Chapter 9: The Sea of Fire
Journal of Kalen Avanir
TE 6050, Orhan 5, day 54
Aboard the Caravel ‘Naristral’
Elerik the steward has brought us breakfast, including, I am delighted to say, coffee. It is stronger than I am used to, but not bitter. I wonder if this is the kind they prefer in Sel-kai; I should ask Elerik next time I see him.
We spent most of yesterday in the cabin or just wandering the deck. Jad and I played three games of Orhan and Charôn, though he gets frustrated with himself when he loses. I am glad I brought several books and my quindera, as there is little else to do. This evening we have been asked to dine in the Captain’s cabin with some of the other passengers. While as usual I have mixed emotions about a social event with strangers, Jad is looking forward to it.
We said farewell to the coast of Craedinor just after dawn this morning and struck out into the open sea. Our navigator was on deck for a short period, announcing that the day would turn overcast and the sea slightly more rough, but still relatively calm. He reported that we were on schedule to arrive off the coast of Aranmor tomorrow morning. After talking to the Captain, I have sketched out our planned route on a map I bought in Lethys. It will be interesting to see how closely we keep to it. I hope that Ruuth the herbalist will be at our dinner; she seemed to know a lot about Aranmor, and I would be interested in learning more regarding this strange island.
“What do you see with your magical Eye, Iæn Shiin?” The tall Dyar woman wandered aimlessly about the circular chamber. She felt a vague discomfort in this large room with its whitewashed walls and bright hangings. And the blinding sunlight streaming in through every window did nothing to calm her. Oan Lyak, the ‘Dreaded Assassin’ of the Jerak Ahrenreth, did not like bright daylight. She much preferred shadows and darkness. Even indoors, in her diaphanous caftan, she felt the solar heat like a weight upon the city. And this was winter in Ardania! Her home in Vour was nearly on Kulthea’s equator but not nearly as hot and arid as this place.
Seated in an ornate chair in the center of the sparsely furnished room, hands resting lightly on his knees, was the Linær Elf known as Iæn Shiin. His title in the same order as Oan Lyak meant ‘Crystalline Death;’ hardly less fearsome a moniker than the assassin’s. His real name — Darí Holvir — he had not used since he was a Loremaster many centuries ago. He was Iæn Shiin now, and he lived in a different kind of darkness, that of betrayal.
A skullcap of criss-crossing golden metal bands was on his blond head; from the front of it projected a delicate apparatus of tiny metal levers and lenses. This was an artifact of the Order of the Eye, an elite school of Seers who once served the Emperors of Emer. That empire was long gone and Emer was now a politically fractured continent, but some of these ancient magical devices survived.
Behind the glass lenses, Iæn Shiin’s eyes seemed unfocused and distorted. But the Seer was in fact looking at places and beings far away, beyond the freshly painted walls of Ardania.
“Patience, my dear. The Eyes can sometimes be a bit tricky to use; adjustments must be precise…” As he spoke — his voice surprisingly rough for an Iylar — the golden-haired elf reached up with one hand and twisted a miniscule screw, causing a lens to move a fraction further out from his eye. “Ah, yes something is coming into focus.”
Lyak quickly put down the trinket she had been idly examining and rushed to kneel by the Seer. “Is it Ondoval? Can you pierce the veils around the Ahrentorg?” She clutched at the chair-arm, her nails digging into the damask upholstery.
The Seer’s generous lips stretched into a smile. “I am past the Barrier Mountains and approaching the citadel.” Iæn Shiin’s smile began to lessen then. “It appears that our former associate has been busy. The Ahrentorg is quite a bit larger than when I was last there.”
The Assassin’s delicate raven brows furrowed. “Why would Ondoval need a larger fortress?” Who on Kulthea is a threat to him — especially a military threat?”
“Who indeed…” The Seer replied absently, once again adjusting the fragile mechanism. “I see a massive fortification, huge ramparts, many hundreds of torches on the walls, countless soldiers on watch. Watching for what, I cannot guess. It grows darker; Ondoval has set powerful wards against magical surveillance.” A few moments later, he sat back with a sigh and gingerly removed the headset, revealing the rest of his handsome — almost pretty — face. “I cannot see more today.”
