ARC: The Wizard's Promise (4 page)

“He wasn’t terribly chatty, but he did rush me about. Said something about having to meet someone.”

My good mood evaporated. Meet someone? Who could he possibly be meeting? We had been blown here by accident.

I pushed the doubts aside. Maybe he had a friend here. Granted, I didn’t know how, since no one befriends those from the other island, and besides, he hardly had friends in the village, save Mama. Perhaps he was asking around for a way to get us home.

“Did he say where?”

The old man shook his head. “But there aren’t many places to meet here in Beshel-by-the-Sea. There’s the lodging out on the edge of the woods, and Mrs Arnui’s inn, in town.”

I considered the two options. Kolur never liked to venture too far from the sea, so I figured it was safer to put him at the inn.

“Thank you,” I told the old man. “That was very helpful.”

His smile brightened. “If you need repairs, you know where to come.”

I left the repair yard and made my way back to the village. The wind had picked up, blowing in from the north, cold tricky gusts that stirred up my hair and sent all the shopkeepers rushing to latch their shutters. I wrapped my arms around my chest and kept my head tilted down, checking the sign of each shop as I passed, looking for an inn. The wind blew. It didn’t feel like Kjoran wind; it was sharper, and with a sweet scent to it, like ice berries or frozen flowers. A pleasant change from the brine of fish.

I found the inn easily. It was tucked down close to the docks, marked by a pair of thin, spindly trees that were out of place in the rocky landscape.
Inn
, the handpainted sign read.

I went in. The wind ripped the door from my hand and slammed it up against the wall, and every face in the room looked up at me. All the murmuring stopped. I froze, feeling vulnerable and afraid. I was in a strange place, and these people were all strangers.

“Shut the door!” A woman bustled up to me, her sleeves pushed up to her elbows. “You’re letting in the Abelas.” She grabbed the door and slammed it shut. “When they get like this, blowing down from the mountains, they’ll stir up anything bad enough if you let them.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I straightened up my spine. “I’m looking for a friend. He’s Kjoran.”

“In the back.” The woman sounded bored and harried at the same time. I wondered if she was Mrs Arnui. “If you want something to eat, let Addie know. We’ve got elk stew today.”

And then she scurried off to a nearby table, the benches lined with bearded fishermen.

I went toward the back of the room, looking for Kolur’s brown hair. When I found him, he was facing away from the door, hunched over a bowl of that elk stew, talking to a woman. She glanced at me as I approached, the candlelight flickering in her eyes.

“Got a few weeks’ time–” Kolur stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Hanna! You found it.”

“Found it?” I stomped over to the table and slid into the bench beside him. “I’ve been looking for you all morning. I went to the repair yard and a magic shop and I had
no idea
– and why are we in Skalir? How is that even possible?”

My ranting was met with silence. The woman kept staring at me with a dark, hollow expression.

Then Kolur laughed. “Oh, you stupid girl, you didn’t see my note.”

I glared at him.

“I pinned it next to your bed. Told you exactly where to find me.” He laughed again. “Guess you were in a hurry to get home? Thought we were in Kjora?”

The woman sighed and lifted one hand. A girl appeared. She was a smaller, shorter version of the woman who had yelled at me to shut the door, and she immediately refilled the woman’s glass with frothy amber-colored ale.

“No,” I said. “I thought we were in Akel. How the hell are we in Skalir?”

Kolur turned back to his stew. The woman took a long drink of her ale. Then she spoke. “You ought to just tell her, Kolur.”

Her voice vibrated inside my head. It was rich and sonorous, like the bottle of Empire wine Mama opened up on her birthday one year.

“What’s there to tell? Are you hungry, Hanna? I imagine you are, after that charm you cast last night. Addie!”

The girl appeared again.

“Bring Hanna here a bowl of this elk stew. And a glass of milk.” Kolur peered at me. “Milk does wonders, helping you get over the magic exhaustion.”

I wondered how the hell someone like Kolur would know that.

“I’m over it,” I said. “I just want to know what’s going on.” The woman watched Kolur and me both. She was probably Kolur’s age, but she didn’t look as worn-down by life as he did.

