Scimitar Sun (51 page)

“An’ so,” Chula concluded, “if dere ain’t a soul here who has some reason, and de plums to say it in public, why dese two shouldn’t be wed, I’ll be pronouncin’ you man an’ — ”

Something large splashed right behind the nearly wedded couple, and they whirled.

“It’s a mer! Look!” someone on the pier shouted, pointing at a tail that lashed the water’s surface.

“Bloody hells!” Feldrin swore, reaching for the dress cutlass at his hip.

He didn’t have time to draw the weapon.

In the blink of an eye, the air over Scimitar Bay solidified into burgeoning clouds — whirling, dark, angry billows that rumbled with thunder. Wind crashed from the mountain top over their shoulders and across the water, kicking up whitecaps. And the water answered, rising up in a flash to Cynthia’s hand and lashing out in a maelstrom, snapping up the mer who had dared to interrupt this one moment of solace.

There was only one mer, and it was now held harmless in her column of spinning water. Cynthia turned back to the stunned Chula. “Finish it!”

“I, uh, yes.” Chula straightened his jacket, sheathed his cutlass and calmed the frightened crowd with a gesture. “If any man, woman…or creature of da sea is foolish enough to bring up any stupid reason why Cynthia and Feldrin shouldn’t be man and wife, say so, and may Odea have mercy on ya.”

Silence reigned, save for the tumult of rushing water and the rumble of thunder overhead.

“Den, as captain of dis here ship, I pronounce ya man and wife! Now kiss de woman and let’s gaff dis bloody fish!”

Feldrin turned to her and drew her into his broad arms, planting a kiss on her lips that cleared the skies and calmed the winds. The tornado of water that held the single mer imprisoned wobbled a bit, but did not collapse. When he released her, they exchanged a long look, then turned to their unwelcome guest.

The waters of the bay calmed, and the spinning maelstrom slowed and shrank until the disoriented mer within it was held in a still pillar of glistening seawater directly off the transom of the ship.

“Chaser!” Cynthia said, making a series of signs with her hands, shoulders, head and legs. *Why do you intrude here, Chaser? After what was done to me, no mer is welcome here!*

*The mer did not take your child, Seamage Flaxal,* he signed slowly, regaining his wits. *Eelback was acting outside The Voice when he did this.*

“What’s he bloody sayin’?” Feldrin snapped, his hand resting menacingly on the pommel of the sword at his hip.

“He says that the mer did not take my baby, but…” Cynthia wrinkled her brow and signed, *You signed ‘took,’ not ‘killed’, Chaser, and you called me Seamage Flaxal, not Seamage Flaxal’s Heir. Explain this!*

*Your son lives, Seamage Flaxal,* he signed with a gesture of submission.

Cynthia staggered, and the column of water wavered and nearly collapsed. Only Feldrin’s strong arm kept her from falling to the deck.

“What, love? Wha’d he say?” Feldrin glared at the mer as Chaser cringed.

“He says our baby, our
son
, is alive!”

“Son?” Feldrin said amid the murmurs and exclamations of the amassed crowd. “Our
son
?”

“Yes, he…I’m sorry, but let me get to the bottom of this.” He nodded to her and she turned back to Chaser, her features grim. *If you sign falsely, Chaser, I will crush your home grotto to sand.*

*I do not sign falsely, Seamage Flaxal! Eelback took The Heir to Akrotia. He seeks to use your bloodline to bring it back to life!*

*Akrotia? What is that? Your sign means nothing to me.*

*Akrotia was a city, Seamage Flaxal. A great living city of mer and landwalkers, built and inhabited by both for many thousands of seasons, long ago. But the city died! The landwalker who had given himself to Akrotia became ill, and when he died, Akrotia died with him. None came forth to take his place, and the mer said this was treason. No mer could take his place; no mer has the gift, your gift.*

*Gift? You mean no mer can become a seamage?* Chaser gestured the affirmative and hung there, waiting. *And they want to use my child, my
son
, for this?*

*Yes, Seamage Flaxal. It is the only reason that makes sense.*

*But I saw Kelpie and Tailwalker with them! Did they also seek to resurrect this city using my son?*

*I do not know Kelpie’s mind on this, Seamage Flaxal, but Tailwalker was taken against his will. They have your son; he is alive, and they go to Akrotia.* He made a gesture of helplessness. *The rest is supposition.*

