A Jewel Bright Sea Read online

Page 23


  Yasin hauled Sarrész from the hut and dumped him in front of Druss. Sarrész groaned and spat dirt from his mouth. Blood from a scalp wound trickled down his face. Druss bent over him with a dagger in her hand. She touched the point to his throat.

  “You have something I wish,” she said. “Something you agreed to sell me weeks ago. Where is it?”

  Sarrész licked his lips. “Back on Vyros.”

  Druss pressed the knifepoint a fraction closer. “Where, precisely?”

  He was sweating and shivering. “By those ruins. Outside the walls. You won’t find the spot without me, though. I bought a couple of spells back on the mainland. I used one to hide the jewel. Another one to get away from your people.” He gulped down a breath. “You need me alive, though, to unlock its magic.”

  He was making up the entire story, Anna thought. It was like him, to spin out lies upon lies, until he could find another opportunity to escape.

  Isana Druss stared hard at him, as if she too doubted his explanation. “How convenient for you,” she said softly. “However, you are in luck today, because I have no wish to dig up an entire mountaintop. You will come with us to Vyros. You will show us exactly where you buried that jewel. And if you have lied, you will regret it very much.”

  Her gaze shifted to Anna. “As for you. You are also very lucky. I shall want you to examine the jewel with your magic. You will teach me how to use it.”

  After which, Anna’s usefulness would vanish, along with her life. Unless I can use the jewel to win my freedom.

  It would not do to seem too agreeable, however. Anna frowned, as though considering Druss’s commands.

  A mistake. With two quick strides, Druss closed the distance and grabbed Anna by the chin. “Speak, girl. Tell me you aren’t going to make any trouble.”

  Her dagger winked in the sun, very close to Anna’s eye. The older woman’s hand was hard and callused, her sun-darkened face crisscrossed by whitened scars. There was a strange light in Druss’s eyes, an unsettling air of excitement.

  “No trouble,” Anna whispered. “Unless…”

  Druss’s dark, round eyes glinted. “Kill the other one.”

  “No!” Anna cried out.

  A cool blade pressed against her cheek. Off in the distance, the damned goats were bleating. “It matters what happens to your captain,” Druss observed. “Excellent. But let me make absolutely clear the cost of any lie, any trouble.”

  She released Anna and swiveled around. At her signal, one of the two sailors took hold of Koszenmarc’s arms and jerked him down to his knees. With a kick, he forced Koszenmarc’s legs apart. Druss leaned down and seized Koszenmarc’s groin.

  She gave a hard twist. Koszenmarc bucked and gave a harsh cry.

  “It hurts,” Druss said quietly. “So it should.”

  She jerked her hand upward again. Koszenmarc squealed and collapsed. His face had turned grey, and he was gasping for breath. Druss stepped back with a smile. “Do you understand?” she said to Anna.

  “I…I understand. I promise. No trouble. No lies.”

  “Good.” Druss tucked her dagger into her belt. “Then let us set sail for Vyros.”

  CHAPTER 18

  At Druss’s signal, Anna found herself thrown face down onto the ground. She spat out a mouthful of dirt and tried to squirm free, but one man pinned her with an enormous hand, while another ran a rope from her wrists to her ankles. They hauled her to her feet and one of them hooked his arm around her waist. “Sweet,” he said. “Maybe Druss will give you to us for a bit.”

  Anna snapped at him. He laughed, avoiding her teeth easily.

  “Best be careful of that’un,” his companion said. “She bites.”

  “Maybe I like that.”

  “Maybe,” the other said. “But she bites with magic.” He unwound the scarf from his head and gagged Anna. “There. Now she can’t talk or bite.”

  “Right enough.” The pirate slid a hand under Anna’s shirt and squeezed her breast. “Pity we don’t have a few moments now. But once our captain is done with you...”

  Koszenmarc slammed his head back against one of his captors. The man howled and clutched at his face. A second man grabbed Koszenmarc’s arms and flung him to the ground. Koszenmarc tried to roll away, but first one, then another of the pirates kicked him. Before they could land more than a couple of blows, Druss shoved her way through the crowd, beating the men away with the flat of her sword. “Damned fuckwits,” she barked. “I told you I want him alive.”