“Still, this is troubling news. Perhaps the Elder Mind is right: Ondoval could be a danger if conquest is in his plans.”
“One thing is certain,” The tall Linær rose and carried the lens device to a table, where he placed it in a small velvet-lined chest. “He has constructed a citadel unassailable by any military force I know of. Whether his he is merely paranoid, or he schemes to rule other lands by force remains to be seen.”
“He remains bound to the Ahrenreth, as long as he is tapping into the power of the crystal.” The Assassin’s statement was half a question: uncertainty crept into her voice even as she uttered it.
“A splinter of the great Ahrenreth crystal is still at the Ahrentorg, so it remains one of the eight Secrets and bound to the other citadels, but I do not know if he depends on it for any Essænce sustenance. If he truly has the Shadowstone, even the power of the Crystal pales by comparison.” Iaen Shiin turned away from the table that held the artifact and its case, then casually leaned back against it. “But there are other matters I would like to discuss, just you and I.”
“Such as…?” The Assassin approached the Seer, eyebrows upraised.
“Such as the Elder Mind’s motives in calling that meeting with only half the order. And the direction the Circle should be taking in this situation.
Oan Lyak ran her fingers playfully through the Seer’s short-cropped hair. “We indeed have more to discuss, but could it not wait a bit? This damned sun makes me weary of politics.”
“Perhaps a glass of wine and a refreshing dip in the palace baths? They are fed by cool underground springs and quite invigorating… and private.” Iæn Shiin raised an eyebrow and smiled just slightly.
The Dyar woman strode away from the Seer, then turned and slid her hands down from her ribs, over her slender waist and down to her hips, making her voluptuous figure obvious beneath the gauzy fabric of the gown. “An excellent suggestion. I’m sure that after a swim I will feel more like discussing the tedious machinations of our associates.”
“As always, lady, you have an art for putting things into perspective.” The Seer grinned, yet his eyes remained hard and emotionless.
Jad’s full attention was centered on his image in the mirror while he tried to get a comb through his blond mop of hair. “You know, I wish we still had some of that hair soap we got back in Gryphon College, that was fantastic. Do you remember that soap?”
“How could I forget? You still talk about it years after we ran out.” The Marquess rolled his eyes.
“Now I have these knots, and my hair stands up the more I try to comb it. Kieron’s Cups! I give up! Cut it all off!” The squire slammed his comb down onto the dresser.
“You look fine.” Kalen assured him. Now let’s get going or we’ll be late for dinner. I don’t want to make a scene.”
The door to the captain’s cabin was open, and by the sounds of laughter and conversation coming from within, several people had already arrived. Kalen and Jad stepped from the dim corridor into the brightly lit room and were immediately greeted by Elerik the cabin boy.
“Good evening, sirs,” He said in passable Shay as he bowed. “Would you care for wine?”
“Yes, thank you.” Kalen nodded then surveyed the room. Captain N’tagen appeared to be recounting some adventure for the entertainment of the young couple from Sel-kai. Also present were Ruuth, Lukas and his tutor. The Viscount and the herbalist were having a quiet conversation while Yandar Vit lounged on a long divan that ran along the back of the cabin. The tutor stared out the window, ignoring the others in the room.
After being given their wine, Kalen and Jad joined Lukas and Ruuth.
“Look who’s come out of their cabin!” Lukas exclaimed through his winning smile. When they were closer he added in a lower voice and a smirk, “What have you two been up to all day in there?”
Kalen was speechless; worse, he felt himself blushing at the innuendo.
Jad was not so easily embarrassed, however. “Oh, Kalen and I always find ways to entertain each other, no matter where we are.” He replied, leering.
But Lukas was not put off, in fact he seemed to enjoy the retort. “I could tell you two were very close. Unfortunately all I have is my stuffy old tutor to keep me company on this trip, and he just keeps nagging me to study.”
“I’m sure he just wants to be sure you have a good education.” Ruuth said diplomatically — though Kalen noticed that she shot the tutor a critical look, as if she doubted her own words.
