Into the Wind (27 page)

“He gave me the stone.” Taren’s expression was hard, unforgiving. He crossed his arms firmly over his chest and raised his chin in obvious defiance. The slight breeze from the open windows lifted a few errant hairs that had tumbled onto his face.

“Did you ever consider he might have had his reasons for giving it to you?” Ian asked, unable to contain himself. He wanted Taren to understand. “He doesn’t want to be tethered to it anymore. He gave it to you because it suited his purposes.”

“I don’t give a damn what his purposes were,” Taren nearly shouted. “Why should I care if he wished to be free of it? I promised Vurin I’d recover it.
We
promised Vurin we’d look for it. Together.”

Stop this. Tell him none of that matters. Tell him you love him.
“Taren, I—”

“You don’t trust that my heart is yours alone. You treat me like a child.” Taren shook with anger as he said this.

“Please, Taren, let me—”

“If I’m to be your slave,” Taren continued, “then say so, and I will submit to your will. But if you wish more than a dog to kneel at your feet, treat me like the man you say I am.”

Ian once again tried to speak, but Taren turned on his heel and stormed out of the cabin. A sharp gust of wind caught the door and slammed it hard against the frame, causing one of the books on a nearby shelf to fall.

Ian shook his head and paced the cabin several times before heading up on deck. He saw Taren’s graceful dive from the bowsprit, saw him transform as his hands met the water and disappear beneath the waves.
Taren.

He turned and headed aft, stalking down to where the men were working to replace some of the damaged lines. Renda looked up and held his gaze for a moment, then joined him near one of the rails. “You’re bound and determined to push him away, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“You know exactly what I just said,” Renda answered with a frown. “You’re so afraid of losing him that you’d push him away so you don’t have to suffer with your guilt.”

“My guilt?” What did Renda know about it?

“Your guilt.” Renda cocked his head to one side and his frown deepened. “The guilt you still feel after failing him on Ea’nu.”

“This isn’t about the prison,” Ian replied.

“Isn’t it?” Renda chuckled, and as he often did when he spoke his mind too plainly, Ian fought the urge to throttle him for it. “I don’t doubt you’re jealous of this mysterious pirate,” Renda added. “But you use that jealousy to push the boy away.” He glanced at the water where Taren had disappeared. “Seems you’re doing fine work of it too.”

Ian’s first instinct was to deny it, but he held his tongue and leaned on the rail. “Is it truly enough that he’s forgiven me?” He rubbed his jaw and gazed up at the foremast that still bore some of the scars of battle: a missing top castle and a cracked yard.

Renda shrugged. “He’s already moved on from that time. It’s you who still insists on reliving it. You see yourself in his stead and you remember the pain you carried with you for years after your imprisonment.” Renda laid a hand on Ian’s shoulder. “But he is
not
you, old friend.”

“I fear I’ll lose him.” Ian steeled himself against his fear as he said this. “Whether because he decides I’m unworthy of his affections, or the goddess wills it.”

“From what I know of him, I doubt he will ever find you unworthy.” When Ian tried to protest, Renda shook his head and chuckled as he said, “Goddess knows you’ve done what you could to push him away, and he’s stayed at your side.”

“He’s loyal to a fault.”

“Perhaps. But in spite of your sour demeanor”—Renda chuckled and squeezed Ian’s shoulder—“you are capable of inspiring loyalty. Worthy of it, though you may doubt your worth.”

Renda had avoided speaking of the goddess’s plan. Even if he was correct in his assessment of Taren’s heart, they both knew the goddess had separated him and Taren before.

“Perhaps your time with him is short,” Renda conceded as he turned back to watch the men continue their repairs. “All the more reason to stop your idiocy and show him your heart.”

“Do you have to put things in such a way that I must struggle not to toss you overboard?” Ian said. He would never do such a thing, but this had become a bit of a habit for them both, and Renda understood the affection behind his empty threat.

“Would you listen to me if I put it otherwise?” Renda countered with a smirk and a breezy wave of his hand.

Ian shook his head and headed back to his cabin. He’d spoken his piece. He’d give Taren time alone. Then he’d beg Taren’s forgiveness.

Twenty-Four

T
AREN
DOVE
into the water, transforming as he broke the surface. He imagined the remains of his anger washing off him as he swam with all his strength away from the harbor.

Damn him!
Would Ian not trust him? Taren hadn’t wanted any of this. How simple things had been aboard the
Sea Witch
. He knew he could never return to that life—that he would die without Ian by his side. How could Ian in one breath tell him he was free to make his own choices and the next treat him like a foolish child?

He wanted to shout at Ian that he’d seen Odhrán’s mind. That he understood him. Felt his pain. Knew his suffering. Felt his kind heart. But he knew what Odhrán had shared with him had been for him alone.

At last he settled onto the sea floor and drew his tail to his chest. The rune stone pressed painfully into his skin. He pushed the chain around so the stone fell upon his back, brushing the necklace his mother had left for him.

Mother… what would you think of me now? Would you think me weak?

He closed his eyes and fingered the stones and shells, exploring the ridges and peaks, picturing the pieces tossed on the waves and coming to rest on a beach. He imagined a villager in a faraway land stooping to rifle through the jetsam, recovering the most colorful bits and stringing them in necklaces to sell at a marketplace. Ian had said the workmanship was Ea. Did their brethren still inhabit the waters of the Eastern Lands?

