Firehurler (Twinborn Trilogy) (74 page)

Brannis saw nothing but an opaque sphere around where
Captain Zayne’s counterpart had just been. He heard indistinguishable
mutterings from within, and for the first time in his life, Brannis
felt
the flow of the aether, this time as it was drawn inward toward that same
sphere. Juliana stirred beneath him in obvious distress. Brannis worried that
whatever was happening was about to kill her as well.

Then it ended. Jinzan was gone, as was a curved scoop
of stone from the mine floor. In its place was gently turned soil and a few
flowers.

Chapter 35 - That Awkward Morning After

I am still here
,
Kyrus mused, blinking up at the wooden beams of the ceiling above him.

He lay on his back in his bunk aboard the
Free
Trader
, feeling the roll of the ship beneath him. He ached everywhere, and
his left arm felt the break that Brannis’s had in it, though he could tell that
his own was intact. He looked over to the door and, in his aether-vision, found
it to be intact with its wards undisturbed.

Kyrus sat up and looked around in the aether to see
what befell aboard the ship. He saw sailors bustling all about, no different
than any other day he had seen since taking to the seas himself. If there was
unease about the ship’s wizard, they were betraying no sign of it. The deck was
being cleaned, there were men in the rigging, and the galley was manned with
cook and hungry sailor alike.

Kyrus could not see the whole of the ship from his
quarters, so he could not check on the whereabouts of Captain Zayne, and he was
fairly certain he did not want to go looking for him, either.

What would I even say?

There were twelve men in his immediate company who had
died at Captain Zayne’s hands, and Juliana had narrowly avoided being another
of his victims.

“I will spare your life here, and you will spare me
there,” Jinzan had said.

Was it even binding? Brannis had agreed to nothing,
and Kyrus certainly had not been there. Where was the line between Kyrus and
Brannis, between Captain Zayne and Jinzan?

Kyrus had much to think about before he opened that
warded door and left the cozy safety of his cabin. If Captain Zayne bore him
ill will from their encounter in Veydrus, Kyrus knew he had best leave prepared
to do battle.

No, that is ludicrous. I must remember that here,
I
am the sorcerer. Jinzan may know a thousand
tricks of aether for all I care, and Captain Zayne can manage none of that. He
would be a fool to try anything to harm me.

Kyrus examined the ward tattooed into the flesh of his
shoulder. It glowed reassuringly in his aether-vision, its protections solid
and unyielding. Of the warnings of dire peril that Captain Zayne had predicted,
Kyrus still noticed nothing. If aether were being drawn into the ward directly
from his Source, he was none the worse for it.

Maybe my Source is just a bit stronger than Jinzan’s,
and better able to shrug off the additional burden. Captain Zayne has always seemed
impressed with my Source and how powerful it supposedly is.

Kyrus had tried looking in the mirror, but mirrors
only reflected the light, not aether. It was awkward trying to view his own
Source, some quirk of how Source and aether-vision interacted that prevented
him getting a good look at his own. The best he could do was infer. There
seemed in general to be more aether about his person than he saw near others,
and when it came time to draw it, it came readily and speedily to his call. All
other aspects of his Source, any that needed direct observation, were obscured
to him. Was he so different from Jinzan, who rivaled the Inner Circle members
in power?

Brannis had heard tell of Iridan’s battle with Captain
Zayne’s alter ego, having both reports and firsthand accounts of how the battle
went on all fronts before taking his slumber. Though tired and worn down,
Iridan had drawn against Jinzan and lost, saved only by the quick-thinking
illusionist, Faolen.

Would that it had been Rashan who crossed Jinzan’s
path, and not just Iridan. I could suffer Captain Zayne’s presence in good
conscience if I did not have to worry that he worked against my homeland and
friends in another world.

In theory, Kyrus knew that dispatching the captain of
the
Free Trader
would have been a simple matter. Neither pistol, not
blade, nor the presence of four-score loyal sailors could stop Kyrus—and the
loyalty of so new a crew was a paltry thing when asked to stand in the way of a
sorcerer with murderous intent. But that was the rub: murder. Kyrus had been
wronged in no way by Denrik Zayne—indeed, he had been helped at many turns by
the captain and his associates. Brannis had even been explicitly spared by
Jinzan, who by all rights ought to have obliterated them all before using a transference
spell to flee the mines.

