The Firebrand Legacy (9 page)

“I will.” But Alviar didn’t move. “This is no
normal storm.”

Carine found tears in her eyes. Thank the
flames it was dark. Lightning flashed, but if Alviar saw her tears,
he did not blame her.

“Do you understand what I mean when I say
this is an emergency?”

Thunder.

“Where’s David?” Giles yelled suddenly in the
darkness, his voice frantic. For all the days that Carine had seen
Giles on the ship, she had never once heard his voice crack that
way. This frantic Giles was odd and heartbreaking.

“I’ve got him,” Alviar boomed over his
shoulder. “Arm yourself, young prince! Put on arms, and protect His
Highness!” He turned to Carine. “The bow is hidden in the crew
chamber, under my pillow. Go!”

“It’s enchanted,” she protested, but Alviar
was already leaving her. She splashed onto the deck as he let her
go.

“You know nothing,” he said, already quieting
as he went for David.

“I don’t get involved with magic! Send
someone else!”

But as the rain pounded the deck and the back
of her hands and water flooded the walkway, no one else was being
sent.

At the back of the crew’s chamber between the
last two bunks was a strange creation. The object was a divan, a
stand like a short kneeler with a plush top. Centaurs folded their
legs under themselves, then propped themselves up with the divan,
folded their arms over the top, and slept the night with their
heads on their arms.

The centaur’s pillow sat on the top of the
divan between both rows of bunks. Pillows and blankets had rolled
off the bed in the storm and were scattered across the floor.
Carine knelt at the stand, water over her knees and calves. Her
forearms rested against the pillow. Biting her lips, she lifted the
pillow.

There lay a small recurve bow with a blue
bowstring as thin as thread. David said that to pluck that string
was to call for help. Carine didn’t even want to touch it, let
alone pluck it.

Thunder roared outside.

Was there a chance—a wish—that Alviar was
right? Could there be both good and evil magic?

According to Alviar, and to David it seemed,
this bow was just as magical as the most ordinary bow. According to
them, everything in life came forth from one single enchantment.
Carine had always thought that to touch an enchanted object,
wishstone, or Manakor word would lead to death soon after.

But now, she’d die anyway.

The bow was light. It was strange, holding an
object in her hands that was dusted with enchantment that fell from
the dragon’s wings. She wished that whatever effect the bowstring
had, it would be quick. That the winds would still and the boat
survive. That David would heal and that the princes would feel
friendship for her as she did for them.

She plucked the bowstring as hard as she
could without breaking it. She held her breath. The thread left a
flat indent on her finger, but no sound emitted. The wind howled
outside and the water was still rising.

It hadn’t worked.

Carine let the string hang on her fingers as
she stood. She fought the water all the way to the door. Alviar had
to fix the bowstring. She opened the door. Rain and waves flooded
in.

A lightning flash illuminated a line of
silhouettes, notably those of a centaur and three princes
standing—David was standing!—at the edge of the ship, looking
over.

Darkness, thunder.

“David! Giles!” she yelled, but they didn’t
hear her.

She slogged through moving water, wishing
that her steps would bring her closer to them and that she wouldn’t
be swept out to sea. The bow hung in her hand.

Fresh water fell. Salt water sprayed.

Crack.

Lightning dazzled the mast. A bolt lit up
that pole like a candlestick. The wood split, broke, and fell,
crashing down on half the deck. Carine opened her eyes, unharmed,
but the ship was doomed.

“Carine?” The voice belonged to Giles.

“Are you okay?” It was David.

Carine waded over the deck until two hands
grabbed her arms. One belonged to each of the princes. At the next
flash of lighting, their faces lit up. David was hunched over but
managing to smile, as though he were trying to comfort her, even
now. Giles was serious, with the intent gaze of a teacher.

“Alviar!” Carine shouted beside them. He
turned. “The bow didn’t work!”

Alviar nodded and leapt into the sea.

Darkness. Carine shrieked.

Giles’ voice: “You plucked the string, didn’t
you? We are jumping overboard on the count of three.”

“What? There’s lightning.”

“Take her hand,” David said, his fingers
locking around her palm. Giles took her other hand. “Alviar knows
what he’s doing.”

