Vengeance of the Pirate Queen(50)

Throwing caution to the wind, I step fully into the firepit, stand atop the crackling logs, and hold back a sob.

I can’t feel it. Not the cold or the heat or anything in between.

What. Did. He. Do. To. Me?

I fall to my knees, grab on to a fiery white coal with my bare hand, squeeze it within my fist, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

But the fire doesn’t burn my skin. The smoke doesn’t clog my lungs. The heat doesn’t sting my eyes.

Instead the fire sizzles and sputters under the water melting off my skin and clothing. There is no pain. No consequence.

This isn’t right.

I catch movement out of the corner of my vision, and I duck down farther into the fire. A woman approaches the tent I noticed earlier with a young boy at her side.

Kearan. I still need to save Kearan. I can’t break down now.

She disappears inside the tent, and I remove myself from the fire, patting out my clothing in the few places that have caught.

Now I have a smell that follows me, surely, but at least I don’t make a sound when I move anymore. I creep closer to that tent, waiting until the guards aren’t looking before placing myself exactly at the back. I lower myself onto the dark ground, making myself as small as possible.

Here I pause and listen.

A woman says something in that native tongue. My mind translates the words for me, but the boy, who can’t be more than ten, translates them for Kearan.

“Let’s see if you are prepared to talk now that you’ve had a chance to calm your temper.” I can only imagine the look she must be giving him. “I am Dynkinar, a Speaker for our people. This is Zarian, my translator. What are you called?”

“I’m not feeling especially chatty after you sank our ship and killed my captain. Just run me through and be done with it.”

At first, I feel comforted to hear Kearan’s voice, but he thinks me dead, and that, inexplicably, makes me sad.

The boy translates Kearan’s words back to Dynkinar.

“There is still a chance you may live,” he says after Dynkinar speaks again. “There is a chance the rest of your crew might live, but first you will answer my questions. If I like what I hear, perhaps we can talk of peace. Now, let’s try this again. I am Dynkinar, a Speaker for our people. Who are you?”

I can sense Kearan’s hesitation. He does not trust these people, but he also wants to keep the rest of the crew safe.

Finally, he says, “I am Kearan, sailing master of the former vessel, Vengeance. What is a Speaker? That like a queen?”

“No, a Speaker is one whose words hold power. One who must be listened to. There are three of us among the Drifta, but you were captured while my men were on watch, so here we are. Now, that’s enough questions from you. You will answer mine now. Tell me why you have woken the King of the Undersea before I order my people to have you flayed alive.”





Chapter 14





KING OF THE UNDERSEA?

Is that what they call Threydan?

I wish I could be the one inside that tent to answer and ask questions, but I’m stuck listening to wherever Kearan takes the conversation.

“I know nothing about an undersea king,” Kearan says. “We were sent here to find a missing ship and crew. To rescue the survivors and bring them home. Instead, we lost our ship, and we’re stranded in this frozen wilderness.”

“Why did the first ship come?” Zarian asks on behalf of Dynkinar. It’s clear that the Speaker knows about our first crew. If she hadn’t dealt with them personally, someone she knows reported to her of their existence. She must know what became of them.

“To explore unknown waters. To discover more of the world.”

Dynkinar humphs. “You mean to conquer. To steal. To take.”

“I do not know.” Kearan pauses a moment before saying, “My people are divided. The women we were sent to find were spies on the ship that traveled this way. Our queen likes to keep eyes on her enemies. When the spies did not return, she sent us to find them.”

“Then why, Kearan, are you not looking for your lost crew? Why instead are you waking beings that are better left sleeping?”

“We assumed you held our friends captive. We spotted some of your men guarding what we assumed was a prison, so we searched it for the missing crew.”

There is a pause so long, I wonder if I’ve missed Dynkinar leaving the tent.

Then Kearan barks out, “Why did you attack us, and what did you do to the crew who arrived before we did?”

A valid question.

“Our people were charged long ago with protecting the cursed tomb. We were ordered to kill anyone who came to this land, for no one must wake the King of the Undersea.”

“Who charged you with this task? Who is he?”

There is a shifting in the tent, as though Dynkinar is making herself more comfortable. “A thousand years ago, our ancestors were once like your people: explorers looking to discover more of the world. A crew landed here and found a slechian artifact.”

It takes me some time to translate slechian, but I find the word before Zarian translates it for Kearan.

Siren.

“They called it the panaceum, and it was not long before they realized how special it was. It granted the possessor long life, made them impervious to afflictions of the flesh. Rendered them essentially unkillable. It could heal any sickness, cure any wound.