Into the Wind (9 page)

T
AREN
AND
Brynn slept under the stars not far from the thicket of trees where they’d hidden the small fishing boat. It had taken them several hours to carry the boat through the thick forest to a secluded cove where they wouldn’t be spotted by the villagers, and by then, it had been too dark to sail.

Taren hadn’t wanted to risk making a fire for fear they might be spotted, so they ate the fish they’d caught in the small net left in the boat without cooking it. Brynn didn’t seem to mind. Taren watched as Brynn thoroughly licked each of his fingers after tossing what was left of a fish—little more than bones—into the nearby bushes. Taren knew few humans who would eat raw fish without complaint. He guessed the boy often went hungry.

“Where do you live?” Taren asked as he drank the water from one of the coconuts he’d harvested from a nearby tree.

“Here and there,” Brynn answered with a shrug.

“Parents?”

Another shrug.

Taren passed the half-empty coconut to the boy, who drank the remaining liquid and set the shell down beside him. “What do you know about Odhrán?”

“Not much. He pays me enough that I can eat.” Brynn pointed to Taren’s half-eaten fish and asked, “Are you going to finish that?”

“You’re welcome to it.”

Brynn took the fish and devoured it in the blink of an eye.

“Haven’t been paid recently?” Taren sat back on his hands and watched Brynn wipe his face with the back of his hand.

Brynn scowled and scratched his head. His hair was long, even longer than Taren’s, and so light that it appeared almost white in the fading light. Some of the strands near the front of his face were woven into tiny braids, knotted at the ends. Taren had seen few boys as beautiful. His delicate features called to mind a girl, but his forward manner was anything but feminine.

“What do you do aboard the
Phantom
?” Brynn asked after he’d settled back comfortably on the sand.

“Rigger,” Taren answered.

“Really? I’d’ve taken you for the sailing master.”

Taren laughed. “Hardly.” Ian often spoke to him about taking a more powerful position aboard the
Phantom
, but Taren always refused. He’d happily served as a deckhand on the
Sea Witch
before he’d met Ian.

The
Sea Witch!
How had he forgotten the name before? Taren felt profound relief to have remembered this.
Fiall
. The boy from the ship. He’d hit his head on a mast and the ship’s surgeon had tended to him. With this memory came several others: Rider, the
Witch
’s captain, offering him his freedom in exchange for three years of servitude, and the first night he’d shared his body with Rider and Bastian.

Brynn shook his head. “Don’t get many large ships around here. Mostly they stay away because of the pirates, but the town’s harbor is shallow, so most of the ships put into port on Cera.” He stared up at the sky, where a few stars were now visible in the deepening darkness. “Why did you leave your ship?”

“I wanted a drink at the town tavern.”

“You lie.” Brynn didn’t seem particularly concerned about this. “Did you fall overboard during the battle?”

“You really do ask too many questions, boy.” Taren repressed a laugh. Brynn was charming. Irritating, but charming.

“What do you want with Odhrán?”

“Nothing you need be concerned with.” Taren was tempted to point out that this was yet another question, but he found himself enjoying the banter.

Brynn smiled. “I hear he has a mountain of gold hidden in a cavern on one of these islands and a dragon who stands watch over it.”

Taren knew Brynn was casting for answers. “I’m not interested in gold,” he replied. He watched for the boy’s reaction.

“They all say that.”

Clever boy.
Taren was beginning to believe Brynn
did
know the pirate. Odhrán had a reputation for being wily—no doubt a sharp boy like Brynn would be the perfect set of eyes and ears for the reclusive pirate to keep abreast of happenings around the islands. “Believe what you wish. Our bargain did not include sharing my secrets.”

Brynn kicked the sand with a slender foot. “Our bargain could include more than just information, you know.” The way he stroked his neck with the backs of his fingers was openly flirtatious.

“You’re far too young,” Taren said with a chuckle. “Besides, my heart is already spoken for.”

“Pity. I can see by the way you look at me that you think I’m pretty.” Brynn ran the tip of his tongue over his pink lips. “Who is he?”

Whelp.
“You’re far too clever for your own good, you know.” Taren yawned and lay down in the sand.

“You admit it, then,” Brynn pressed. “You think I’m pretty?”

“You’re pretty. Now can we get some sleep?” Taren had no intention of sleeping—even if he believed the boy would do him no harm, he didn’t fully trust him either.

“Good night, Taren. If you should change your mind….”

“Good night, Brynn.”

Seven

“I
S
HE
awake yet?” said a man’s voice, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. Taren looked around to see where the voice had come from, but saw only the thatching of a roof. He inhaled the sweet scent of pine and incense and wondered if perhaps he was Treande once more, asleep beside his beloved Owyn.

“He’s still tired after the consecration. Aren’t you, little one?”

Taren gazed up into a pair of green eyes, then blinked and yawned in quick succession. He stretched his arms and marveled to see how smooth and pale they were. His hands were tiny, with chubby fingers he couldn’t quite control. When he tried to speak, the soft cooing sound that issued from his lips took him by surprise.

I’m a baby?

The man came into view. Brown-eyed, with dark hair, pale skin, and a hint of freckles on his high cheekbones, he wore an expression of genuine happiness. Pride. Pleasure. Love, perhaps?

“Taren,” the man said, as if he were speaking the name for the first time, letting it settle upon his lips. “What a strange name.”