“Say…” Jad gestured with his glass towards the herbalist, “I don’t suppose you know where I can get some special soap for my hair in Sel-kai? I had some a few years ago that was wonderful, it didn’t make my hair stand up and stick to the comb, and it took the knots out.”
Ruuth smiled indulgently at the youth. “I’m afraid that I grow and sell healing and medicinal herbs, which are somewhat of a different thing. However, I do know what you are referring to, and I think I can recommend an apothecary who has something you’d like. Where did you get the soap that you liked before?”
“Well…” Jad hesitated. “We were guests at a school, Gryphon College, actually…”
The instant Jad uttered the name a chill shook Kalen’s body. At the same time, the other conversation in the room faltered, and Lukas’ smile faded. Kalen knew, somehow, that Gryphon College should not have been spoken of here. But why? Then he felt something else… cold again but different, as if something icy… wet…was touching him… along the base of his neck, behind his ears… clammy, slimy fingers seeking something…
Gryphon College… where is it?
He tried to think of something else, but found himself picturing the road to the College, the pass, and the flying things… He fought to visualize other places but it was as if his thoughts were being controlled! Then he felt a burning on his chest, a heat rushing through his veins… blood pounding at his temples. The cold fingers recoiled as if scorched by the heat.
“Kalen!”
The Marquees blinked through a red haze. Leaning over him, heads almost touching, were Jad and Lukas, both faces wearing expressions of concern. He realized he was sitting on the end of the divan.
“Are you alright?” Jad was gripping Kalen’s shoulder and forearm almost painfully.
“What happened?”
“You were standing there, then suddenly you started to collapse, as if you were fainting.”
Lukas offered Kalen his wine glass back. “We were calling your name but you didn’t answer. It was as if you couldn’t see or hear us.”
“I don’t remember what happened.” Kalen lied. “Maybe I’m still not accustomed to the ship’s rocking.” He tried to smile.
“You need to eat something.” Jad suggested, not-too-subtly edging Lukas away.
“Yes, I’ll be all right in a minute I think.”
Yandar Vit stepped up behind the others. “I have some knowledge of healing. If you would like, I could take a look at him.”
Jad twisted around and his eyes narrowed as he regarded Vit. “My cousin will be fine, just a little seasickness. But thank you all the same.” He made a point of positioning himself between the tutor and Kalen.
Apparently oblivious to all this activity, the steward rang a hand bell. “Dinner is served.”
Defying the seating assignment cards on the chairs, Jad planted himself next to his cousin, pulling his chair up close to Kalen. “Warn me if you feel the least bit faint and we’ll go.” He whispered.
“I’m all right now, really.”
Jad looked unconvinced.
Nevertheless, the rest of the evening was without incident. Kalen found it impossible not to like Lukas, but he also felt a little envious of the handsome young Viscount and his seemingly effortless, relaxed poise. Lukas was self-confident without appearing arrogant, and he was charming in a manner that disarmed even the usually wary Marquess. Kalen found himself attracted to the Viscount Ridgeston and at the same time jealous every time that Lukas favored Jad with even a smiling glance.
The couple from Sel-kai said little, seemingly entranced with each other as only newlyweds could be. Yandar Vit also hardly said a word, and in fact seemed bored with the entire event. Ruuth and Jad enjoyed talking about Sel-kai: he was intensely curious about the huge trade center and was making plans to explore all of it; she was a fount of information about the city, its history, points of interest, and politics. In fact, as she was eager to bring up, there seemed to be some controversy surrounding the current elected prince’s policy regarding trade with an Elven nation to the southeast…
The Naristral sailed through the calm seas of the Nea Bay under an overcast night sky.
A furlong aft and starboard of the caravel, the rippling waters began to churn and a jagged ridge surged up to split the surface. If the Naristral’s lookout or steersman had seen it, they would have thought it was a whale with a horny spine or some similar great sea beast coming to the surface for a breath of air. But rather than sink again, the spine rose higher, cleaving the waters and moving at a steady clip. A faint bluish glow just beneath the foam suggested that this mysterious creature possessed a bioluminous quality that was unusual but not unheard-of in Kulthea’s sea beasts.
But both Naristral crewmen had their attention focused ahead of the ship, and neither noticed this strange disturbance.
