The Shadow Soul (A Dance of Dragons) Page 16

  Not yet.

  Finally, when Rhen reached the edge of the docks, he stopped and scanned the ships for the flag of his kingdom.

  There.

  At the end of the row.

  A spot of red in a cloudless cobalt sky.

  The air shifted, bringing the design fully into view. Rhen grinned—he would recognize that rearing black stallion anywhere. In fact, it might be embroidered on his breastplate underneath the Ourthuri robe that now felt heavy in the salty air.

  Without wasting time, Rhen strode confidently forward, walking over the boards until he reached the base of the ship where a bridge already sat extended.

  "Hello!" He called, but didn’t wait for a response. Turning to look back toward land, he saw the golden garb of King Razzaq's guard shimmering in the distance.

  It was against protocol to board unannounced.

  But, Rhen smirked, breaking rules was one perk of being royal.

  He mounted the bridge and walked slowly on board.

  "Where is your captain?" Rhen asked, louder so his voice carried. This time, he was noticed—and not kindly.

  "Who's asking?" A sailor stepped forward, his skin wrinkled and hard from the days at sea, his nose upturned in disgust. Hostility prickled the air around him, almost tangible.

  Rhen looked over his shoulder. High on deck where he stood, the docks below were mostly out of view. He prayed no Ourthuri would see him now, as in one swoop of his arm, the foreign robe was whisked from his body and dropped into a pool on the floor. In its place rested the royal garb he had donned to see the king.

  Sure, it was ripped and bloodied, but that just made the whole scene more intimidating.

  "I am your prince," Rhen said, dripping with authority. He was in no mood for games. Now that he had stopped moving, the weary ache of loss taunted his bones. The threat of death was still heavy.

  The man's eyes widened, shocked, and he immediately dropped to his knees in respect, dipping his body far lower to the ground than was necessary. "My Lord," he blurted.

  Rhen rolled his eyes—now was not the time for overdone displays of loyalty. He walked closer to the man and leaned down to lay a palm on his tense shoulder. "It is no matter. Anyone would have made the same mistake. Your captain, please?"

  The man stood—a speck of gratitude in his crinkled eyes—and nodded. "Right this way, my Lord."

  As they walked down the length of the ship, crew members paused, staring with open mouths as Rhen walked by. Many men would go a lifetime with nothing more than a glimpse of their prince, but to have him aboard their ship—a merchant ship, not a war ship—that was something unheard of.

  They reached an open door and trotted down a few steep steps until they were completely below decks. Rhen's guide knocked on a closed door. A gruff "come in" sounded through the wood.

  The captain sat behind a desk, hunched over maps and charts with a bulbous glass pressed against his eye. His hat hung from a hook on the wall, black with one white plume. He was bald. His features were sharp, angular despite his age—an age where skin usually began to sag. He looked like a man who did not like to be bothered. A loose, open white shirt hung over his frame. And the only jewel Rhen saw was a ruby circled in gold that hung from one ear.

  After a minute, he looked up from his work, dropping the quill that had left small black stains on his fingers.

  "What…" He trailed off when his eyes came in focus, settling on Rhen and studying him for a moment, confused. "My Lord." He stood to present Rhen with a deep bow. "I am Captain Jelaric, and I am honored to have you on board the Skipping Stone."

  "I fear that will pass." Rhen sighed. "I am Prince Whylrhen, son of Whylfrick, and this," he motioned to Jin behind him, "is my traveling companion, Jin of the Arpapajo people. We arrived this morning on the Old Maid, a retired war ship led by Captain Pygott. While I was visiting with King Razzaq, my men and I were ambushed. Now Jin and I are the only two who remain. I must get back to Rayfort immediately. My father must hear of King Razzaq's treachery as soon as possible, and I am afraid that you are in possession of the only Whylkin ship currently in the harbor."

  The more Rhen spoke, the lower the captain's shoulders fell. His pupils clouded over, filled with worry, and he looked down quickly at the papers below him before returning to Rhen.