“To answer your question,” Kolur said, stirring at his elk stew, “we’re in Skalir because that ice storm wasn’t just a storm. There was magic in it.”

“I figured out that much. What sort of magic?”

“The wild sort. It’s of no concern to you. Just know that it brought us here. Probably would’ve blown us farther, if I hadn’t cast a quick redirection charm. I knew Frida here could help us.”

“Redirection charm?”

The woman flashed a quick, hard smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Hanna. I apologize for Kolur’s rudeness.” She held out one hand, long and tanned and graceful. “He should have introduced us right away.”

I took her hand, hesitantly, and shook it. When our skin touched, my blood sparked; she was some sort of witch, to have such strong magic running through her body.

She smiled again, dropped her hand, and took a drink.

“Frida’s an old friend,” Kolur said.

“You don’t have friends,” I said. “And how did you cast a redirection charm? You can’t do magic.”

Kolur looked down at the table and didn’t answer. Addie reappeared and set down a bowl of stew and a cup of milk. As much I didn’t want to admit it, the smell of the stew made my mouth water and my stomach rumble. I really did need to eat.

I picked up the bowl and took a long sip. Kolur nodded approvingly. “Told you.”

“When are we going home?”

There was a pause. Voices hummed around us, all speaking that strange, foreign dialect.

“You that excited to be back in the village?”

“No. I’m just curious.” I gulped down my stew. It was delicious, the meat tender and falling apart, the broth flavored by herbs like the ones Mama grew in her garden.

“A couple days’ time, most like.” He stared down at his own stew as he spoke. “We’ll get started repairing the boat tomorrow. There was a bit of damage, mostly magical. Frida should be able to take care of it.”

“Not you? Since you can cast redirection charms now?”

“That was a fluke.” Kolur took a drink of ale.

I kept eating my stew. A couple days’ time on an island I only knew from the carvings on Papa’s map. It was a sort of adventure, like the ones Mama used to have. Hanging around the Skalirin docks wasn’t exactly the same as sailing a pirate ship through Empire waters, the way I used to pretend when I was a little girl, but it was as close as I was likely to come.

Still, doubt niggled at me. As excited as I was to see beyond the shores of Kjora, I couldn’t shake the discomfort that something was wrong. Kolur couldn’t do magic beyond the same few charms everyone can do, and it was strange that Kolur, who aside from his friendship with Mama was one of the most conventional Kjorans in the village, would have a friend on another island.

That his friend was a witch, well, that was even stranger. Exciting, too. But mostly strange. And I didn’t know why.

Kolur set down his ale and leaned back on the bench. Something in his expression was off – not wrong, exactly, but
different
, the way the wind had felt as it blew through the town. It gave me the same sort of chill. He looked across the table at Frida and I followed his gaze, peering at her over my soup bowl. She stared back at me with eyes like oceans. They were just as unpredictable.

CHAPTER 3

As it turned out, the repairs were even more minor than Kolur had suggested, and by the next afternoon the
Penelope
was fit to sail again. I hardly had to do anything at all, mostly just hand Frida foul-smelling powders and unguents as she made her way around the ship, casting unfamiliar spells. It was the closest I’d ever come to apprenticing as a wizard, and it was a disappointment to learn that it didn’t feel all that different from apprenticing as a fisherman.

I could sense Frida’s power crackling against my own, but there was a restraint to it. She wasn’t showing me everything she could do. Every time I handed her something – some ground-up shells, a bit of dried seaweed – that magic would arc between us and then fizzle away, and I wondered what she was keeping from me. All her spells were sea-magic, something I was familiar with but hadn’t really seen, and it was frustrating to sense her power but not be able to fully experience it.

I wondered if proper witch’s apprenticeships were this frustrating.

Kolur watched the repairs from his usual place up at the helm, eating dried wildflower seeds. When I asked about them, he said they were a Skalirin specialty.

“How do you know about Skalirin specialties?” I said. “Are you telling me you’ve been off Kjora before?”

“I’m a fisherman,” he said.

“That doesn’t answer my question. My Papa’s a fisherman and he’s never sailed out of Kjoran waters.”