  “But he tried to—”

  “Never mind him. He’s trussed up good and tight, or did you forget?” She leaned over Koszenmarc, who lay in a heap on the ground. Druss scowled and nudged him with her boot. He stirred and gave a faint groan. “Lucky bastard,” she said. “You and him both. Now take these three aboard ship, and no more stupid games.”

  Sarrész was carried off first in a makeshift litter. He lay still with his eyes closed, his lips moving in what seemed to be a prayer. Anna didn’t have time to utter a prayer herself. The tallest of her captors swung her over his shoulder and set off with the rest of the crew. Anna’s last sight of Andreas Koszenmarc was his limp body slung between four of the pirates as they half carried, half dragged him along.

  Beyond the village, on the northern shore, two boats had been hauled onto the rocks. Anna’s captor dropped her in the nearest one. Her stomach lurched in time with the boat as it launched to the swells. She’d run out of curses, she had run out of terror altogether. Druss would torture Sarrész until he confessed what he’d done with the jewel. He had likely lied about everything. Druss would slit his throat, then hers, then Andreas Koszenmarc’s. Her only consolation was that her next life could hardly be more miserable than this one.

  The boats drew alongside the ship, and she was hauled up in a sling and dumped onto the deck. Two of the hands grabbed her and swung her onto her feet before dragging her toward an open hatch. Down she went, handled like a sack of flour, and just as carelessly. More thumps and bruises. Down another ladder into a dark, cavernous hold, with only a faint shaft of light leaking down from above. They dropped her onto a heap of ropes and left.

  The hatch closed, shutting out the light. Anna strained against her bonds, trying to work her wrists free. A rat scrabbled over her face. Anna yelped and whipped her head back and forth until the rat vanished into the dark. She shrank into a tight ball, breathing hard through her gag. The ship’s planking groaned, and water trickled over the ropes. There were more rats, not far away. She heard the scratch of their claws, the short sharp squeal as a fight broke out. She was in the cable tier, or a lower storage hold. What had they done with Sarrész? Or Andreas Koszenmarc?

  From far above came the echo of running feet. A woman shouted out orders, and within moments the ship gave a sudden leap. To Vyros, Druss had said. How many days was that? If she could believe her own charts, a week, but she had the distinct impression that Koszenmarc had misled them all, including her, with his constant change of course.

  She rolled onto her back. A few faint lines painted in sunlight showed far above—gaps between the planks, just above the water line. A hard blow would mean water rising in the hold. Unless Druss remembered to send someone to see to her prisoners, Anna might drown just as easily as die from a pirate’s knife.

  She closed her eyes and focused on the ropes that bound her wrists. She only needed to unravel the knots. But when she summoned the magical current, an answering magic, thick and cold, oozed from the ropes. The magic was like a visitation from the far north, so cold it burned her flesh. Anna lost her hold on the current.

  Damn them. Damn them through all their lives.

  The ropes were spelled against magic. That meant Druss had prepared for Anna’s magic long before she and Koszenmarc had set off on this last expedition. There were clues here, but she didn’t have strength to examine them.
r />   She was not certain how long she lay there, damp and aching and hungry, her thoughts circling around uselessly. Once, she thought she saw a lantern off to one side, a brief flash of light that glanced over the hold, but none of the crew descended into the hold itself. She fell into an uneasy doze, woke, and dozed again a while longer, only to wake when a rat scrambled over her. Anna flung herself backwards, startling more rats.

  Hours had passed. The hold was completely dark. The only sounds were the hiss of water streaming past as the ship rode through the seas, the high-pitched thrum from the lines far above, and the constant creak and groan of the planks.

  And in the distance, the harsh, wet rasp of something—no, someone breathing. Another prisoner? Could that possibly be Andreas?

