Fireborn Champion (20 page)

As the powerful Western Sapphire current caught their boat, they rolled and rocked upon the waves, sliding achingly slowly into the unknown. Once the horizon snatched Spineshell’s ruins and no sign of Caspran marred the sea, Iron relaxed.

Silence sent his mind wandering until it settled on thoughts of home. He wondered if their cabin still stood against the thundersnows and the billowy drifts they left behind them. Maybe more wolves had come and torn the place apart. Maybe the odd wandering tribe of wild men ransacked the treasures of knowledge within, burning the books and parchments for warmth instead of learning. Perhaps Caspran himself sought the cabin out. Iron practically heard the alp’s feet creak on the rough floorboards. He saw the silvery razors that hovered around the demon like moths around a flame.

His heart ached for home. Iron had none now and didn’t realize what kind of pit it left within him. He’d throw Fang into the sea with a smile on his face if he knew it would bring him back to that cabin one day so he could ride the furious storms once again. If only…

“They fell into the waters,” Ayska said. She sat, hands folded in her lap and eyes staring at an empty sea. “I was their captain. I was their friend, their family. They’re dead because I couldn’t protect them, and now they won’t even have a proper burial.”

Iron searched her features, looking for a soft spot in that emotionless exterior. “It’s my fault, not yours. If I’d only been stronger, maybe I could’ve done something.”

“Except that wasn’t your job, it was
mine
. I hate this world and the gods who made it, Iron. I really do.”

Sander listened, now cleaning his nails from his seat. Her words gave him pause, and his eyes flicked to Iron and back again.

“Is this the world the Six wanted?” she wondered. “This is the kind of life they meant for their creation?”
 

Her mask cracked behind the fury in her eyes. She stood and spread her arms to the sea. “You bastards! I told my crew I’d protect them. I told them they were safe. I had faith in you, even after my family was nearly destroyed, even after the Godfall, even after I lost everything, I still kept my faith. This is your repayment for my devotion? I hate you.
I hate you!
”

Her voice echoed over the waves. Just like the gods, the stars did little more than stare at the show. Ayska shuddered and dipped her chin. Thick braids swept over her shoulders and veiled her features. “In the end, I broke my words to them, and they died in chains. They were loyal to me. I should’ve been loyal to them.”

“There is a way to stop them, Ayska.” Iron inched closer to her, rolling to his knees.
 

“No one has ever killed an alp.” Ayska bit her trembling lip. “They are the new gods. The Six left us to die beneath the Serpent Sun.”

“There is a way to stop this insanity. We’ll have vengeance for what Caspran did to them. The circle is broken, but if we seal it—if you and me seal it—we can kill the alp, kill the king, and free Urum from this war once and for all.”

“I want them to die. I want them and all the serpents to suffer like they’ve made me suffer. I hate them.” Her features twisted in a furious snarl. “I hate them, Iron, and I want to see them punished for what they’ve done.”

“And I vow to help you do it. We’ll find this circle and seal it. Whatever it is, it’s the key to stopping them.” His hands covered hers, and he squeezed. “As the Sinner slips me from death’s grasp, so shall I swear to keep my word. You will have your vengeance for their murders. I’ll find a way to stop Caspran, Sol, and his cult.”

Sander’s breath caught, and the boat rocked as he lurched from his seat. “A Sinner’s Oath? That is
serious
, boy. You—”

“Cannot break it. I think I know the rules.” Iron shot him a scowl before returning a warm smile to Ayska. “Your crew were the first people I met in Urum who showed me kindness, and because of Caspran, because of
me
, they’re dead. I’ll find the broken circle, and when I do, I’ll use it as a weapon and cut out his heart. I swear it.”

Sander’s lips pressed into a line, and he gave a slight nod, retreating to his seat. Ayska’s hands rotated out of his, softly caressing his knuckles. She pressed her lips into a line and nodded, acknowledging his promise.
 

“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

She pulled away and continued her dull gaze into the distance. Sander reclined on his seat and pulled his hood over his eyes. Kalila, as always, stared at the world from the bottom of an abyss.