Kolur just ignored me, though. “Here, try one.” He handed me a wildflower seed. It was a small, dark dot in my palm. I glared down at it, angry with Kolur for keeping secrets.

“You wanted adventure,” he said.

I wanted answers, too. Still, I tossed the seed into my mouth, figuring I could ask him again once we made sail. The seed burned my tongue and I spat it out on deck. Kolur laughed at me.

“Ass,” I said, wiping at my mouth. “Is this really all I’m going to get to see of Skalir? Some burning seeds and a shabby dock town?”

“It’s probably for the best,” Kolur said. “Skalir’s a backwards little island. Isn’t that right, Frida?”

She glanced up at him from her place at the bow, where she was finishing the last of the repair spells.

“Not so backwards when you leave the shore and go into the mountains.” She blew a swirl of glittering powder out into the water, and the ocean churned around us. “For good luck,” she added, looking at me.

I’d never seen that kind of good luck charm before, but before I could ask more about it Frida was walking back toward Kolur.

“Too many fishermen around,” she said. “That’s why Skalir seems so backwards.”

She grinned, so I took it for a joke and laughed, even though I was technically a fisherman. But Kolur didn’t find it so funny.

“Fishermen are honest folk,” he snapped. “Unlike your lot.”

“My lot?” Frida said. “You would know–”

“Hanna.” Kolur stood up and shoved his package of wildflower seeds into his pocket. “Check with the shop to see if our supplies are ready.”

I looked back and forth between Kolur and Frida, wondering what Frida was going to say that got Kolur all worked up. Kolur jerked his head at me. “Go on,” he said. “Frida’s done here, and I want to get to the water as soon as we can.”

Frida crossed her arms over her chest. “You best do what he says,” she told me. “Kolur never liked being disobeyed.”

I scowled at both of them but I knew she was right, even if I didn’t understand how. It still didn’t make sense that Kolur knew so powerful a witch, that we just happened to land on the island where she lived, three days’ sail from where we ought to be…

I didn’t like it.

The supply shop was a little store right at the point where the docks gave way to Beshel-by-the-Sea proper. The owner recognized me when I walked in, even though I’d never met him before. Kolur must have told him to be on the lookout for a Kjoran-Empire girl. Not a lot of us around.

“You Hanna?” he asked, straightening up from where he’d been wrapping packages in rough tunic fabric.

“I’m picking up Kolur Icebreak’s order.” I stood in the doorway, fidgeting, looking around. It wasn’t much of a store, just a room stacked with packages. I wondered what was in each of them. Goods from all over Skalir, probably.

“Certainly.” The shopkeeper turned to one of his stacks. It was a dull sight, his hunched-over back, and I knew it was likely the last non-Kjoran sight I’d see for a good long while. “Here you are.”

He dropped the packages on the counter. There were about ten of them, rather large, all wrapped in the same rough fabric. He read off the list – food mostly, dried fish and some sea vegetables, skins of fresh water. An awful lot for a three-day trip.

“Need any help carrying it to your boat?”

“No, thanks.” I scooped the packages up by their tie strings and staggered out of the shop, where I called on the south wind to help lighten my load. Those ten packages felt like two as I walked back down the docks, the wind bearing the bulk of their weight. So far, adventuring was pretty dull. About the same as being in Kjora, all things told.

I carted the supplies back to the
Penelope
and set them up in the storeroom. The sun was sinking pale gold into the horizon, and I figured Kolur was anxious to be out on the open sea. So it was a surprise, when I climbed up from down below, to find Frida still on board.

And a bigger surprise still that she was standing over the wooden map with a sextant.

“What’s going on?” I hissed at Kolur. “I thought she was finished repairing our boat.”

“She is.” Kolur stared straight ahead, out at the water. “I didn’t ask her just to repair the boat, though. She’s coming with us.”

“What?”

Frida straightened up from the map and brought a roll of parchment over to the helm and handed it to Kolur. I fell quiet and watched her the way I would the poisonous spiders that crept through our house. But Kolur just glanced over the parchment once, nodded, and then rolled it up and stuck it in his coat pocket.