Carine swallowed and agreed.

“So we need to act quickly,” said Giles.
“One… two…three!”

She and the boys jumped, suspended in the
howling wind. Before she knew it, Carine’s run turned into a fall.
The water rose around them as she crashed into the deep.

The Vualtic Ocean sucked them in.

Carine gasped. The ocean water gripped her
throat like a fist. Spray splattered her eyes as the waves tried to
swallow the rest of the boat. She forced her eyes open, but the
salt stung. Her hands thrashed about but didn’t keep her afloat.
Lightning struck again.

David and Giles treaded nearby. Their hands
had unclasped on impact, and now the ship towered over them,
threatening to topple over them.

“Where’s Alviar?” Carine yelled. She choked
on the water as the ship swung closer.

Giles’ eyes widened as the ship approached.
Above them, Prince Marcel and the crewmates abandoned ship one by
one.

Under the surface, something touched Carine’s
ankle. “What was that?”

Giles looked down, so mortified that his
voice squeaked. “You feel something?”

“It’s not sharks, Giles,” David said.

But before he could explain, the storm went
silent. Carine hadn’t the time to even take a final breath before
she was underwater. Panic rose in her lungs as she realized that no
fish had grazed her leg. Instead, fingers wrapped around her ankle.
She tried to open her eyes, but the sting of the salt was too
strong. The thing pulled her deeper. The water got cold as her ears
popped like corn.

She forced her eyes open. In a flash, all she
saw were orbs of glowing light: orange, green, and pink. In front
of the nearest light flicked the tail of a powerful fish.

Her head pounding, her heart felt suddenly
light in exuberance. These were merfolk, the same creatures that
drowned sailors and ransomed passing kings. The merfolk in the
south were the dangerous kind. They were the ones that lured
sailors off their ships with affectionate gazes and their songs.
The merfolk here were supposed to be more fishlike. Carine had
heard they were powerful but lacked any other details.

Carine almost forgot she was drowning.

Lips.

It was almost like a kiss. If it could count,
it would be Carine’s first. But
kiss
was a generous
description of the exchange. The merperson’s face pressed into
hers, but their lips did not lock the way she’d pictured a kiss to
be. Instead, the lips closed and opened against hers. Immediately,
her lungs’ desperation subsided.

Carine’s captor—rescuer?—moved his face away.
His hair was long on the crown of his head, so the strands acted
almost like a fin as they swayed in the water. He wore necklaces
and bangles galore, as merfolk were famous for doing, and his tail
was the brightest, richest, red-orange she had ever seen.

“Stay here,” the merman said.

His voice was clear, almost heavenly, not at
all the vocal quality she’d expect underwater. He swam back to the
surface for more men.

The stinging in Carine’s eyes had disappeared
completely. Even the dark sea looked brighter. Above them, the hull
of the ship seemed small. Her panic dissipated as her body felt its
needs being met.

Just as faunfolk could make flowers dance,
merfolk had a special power too. They could give the gift of
breathing underwater with a single kiss. Didda had told her stories
of when Granddad was a sailor. Once, Granddad’s captain had tried
to avoid paying the hefty stamp fee that the merfolk required on
each hull. Granddad hadn’t traveled a full day before a band of
merfolk enforcers threw grappling hooks over the ship and
threatened to sink it. The crew members surrendered; they each got
a kiss, but the gift only lasted twenty-four hours. Didda said that
that was the scariest day of Granddad’s life—next to his wedding
day. The crew was netted under the ship, knowing that they would
drown if the merfolk didn’t receive a suitable ransom in time.

Now, two merfolk escorted David and Giles to
the survivors. Their hair danced in the water, giving them an
eerie, regal way about them. Giles was wearing his indigo cape. It
floated serenely behind him as his eyes darted around the scene,
looking for clues or something. Carine swam closer, marveling.

“Did you hit your head?” David smirked,
alluding to her goofy smile. His voice too, had an echoing quality
that made it sound surreal.

Carine tried to scowl, but instead she gaped
at one of the underwater lanterns that cast all of them into a
bright neon glow. As she looked closer she found it to be a squishy
orb, and within it, a bright pink fish.