The days rolled by on the tortuous skiff as it crawled over the sea. A week came and went, and still, no Rosvoi islands. Ayska told Iron the current flowed weakly for them, another sign their supposed gods had fled if they ever lorded over Urum in the first place.
 

Iron forgot the firmness of solid ground beneath his feet. Only a gentle rocking remained. Overhead, the sun scorched his brow and peeled flakes of skin from his cracked and bleeding lips. They yearned for water he couldn’t give them. Soon, they would empty their last flagon of water, and if the islands didn’t appear…well, he didn’t want to think what might happen then.

Gods were such wickedly comical beings. They created a sun that kept them warm yet hot enough to burn them. They filled the basins between lands with mighty seas and oceans but salted them so the waves could never quench a man’s thirst.
 

Each movement of Iron’s limbs tested his strength, and when he managed it, he imagined swimming through tree sap an easier task. His head pounded, and every swallow was like drinking sand.
 

After the first few days, conversation ran short. Today—however many days later this was—their thirst drowned what little conversation they had beneath a tide of silence. And so Iron and his shipmates floated in their pitiful skiff, silence thick and chill as frozen butter despite the raging heat.

Iron glanced at Sander. The man’s eyes had retreated into his skull, and his skin sunk over his sharp cheeks before disappearing in a wash of salty beard where his chin hid. It took his master a few moments to register Iron’s gaze. Once he did, he grinned. His lip split and bled.

Cursed gods, send us wind!
Iron sighed and flopped his head back against the boat, which he’d affectionately named the
Sapphire Shithole
. He stared at the blazing sun, not caring to blink as it threw burning light upon his brow. Eventually, the sun won, and Iron closed his eyes.

A minute could have passed, or it might have been an hour. Iron didn’t know. He didn’t care. He just wanted water.
 

Soft, cool wind sighed into the boat and chilled the sweat on his burned forehead. The chill kiss brought a smile. He opened his eyes and blinked at the bird perched on the boom above him.
 

It wasn’t a large bird. He could probably hold it comfortably in one hand. Like Caspran’s swifts, feathers white as snow covered its chest and wings. But this bird, unlike the swifts, had a small, sharp beak black as obsidian. Round eyes the same pitch black considered Iron with something deeper than an animal’s innocent curiosity.

Those eyes are intense. I’ve seen eyes like them. Where have I seen them before?

Those eyes tugged him gently from his stupor. Those eyes. He knew those eyes. In the doe, in the fish, and now, in the bird.

He reached for the bird, but it took flight, darting into a line of clouds black in their belly and muted grey on their backs. The rolling storm arched toward their ship like a wave crashing on a beach.

Wind whooshed in a deep yawn, and the sail flapped angrily in reply. The
Shithole
tilted up, the prow pointing at the storm before flying down a wave.

“Seems the wind’s lost its gentle touch,” Sander said, rubbing his temples.
 

Iron wiped the dead skin from his lips. “It scared the bird off.”

Another gale collided against the sail. The sea rolled the vessel up another wave, then sent them crashing down. Kalila moaned and wrapped her thick arms around the mast, pressing her forehead against the wood pillar.

“Wait. A bird?” Sander frowned at his words. “This far out at sea?”

Ayska shook her daze away, and her distant eyes gained an excited sparkle. “You saw a bird? Iron, did you really see a bird? I’d almost kiss you if you did.”

“Oh, I definitely saw a bird. It landed on the boom.” He flashed a toothy grin and pointed to his cheek. “Kiss?”

Ayska ignored him, instead bending to her sister. “Land, Kalila!”

Sander laughed and slapped his hip. “By the gods, we’ve made it to Rosvoi! You still want that kiss, boy? I’m in the mood to give one.”

“No.”

“Well, fine. See if I ask again.”

Iron rolled his eyes.

“Finally,” Ayska said. “And despite the help of any of your damned gods.”

The ship rocked violently. Ayska wobbled to her feet, grabbing a rope for support. Sander nearly toppled overboard but hooked his foot beneath his seat and saved himself at the last second. Iron sunk into the hull and grabbed either side of the skiff.
 

His master’s knuckles whitened on the lip of his seat. “Storm’s coming over the islands. Seas might get rough before we make the beach.”
 