*Supposition?* she signed, her anger returning. *You don’t
know
? How do you know my son lives?*

*Our allies, the deep dwellers, helped me track the Seamage Flaxal’s Heir,* he signed, posturing submission again. *Trident Holder Broadtail consulted with them, asked their help. The dolphins and I followed his scent with their aid. They go to where Akrotia lies, where no mer goes, where no landwalker goes. There can be only one reason to take The Heir to Akrotia, Seamage Flaxal.*

She stared at him for a moment, her mind whirling with questions which she knew he could not, or would not answer. There was one question, however, that she could ask: *Why do you sign this to me, Chaser? Why would the mer tell me this?*

*The mer know your anger, Seamage Flaxal,* he signed, his colors shifting submissively. *If you blamed all mer for the loss of son, you would destroy us.*

Cynthia smiled with sudden realization; this sounded more like mer logic, mer reasoning. *So you told me it was not your fault to save your lives. Is that right?*

*Yes, that is right, Seamage Flaxal. We submit to you. We do not want you to hate us.*

*And what of your attack on the landwalker ships, Chaser. Should I not blame you for that as well?*

*That was the will of The Voice, Seamage Flaxal; we could not disobey it!* He swished his tail in discomfort, and signed, *Though it seems now that Eelback’s persuasion of the mer was to manipulate the decision of The Voice for his own ends. He wanted the attack to happen as you returned from the burning island, to lure you into acting against us, against The Voice. In his mind, this justified his attack on you, though not the taking of your heir.*

Cynthia staggered a step back, glaring at Chaser in shock. “They manipulated me,” she said, turning to Feldrin. “One of the mer manipulated all the others into deciding to attack the warships, to provoke me. It was all just a ploy! All he wanted was our son, Feldrin!”

“But why?” the Morrgrey asked, still glaring at the mer. “Why take our son?”

“They, not all of them, but some of them, want to use our son to bring some kind of a dead city back to life. I’m not sure what he’s talking about, something built by the mer and land — er, I mean humans, a long time ago.”

“Bring a
city
back to life? What the bloody…”

“Not humans,” another voice interrupted. Both of them turned, and Cynthia was astonished to see Ghelfan step from the crowd and nod. “Elves built the city with the mer, Cynthia. The legend of Akrotia is rarely spoken of by my elvish ancestors. It happened eons ago, before humans even came to this land. The city was built by magic, enchanted to become a living thing, at the cost of a life. At the cost of the life of a seamage.”

“And now this mer intends to use our son to bring the thing back to life?” Feldrin glared, his features darkening with his anger. “I don’t believe it! Why him? Why us?”

“Odea’s gifts are not bestowed upon the mer,” Ghelfan explained. He looked slightly uncomfortable. “The agreements between the mer and the elves became strained as the population of Akrotia grew. The mer insisted that the city be expanded to accommodate even more of them, and the elves refused. The city became overcrowded with mer and they became unreasonable, aggressive, violent. Disease burned through their population, killing thousands, and the seamage who was bound to Akrotia became ill. When he died, Akrotia died. The elves would not sacrifice another to prolong agreements that they deemed unwise to begin with, and abandoned Akrotia. The mer have never forgiven us for this.”

“But it hasn’t happened yet,” Feldrin said, his hand flexing on the hilt of his sword. “They haven’t done this…thing yet.”

“I don’t know, Feldrin.” She turned to Chaser. *When will Eelback sacrifice my son to make this happen, Chaser?*

*I do not know when, Seamage Flaxal. The scrolls speak of proper conditions for this to happen, but since none has ever considered the possibility of it, the scrolls with the knowledge have gone unread for a long time.*

*Bring the scrolls to me! At once!* she ordered, a flicker of hope kindling in her soul.

*I cannot, Seamage Flaxal. Eelback has the scrolls.*

“Bloody mer logic!” Cynthia swore, then turned to Feldrin. “They don’t know when it will happen, and the scrolls with the information are with the ones who stole our son.”

“I could ask the elves,” Ghelfan suggested, “but that would take time. They will not volunteer the information readily.”

“We can’t wait,” Cynthia said. “We have to try to get him back, Feldrin. We have to go as soon as we can!”

“Bloody right, we do!” He turned to Horace. “I want the
Pride
ready to sail in twenty-four hours! Load her with as many provisions as she’ll carry! Rig for action, and take any volunteers who’ll go.”