Kyrus’s stomach growled, reminding him that no matter
the moral dilemma, he could not remain in his cabin indefinitely. Outside on
deck, the men sang a song that reminded him of the ones Juliana had them
singing on the way to Raynesdark. Kyrus would much rather have been there in
the wreckage of Raynesdark than isolated and alone on a Megrenn sorcerer’s
ship.

*
* * * * * * *

“Ha-ha, so I was right to think he was lying to us.”
Stalyart grinned. The first mate sat straddling one of the chairs in the
captain’s cabin, his crossed arms resting on the back of it. “So everything
else went according to your plan?”

“Largely, yes. I did not stay to witness the battle’s
end, but there was a dragon and a warlock back from the dead there, and I did
not wish to risk the staff’s safety around either of them. Once I got it, I got
myself out by magic and back to Megrenn lands. I sleep right now in my very own
bed for the first time in months. In the morning, it will be a hero’s reception
for me again,” Denrik said, letting out a satisfied sigh. Denrik Zayne was a
hard, solitary man, but Jinzan at least had known love in his life.

“So what is our little sorcerer like in the other
world, hmm? I admit, I had guessed him to be a useless noble son, seventh in
line to some worthless scrap of Kadrin with a fencing tutor who had taught him
to use a blade. Bookish, timid, much like our Kyrus, that was my guess. Oh, but
how wrong, hey?” Stalyart joked. He had little stake in the war between Kadrin
and Megrenn, certainly nothing beyond just the financial gain to be had in
supplying foreign-bred mounts and iron ore for their military efforts.

“He tried to bargain with me, offered to take me alive
and guaranteed my safety if I gave myself up. Typical Kadrin ploy. I bet they
would have had my throat before dawn. No, I read my history. No fop shall be
made of me in the stories written about the fall of Kadrin. I bartered my life
here for his twin’s life there. I slew the rest of his companions, save for one
slip of a sorceress that he shielded with his body. I took a moment’s panic,
thinking I had killed him accidentally, but his armor was warded strongly and
turned aside my attack. I know not what Kyrus would have done if I had slain
his twin, and once I realized he would sacrifice himself to save the girl, I
spared her as well. That boy has violence within him, even if it is not at the
surface. I still worry that he might not hold to his end.”

“What would we do if he did not?” Stalyart asked,
shrugging. “You saw the smoke from the fires in Marker’s Point. Eleven men, he
said. Would it make a difference if it had been a hundred? We have no sorcerer
here to balance against him. My advice to you is better now than before:
befriend him. You know his secret now. Let the tide wash the footprints from
the sand. Make new ones. Are you Jinzan? Is he the Kadrin knight you saw? Let
him search the ship all he likes; the Staff of Gehlen is not here. He can
choose a life of drinking and whoring and plundering, or he can slink off to
the hills of some desolate backwater to make his home away from those who would
shun him as a witch.”

“And what if he decides he can make himself a king?”
Denrik countered. “Surely people will fear and shun him, but let him slay an
army and they will kneel to him. I doubted the boy had it in him, but I bet you
that knight does. That means Kyrus is capable as well, there is no mistaking.
The lessons of the one world carry into the other.
You
explained that
one to me. The ‘Rule of the Twinborn,’ you called it.”

“Then do not let him think of the possibility. Make a
grand gesture of your acceptance of him. Make him truly your friend. Then maybe
he does not think of running and conquering. Oh, and I understand too, if he
decides he is a lion among kittens, we are dead men the day he chooses to leave
us. We would be just an angry tantrum as he carves an empire of his own—men who
knew too much.”

“I will have to think on it,” Denrik muttered, half to
himself. Stalyart took that as a sign he ought to be going and stood up. “One
last thing, Stalyart. Has Kyrus left his cabin yet today?”

“I shall check, but I had not seen him yet this morn,”
Stalyart replied.

