Keith Baker - The Shattered Land

It refused to break.

It simply hung in the air, a cobra waiting to strike. Doom poised above them, as Daine managed to wrap the line around his forearm, and Gerrion clung to the wheel. It was merely a question of whether the wave would finally fall before the vessel completed capsizing.

Then, as quickly as the disaster struck, it came to an end. The towering wave didn’t break; it fell back, gently subsiding into the sea. Daine caught a glimpse of a vast, dark shape moving through the depths, and then, inexplicably, the Gray Cat was rising up. Water fell from deck and sail as the ship righted itself, finally standing straight and true. Now the ocean was truly calm, and the wind had died completely. The Gray Cat had survived, but it was dead in the water.

Pierce! Daine scrambled along the edge of the deck, still clinging to the rope. Daine had fallen asleep in his chainmail shirt, and he’d never been a strong swimmer; leaping into the water with armor on was a sure path to a watery death, but Pierce didn’t need to breathe. He had to be alive. Of course, Pierce had never learned to swim. For a moment Daine had an image of the warforged sinking to the ocean floor, slowly walking back to Stormreach.

He had to be alive.

“Can you see him?” Lei was still holding the rope around her waist. If she’d managed to get the knots undone a moment ago, she would have been swept into the ocean by the second wave. Now she held the rope belt, uncertain whether she trusted the new calm enough to undo her lifeline.

“I do so hate to lose crew,” Gerrion remarked, “but we might want to set to the oars and get out of these troubled waters before something worse comes along. Better to lose one than five.”

Daine ignored him, studying the still waters for any sign of motion. Was that a glint of metal, deep in the darkness? Rising to the surface?

It was-but he was not alone. A vast spout of water rose up from the sea, but this was no wave, and it didn’t even shake the ship. A shower of spray washed across the deck, obscuring their view, then they saw her through the mist.

A woman was gazing down at the Gray Cat . She was at least thirty feet tall, dressed in a long flowing robe-a robe formed of water. As the mist cleared and the sunlight struck her, Daine realized that the gown was a part of her. Her clear blue skin was still water, and her long white hair was bubbling surf; the surface of the gown was flowing water, the current giving the appearance of textured cloth. The hem of the gown disappeared into the sea.

And Pierce was in one liquid hand.

For a moment, Daine was stunned by the sight. She was beautiful and strange, as close to a god as he’d ever thought to see. This only lasted a second: his friend’s life was at stake, and there was no time for awe. Even as he wracked his brain for a plan-wondering if there was time to act before she could strike the ship, whether Lei’s magic arrows could affect such a magnificent creature-she reached down, placing Pierce on the deck of the ship.

Be not afraid . The voice swept across them like the tide itself. It was the sound of a gentle brook, of a tumbling waterfall, and Daine couldn’t say whether the sound was shaped into actual words or if they simply somehow knew what it wished to tell them.

“Pierce, are you hurt?”

“No, Daine. It was an interesting experience, but I am none the worse for it.”

Bursting free of the rope at last, Lei ran over and wrapped her arms around the dripping warforged, even as she stared up at the watery figure.

Distant forces turned the waters against you, but I have calmed the restless spirits . The voice was soothing, as calm and hypnotic as slow waves at sunset. My mark is upon you, and you will reach your destination without further trouble .

“You know this because you know our destination?”

There is little I do not know, Daine with no family name. Your journey is just beginning. Darkness is at your heels, and your journey will take you through death and dream. Water will not harm you, but this is the season of fire .

“I’d heard that,” Daine said, glancing over at Lei. He questioned her with his expression, but she just shook her head. “How do you know who we are?”

We have met before, Daine, and we will meet again before this is done. I watch and I wait, and I act when I can-but there is little I can say and less I can do .

“Well, I thank you for saving my vessel, good spirit of the seas,” Gerrion put in.

The waters composing the spirit grew darker, and her voice was thundering surf instead of gentle tide. I do nothing for you, child of the Sulatar. You have your own destiny, and it is not my place to change it. Count yourself lucky that you do not travel the seas alone this day .

Gerrion bowed his head, stepping back to the wheel. “My humblest apologies, great lady.” Daine and Lei exchanged looks.

The time for talk is done, and the currents draw you to your destiny. Remember: sometimes the oathbreaker is more trustworthy than the ally, and a brother can be both enemy and friend. I will see you again beyond the gates of night .

With that, she was gone. Whatever force was binding her body relaxed, and a fountain of water crashed down into the surface of the sea, spraying salt water across the deck of the Gray Cat .

No one spoke. Even the usually garrulous Gerrion was at a loss for words; he kept his eyes away from the others, and Daine wondered what a “Sulatar” was. The wind slowly picked up, billowing out the sail, and the ship began to move.

Daine slowly walked toward Lei and Pierce. Lei was fussing over the warforged, studying every joint; she did not look at Daine as he approached.

Motion in the corner of his vision brought Daine to a halt, and he turned toward the small cabin at the back of the boat. Lakashtai stepped out of the hatch.

“I was engaged in deep meditation,” she said, taking in the soaked sail and the bedraggled travelers. “Did something happen in my absence?”

Daine glanced at the others then shrugged. “Stormy weather,” he said.

Whether it was the result of mystical protection or simple good fortune, the day passed without further incident. Once Daine thought he saw a vast dark shape moving beneath the water, but predator or spirit, it did not rise to threaten the Gray Cat . The storms that lingered over the Thunder Sea held their distance, forming a dark wall to the north.

Though the waters were calm, the moods of the passengers were anything but. Lei had been avoiding Daine ever since the attack, devoting her attention to Pierce and pointedly looking away and falling silent the few times he approached. He could have forced the issue, but the Gray Cat was too small for privacy, and Daine didn’t want to continue the conversation around Gerrion or Lakashtai. In the end, he didn’t know what to say.

It had been many years since Daine had been a member of House Deneith, and it simply wasn’t a part of his identity. He had chosen to leave. In part this was a protest against the actions of the house itself. Cannith, Orien, Deneith: if the houses had joined together in support of the rightful queen of Galifar, the civil war might have ended before it had ever begun, but the war was an opportunity for the houses. The conflict brought many opportunities for profit: Deneith mercenaries, Jorasco healers, Cannith smiths-every house had an angle to work in the war. Greed and lust for power came before any sense of decency or compassion or loyalty to any land.

The policies of the house were only one factor in his decision. Long before his dreams had come under siege, he’d been haunted by nightmares of the things he’d done in the service of the house. Spilling blood for gold was bad enough, but when he thought back to his younger years in Metrol, to Alina’s hall of mirrors-the memories still burned. It had been Jode who’d pulled him up from that moral abyss, and now all that remained of Jode was a glass vial in his pocket.