Into the Wind (32 page)

They hardly had time to react when Bastian lunged at them again, this time diving at the place where they stood. Taren watched in horror as Odhrán made a tight circle with his hand and the water rose in a long, thin line, then coalesced into something that looked very much like a spear. He launched it at Bastian’s pale underbelly. He did not miss.

Tears streamed down Taren’s face as the dragon fell from the sky and landed on the edge of the ship, destroying what was left of the railing and taking part of the hull along with it before plunging into the waves. Plumes of steam and smoke rose into the air, followed by a wall of water. Taren ran to what was left of the ship’s edge in time to see Bastian sink beneath the surface. Dead. Taren sensed this as keenly as he sensed Ian’s steady presence behind him.

“Bastian.” Taren’s voice broke as he spoke the name.
No! Not both of them.

Water poured into the gaping hole in the side of the ship and she listed to port. Taren looked for something to hold on to but found Ian’s hand instead. Ian had wrapped a rope around his waist to keep from sliding off the ship. They’d just managed to right themselves and rejoin Odhrán on the foredeck when Odhrán leaned against the railing, shoulders slumped, then collapsed onto the deck, boneless.

“Odhrán!” Taren cried.

“He’s alive,” Ian said as he bent down to touch Odhrán. “I see no wounds. But perhaps the fight with the dragon overtaxed him. Come. We should get him back to his ship. Perhaps he has a healer who can help him.”

Taren nodded dumbly. They would do this. Care for Odhrán, tend to the wounded. Account for the dead. Only then would he grieve.

Thirty

W
ITH
I
AN
at his side, Taren watched from the deck of the
Chimera
as the
Sea Witch
sank beneath the waves, still smoking. They’d left Rider’s body on board—he’d have wanted to be buried with his beloved
Witch.
Watching the ship disappear was almost as terrible as watching Rider die. Or Bastian. Taren swallowed back his grief once more, telling himself that the ship had served them well but was not a living thing like the men who had died this night. Still, he knew he’d mourn that loss.

They brought Odhrán to his quarters to sleep. Garan had tended to him. “He is strong, but the encounter with the dragon has taken much of his strength. A few hours’ sleep will revive him.”

“A few hours?” Taren asked. He noticed the look of concern on Ian’s face and knew Ian still feared Odhrán’s power, in spite of all Odhrán had done for them. He understood Ian’s mistrust, especially after Barra’s betrayal.

“He rarely sleeps,” Garan explained. “He has no need to. Since he is uninjured, a few hours will suffice.” He smiled reassuringly, then added, “I thank you for bringing him to me. He will be more comfortable here. Much as he cares little for his comfort, those of us who care for him
do
.”

Ian’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but Taren noticed. Garan’s obvious affection for Odhrán had not been lost on Ian. Perhaps, in time, Ian would come to trust Odhrán as Taren did.

While Odhrán rested, James took charge of the
Chimera
. He’d sent some of the Ea crew to search the waters for survivors of the
Sea Witch
. Seria was still missing, as were Barra and nearly half a dozen of Rider’s crew, by Taren’s best reckoning.

Barra. Ian hadn’t spoken of him since Rider’s death. So much had happened that Taren guessed it would be some time before the extent of Barra’s treachery would be revealed. Taren knew Ian would not diminish the sacrifice others of his crew had made this day by openly grieving Barra’s loss. But Ian would grieve Barra just as surely as he would the men of the
Sea Witch
who’d died fighting a fight they knew nothing about. By their best count, nine of Rider’s men had perished in the battle.

“Rider’s gone,” Taren said softly, as if by repeating this he might believe it was true.

Ian put his arm around Taren’s shoulders and sighed. “We both loved him,” he said in a low voice.

“And Bastian….” Taren wiped his eyes and forced back his tears. “A dragon? But how?” Had Bastian even known of his dual nature? The look of fear in Bastian’s eyes as the flames licked his body made Taren wonder. It had all happened too quickly for understanding.