  She braced her feet against the rope coils and shoved herself in the direction of that noisy breathing. Once beyond the ropes, she had to wriggle and squirm to make any progress. More rats scuttled past. She gathered herself into a knot and pushed. Her head bumped into an unexpected obstacle. Warm. Breathing. Alive.

  Whoever it was lay on their side, facing away from her. She worked her way around until they lay face-to-face. She tentatively brushed her cheek against the other’s and felt the rough stubble of a beard. His clothes were sticky with blood, and his every breath made that faint gurgling sound. Andreas. He was alive, but he would die unless she could somehow summon the current, in spite of her gag, in spite of any other traps Druss had laid for them.

  Don’t worry about Druss. Find the current.

  Anna closed her eyes and focused on the point between. It was harder, summoning the magic by thought alone. She called up the memory of Thea sitting opposite her, with the sweet scent of incense filling the air, the hush, hush of surf from the nearby harbor, the bells in the distance, ringing the change of watch.

  Choose an object, Thea told her. Anything at all. Good. Now close your eyes, picture it in your mind, and breathe. Magic is impossible, life is impossible, unless you learn how to breathe, slowly and deliberately.

  She pictured the tapestry in her father’s parlor. Lir, the goddess, alone but smiling, as if she could anticipate her brother-god’s rebirth, though all around her lay winter and death.

  Ei rûf ane gôtter. Komen mir de strôm. Komen mir de zaubernis.

  She breathed in, the taste of salt and blood upon her tongue, willing the current to flow into Andreas’s body. Memories of Thea’s singsong chants guided her, urging the magic as it pulsed in time with her heartbeat. On and on she went, reciting all the spells she knew, by thought alone, even with doubts whispering after her that thought alone was not enough…

  Andreas coughed. “Anna? Is that you?”

  She tried to answer, but the gag muffled her words.

  Andreas shook in silent laughter. “Ah. It must be you. Silenced. You frightened them, I think, with your magic. Hold still.”

  He bit into the cloth beside her mouth and tugged. His lips were warm and soft, his cheeks rough with a days-old beard. Anna went still, hardly able to breathe. It was the closeness of the air, she told herself. The rats. The terror of facing Druss that sent her pulse racing. Not Andreas’s mouth so close to hers.

  She shivered. Andreas stopped at once. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” she mumbled through her gag.

  Andreas bit into the cloth again. With some experimentation, Anna discovered she could help by twisting in one direction as he pulled in another. Slowly, they worked the cloth loose, until Anna could spit the gag from her mouth. She licked her dry lips.

  “Better?” he said.

  “Yes. Thank you.” Her voice came out as a croak.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you saved me with your magic.”

  His cheek brushed against hers, and she could feel his smile. “I wish,” he murmured, “we had my wine flask. But now even a handful of clean, cold water would be welcome.”

  Against her will, she felt laughter bubbling up within.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” she whispered. “Just if I were wishing...I’d wish for so much more.”

  “Ah, you should be a pirate. We petition the gods for small things. The hard ones we grab ourselves.” Abruptly he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, “I hear someone. Pretend to be asleep.”

  A lantern, much brighter than before, cut through the darkness of the hold. And this time, whoever came to check on the prisoners climbed all the way down the ladder and landed with a thump. Andreas immediately went limp. Anna ducked her head into his shoulder. If anyone noticed she no longer had a gag…

  After a few stumbles and curses, the footsteps paused. A boot prodded Anna’s ribs. She groaned. When he prodded her a second time, she muttered a curse and wriggled closer against Koszenmarc before she pretended to fall back asleep.

  “Damned idiots,” a man muttered. “If you weren’t both tied up like hogs, you’d be rutting in the muck, I don’t doubt.” He stomped back up the ladder. “They’re alive,” he called up. “But they don’t look so good. Should I fetch them water and bread? No? Well, if that’s what the captain says…”

  Anna waited, breathless, until she heard the man mount the ladder. “We were lucky,” she whispered.

  “For now,” Andreas said. “Do you know how many days we’ve been on the ship?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “I’m thinking we can’t trust Druss,” he said.

  She gave a huff of laughter. “Did you ever?”