  "Da'astiku is being locked down by the king," Rhen continued, pressing on despite the slight twinge of guilt, "but I cannot be found. You must hide both of us and provide safe travel back to my home. Trust you will be handsomely rewarded for all of the trouble this will cause."

  The captain looked down at the papers on his desk, blinked once, and pushed them aside until only one remained. Rhen recognized the hills, the outline of the White Stone Sea, the circle allotting his home city.

  "It would be an honor to help a Son of Whyl," the man said. His deep voice hinted at no ill will, just pure loyalty—a true subject. Looking past Rhen, he asked, "Have they raised the black flag?"

  "Ay," the sailor who had led Rhen below decks said, nodding. Jin remained quiet, surveying the conversation.

  Captain Jelaric sighed and ran a hand through imaginary hair.

  "The black flag?" Rhen asked. Definitely didn’t sound very good.

  "When the Ourthuri raise the black flag, it means their harbor is on lock down—no ships in and no ships out. Normally, they believe the king has been cheated and run inspections to make sure no goods came into the city unannounced—no black market deals. But now, it likely means they are looking for…" He motioned forward, shrugged, "well, you, my Lord."

  "What will they do?" Rhen asked, brows furrowed. He refused to escape one trap just to be led into another.

  "My guess, Prince Whylrhen, is that they will be here any minute. If, as you say, we are the only Whylkin ship, they will want to come below decks, make sure you are not on board and then usher us out as quickly as possible." The captain grabbed his hat from the wall, squeezing it snuggly onto his head. He wore a red sash around his waist.

  Unexpectedly, the captain's entire body stopped, stuck with indecision mirrored in his halted breath. There were options being weighed in his head, different paths with different possible outcomes, until finally he looked at Rhen with an open, honest plea.

  He leaned forward, knuckles resting on the wood of his desk, and whispered, "Luckily, this is not just a trading ship."

  Rhen squinted, looking harder at the red ruby dangling from his ear, the lack of jewels, the multiple maps highlighting very unusual routes across the open ocean.

  He grinned.

  "You're a smuggler," he said.

  A twinkle lit the captain's eye—he had made the right choice in trusting his prince, a prince infamous for his own wayward ways.

  "I assure you, my Prince, that I follow the laws of our lands very precisely. But there are times…" His lips twitched. "Times like the current, when certain circumstances require a somewhat open interpretation of the rules."

  "I couldn't agree more," Rhen said, his voice full of mirth.

  "Then follow me, Son of Whyl, and I will return you to our great King Whylfrick as fast as the Skipping Stone is able."

  13

  JINJI

  ~ DA'ASTIKU ~

  Jinji blinked.

  But when her eyes opened, it was all the same.

  Darkness. Complete and total darkness.

  When the captain said he could hide them, she had had her doubts. But when he moved his desk a few inches to the side, revealing a trap door to a secret compartment, she relaxed.

  Now, shrouded in black with nothing but the echo of her breath against Rhen's, Jinji's hands were starting to clam. Her heart was starting to race. And her breath was starting to quicken.

  Closing her eyes did nothing to halt the fear, because even then all she saw was shadow. Unlike in dreams, where opening her eyes was all it took, here there was no escape.

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood, feeling the imaginary creep of invisible hands. The shadow
was here. The nightmare. She could feel it around her, ensnaring her just at her moment of escape.

  And the only image that kept flashing in her mind was of Maniuk. Of his eyes—his clouded over, white eyes the moment before he took his own life.

  A shiver jetted down her back. Jinji bit her lip to keep from yelping.

  No, she thought, there is nothing. But try as she might to reason, to use logic, the darkness had invaded more than just her vision. It was haunting her, taunting her.

  "Jin?" Rhen's voice floated into her ear, a cool breeze. "Are you okay?"

  She nodded. Then remembered he could not see.

  "Yes." She forced the word out as quietly as possible, hoping the slight crack would not give her away.

  "Jin, can I ask…" Pause. She waited. "Can I ask what happened?"

  "We are supposed to be quiet," she whispered back, but hoped he would not listen. The words were helping ease her mind, were helping distract her from the darkness.

