“It’s all right, baby.” The nurse’s voice was a soft murmur as she wiped her eyes, her mouth. “It’ll pass. It always does.”
It ate him! she wanted to scream. It ate my father! But she choked on the words, couldn’t make them come out. All about her the room was growing cold with his absence, and the fabric of her dress . . . it cried out in mourning, because he had touched it, he had picked it out, and now he was gone . . .
“Jen?”
It was only a question of time before the creature became aware of the truth, that she knew. And when it did it would kill her—or worse. She would have to get far, far away from here before that happened. Far away, and-
Outside?
Outside was the real world. Outside was the untamed fae. Outside were the minions of a vengeful god, whose Church had doomed her to a half-life inside this windowless apartment. No one would take her in. No one would help her. Outside meant going it alone, now and forever. She thought of what that meant, how terrible and dangerous it would be . . . and then, in her mind’s eye, she saw that scrap of cloth again. The dripping blood. The hate-filled eyes. And she knew she could never pretend again. Not so that it would believe her.
“There,” the nurse whispered. “Don’t worry. You’re safe here. You’ll always be safe at home.”
Never, she thought, as the hot tears flowed down her face. Never safe, never home, not ever again . . .
6
They followed the Regent’s ship to the south. The wind favored them all the way, and Damien couldn’t help but wonder if that was Tarrant’s doing. Wishful thinking. How comfortable it would be to imagine that the Hunter was expending his time and energy controlling the weather, instead of . . . other things.
Meanwhile there was nothing to do but keep to their course and speculate upon the place they were soon to visit. The merchants had been reassured to see signs of wealth on Toshida and his people—most of them had invested in luxury items, assuming that an eight-hundred-year-old colony would probably have all its necessities accounted for—and Mels was downright ecstatic about the Regent’s response to his horses. An air of optimism prevailed overall, and if Damien and Hesseth now and then wondered how a land with all those good qualities could have spawned the kind of evil they’d fought in the rakhlands, they were the only ones who seemed to be worried. Optimism flourished in the cool, obliging winds, and the fear which had consumed them all seemed ready to disperse in the white southern sunshine.
Some thirty miles south of where they had first encountered Toshida they were joined by four other ships, smaller and less heavily armed than the Regent’s, but still imposing to a westerner’s eye. Without need for additional command from their leader’s ship they flanked the Glory two to a side, herding her first toward the south, then to the east. An honor guard, the merchants insisted. Though Damien and the captain were less than certain about that, they realized that nothing would be gained by arguing the point now. Let the passengers indulge in blind optimism if it kept them quiet, the captain advised. There’d be time enough later to adjust their perspective if and when things went sour.
Thus far they had traveled out of sight of land, paralleling the rugged coastline. That said much for how dangerous the local tsunami were, for a seasoned captain would often risk a day or two of shallow seas to have familiar landmarks. Little wonder the coastline was only sparsely inhabited, Damien thought. He watched as Rasya fumed in impotence, unable to mark down a single landmark for future reference. She cursed Toshida while she worked. It wasn’t just a question of making them helpless, she explained, by preventing her from compiling a detailed map that would help them navigate this course on their own; the changes which time and the rising seas had wrought upon this ragged coast would have given them priceless information about what to expect elsewhere on this continent. It was a legitimate concern, no doubt about it—but Damien sensed that what bothered her most was the fact that Toshida’s pilots had detailed maps of this coastline and she did not. He had seen the members of her profession interact often enough to realize that beneath all their courtesy and cooperation was a streak of fierce competitiveness, and Rasya was no exception.
Then land came into sight at last. Two peaks, to the north and south of them. The gates of the inland sea, Rasya declared, and she showed them the place on the map where a narrow gap in the coastline mountain range permitted access to a body of water some six hundred miles long and fifty to one hundred across. A shallow, salty sea, she told them, and one that was bound to be even larger now that the waters of Erna had risen. They had guessed long ago that whatever civilization had developed in this region would be focused along the shores of such a sea. It seemed now that they’d been right.
It was with growing excitement that they gathered along the sides of the ship to watch the cliffs pass by. The sheer granite walls barely gave them room to pass, and mounds of rock that had been poured into the straits by centuries of earthquakes made their passage even more treacherous. The ships which were flanking them strung out single file, two behind them and two before, and they snaked through a maze of islets and breakwaters in the wake of Toshida’s vessel. Rasya took notes furiously as she guided the ship through, and Damien noted darkly that if her hasty sketches failed her then the Golden Glory would be trapped here until the locals saw fit to help them leave. It was clear that the better part of these waters was not passable. And above them . . . he directed his gaze to the peaks which flanked them, and found them as heavily fortified as Toshida’s ship had been. Fortresses built from granite slabs crowned the two mounts at their most stable points, and an impressive array of cannons was trained on the narrow waters between them. Which told Damien several things, not one of them reassuring. These people had a seaborne enemy. They expected attack at any time. And this deadly pass was the most likely point of access for anyone—trader, invader, or traveler—to the rich lands beyond.
They sent Toshida’s ship out to us because if we’d reached this point on our own they would have had to blow us out of the water. No questions asked. No eulogies offered. The etiquette of war, ruthless and unapologizing.
Good for them, he thought grimly. Because if it turned out that their enemy was the same as his, there was no better way to deal with the bastards.
Night. The Core reflected brightly in the sea’s mirrored surface, turning the water to gold beneath their bow. He leaned against the starboard rail, watching it, and then sighed. Time to go to bed. Time to try to sleep. There, was no telling when they’d turn to land, and the sea was what, six hundred miles long? It was clear Toshida wasn’t going to allow them to see the coast until they were ready to come into port, so he might as well relax. Or try to. Right?
He turned, only to find that Hesseth had come up behind him. Her head was still tightly wrapped, as it had been when Toshida and his people came on board. Best not to take chances when in view of strangers. The long robes she had affected since that meeting brushed against the deck as she leaned on the railing beside him.
“I’d never seen the sea, before I went to walk among the humans.” Her voice was soft, a thing of breezes and secrets her sibilant accent rounded out the sharp edges of her English, producing a sound that was doubly soft, strangely beautiful. “I still associate it with your species. These immense bodies of water, as vast as the land . . . not a human thing at all, but they seem that way to me.”