He smiled at the memory of himself as a child. He gripped the necklace tighter and imagined the green of his mother’s eyes. Like Ian’s and so many of the other Ea’s, those eyes called to mind the ocean when the sunlight penetrated the surface. Taren had met only a few Ea with eyes like his. Vurin had once explained that millennia before, the priestly caste were the only Ea who had brown eyes, but that over time, the priests intermarried with the common folk and the color had nearly vanished with the temples.

He let the gentle current rock him until he fell asleep.

H
E
WOKE
to the crashing sound of cannon blasts and the smell of fire. Smoke burned his eyes as he tried to shout, but the only sound that escaped his lips was a wail.

“Duri!” His father’s voice rose over the sound of shouts from above.
We’re aboard a ship
, thought Taren as he struggled to look around him. It was difficult to see because of the smoke, and the blankets blocked his view.

“Over here!” His mother lifted him from the basket and wrapped blankets around him.

“Is Taren…?”

“He’s fine. Aren’t you, little one?” She brushed his hair and tried to calm him, speaking softly to him until his cries abated.

“Take him and head for land,” his father said.

“What?” His mother’s eyes grew wide and her face paled. “But Vurin said we mustn’t transfor—”

“Vurin said to keep Taren safe at all costs.” Taren heard the desperation in his father’s voice. “There’s no hope of making it to the Gateways, let alone the Eastern Lands. The sails are on fire and one of the masts has been too badly damaged.”

There was another volley from the cannons and the ship shuddered.
Goddess!
Taren could only guess the island Ea were their attackers.

“Duri, you must leave now.” His father leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, then kissed his mother. “I’ll find you when I can. Take the gold with you. You may need it to keep yourselves safe.”

“I can’t—” his mother protested.

“You must. You know what the old woman said. We must protect him with our lives.”

“Larin, please. If we must go, let us go together. I couldn’t bear to lose you!” He saw his mother’s tear-streaked face and began to cry again. Her pain became his own, as if he was tethered to her heart.
Don’t leave me alone. Please don’t leave me.

“Love,” his father said, taking his mother’s face in his hands. “Duri. There’s less chance you’ll be seen if you leave without me. Besides, a captain cannot leave his ship in the midst of battle. If the goddess wishes it, we’ll be reunited.”

His mother nodded, then kissed his father one last time. Another crash sounded from above decks, and the ship began to list to one side.

“Hurry now.” His father smiled. “Know that I love you and that I’ll find you both if I can.”

T
AREN
AWOKE
some time later, shivering as his mother dried him and wrapped him in blankets, then smiled down at him. In the moonlight, he could barely make out her features, but she looked pale. He tried to touch her face to reassure her, but she was too far away, his hand too small to reach her. Overhead, laundry hung from ropes. Taren remembered nothing of swimming, but he guessed she had jumped from the burning ship and swum to land.

“I’ll come back for you as soon as I can, my brave Taren,” she said as she reached up to her neck and unknotted something from her throat. The necklace she had left with Borstan. She wrapped it in one of the blankets near his feet, then picked him up and began to run. She stumbled and nearly dropped him, but she didn’t stop until the sounds of the town—Raice Harbor?—had faded into the night.

Taren struggled to see as she clutched him to her breast and rapped on what he guessed was a wooden door.

“Please,” she begged as the door creaked open. “Please help me.”

“I don’t have nothin’ for beggars,” said a familiar voice. Taren couldn’t see him, but he knew it was Borstan.

“I don’t want money,” his mother said as she leaned on the side of the shack.

“What d’ye want, then?”

“My son….”

Taren felt her body shake with the effort to speak. He remembered what Borstan had told him when he and Ian had confronted him:
“She was sickly. Hurt. I dunno.”
For the first time, he understood that she must have been injured after she’d transformed—that she couldn’t have healed her wounds unless she transformed again.

She didn’t transform again because she wanted to get me to safety.

“I have money,” she told Borstan. She set Taren down gently on the grass, and he saw her unbuckle a belt from her waist. Attached to it was a drawstring bag. “Here.” She shoved the money at Borstan, who opened it and stared at it, openmouthed. “There’s plenty of gold to feed him.”

“
Feed
him?” Borstan stared at her in obvious shock.

“You must keep him safe.”

“Woman, I don’t want no boy—”

“Please.” She was in tears now, barely holding herself upright. “Taren’s special. He’ll be smart and a hard worker, just like his father.”

“I don’t need no—”

“I’ll come back for him. But you must keep him safe. Don’t tell anyone about me. I promise I’ll be back. Just take care of him until I do. Please, I beg you!”

“All right,” Borstan said. Taren thought he saw his former master’s eyes light up at the realization that the gold was now his. “But this…?” He palmed one of the coins as if he didn’t believe what he saw.

“Keep it,” she said. “It means nothing to me. But swear you’ll protect him from harm. Swear you’ll tell no one.”

“I swear it.” Borstan shoved the gold into his pocket.

Taren’s mother bent down, catching herself with one hand as she nearly fell. “Taren,” she said, her face so close that he could see the beads of sweat on her brow and hear her shallow breaths. “The goddess has a plan for you. Be well, my brave Taren, and know that you’re loved.” She kissed him on the forehead and he began to cry.

T
HE
DREAM
faded and, with it, the feeling of dread that threatened to suffocate him.
My father was a sea captain
, he thought as he struggled to master his emotions. Pride mingled with his overwhelming sense of loss. His parents had loved each other. They’d wanted him in their lives.
They gave their lives for me. And for what? That I might sulk about my fate?

He’d run away from Ian like a child. Yes, Ian had been wrong not to trust his judgment. But Ian was right to fear Odhrán’s power. Even if Ian trusted him, should he trust the safety of his entire crew to Taren’s faith in Odhrán’s good intentions?