“Route calculations,” Frida said to me.

“I know what they are.” My confusion spiraled out like some unwieldy plant. Why was Kolur bringing a powerful witch back with us? Why would she agree to leave her home so easily?

What did they expect to
happen
?

“How are you going to get back to Skalir?” I said.

“Excuse me?”

“We’re going home to Kjora. Don’t imagine we’ll ever come back – it was just a fluke that brought us here. So how are you going to get home?”

Frida glanced over at Kolur.

“Make sail!” he hollered out. “That means you, Hanna.”

“Are we coming back here?”

“That ain’t anything you need to worry about. Make the damn sail, girl.”

“I’m on this boat, so it is something I need to worry about.”

“I’m the captain, and I’m telling you it’s not. So make the sail.”

I glared at him, but I knew it was pointless; he was going to ignore me. So I did as he asked, dropping the sails down and tying them into place, my anger bubbling up under the surface. It was hard to concentrate. I kept glancing over at the helm, where Kolur and Frida stood side by side like old friends.

“Which direction for the wind?” I shouted at Kolur, my voice snappy with irritation.

“Oh, don’t worry, I can do it.” Frida strode to the center of the boat. My anger flared again. She lifted one hand. The direction of the wind shifted, filling up our sails and pushing us out away from the docks.

I gaped at her.

“You conduct through the air,” I said, my anger with Kolur vanishing. “But earlier–”

“I do.” Frida smiled. “I find simple water charms work best when repairing a ship. I can do both.”

Both? That was a rarity. And maybe it explained why she was willing to leave Skalir so easily. That sort of power didn’t make her typical of the north.

The wind gusted us out to sea. Frida walked back over to the map and looked over it again, nodding to herself. So she wasn’t just a witch, she was a wind-witch. Same as me.

Maybe that was why Kolur brought her on board: because I wasn’t good enough at magic, because I wasn’t a proper witch. Ass.

I walked to the stern and leaned against the railing as Beshel-by-the-Sea drew farther and farther away. Their lanterns were already switching on, pale blue like the lanterns back at home.
Home
. Maybe when we got back, I’d convince Mama to send me to the academy to apprentice as a witch the way I wanted. I’d tell her Kolur was a liar. She didn’t abide liars.

Frida materialized beside me, the wind blowing the loose strands of hair away from her face. A northern wind. She seemed to have an affinity with it, the way I had an affinity with the south. This fact irritated me for some reason.

“Have you left before?” I hoped I could get some information out of her if I came at it sideways.

“What?” She looked at me. “Oh, you mean Skalir. Yes, of course.”

I looked down at the dark ocean water and shivered. She was so nonchalant about crossing the waters. I’d always wanted to try it, of course, but I was my mother’s daughter, and that made me different from most island folk.

“I’m not from there, actually.” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and smiled mischievously. I wondered if I looked surprised. “I was born farther north.”

Farther north. I looked at her more closely. Her accent wasn’t the same as mine, of course, but now that I thought about it, it wasn’t the same as the Skalirins’, either. More lilting, like a lute. And her black hair, that was unusual around Beshel-by-the-Sea, too.

“My mama sailed far north once,” I said. “All the way to Jandanvar. She said it was full of wonders.”

“Wonders.” She nodded and looked back out at the land slowly diminishing into the sea. “Yes, I suppose you could call them that. But it’s dangerous there, too. The Mists are closer, the cold is crueler. The people are further from human than in the rest of the world.” She let out a long sigh. “I much prefer it here.”

It rubbed me raw that Kolur had brought another wind-witch aboard, especially one who kept her power close by. But at the same time, I wanted to ask her about the north, about Jandanvar, about all those wonders Papa never expanded upon.

Kolur called her over to the helm, claiming he needed her advice. He didn’t call me. So I stayed put, long past the moment Beshel-by-the-Sea vanished into the darkness, until all that surrounded us was water.

The next day, the ocean was as calm and smooth as glass, which meant there wasn’t anything to do. Kolur handled the wheel and Frida tended to the wind and the sails, and that pretty much took care of all the morning chores aboard the
Penelope
. Under normal circumstances, I would have appreciated the chance to laze about on deck, maybe practice my magic. But every time I tried, I’d start dwelling on all of Kolur’s and Frida’s secrets. The fact that I’d been so neatly removed from any duties aboard the ship didn’t help.