“I don’t know. I suppose it’s no stranger than you not knowing your true nature.”

Taren nodded. “I would have liked to understand.” He’d heard the men talking about the dragon and knew they, too, wanted to know more. For those left of the
Sea Witch
’s crew, this seemed particularly difficult, as they had known Bastian and worked beside him for years.

“I will miss him,” Taren added in an undertone. The words seemed too simple to express the depth of his grief, but he could think of no others to do it justice.

“I’m sorry he is gone, as well.”

“He couldn’t live without Rider.” Taren voiced the thought he’d had since Bastian had fallen into the sea. He hadn’t understood it until that moment, but he knew the feeling well.

Odhrán saved Treande when he lost Owyn. Why couldn’t I save Bastian?

“You couldn’t have stopped it,” Ian said, as though he’d read Taren’s thoughts. “You did everything you could.”

Taren leaned against Ian’s solid shoulder and sighed. “What will we do now?”

“Return to the
Phantom
, I suppose.” Ian shook his head. “We’ll repair the
Phantom
and sail for the Eastern Lands in the spring, when the storms abate. If Vurin wishes it, we’ll return first to Callecia.”

Taren’s eyes welled with tears once again. He didn’t fight it this time but let them fall over his cheeks.

Ian drew him closer into his embrace.

“I’m sorry,” Taren said when his tears refused to abate.

Ian kissed Taren’s cheek. “There is no weakness in tears,” he said softly.

Taren buried his face in the crook of Ian’s neck.

“We should rest,” Ian said after a few more minutes passed in silence. “Tomorrow we’ll need to plan our next move, and we’ll need our wits about us.”

Taren nodded, and they walked, hand in hand, to the cabins below.

T
AREN
RUBBED
the sleep from his eyes as he walked to the bow of the
Chimera
a few hours later. Much to his surprise, he saw Odhrán there. His long blond hair trailed down his back in a neat braid, and he wore a textured silk tunic with tiny silver beads at the wrists and hem. Dressed as he was, he reminded Taren of the young Odhrán from the vision. The cuts and gashes that had marked his face during the battle were gone, his face once again perfect. Ethereal.

“Odhrán? I thought you were still asleep.” Odhrán nodded in acknowledgment but said nothing as they stood side by side, watching the sun rise at the edge of the water.

“I’m glad to see you’re well,” Taren said tentatively.

Odhrán pressed his lips together in a tight smile. His eyes, however, betrayed both sadness and exhaustion. “I haven’t needed to sleep in years,” he said. “But… earlier….”

“With… Bastian?” Why was it so difficult for him to speak the name?

Odhrán nodded. “He could have destroyed me…. He could have destroyed us all if he’d wanted to.”

Odhrán’s words took Taren by surprise. If Bastian had indeed been that powerful…. “He wanted to die.” The realization left Taren cold inside. Why hadn’t he convinced Bastian to live? What could he have done differently?

“Aye.” Odhrán shook his head. “There was nothing you could have done, Taren. No words you could have spoken would have changed his mind. Nor is this the first time I’ve had to fight like this.”

“You… when? How?”

“Someday, perhaps,” Odhrán said with a wistful expression, “I will tell you that tale.”

Taren drew a slow breath and gazed out at the bands of red and purple that had appeared on the horizon. A new day.

“We’ve retrieved several launches from the water. A handful of Seria’s human associates. I’ve locked them in the hold.” Odhrán’s eyes focused beyond the sunset, as if he saw something else there. Something Taren could not see. “I’ll speak with Ian later about what we should do with them.”

Taren knew Odhrán owed Ian nothing, that the
Chimera
was Odhrán’s command. “Thank you,” he said. “It will take him time to fully trust you. But it is his fear for me and the rest of his men that drives his distrust.”

“He is right to be wary.” Odhrán forced a smile. “He’s a good man, your captain.”