  "I know," he said. A hint of pain laced into the tone, just enough to make him sound like a child, to sound vulnerable. "I just…" He sighed. "Did Captain Pygott suffer? Can you tell me that much?"

  Jinji winced. That was not the question she expected, but her mind flashed to the soft blue eyes that had wished her farewell, the strong arms that had pushed her to freedom. "No," she said, a pang of loss tightened her heart. "No, it was over quickly. He raced down to your cabin to wake me and helped me escape just as the Ourthuri were breaking down the door. I believe they acted very swiftly, as they did with everyone else."

  A deep, shaky breath was her only response. In and out. In and out. Then a sniffle. Another breath. A deep swallow—the gulp was loud enough to hear.

  Jinji sat still, experiencing Rhen's pain with him, wishing she could help. But she knew better than most that there was very little anyone could do to mend a broken heart.

  Her fingers twitched, itching to reach across the small enclosure and wrap around his, but she remained still. Hand-holding was the comfort of a woman, of a—of something she wasn't.

  Men preferred their pain in solace and in silence. At least that was her experience. Her father had always grieved at night, when he thought the rest of the world was fast asleep and safely in the realm of their dreams, a place where they would not hear his cries.

  But Jinji heard.

  She always heard. Her heart ached alongside his, burning with the memory of her brother Janu, but she never reacted. Never stood from her sleeping pad to provide comfort. Because her father, like Rhen, needed to feel strong. Untouchable.

  Even still, her arm moved over an inch.

  Another inch.

  Heat radiated from Rhen's skin, warming Jinji as her hand shifted closer.

  Stop, she commanded, but her wayward fingers disobeyed, pressing even closer, until she was sure their hairs were touching, tickling.

  A creak sounded from above.

  The thud of footsteps.

  Jinji balled her fingers into a fist, hugging her arms close to her chest. Her ears were alert, listening for any and all sound.

  Boots pounded closer. Multiple sets.

  Muffled voices dropped through the floorboards.

  The Ourthuri were right above them, pacing, searching, shouting in anger.

  Yet, somehow, Jinji felt calm. Deep in her heart, she knew the spirits would not have brought her so far just to fail her now—she had to trust in them. And in Rhen, in his decision. The two were all she had left.

  Gradually, the sounds grew softer.

  They faded away.

  Until silence and darkness circled Jinji and Rhen once more.

  This time, Rhen did not break the quiet. So Jinji sat, imagining daylight, using all of her strength to keep her hands still—to keep them from weaving the illusion of light just so she could escape the shadows.

  After a while, the ground below her shifted. The gentle sway of water roughened. The bounces became choppy. They flew higher, landed harder.

  It could only mean one thing—they had set sail.

  They were free.

  A grin took over Jinji's face.

  Boots sounded above them, but no fear flooded her system. The desk scraped against the wood above her head, roaring in her ear. And the trap door opened, gloriously invading Jinji's vision with the sun.

  Rhen climbed out first while Jinji continued taking deep breaths of the fresh air coming in through the open window.

  A hand reached down, gripping hers, and Jinji was airborne as the shadows fell away behind her.

  "We passed the inspection, Prince Whylrhen," Captain Jelaric said, his voice light with amusement.

  Rhen smirked. "I had no doubt. What other nooks do you have tucked away on this ship?"

  The captain winked, bowing deeply. "I'm afraid that is a secret that cannot be shared."

  "Even with your prince?"

  "Especially with my prince, my Lord."

  Rhen nodded in understanding. "Have no fear, the king will not hear of your extra pursuits because of me, not after this."

  "Many thanks, Prince Whylrhen. I suggest you stay below decks until Da'astiku fades from sight. My chambers will be yours for the rest of the journey until we reach Rayfort. Do make yourself comfortable."

  "Will you have food brought? My stomach grows hungrier by the second," Rhen said, his belly rumbling in agreement.

  "Right away, my Lord." The captain bowed and backed away, not turning until he reached the door. It closed quickly with a resounding bang.

  Immediately, Rhen sighed heavily and ran a hand through his curling hair. He turned to Jinji, eyebrows slightly raised. "This is going to be a long trip."