Perhaps a hundred feet behind the rising spiked ridge of this thing that now paced the Naristral, a fin like a great shark’s tail now rose high enough to slice the waters. At this point an astute observer might note the rigidity of these protrusions: they did not waver or turn like the propelling fins of any whale or serpent. They were immobile in relation to each other, and now held a steady level in the water. A sharp-eyed Elf aboard the Naristral might be able to make out the shadowy streamlined body just beneath the surface that connected these fins, and if he looked closely, he might notice rows of tiny bumps on the surfaces, not unlike ranks of rivets. And as the sickle of Orhan peeked through a break in the clouds to brighten that cloudy night, he might detect a metallic glint to this ‘creature’ before it eased back beneath the gentle swells, the blue glow swallowed in the wine-dark sea.
A hulking, raven-haired man knelt clumsily before Ulya Shek. “We have found the target ship, Mistress.”
The female Dragonlord, in human form of course as she curled on the plush sofa in her softly lit chamber, favored her ship’s captain with an indulgent smile. “Excellent, Captain Batanas. Keep them in range, but avoid allowing the Silverfish to be seen. Alert me if any other ships approach. You may go.”
The captain bowed and hurried out, securing a reinforced steel door behind him, which closed with a dull thump.
Ulya Shek rose and stretched. Moving with an almost serpentine grace, she approached a large round window that protruded dome-like out of the room’s wall. Beyond the glass was only blackness. We have been asked by my brother Voriig to watch this ship, and so we will do it. She peered through the window into the dark seawater outside, seeing and sensing things in the murk that no human or Elf could. The Black Dragon idly ran her fingers over the riveted iron ring securing the window to the hull of her submarine boat, pondering the motives of her brethren.
Kalen awoke to the sound of the ship’s bell chiming an alert. Not a panicked alarm as might be rung on the sighting of pirates or a sudden storm or other peril, but the four measured clangs calling all hands to man the sails and prepare for a change of rig or similar adjustment. In this case the Marquess suspected that the bell was to prepare the ship for passage around the isle of Aranmor – and the boiling seas which surrounded it. Noting the first predawn light filtering into the aft windows of the cabin, Kalen felt his suspicion confirmed: they were expected to be approaching Aranmor at about sunrise. But that had been only an estimate; since the previous morning when they passed Craedinor, they were out of sight of land. Sailing under the guidance of their Navigator in open water, exact scheduling was difficult. Though not for Tar-esiir, it would seem.
After pulling on breeches, boots and a tunic and giving his squire a gentle shake (for which he was rewarded with a defiant grunt as Jad buried himself deeper under his blankets), Kalen grabbed his cloak and stumbled out on deck and into the chilly morning. The Navigator was standing at the prow of the ship, long cloak furling lazily around him. The crew scrambled hither and yon at the command of the steersman, but Tar-esiir seemed to be the only passenger on deck. The Marquess made his way forward, a little uncertain on his feet.
Though it was cloudy overhead, the sky in the east was clear. Kalen stood at the rail a few feet from the immobile Navigator. It was not long before the sun’s first rays shot across the quiet sea, burnishing all the Naristral’s aft surfaces with a bright orange glow. Far ahead and slightly to port, he could see what looked like a distant island partially shrouded in a colorless haze.
Tar-esiir glanced over at him, silver hoop earrings glimmering in the sunlight. “Ah, someone for whom the Sea of Fire is a novel sight?” He smiled, and Kalen realized that the Navigator was not mocking him, but might actually be happy to see someone for whom this phenomenon was new and interesting.
“I have never been outside of Rhakhaan, so this entire sea voyage is new to me.” Kalen confessed.
“So I understand.” Tar-esiir regarded him with an appraising look. “The boiling seas are an interesting phenomenon, and perilous for the unwary or foolish, but not unique on Kulthea. At least as dangerous are the Essænce disruptions around the island… and the pirates based on Plasidar beyond.”
“I thought they were just a legend.”
“They are quite real, led by a Dyar Elf warlord. And speaking of Dyari...” The Navigator hesitated.
“What of them?” Kalen prodded.