What
can
I do?
Denrik wondered as soon as the door shut behind his friend and first
mate.

The door provided no answer as he stared at it. He was
suddenly wary of that door. Somewhere on the other side was a man who might
well feel wronged by him, or at least stood as a mortal enemy—kingdom to
empire—not far away.

Will today be my end, not at the gibbet, but at the
hands of an angry Kadrin sorcerer? Will he weigh the life I spared in the mines
of Raynesdark against my own life here? If it were me, I would honor the
bargain, even though I had not agreed to it. A man’s life is not his own to
barter at times like that. I had his life in my hands and gave it back to him.
Does a Kadrin even have enough honor to understand that debt?

Denrik felt the comforting shape of the pistol in his
belt and ran a hand along it.

Fool or not, that ward makes this pistol a condemned
man’s last resort. Source like his, he is unlikely to let that ward of his
falter, especially after what has transpired.

No amount of staring at the cabin door was going to
change his fate, but Denrik tried nonetheless.

*
* * * * * * *

Kyrus ate his morning meal in the mess, keeping to
himself. After the previous night’s display—which Kyrus had nearly forgotten
about after the war he had witnessed in his dreams—few were eager to share his
company. Even Jimony, who had tried to warm to Kyrus in order to be shielded
beneath his aura of power and influence with the captain, took his own meal at
another table. Kyrus poked his spoon a bit at a lackluster fish strew—how
anyone could undersalt saltwater fish was beyond him—but ate little.

He caught a glimpse of Stalyart, but there was no sign
that the captain was about.

Is he afraid of me?
Kyrus wondered.

The ship’s first mate had made no eye contact with
Kyrus, and that was unusual for the outgoing and boisterous southlander.

There was shouting up on deck, but Kyrus could not
make out what was going on. He could see Sources congregating outside the
captain’s quarters. Curiosity started picking off the others in the mess as
they went to see what was going on above. Kyrus sat at the table, mindlessly
staring into his stew until he was the last remaining.

“Everyone on deck. Captain’s orders,” came a shout
from above.

Kyrus could only imagine that his presence had been
missed. If it was to be a call for his head or a duel between him and the
captain, so be it. Kyrus steeled himself and pushed away his bowl.

As he started for the stairs, he checked his ward for
what must have been the twentieth time since he awoke. It was still fine, and
he added a bit of aether to it to be safe. Thinking on it, he also drew a bit
of aether to hold onto. Kyrus was getting used to retaining aether for
emergencies, out of habit, and was to the point where it barely burned to hold
it anymore. Even without any proper spells for battle, simple firehurling would
be enough to defend him against any of the ship’s inhabitants.

“All right, men,” Kyrus heard as he reached the top of
the stairs. Captain Zayne was holding court from the aft castle, addressing his
men like a king from a palace balcony. “Gather ’round. This is a joyous time.
Look at you all,” Denrik shouted, grinning. “A proper pirate crew if I ever saw
one. It had been too long since I had seen the likes of you. We will make our
mark upon the world. Men will fear us. The sound of the name
Fair Trader
will be spoken in reverent whispers among the seafaring merchants much as
Honest
Merchant
once was.

“But today, tonight, we will make for a gentler port.
Tonight we will feast in Denku Appa.”

A cheer rose up from a scattering of the men, those
worldly enough to have known or heard of the tiny island. Kyrus had seen it on
the ship’s maps but knew little of it. It was but one strange name among many,
a lone island far from most others, though close enough to Marker’s Point that
they were reaching it in just two days at sea.

“So I gather that some of you have heard of Denku
Appa, but not all,” Captain Zayne continued once the cheer died down.

Men were continuing to press closer about the deck
below where he held court, while Kyrus kept to the back of the assembly. There
was an energy about the captain that Kyrus had not seen before. He had realized
the charisma of the captain not long after their proper introduction, but he
seemed to have enthralled his men, though Kyrus saw no hint of tampering with
them in the aether.

“For those who have not, it is a paradise. The natives
who live there are friendly, and their hospitality is unmatched. We will drink
and feast and take the company of their women, and all for the price of a
little steel, which they cannot make themselves.”