Midmorning, I gathered up the nets, preparing to cast them out into the sea.

“Girl!” Kolur barked. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re a fishing boat, aren’t we?” I held up the nets. “Gonna do some fishing.”

Kolur glared at me. “We already got a catch.”

“Yeah, hardly anything. And it’ll be all dried out from the preservation charm by the time we get home.” I hooked the nets into place. “Might as well see what else we can find.”

Frida watched us from the bow. Kolur stared at me for a few minutes, then pushed one hand through his hair.

“Liable to be disappointed in these waters,” he muttered.

I pushed the nets into the sea. They fanned out and sank below the surface. Now I was back to where I started. Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Lunchtime came around and the nets still weren’t full. We ate up on deck despite the cold, huddled around a little heat charm that Frida had cast. I’d never seen anything like it before, a perfect glowing ball the same color as the summer sun. It radiated warmth for a few paces, but it never got too hot, the way a fire would. The really remarkable thing was that it didn’t seem to drain anything out of her. She’d fixed up the ship and she’d drawn down the wind and now she was heating the deck, too, and she didn’t seem pale or worn out or anything.

I didn’t know what to make of Frida. She was probably the most interesting person I’d ever met, and if she’d wandered into the village one afternoon, I bet I would have tried to be her best friend. But out here on the cold water, with all those looks between her and Kolur, and all those
secret
s, she left me nervous. Unsettled.

“That’s some pretty interesting magic,” I told her between bites of dried fish, trying to find out answers.

“Thank you.” She smiled. “It’s a northern charm. The winters are much longer up there.”

“Northern?” I frowned. “Is it Jandanvari?”

She laughed. Kolur shifted a little in his place and stared off at the horizon.

“There are places in the north besides Jandanvar,” she said.

I blushed. “I know. I just–” I tore angrily at a hunk of bread. “I was just curious.”

“No, this particular charm isn’t from Jandanvar.” She drew her knees up to her chest. “I can show you some Jandanvari spells, though, if you’d like–”

“No.” Kolur stood up and tossed his half-eaten fish back in the jar. “There’ll be none of that on this ship.”

“You’re no fun.” She winked at me, which I found startling. It made me feel like she and I were conspirators against Kolur.

“You’re too reckless.” Kolur stomped over to the wheel and whipped off the premade steering charm he’d bought from a wizard in the Kjoran capital. “Keep to the winds. What I brought you aboard for.”

I frowned. My control of the winds was enough to get us home. It wasn’t as if I’d never been aboard the
Penelope
before.

Frida laughed. “Is he always like that?”

Her question jerked me out of my thoughts. “Don’t you know?” I said. “I thought you were friends.”

“Oh, but that was a long time ago. He had a sense of humor then.”

“How long ago?”

“Too long to count.” She laughed. “We did have our adventures, though.”

I looked over at Kolur. It was like I’d never seen him before. I’d always assumed he’d lived in Kjora his whole life, like everyone else in the village. He was a fisherman. Fishermen didn’t have adventures. That was the whole problem with them.

Frida stood up and stretched. The wind swirled around her, its magic glinting in the sun. Back at home in the village, I would dream about looking like that, a proud wind-witch who had seen the world. It was one of my favorite daydreams this past winter, when the night crept in early on and the snow froze around our little cottage. Henrik would be playing by the fire, making nonsense noises to himself, and Mama would be singing pirate songs, and Papa would be repairing his fishing nets, and I’d look at all of them and know I wanted something more to my life. And so I thought about my future.

But looking at Frida didn’t feel like looking at my future. It just made that future seem even farther away. Her life wasn’t going to be mine; my life was going to be more like Kolur’s, a bit of adventure in the past and nothing more. That’s what comes from growing up in the north. Your life is bound by the rocks and the cold and the sea.

It was depressing.