  "It must be shorter than our last one?" Jinji questioned, picturing the maps Rhen had drawn for her in the dirt.

  "I'm not talking about that, Jin. Traveling through the Straits, we'll reach Rayfort in little over a week. But it will be excruciating."

  "Why?" She asked, honestly curious.

  He looked at her, smiling a half smile, shaking his head slightly.

  "You're so entertaining because you don't even know, the politics never even cross your mind. Did you hear the 'my Lords' dripping from their tongues? It's exhausting. And Captain Jelaric, he knows. I heard it in his voice. Make myself comfortable? He meant stay out of sight or his men will trip over themselves to bow every time I step on deck."

  "I guess I do not do that," Jinji mumbled.

  Rhen's grin widened. "No, quite the opposite in fact. The first time you met me, I thought you might kill me. The idea of you bowing has never entered my mind."

  "But these are things I should learn, now that…"

  She trailed off. Now that, what? Now that her family was gone? Her people? Her way of life?

  Now that she was going to meet the king?

  Jinji bit her lip, sinking into the captain's vacated chair.

  What would she do when they reached the King's City? The spirits were guiding her, but to what and where? Despite her earlier fears, the shadow was not here. It had disappeared. And the last she had heard of it was from the two sailors in Whylkin, whispering about mysterious deaths. She was no closer to answers.

  Rhen stepped into view. His black boots were covered in grime—scraped and roughed.

  Jinji's eyes traveled up his legs, up his broad chest, right into his concerned gaze.

  I could tell him.

  It wasn't the first time the thought had crossed her mind.

  She could tell him about the nightmare, about the shadow, about the massacre. She could tell him all of that without telling him she was a woman. And maybe, just maybe, he would be able to help.

  But would he believe her? Fire spirits might cling to his figure, but that didn't mean he knew they were there. It didn’t mean he would believe in magic, would believe in something as preposterous as spiritual possession.

  Yet, in Da'astiku, the princess had believed Jinji enough to abandon reason and help her rescue a stranger. Her figure had been
draped in blue strands of elemental water, and she had seemed well acquainted with the idea of magic, completely unafraid of Jinji's illusions. That had to mean something.

  Even if Rhen had given no hint of—

  A knock sounded at the door.

  "Come in," Rhen said.

  The door swung open to the top of a man's head.

  "My Lord," he said, speaking to the ground. "I brought food." The tray was nearly to the floor he was bent so low.

  "Just put it down here, please." Rhen pointed to the desk. The man scurried forward, keeping his eyes downcast.

  It was a wonder he didn’t fall flat on his face.

  But in almost no time, the tray was prepared and he was backing out of the room.

  "See?" Rhen scowled at the closed door before reaching to grab a piece of ripe fruit. He stepped back, jumping onto the tall bed in the corner of the room, sprawling out until he was comfortable. Still frowning at the door, he took a large, crunchy bite.

  "Can I…" Jinji paused, fiddling with her fingers before finally grabbing a slice of bread from the tray.

  "What?" Rhen raised an eyebrow.

  "Can I ask what happened to you in the palace? And to the other men?" Her mind filtered back to Mikzahooq as he stared out at the horizon, unabashedly proclaiming his own death. He had known exactly what his king would do.

  "I'm still not sure." Rhen shook his head while he munched. "The second we got to that city, our fate was sealed. King Razzaq had no plans to ever let any of us escape. But I don't understand why or how. He must have spies within my kingdom. He's been planning something for a long time, something he was afraid I would mess up.

  "War?"

  "It has to be." Rhen stood and began to walk slowly across the room, just to turn and walk back to the bed, then back across the room, pacing. "I thought it was just the ships," he said slowly, working through his mind, "but it has to be more. He was stealing resources he could easily afford. Ourthuro is flooded with gold, so why resort to thievery? Unless the entire point was to see how much he could take before we noticed? Unless it was a test to see how easily he might invade? Killing your people, that was the first stage, the first unnoticed move against my father. He is planning to attack, of that I am certain—the only question is when."