crazy—that the fire did
speak to you."

"It does," Rhen said. Jin perked up. "For as
long as I can remember, fire has called to me, cajoled me. But
that's all. I can't create it. I can't move it. All I can do is
reach into the flames and pull them under my skin."

"That's enough." Jin smiled. It was
contagious.

"Enough for what?"

"Enough for us to believe each other."

"What else do you need me to believe?"

"The shadow," Jin said, low and ominous.
Before Rhen could ask, words spilled from the boy's mouth,
confessing the truth about what had happened to his people.

A massacre.

Total destruction by one of their own.

It was never the Ourthuri, but Rhen decided
that didn’t matter, not now, not when Jin was reliving the most
devastating memory of his entire life. It changed nothing. King
Razzaq would still need to be dealt with. And Jin would still need
a friend and caretaker.

But this shadow was something unheard of.
Bodily possession? Mind control? The longer Jin spoke, the more
Rhen wanted to believe him. His words dripped with agony, with
truthfulness. He said he saw a bleak emptiness in place of eyes,
darkness in place of a soul.

When Jin was done talking, tears rolled down
his cheeks. His eyes were red, puffy. His breathing was deep, as
though speaking had been more strenuous than even a battle.

Rhen reached out and squeezed his upper arm,
trying to infuse comfort.

"I will help you," he said, emphasizing his
honesty with one more tight squeeze of his hand. "We will defeat
this shadow, together."

Jin nodded, smiling weakly.

Rhen returned it more reassuringly. The boy
sounded mad, crazed. Rhen didn't believe in this spiritual beast,
but he believed that Jin thought it was real. And that was enough
for now.

"Come." Rhen nodded toward the door. "There
is something I want to show you."

"What?"

"You have to see it." He grinned slyly,
satisfied when he saw Jin's brows knit together and his eyes
twinkle with interest.

They both needed this.

They both needed some fun.

When they emerged on deck, Rhen felt the
crew staring. A prince and an Arpapajo—this was the stuff of
excellent gossip. But he didn't mind, because not being alone
somehow made all the difference.

Looking at the horizon, Rhen saw the land
had enlarged, taking up a deeper portion of the sky. He could make
out jagged cliff faces, the tops of pointed pines, flat grassy
hilltops, even the smallest bit of gold ore shimmering against the
sun. The western shore of Whylkin was not for the faint of heart.
The waters roared in from the chaos of the dueling sea, where warm
southwestern currents met with cold northern tides and crashed
against the coast in an endless battle, cutting the land into steep
walls of rock. Quite different compared to the calm beachy shores
of the southeastern lands.

But Rhen preferred the wildness—the
mysticism, the magic mirrored in his own soul.

There was a little bit of time before the
ship would enter the Straits, a river running through the center of
a deep ravine—just enough time to reach the perfect viewpoint.

Knowing Jin followed, Rhen stepped to the
edge of the ship, reaching for the ropes knotted into a climbable
structure. They were going back to the crow's nest.

Gripping firmly with one hand, he pulled,
loving how his muscles burned to life. Every nerve singed with the
mix of pain and pleasure, of exertion.

The crew began to stare more openly the
higher Rhen climbed, looking on in awe at a royal son so
comfortable on the water—a royal son who could scale the ropes just
as naturally as one of them.

When he reached the top, his chest was
heaving, but his face was plastered with a smile.
The gods!
It felt good to be in the fresh air, the open water. He had to
savor these moments, because in no time he would be stuck behind
the palace walls, under the all too close watch of his father.

"Rhen," Jin gasped.

He spun, smirking at the small boy a few
feet below him, hugging more than climbing the ropes.

"Give me your hand," he said, reaching down.
When Jin held on tight, Rhen pulled him up, still mildly surprised
at how weightless he felt. At the same age, Rhen was probably twice
or three times his size.

But I was training to be a knight
, he
reminded himself. Jin had trained for nothing more than hunting
game in the woods. And arrows were a lot lighter than
broadswords.

The boy would grow with time.

"Hold onto the edge if you need to, but try
to stay standing," Rhen said, turning easily on his feet as they
swayed with the boat.

The Straits were closer.

"Have you ever heard of the Great
Flood?"

No answer came.

Rhen turned to find Jin struggling to stand.
He reached his hand out to steady the boy, but Jin shied away,
gripping the edge of the wood even harder, until his tanned hands
turned almost white.

Stubborn.

"Legend says that thousands of years ago,
humans weren't always alone in this world. Other creatures lived
among us. Some believe they were giant beasts able to tear trees
clean from the ground. Others say they were more cunning
creatures—small and terrible that would wreak unseen havoc. And
still others claim they were monsters that fed on the blood of
children, enslaving us under their reign of doom."

Rhen paused to look at Jin, who, he
begrudgingly admitted, didn't seem the least bit scared or
frightened—not the reaction Rhen had been hoping for. These were
the sorts of stories that only felt satisfying when the listener
was cowering in fear—not mildly aloof and turning slightly
green.

No matter, Rhen loved to tell it anyway. He
imagined Captain Pygott—blue eyes gleaming against less-wrinkled
skin, voice hushed and restrained. The captain hadn't been the
first to tell him of the Great Flood, but he had been the best.

"We'll never know the truth," Rhen
continued, "but we do know one thing—the earth was on our side.
These creatures were unnatural, were destroying the world around
them. They had no regard for the natural order. Their powers tested
the fates, reversed the paths laid down for us by the gods, and
because of that, the humans were granted a weapon—nature itself
would rise to do our bidding, would help us defeat them.

"So, on the eve of a great war, the humans
gathered. Different races, different peoples from all over the
world joined together in one place to pray to the spirits, to the
earth, to save us. And we were heard."

At that, Jin did begin to pay attention. His
body stiffened. Rhen bit his cheek to fight off a grin.

"The spirits listened?" The boy asked,
wonder coloring his words.

"They did." Rhen nodded. "As our enemies
marched their warriors closer and closer, nature fought against
them. Wind crushed buildings to the ground. The earth rumbled
beneath their feet, breaking into cracks that swallowed entire
villages whole. Fire rained from the skies, burning these creatures
alive. But still, they kept on marching, kept on coming. The humans
would die, would be enslaved by the all powerful creatures that
were stronger than the world itself."

"How did we escape? What did we do?"

"We didn't do anything. The gods did, the
spirits did. They sent a wave of water taller than the highest
mountain over the land. It drowned the entire world, covering the
earth in an endless sea, killing all but the most devout humans who
had gathered here, at the base of the realm of the gods, the
mountains we now call the Gates. It was the Great Flood. And when
the waters receded, all that remained were the lands of Whylkin and
the handful of islands we now call the Kingdom of Ourthuro.
Everything and everyone else was buried, lost to the world for all
time."