I gathered up the leftovers from lunch and put them back in the food stores down below. Then I checked on the nets. They weren’t full yet, but I was so bored, I pulled them up anyway. The catch wasn’t
too
bad – mostly seaweed, although a few ling flopped among the ropes. I sorted them out and cast a new preservation charm over them. Kolur watched me, but he didn’t say anything.

Night fell. We ate another meal by the light of the heat charm. I went down below and fell asleep.

The next day was the exact same. Still no chores for me to do, so I cast out the nets again. This time, I left them floating for longer. The wind gusted and swelled, ruffling my hair so badly, I finally combed it into two thick braids.

The wind was a true wind, not anything that Frida had manufactured, and it smelled sweet, the way the Abelas had back in Beshel-by-the-Sea. I stood up at the bow and let the wind blow over me, my eyes closed, feeling for the enchantment veining through the air. This was an old wizard’s trick, meant to bring you more in tune with the world’s magic. I tried to practice it as often as I could.

But today, I couldn’t feel the magic, not exactly – or rather, I did feel it, but it seemed different, more of a presence than magic usually is. Like a predatory animal watching you from the shadows of a tree.

I didn’t like it.

I opened my eyes and pulled myself back into my own head. The wind swept around me, although it no longer smelled of flowers. Maybe we were too far north. Maybe it was the Mists–

I shivered. No. The presence hadn’t felt frightening; it hadn’t felt dangerous. It was just
there
.

“Kolur,” I called out, turning around to face him. “How long till we get back to Kjora?”

“You know better than to ask me that.” True enough – never asking him if he were home yet was one of the conditions he’d set forth when he brought me on as his apprentice.

“Yeah, but there’s nothing to do. You’re not interested in fishing, and Frida calls down the wind and fixes the sails before I can–”

“Three days ago, you were griping about having to work. Now you’re griping about not having to work.”

I scowled at him. “I’m still trapped on your boat.”

“That’s because you’re my apprentice,” he said. “Now go on. Stop bothering me.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Cause you ain’t supposed to ask it. Go check your nets.”

I knew I’d lost, but I stalked over to the helm to see if I could glare an answer out of him. Kolur didn’t even acknowledge I was there. As far as I could tell, he thought the only thing that existed in the whole world was the
Penelope
and the vast shining expanse of the sea.

Eventually, boredom got the best of me in my standoff. I went back to my nets.

Still not full, even though I’d left them out for a couple of hours longer. I sighed and hauled them in. Less seaweed this time, but there was a hunk of glacier ice. I frowned. There weren’t any glaciers this far south, and the water was too warm this time of year for the ice to have floated down–

And then I saw something else, something that froze all the air out of my body.

A capelin, long and thin and gasping for air on the deck. I knelt down in the tangle of nets, not noticing the cold seawater soaking through my trousers. I scooped the capelin up in my hands. It slapped against my gloves, leaving a scatter of scales in its wake.

You couldn’t catch capelin in our waters. They were northern fish, and they never came this far south. Skalir was farther north than Kjora, certainly, but we should be firmly in Kjoran waters by now, and this fish, this narrow, gasping fish, should not be here.

With a shout, I flung it back into the nets. Tears prickled at my eyes.

We weren’t going south to Kjora.

We were going north.

“Kolur!” I screamed. “What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

My voice bounced off the cold. The air vibrated. Over at the navigation table, Frida set down her sextant. Kolur kept staring at the horizon.

“Kolur!” I scooped up the capelin and raced over to the helm. He looked at me, looked at the fish.

“What is this?” I hissed, shaking it at him.

“It appears to be a capelin.”

I hurled the fish back out into the water. “It doesn’t swim this far south. Which means we aren’t south at all, doesn’t it?”

Kolur fell silent and my anger coursed through me. Not just anger, though – fear, too, a little prickle of it. I’d trusted him. Mama had trusted him. And now he had spirited me away. Even if I had always wanted to go on an adventure, I wanted to do it on my terms. Not Kolur’s.

“Frida!” he called out. “Do you think you could take the wheel? Don’t like using the steering charm unless I absolutely have to.”

A pause. The
Penelope
rocked against the waves. That cold, sweet-scented wind ruffled my hair.