“A human name,” the woman said. “The goddess’s choice for him. I think it’s quite beautiful.”

“Little Taren,” the man said in a gentle voice. “Vurin says you will grow to be strong.” He tickled Taren’s chin with a long finger, and Taren murmured happily.

Vurin?

“Larin,” the woman said, “he looks so much like you. Will you be a sailor like your father, my brave Taren?” she asked. “Or will you tend the fields like your mother?”

My parents!

She smiled once more, then gathered him into her arms. Taren reached for her cheek and inhaled the scent of freesia and sweetgrass. She was as beautiful as he’d imagined, with skin the color of the moon and black hair like the finest silk. She smiled down at him and tiny creases formed in the corners of her eyes.

“He says he prefers to look like you, beloved,” Larin said with a chuckle. “You are far prettier than I.” He wrapped his arms around them both and kissed her neck.

“Did you see the old priestess fawn over him?” Taren’s mother asked. “She held him for so long, Vurin had to take him from her to begin the ceremony.”

“How could she not admire his beauty?”

His mother laughed, a musical sound that filled Taren’s heart as much as his ears. “Zea’s been blind for ten years! Sometimes I wonder if it isn’t only her sight that’s left her.”

“Duri! You mustn’t joke about her. The goddess will—”

“Laugh,” his mother finished. “Even the goddess has a sense of humor. Zea laughs at herself more than you know. And she loves to say her mother was even stranger. Some say she speaks to her mother, Aerin, through the veil of death.” She kissed Larin, then kissed her finger and pressed it to Taren’s lips.

“What did she say about Taren?”

“That the blood of the priests runs strong in his veins,” she said, imitating the quavering voice of an old woman.

Larin chuckled. “Mage, indeed! Anyone could have said the same knowing our families. The Council’s been testing our kin for centuries now. Goddess only knows what they’d have done if any one of us possessed the ancient gifts. No doubt our son will be as wonderfully ungifted as we are.”

“She seemed to think otherwise,” Duri said as she tickled Taren’s belly and nudged his face with her cheek. “Didn’t you see how she pulled Vurin aside after the consecration?”

“She’s probably already decided on a mate for Taren.”

“And what’s so wrong about that?” Duri grinned at her husband. “She was hardly wrong about you. Or are you having second thoughts about our handfasting?”

“Never.” Larin kissed her cheek and gazed down at Taren again. “She may be a bit doddering, but she knows how to make a match. Still, you and I were a bit older than Taren when she suggested we meet.”

Taren yawned and struggled to keep his eyes open.

“You need to sleep now, my sweet,” Duri said as she placed Taren back in the basket and arranged the blankets around him. “Tomorrow we will take you to the water for the first time. You should see how handsome your father is when he transforms.” She began to sing, a sweet lullaby he knew he’d heard before.

I don’t want to sleep. I want to stay here with you!

“M
OTHER
. P
LEASE
let me stay,” Taren mumbled. Why was his mouth filled with sand? He was supposed to be sleeping. It had been so warm under the blankets.

“Wake up!”

Taren awoke to discover Brynn leaning over him, his expression set in a frown. “I… where…?” He felt disoriented, as he often did after a vision. It had ended too soon. Maybe if he just closed his eyes, he’d find himself back in the basket with his mother’s voice singing to him.

“Lost your mother?”

Stupid fool!
If he’d wanted to harm you—

“You’re still worried I might hurt you, aren’t you?” Brynn appeared pleased with this conclusion.

Taren ignored this, although he figured Brynn had a point. As out of sorts as he’d been since he’d washed up on the beach, Taren knew he’d been careless with his own safety. “Go back to sleep,” he grumbled, unwilling to dignify the question with a response. “It’s
you
who should be worried of what I’ll do if it turns out you lied to me about Odhrán.”

Brynn crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “I haven’t lied. You’ll see.”

Taren repressed a chuckle. “That I will,” he said as Brynn lay back down on the sand. “That I will.”

Eight

T
HEY
SET
out at dawn after loading the small boat with coconuts. Brynn explained that it would take them nearly the entire day to reach Odhrán’s island, and while they might be able to fish along the way, there would be no fresh water for them to drink.

Thankfully, the sun played a game of cat and mouse with the soft white clouds as Taren rowed. Brynn offered to help, but thin as Brynn was, Taren figured he’d let the boy rest a bit. Taren’s body still ached from his injuries, but he embraced the physical labor. It helped keep his mind off Ian and his crewmates, at least temporarily.

The faster you find Odhrán, the faster you’ll be reunited with them
, he reminded himself as he pushed away his unease at being separated from Ian. He disliked making decisions such as this one, but having done so, he resolved not to doubt his choices. Or at least he resolved to
try
not to doubt them.

“Were you born on these islands?” he asked Brynn as the island grew small on the horizon.

“No.”

“Where are you from?”

Brynn shrugged and gazed skyward at the gulls that had followed them since they’d left the beach.

Much as Taren wished to learn more about the boy, Brynn was clearly reticent to speak about himself, and Taren wouldn’t press him. Best to try to draw him out first. Speak of something less personal. “What more do you know about Odhrán?” he asked.

Brynn looked back at Taren, clearly pleased to share what he knew. “He is powerfully strong. Stronger than you, even. They say he can kill a man your size with his bare hands.”