Cynthia turned to Chula. “Ready
Peggy’s Dream
as well.” At his salute she turned to Camilla and Count Norris. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay here until we return. My son…”

“We will remain here, of course,” the count said, his eyes flicking to Camilla, then to Tim. “If the emperor sends another ship, we will treat with them.”

“Do what you have to do, Cynthia,” Camilla said, taking her hands and squeezing them. “We’ll be fine. Go.”

“Thank you, Cammy.” She embraced her friend, then turned to Ghelfan. “I can’t compel you to help me in this, my friend, but if you
would come, I’d welcome your knowledge of Akrotia.”

“I will come, Mistress Cynthia,” he said with a bow, turning to lay a hand on Dura’s shoulder. “Dura can take care of things here in my absence.”

“Very good. Thank you,” she said, turning to address the entire crowd. “Thank you all! The schooners will leave tomorrow if all is
ready. Let’s make it that way!”

The crowd cheered and dispersed, shouting for supplies and weapons.

Cynthia turned to Chaser, and signed, *The mer will help me find my son.* It was not a question, not a plea, but not quite a command, either. *Where is Akrotia?*

*Broadtail will send mer to help you, to guide you and to fight if necessary,* he replied. *Akrotia lies far away to the south and west of the trench south of the isles.*

*The Sea of Lost Ships,* she signed, referring to the vast, windless gyre of floating weed that dominated the center of the Southern Ocean. *We will leave on tomorrow’s tide, Chaser. Have the mer who will guide us come here, but I think only a few will be necessary.* She gestured to the amassed natives busily loading supplies onto both schooners. *We have plenty to fight, though I can’t imagine Eelback has many to oppose us.*

*He may have allies,* Chaser signed, his posture indicating caution.
*Our deep-dwelling allies say he has many friends among the other races.*

*Very well.* She wondered what Eelback had promised to gain such friends. *Send the mer here in the morning. We will be ready.* At his sign of assent she released him, allowing the water to spill back into Scimitar Bay. She stared after him as he swam away, starting at a light touch on her arm.

“Oh, Cammy! Sorry, my mind is a little muddled.”

“Understandable, all things considered,” her friend said, her countenance restrained. “But there’s one more thing you need to consider before you go.”

“Only one?” Her bark of laughter sounded strained even to her own ears. She was straining hard just to hold herself together; what else could go wrong? “What is it?”

“What about Edan?” Camilla said, some of the old fear in her voice.

“I’ll talk to Edan,” Cynthia said, her resolve strengthening. “I’ve got a use for
him
.”

Epilogue

Freeing the Demons

Cynthia and Feldrin edged their way through the bustle of activity into the hold of
Orin’s Pride
, past the provisions, weapons, sailcloth and sweating sailors to the small nook that had been set aside for their unwilling guest. As far as Cynthia was concerned, having seen the inside of Bloodwind’s dungeon, the accommodations could barely be considered a hardship. They’d rigged a cot and brought his belongings from Horace’s cabin, and even rigged a place to hang Flicker’s cage. The only indications that Edan was a prisoner were the iron bands around his ankles, linked by a chain through an eyebolt set in one of the ship’s frames.

That and the glare from the young man’s eyes as they approached.

“Hello, Edan,” Cynthia said, trying to keep her tone easy, though there was not going to be anything easy about this.

“I’d like to know why I’m chained down here,” he said, his eyes flicking back and forth between them. “I didn’t do anything wrong. That ship fired on us. If I hadn’t put fire on them, they’d have killed us all! The bo’sun was already dead, and Captain Brelak was bleeding to death! I would have thought you’d thank me for — ” His eyes widened suddenly. “You had your baby?”

“No, Edan, I didn’t.” Cynthia’s tone was no longer easy, and her eyes were hard as flint. “The mer took my baby, but we’ll get to that in a moment.”

“The mer…” The shock on his face would have warranted laughter had the situation been less dire.

“As to the reason you’re chained down here, Horace thought it best, and I agree with his judgment. You killed over a thousand men, Edan, and destroyed the emperor’s flagship. And you laughed about it. Don’t you think that is reason enough to restrain you?”

“No,” he said, his mien transforming from shock to confusion. “They were going to kill us! I just prevented it, the only way I could.”