“Of course,” she finally said, and she set down her sextant and walked over to the helm. I recoiled from her when she passed, no longer admiring her magic but fearing it, fearing what she might be capable of.

She didn’t do anything except take the wheel from Kolur, who turned to me, not looking the least bit guilty.

“I suppose we should talk,” he said.

“Talk?” I shrieked. “
Talk
? What are you doing to me?”

“Nothing.” He walked over to the port railing and leaned against it, the wind pushing his hair away from his eyes. I joined him, my whole body shaking, and not from the cold.

“I’m not doing anything to you.” He glanced over at me. He looked older than usual, like the last few days had drained the life out of him. “You are right, though; we’re not sailing back to Kjora.”

It was a strange relief to hear him admit it. I slumped against the railing and wrapped my arms around my chest. “So, where are we going?”

“North.” Kolur squinted into the sun.

“Well, that’s obvious.
Why
are we going north?”

“Just an errand I have to take care of.”

“An errand? An
errand
?” I threw my hands up in the air in frustration. “You couldn’t have told me about it?” Then I peered at him, considering. “Why’d you bring me, anyway? You clearly don’t need me.”

Kolur hesitated.

“Well?” I snapped. “I know it’s not just because you thought I’d have a good time. You’re the most unadventurous person I’ve ever met.” Even though I wasn’t so certain of that now.

Kolur let out a deep breath. “I didn’t know about it until after we had made sail. I had to make a quick decision, and I chose to bring you.”

I stared at him. “The bones,” I said, remembering the way they had scattered across the deck, foretelling times of strife and strangers coming to town. “I knew what I saw.”

Kolur looked away from me.

“And you lied to me. You said they spelled out the same thing both times.”

“I know what I said.” He ran a hand over his wind-tangled hair. “I didn’t handle it as well as I should have.”

“You think?”

He gave me a dark look. “Well, you’re always saying you wanted an adventure.”

“You still lied to me.” I pointed back at Frida. “Besides, you don’t even need me. That’s why she’s here, isn’t it? ‘Cause you need someone trained to do magic? Real magic?”

Kolur gave me a long look and didn’t answer.

“Sea and sky, why didn’t you just say from the beginning–”

“It’s difficult to explain.” He gave me a weak half smile. “If I’d turned around to take you home, I’d never have made it. But I swear I’ll have you back home in only a few weeks’ time.”

“A few weeks?” My chest tightened. “Mama will be worried sick. Papa, too – they’ll come looking for me.”

“I sent word that we were delayed.”

“You
what
?”
The whole world spun around. Kolur kept staring at me, as unperturbed as if we were arguing about the fishing schedule or repairs to the boat. “You told
them
but you didn’t tell me?”

“I had my reasons,” he said quietly.

I tore away from him, shaking with fury. Frida looked at us from her place at the wheel, the wind tossing her braid around. Everything was falling into place. The extra supplies. Frida joining us on the trip. Kolur’s strangeness during the storm–

“You caused this.” I whirled around to face him. “You made all this happen. I don’t know how, but you – you’re planning something.”

He didn’t deny it.

My eyes were heavy, and my face was hot. I raced over to the stairs and climbed down below. As soon as I was off the deck, the tears spilled out. I thought about Mama receiving word that I’d be home in a few weeks. It was from Kolur; she wouldn’t think anything of it.

He’d betrayed me. He’d betrayed
her
.

I slammed the door to my cabin and shoved the trunk of old sails up against it. I hoped that would be enough to hold him – I hoped he wouldn’t get Frida to use magic. Then I dug through my stack of clothes until I found that charm I’d bought in Beshel-by-the-Sea. I’d taken it off when I’d boarded the boat, thinking I was safe.

I slipped on the charm, and its thin protective spell rippled through me. I collapsed down on the bed and took deep breaths as tears dripped down the side of my face.

I didn’t know if the bracelet would keep me safe from Frida’s magic. It certainly wouldn’t take me home, where Papa could soothe me the way he had once when I was a little girl, telling me that all liars are punished by the ancestors. But it was better than nothing. Even so, I lay there weeping, with no idea what to do next.