“How did they do this?” she asked herself,
watching the fish turn calmly within the spectacular orb. Her voice
rebounded fluidly.

From the surface, which silently raged
overhead, Alviar swam. His torso leaned downward as his horse legs
kicked. His white hair looked pink and orange in the light that the
merfolk brought. It splayed marvelously as he ebbed toward them.
Prince Marcel followed drowsily. His face was much less impressive
and charming up close.

“You must be Alviar.” The speaker had a
peaceful grin and eyes that shone like moons. The skin of the
merman’s face was brown like a ray, but his tail gradually ran
bright orange, like gold coins instead of scales. The merman
outstretched a bangle-covered forearm to Alviar.

Alviar cradled his hand and bowed. “Thabo, it
is an honor to meet you at last.”

“The joy is mine.” Thabo the merman smiled.
He stretched his arms wide, making him big in every direction, as
his hair, bound into ten tight ropes, framed his face. “You all are
welcome here.” Carine, the princes, and the crew members were
gathered around. Thabo’s smile faded as he met the eyes of the
princes. “But I presume you will not stay.”

“I am His Majesty Prince Giles of Navafort.”
Giles raised his chin, wondering perhaps why Thabo introduced
himself to Alviar instead of the princes, which was strange, since
even though they were underwater, Giles’ cape and David’s crest
clearly identified their status.

“I can see that,” Thabo answered. Something
glimmered on Thabo’s wrist. At first, Carine assumed it was one of
his bracelets. But it didn’t move. It was tattooed there: a written
word in the loops of the dragon language. On his wrist was that
same tongue inscribed on wishstones and burned into Esten walls by
Kavariel when he came.

“Thank you,” David added, trying to cut the
tension. “You saved our lives.”

Thabo smiled. “Extended them, perhaps. But
lives are pesky things aren’t they? They cannot be saved.”

Alviar pushed the water away with his hands
to float on Thabo’s same plane. “Did you notice the storm?”

“The five of us had already come to examine
it before you called.” Among the five were Thabo, Carine’s rescuer,
the twins’ rescuers, and one more. She realized now that they all
had a word written on their wrists. As happy as she was that the
bowstring worked after all, this new discovery made her uneasy. Who
were these people?

“That work takes great power,” Alviar
said.

“Indeed,” Thabo said. “Seeing as none of us
have such power, how can we assist you?”

“We must deliver His Highness Prince Marcel
to Ilmaria,” Alviar answered.

“Very well, I will make the
arrangements.”

“But I’m not going with them,” David said.
Thabo turned in surprise. “Sir, I shouldn’t have abandoned my
kingdom. I need to go back.” His eyes drifted to Alviar, but the
tutor, to Carine’s surprise, nodded his approval. The
mission—delivering Prince Marcel to Ilmaria—would not be threatened
now if David returned.

Since they were in the middle of the ocean,
Carine, the princes, and all who were talking formed a sphere of
conversation instead of the normal circle. Prince Giles’ arms
rotated to keep afloat above them.

“And what exactly do you hope to accomplish,
David? Grandfather sent you away. You have not passed your weapons
training, and you could never compete with the Heartless Ones.”

“I’ll figure something out,” David
retorted.

Prince Giles wasn’t convinced. “If you insist
on being stupid about it, then I’m coming with. Face it. You could
never defeat a Heartless One without my help.”

Limly swam up from where he had been sinking.
“Wait! Wait! Alviar may be tasked with Prince Marcel’s safety, but
I’m tasked with yours, Your Majesties. You cannot go back to that
place.”

“He’s right,” Carine said, realizing suddenly
that if the princes went back to Esten, she would be alone as she
waited for its safety. “You’ll be safe in Ilmaria.”

“Sorry, Carine, but we’re not changing our
minds. Alviar, you’ll make sure Carine is okay, won’t you?” David
said.

Alviar bowed consent.

“
Karin
,” Thabo said, gazing into
Carine’s eyes. “Your name means
the lonely
in Manakor. Did
you know that?” She didn’t nor did she like that meaning. “The
lonely…the question is, is that your origin or your fate?”