  “Of course not. But once we’ve landed on Vyros, we have less than a day before she decides Sarrész isn’t worth keeping alive, jewel or no jewel. Could your magic be persuaded to unravel these ropes?”

  Her laughter gave way to a growl. “I tried. The ropes are spelled against magic. It’s almost as if they knew what to expect from us.”

  “And exactly where to find us. Very odd, that is.”

  He lapsed into silence. Anna rested her head against his chest, taking what comfort she could from the steady beat of his heart. They were alive, she told herself. Starved and thirsty, but alive. They would survive. They had to.

  Andreas stirred. “I have an idea,” he said. “About the ropes.”

  “What kind of idea?”

  “A very desperate one. Roll over, please. “

  Anna maneuvered herself onto her side. “Didn’t they take your knife?”

  “They did. But I still have my teeth.”

  His breath came in short grunts as he worked himself closer. Briefly he rested his head against her back. Then came more scuffling noises, more grunts, and not a few curses. Without warning, his lips met the flesh of her wrists and Anna jumped.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “I promise not to bite hard.”

  She had bitten him once, as hard as she could.

  “Why not?” she breathed. “It would only be fair.”

  Andreas gave a wheezing laugh. “So it would. Nevertheless.”

  He set to work chewing at her ropes. His progress was slow. Every few moments he stopped and made spitting noises. And the ropes were thick, the knots tight. If only they had Mihali’s goats, Anna thought bitterly. Goats could chew these gods-be-damned ropes into pieces in less than a moment. But all they had were rats and slime. Rats might chew fast enough, but only if—

  “Andreas,” she whispered.

  “Mmm,” came his reply.

  “Stop ruining your teeth. I have an idea.”

  His head turned. He made another spitting noise. “Oh, excellent. What is it?”

  “Rats,” she said.

  A pause followed. “Explain, please.”

  “Rats,” she repeated. “They chew everything. Like goats.”

  “What about goats?”

  “Never mind the goats. Rats have teeth. Sharp ones. They chew an
d chew, just like goats. What if we could convince them to chew through our ropes? Roll over. And stop laughing.”

  He was still laughing as he twisted around. A weak and rasping laugh, but one that cheered her unreasonably. Anna waited until his back bumped into hers, then fumbled at his shirtsleeves. Her hands were numb from the tight bonds, but she managed to catch hold of the cuffs and tugged.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  “The ropes are spelled, but your clothes aren’t.”

  “You want me to take my clothes off?”

  A brief, vivid picture of him naked invaded her thoughts. “Don’t distract me.”

  She tugged at Andreas’s shirtsleeves, pulling them over his wrists. It took more effort to wedge the cloth underneath the ropes. Now she pressed her wrists against his and turned her focus inward to the magic. It came more easily each time, and she hardly needed to speak the words out loud.

  Ei rûf ane gôtter. Ei rûf ane strôm. Komen mir de zouber unde kreft...

  Blood pulsed just beneath her skin. She called to it, called for Andreas’s blood to answer. It was a trick of the magic, to slip open the skin and allow the blood to flow free. Warmth trickled over her hands and soaked into the cloth. Was it enough?

  She was so intent upon her task that she nearly missed the first whispery scratching above and around them. Before it registered what she heard, a mob of hairy creatures swarmed over her. Rats, dozens upon dozens of them, poured over her face and arms and body, over Andreas. They nipped and slashed at them both. She had summoned too much magic—

  Anna’s bonds snapped. She rolled away from the rats and tried to scramble to her feet, in spite of the ropes around her ankles. She stumbled and dropped to her knees, cursing.

  “Keep away!” Andreas called out. He tried to say more, but the rats overwhelmed him. He thrashed about, a garbled cry bursting from his throat.

  “Andreas!”

  Andreas flung himself upright, beating off the rats. He tore off his bloody shirt and hurled it away, and the rats swarmed after it. Anna sped the beasts along with a hurried, whispered spell; sparks of light and fire illuminated the furry horde, a sight that brought Anna’s gorge into her throat. She swallowed, tried to forget the sensation of their claws on her face.