Tar-esiir sighed. “It is not the habit of Navigators to meddle in the private affairs of their passengers, but I feel the need to speak up in this case. I would take care to avoid Yandar Vit if I were you, and make sure the rest of your party does the same.” To emphasize his admonition, he gave Kalen a sharp glance.
“Why do you say that? And what makes you think Vit is even Dyar?”
“I cannot elaborate.” Tar-esiir said shortly, peering forward into the gloom. “You may take or leave the counsel as it stands. I have already said more than I should on the topic.”
The young nobleman pondered this unexpected advice. It was not as if he didn’t already dislike the tutor, though it was gratifying to have his opinion validated by someone like a Navigator. Kalen frequently had a ‘feeling’ about someone one way or the other the instant he met them, though it was never more than a visceral reaction, something he could not explain or back up with any sort of evidence. Because of this he was reluctant to trust this instinct most of the time. But this time at least he was apparently right.
As Kalen returned to his vigil, he noticed how calm the sea was around them. The waves seemed to be more choppy just a furlong away, yet the ship never met that rougher water. He realized that it was the Navigator’s magic taming the sea around them in an ever-moving circle. He wondered if Tar-esiir could subdue a storm; that ability seemed like it would be beyond any magician’s power.
As the sun rose behind them, Kalen came to realize that what he thought was an island ahead was actually a great wall of steam that dispersed a few dozen feet above the ocean surface. Great plumes rolled up from the water in endless waves as if from huge boiling kettles. And as they neared this billowing perimeter, he saw how the sea churned and foamed beneath the steam. “How close will we get?” He asked quietly.
“We are a few miles away still, and we will keep well clear of the Sea of Fire, but we will continue to bear west for a bit. You should have a view of Mount Kadæna very soon.”
The steaming waters grew closer, and indeed Kalen saw a dark conical shape looming behind the misty barrier. A red glow emanated from the very summit.
“So where are we?”
Kalen was startled out of his sightseeing by Jad’s sudden appearance at his side. The squire’s hair was a bird’s nest and he squinted in the morning sun. He tugged his cloak tighter about his shoulders.
“You’re just in time!” Kalen nudged him playfully. “We’re coming up on the Sea of Fire.” He was pleased that Jad had come up to join him, even if his cousin looked less than thrilled to be on deck this early.
“If it were not for the artificial wind at our backs, you would be feeling the heat from the boiling waters by now.” The Navigator volunteered.
They all watched in silence for a while longer, and Kalen was even beginning to see the true coastline a few miles inside the boiling perimeter, when Tar-esiir straightened his back and gripped the railing. “I think this is close enough.” The Navigator waved his arm out in front of himself in a sweeping gesture, then called out: “Steersman! Ease to Starboard!”
Kalen looked over his shoulder to see the man at the wheel slowly crank the great spoked ring around once, then again. A gentle but persistent wind kept the sails full as they began to veer to the right: north and past the boiling sea. The ship creaked and moaned, apparently straining against a current. The Marquess watched in fascination as they rounded the island, a few isolated areas of boiling water less than a mile away. And to the south, he could now clearly sea a sandy coast, lush greenery, and behind it a steep slope up to the volcanic cone that was Mount Kadæna, named after an ancient goddess of the darkness.
The ship shuddered abruptly, and both Kalen and Jad grabbed the balustrade to keep their balance. Crewmen called out from the rigging in alarm.
“There is a strong undertow drawing us south.” Tar-esiir frowned, then called back to the steersman “More rudder to starboard!” Then the Navigator raised his hands, and Kalen saw a bluish glow emanate from them, even as the Compass gem burst into a prismatic brilliance. “Tack the sails one-half quin to starboard!”
The crew began adjusting the sails so they angled slightly to the right. At the same time Kalen could feel the wind starting to shift and grow stronger under the control of the Navigator, pushing the ship more to the north.
“Look!” Jad pointed to the starboard side. The water was no longer so calm there, with ever-growing waves breaking against the ship’s hull. Looking to port, Kalen saw whirlpools forming near them. Water was being drawn down to the depths as the deep water was heated and forced to the surface as steam, he deduced.
Whatever the cause, despite the Navigator’s efforts they were being pulled south, towards the Sea of Fire.
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