“Aye.” Taren knew Ian’s solid presence was the only thing keeping his heart from cracking under the strain of his loss. Even now, he sensed the intense grief the surviving crew of the
Sea Witch
felt in the wake of the loss of their captain and quartermaster, and it only served to intensify his own. He wondered if Odhrán had become inured to loss, having watched both human and Ea die. Taren guessed that over time, the pain had become too great for him to bear, and he’d learned to keep his distance, even from those closest to him.

Shouting from the stern interrupted his thoughts. “Captain!” one of the men called. “You must see this!”

Odhrán ran to join the men, who were gathered at the railing, gazing out over the water. Taren followed close behind, and as the men moved out of the way, he caught a glimpse of what they’d all been staring at: several hundred yards off the port side, a whirlpool bubbled and spit. The center of the vortex glowed orange-red, as if fire burned at the heart of it.

“What is it?” Taren gasped.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Odhrán turned to James. “Raise the anchor,” he ordered.

The strange phenomenon did not seem to stir the water beyond its edge, but whatever it was, Taren knew Odhrán wouldn’t risk his ship to find out.

“Put some distance between us and whatever it is,” Odhrán told James, who shouted for some of the men to raise the sails.

“Aye, sir!”

Odhrán began to undress.

“Where are you going?” Taren asked.

“I’m going to take a look. I’ll rejoin the ship—”

“I’ll go with you.” For once, Taren didn’t regret speaking out of turn. He needed to do something. To feel needed. Useful.

“We’ll
both
go with you.”

Taren turned and stared at Ian. How long had he been standing behind them?

“You…? But—” Taren understood how much effort it had taken for Ian not to insist he stay aboard the
Chimera
.

Odhrán met Ian’s gaze and nodded. The ship vibrated beneath their feet as she moved slowly away from the whirlpool. “You’re strong enough, Taren. Stronger than you know.” Ian clenched his jaw, then exhaled. “It’s time I stop treating you like a child.”

“I…,” Taren began, unsure of how to react to Ian’s change of heart. “Thank you.”

“You have nothing to thank me for.” Ian chuckled, though Taren sensed the tension beneath the gesture.

Odhrán raised an eyebrow. “I daresay it’s Ian who should be thankful you haven’t strangled him yet.”

Ian smiled broadly. He nodded his agreement, and they quickly shed their clothes before diving off the starboard side of the ship, Taren first, Ian and Odhrán following. Taren saw Ian’s shock as Odhrán transformed, although Ian hid it well.

The water grew warmer the closer they swam to the reddish light. Taren had expected the current to be powerful this close, but the seas were calm in spite of the wall of swirling water.

Magic.
Taren sensed both Odhrán and Ian’s apprehension and knew they’d also guessed as much. He didn’t add that the magic felt strangely familiar.
Do you think the Council…?
he wondered aloud.

“No. The Council has no magic this powerful,”
Ian said.

“Nor do any of the Ea,”
Odhrán added.

Taren instinctively felt for the stone around his neck. Why did he find it reassuring to touch it now, when just days before he’d feared it? As always, the stone warmed in his hand. How many times had he fingered it since he’d claimed it from the island cave? It called to him. It beckoned him to join with it.

Odhrán glanced his way, and Taren realized he must have read his thoughts.
“Magic often responds to other magic,”
Odhrán said. Taren knew he wouldn’t press the issue of what to do with the stone. Still, he took comfort that Odhrán understood his conflicted thoughts.

They reached the edge of the disturbance and Odhrán raised a hand to touch it. Taren held his breath, then glanced to Ian. Ian nodded reassuringly. Odhrán swam through the swirling waters with a swift kick of his tail, then disappeared behind the wall of swirling water.

Odhrán!
Taren cried.

“I am fine,”
Odhrán told them.
“It’s much like a storm, calm at its center. At first I thought the whirlpool was a bulwark, meant to protect, but it’s something else.”

Taren reached out to touch the vortex. Warm water wrapped itself around his fingers. Power danced over his skin—surprisingly pleasant—as he reached into the column and found it easy to breach. He recognized the sensation. Magic again.