Ayska’s braids flapped wildly behind her as the wind coursed over her shoulders. “The seas are about to get very rough. Best keep a tight hold on the ship.”
 

Sander peered toward the storm and cursed. “You can barely see a thing through that beast!”

Iron scrambled to his master’s side and kneeled toward the prow. He glared into the storm and took a mouthful of wind. Bulbous clouds belched a rumble over the water. Serpentine backs of mighty waves wore caps of briny foam. A lancet of jagged lightning struck the largest of a chain of islands peeking from the torrent loosed from a churning sky.
 

Despite the maelstrom, Iron smiled at the sight of land. Brilliant green textured high peaks soaring over the sea. Those mountains sheared the storm like a titan’s teeth in a soft belly. Long, thin lines of sand hinted at a beach preventing a jungle from spilling into the waves.
 

Such green, he’d never seen such green. The gardens of Spineshell were a manicured beauty. This wild wave of life blanketing the islands promised a world unlike anything Iron ever studied. Hells, if Rosvoi was truly as isolated as they believed, he might actually be one of the first to explore it. The storm suddenly seemed less frightening now that his excitement beat his fear into the back of his mind.

The tempest hurled a gust at the ship. The storm wall clasped the sun and choked them with shade. A single drop struck Iron’s cheek and rolled onto his lips. He licked it greedily, his heartbeat coming to a rapid rhythm.

“The islands are beautiful, Sander! How could anything be so green?”

They crested a wave and angled downward. Sander grabbed his collar and threw him to the bottom of the ship. “You’ll be wondering how the sea could be so blue while you’re drowning in it if you don’t brace yourself!”

The boat tipped, racing down the wave’s back. They slammed into the sea in a spray of saltwater that blinded him.

Ayska grabbed his hand and forced it onto the hull’s lip. “Sander’s right,” she shouted through the screaming winds. “The sea’s turning on us. Keep hold and don’t let go, no matter what.” She whipped around to Kalila, smiling and cooing sweet words Iron couldn’t catch through the din.

Their ship once again veered skyward, but this time the wave’s crest towered over them. They sailed to the peak, and a tranquil moment passed, suspended there on a mountain made by the sea. The boat tipped down and raced like a boulder down an icy mountain. The Sapphire Sea smashed into the skiff and soaked Iron through.

Water poured in rivers from his hair into his eyes. He wiped it from his brow and ignored the sting of the sea. Lightning flashed and thunder clapped, bringing with it a torrent that pelted him with angry raindrops.

“I hate sailing!” Sander roared. His master’s form was a grey blur in the rainy sheets thundering from the sky. Iron thought he made out the man twist around. “Are you strong enough to swim?”
 

The wooden lip bit into Iron’s trembling hand. “But we’re here! We’ll make it!”

A shadow slipped over the skiff. Iron’s eyes widened as his gaze rose from Sander to the titan wave rolling toward them.
 

“Oh gods,” Iron gasped.

At first they climbed the wave. Their ship stalled near its peak, but somehow, the current snagged it and yanked it to the summit despite gravity begging them down. They reached the crest, and Iron wondered if he reached up he might touch a cloud.

“Iron!” Ayska roared.
 

He yanked his bewildered stare to her. She had Kalila in a white-knuckled grip. She looked to him, her braids sopping ropes framing her pale face. “Swim, Iron. I need you to swim.”

Her chest swelled with her deep breath. Kalila sucked in a breath of her own and pinched her nose. Gravity grasped the prow, and hurled them down the wave’s back.

A smash rocked his world. Splintering wood. Water everywhere. In his throat, his eyes. The storm grew distant, muffled as he spun beneath the sea. Slippery bubbles slithered up his cheeks as air forced itself from his lungs. He reached out, swimming blindly, wildly, through a tempest of water and thunder.
 

Ayska needs me.
 

Iron cupped his hands and pulled his body through the sea.
 

You will not take me.

He pulled and he pulled again. His lungs roared in protest as he gasped and swallowed seawater instead of air.

Ayska. Ayska!

His fist broke the surface and clasped empty air. His open mouth tore through the sea next, and with it, so did his scream. Iron fought one wave after another, a single soldier battling legions of unthinking giants. He screamed Ayska’s name, but no answers came.