Кейт Форсит - Relics, Wrecks and Ruins - Anthology of Speculative Fiction Short Works

Clera had said much the same. After.

The wind was with Ruli’s ship The Pride of Ren , and the voyage proved short. A horse couldn’t have run the distance faster, Ruli claimed. Even so, the three scant hours managed to crawl by, each awkward silence stretching out for an age while consuming almost no actual time.

Part of Nona wanted to grab Clera by the shoulders and steer her to Ara then demand she give a true accounting of their moment beneath the oak at the center of the novice cloister in the bright of the moon.

Nona had already told Ara. “ She kissed me ! I wasn’t expecting it.”

“You could have stopped her.”

“She was too quick!”

Ara snorted then and shook her head. “Too quick for Mistress Blade of Sweet Mercy Convent? Too quick for the Shield of the Chosen, who can pluck arrows from the air and write her name on a wall as she’s falling past it?”

Nona had wanted to say that she was confused, taken by surprise, shocked. All of those things. She’d wanted to pile her excuses up until they made a wall so high that nobody, not even Ara, could see over to the truth. But the truth was, when Clera—the friend she hadn’t quit despite Clera’s betrayal against her and violence against those she loved—had stood on tiptoes and pressed her lips to Nona’s she had been swift but not so fast she could not have been evaded, and when their mouths met and their breath mingled, Nona had stayed, caught in the moment, for heartbeat after heartbeat, breaking away only when, after the passage of a full and achingly long second, a proper guilt flooded in to wash away a host of less worthy emotions and desires.

“No.” She had pushed Clera to the length of her arms. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve always wanted you.” Clera wouldn’t look away like she should.

“You never said anything.”

Clera laughed. “We were children when I left. Ara didn’t notice girls or boys until she was eighteen, so forgive me for not declaring my love when I was twelve.”

“Love?” Nona knew Clera had endless girls in Verity.

“Always.” Clera tried to step closer, but Nona had kept her at a distance that while not safe was at least safer.

A sailor’s cry cut through Nona’s reflections. “Land ho!”

And there in the gray distance, amid an ice-speckled sea, a dark fist of mist-wreathed stone defied the waves.

“We’ll lower a boat,” Ruli said. “I’m keeping my crew at a safe distance.”

“Can any of us handle a boat?” Nona glanced from Ara to Clera, thinking they were as out of their element as she was.

“Of course I can, silly.” Ruli waved sailors forward to prepare the rowboat.

Clera grinned. “You promised your husband you’d stay on the ship.”

Ruli flapped a hand to brush the words away. “He knows my uncle was a pirate. He should expect me to lie.”

“Is it always this rough?” The smaller vessel lurched and rolled beneath them and the waves seemed much bigger now that Nona was within touching distance.

“Every landlubber says that the first time.” Ruli grinned at her and bent her back to the oars. Despite the sea’s constant efforts to throw her off course, her strokes were slowly devouring the distance to the island’s rocky shore.

“What the in the hells is that?” Clera, who had taken on a green tinge since joining them in the rowboat, released her death grip on the side for long enough to jab an accusatory finger in the direction of the island.

“A big rock,” Ara replied through gritted teeth.

Despite the ferocity of the wind out on the Marn, the island managed to shroud itself in an ever-shifting cowl of mists—testimony to the heat that had kept the ice at bay.

“It was a… a thing… of some kind.” Clera scowled at the island as if the intensity of her stare could clear a path to whatever had caught her eye.

“Well, you appear to have answered your own question, merchant.” Ara kept her gaze forwards. “It was a thing. Perhaps you can sell it and cover your costs for the trip.”

Clera rallied as she always did when under attack. “I expect so. I’m a very good merchant though I’d have made a terrible nun.”

“We can agree on that,” Ara said.

“It was probably a monster,” Nona said, keen to steer the conversation away from conflict. “That’s what we’re here for. Let’s be ready for them.”

Ruli lent her support between strokes of the oars. “I’m sure the abbess’s plan wasn’t to have the monster choke to death on an extra big mouthful of squabbling nuns and ex-novices. So, keep your eyes open. I can’t even see the island from here and I’d rather not sink on a rock before we get there.”

A short while later, Nona splashed ashore with Ara at one shoulder and Clera at the other while Ruli secured the boat. The mists rose from the dark grit of the beach itself. Nona dipped to scoop up a handful of the coarse sand. It was warm and steamed in her palm. The fog streamed out to sea, so thick that the ‘thing’ that Clera had spotted could be looming over them right now and remain unseen.

“Stay sharp.” Ara drew her blade and Nona’s cleared the scabbard a moment later.

Ara led the way up to the rocky slope, aiming for the interior. Properly, Nona should be in charge, but Ara had been raised to lead and instinct often carried her past the limits of convent ranks.

A sudden change in the wind revealed the whole beach behind them for a few heartbeats before swirling in new clouds to hide it once more.

“No monsters there,” Ruli said, joining them.

“I know what I saw,” Clera said darkly.

“What did you see?” Nona asked.

“It was big.” Clera pulled a knife from her belt as if the matter were settled.

They climbed the slope, winding through a tumble of jagged black rocks and following the contours of the land up a gentler, but still steep, hillside beyond.

“Thank the Ancestor!” Ruli exclaimed as a shift in the wind revealed that the slope ended not far above them. “There is a top!”

“Grass,” Ara commented, pointing at a patch of green questing up between the stones.

They crested what turned out to be a surprisingly sharp rim and began to negotiate a winding path down the other side which proved considerably steeper than the one they’d climbed. The fog shrouding them made it impossible to tell how far they’d fall if they slipped. It was an unsettling feeling and Nona kept a close eye on Ruli. The others might be able to catch themselves if they tripped but Ruli lacked their quickness.

“Careful here.” Ara slowed to descend a near vertical slope of wet rock that offered few ridges for hands and feet.

“I’m always—” The wind gusted, parting the mists. Ruli shrieked, reaching for support.

Something loomed over the women. A creature so large it defied reason. The black bulk of it wasn’t just larger than a house, it was larger than a roadside tavern with guest rooms and a beer garden. A sinuous tail snaked away down the slope while a neck so long and thin that it resembled a serpent lofted above them, supporting a blunt head not unlike that of one of the tiny lizards that haunted the cracks of the Rock of Faith, only vastly bigger. In fact, if not for the four trunk-like legs, the creature might be mistaken for a colossal snake that had bloated its midsection by swallowing a whale.

Nona sprang into action, dropping into the moment, moving so fast that Ruli and the monster seemed frozen in place. Only Ara and Clera could match her, Ara sprinting up the wet cliff to join her, Clera scrambling for cover and finding none. Fear didn’t enter into Nona’s calculations. Her opponent’s size simply wasn’t a factor when three of her friends stood at risk.