“I thought to inquire as to your well-being,” he said.
She blinked at him, and then her eyes began to well with moisture. She abruptly slammed the door. Rezkin stood there confused. Was she angry with him for checking on her? He started to go when the door opened again.
“Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” she said. “I mean, I did, but I shouldn’t have. Um, is everything okay?”
Rezkin decided not to attempt to figure her out and instead focused on her question. “No, actually. Malcius and Yserria are missing.”
“What!” she shouted as her face drained of color.
He held up a hand, hoping to forestall her panic. “I have reason to believe they will reach shore safely, but we do not know where. We must continue to Ferélle and let them find their own way for now.”
Her next expression was suffused with anger, and Rezkin was fascinated with how quickly a person could pass from one emotion to the next. “You can’t leave them! They’re all alone—out in the ocean! They don’t have any supplies, and they’ll be lost. We must go after them!”
He shook his head. “We cannot, Frisha. The ship is badly damaged. We must get to port where we can make repairs. Malcius and Yserria were swept by the current in the other direction.”
“How do you know where they are? How do you know they’ll reach land?” she said with tears streaming down her face.
“I cannot explain right now, but I do.”
“That isn’t good enough, Rezkin. Secrets! Always more secrets. I’ve already lost Palis, and who knows about my parents and Uncle Marcum and Aunt Adelina and Uncle Simeon and Aunt Pethela. They could all be dead. I can’t lose Malcius, too!”
“Connovan said he got Marcum and—”
“Connovan? You trust Connovan now? You don’t know that he’s telling the truth.”
Rezkin glanced down the short corridor and lowered his voice. “I used the mage relay in Lon Lerésh to check with some of my people. I do not have any information on your parents yet, but the Jebais and Marcums are together, and they are safe for now.”
“Your people. What people are those?” She stepped forward, poked a finger at his chest, and hissed, “Thieves and murderers? Malcius and Yserria are good people, and you will leave them to die in the sea.” The door slammed in his face a second time, and Rezkin was left wondering as to the benefits of checking on her.
Chapter 14
Malcius awoke to his head being torn apart. It throbbed as the ripping subsided. He shivered, his body frozen, yet his skin felt hot. He tensed as the ripping attacked again and then gasped as ice slithered over his flesh. Then, he began sputtering, ejecting the tiny shards of glass that had filled his throat and dried his mouth as they crunched between his teeth. Crusty flakes stuck to his lashes as he peeled his eyes open. Above him was nothing but blue. The ripping returned, and he braced himself. Cold water sloshed over his chest and up his nose, forcing him to roll over as he coughed into the sand. He swallowed hard, hoping to keep from losing whatever might still be lurking in the empty chamber that was his stomach. His fingers gripped the sand, becoming tangled in red seaweed.
“Ow! Let go of my hair,” croaked a feminine voice.
Malcius blinked several times before finally recognizing the image in the sand. “Yserria. Are you well?” At least, that was what he tried to say, but it came out sounding like rocks sliding down a ravine.
“I-I am not sure,” she said. “Everything hurts.”
Yserria sat up and surveyed their surroundings as Malcius examined her for injury. Her long, strawberry hair had come free of its usual braid and was caked in sand. She had a few bruises and cuts, but most looked too old to have been caused by their current predicament.
“You train too hard,” he muttered.
“You do not train hard enough,” she said as she tried, and failed, to stand.
Malcius helped her sit back up and said, “Just give us a minute to recover, will you? Where do you think we are?”
“I don’t know,” she said as she pulled her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees. “I am trying to remember what happened.”
Malcius rubbed a sore knot on his head. “We were coming out of the cabin when the ship suddenly lurched. I remember grabbing you, but … I don’t know what happened after that.”
Yserria stared at the ocean. “Do you think the ship sank?
Malcius could not even consider it, so he said nothing.
“Rezkin will come for us,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said as he examined his clothes. His overshirt was torn and hanging in pieces, but he at least had both his boots.
Yserria began checking her armor, which seemed to be in good condition, and Malcius wished he had been wearing his when the ship was attacked. She said, “He always says that protecting his friends is his first priority.”
Malcius discarded the pieces of his torn shirt. “Yes, but I can also see him saying that we should be capable of fending for ourselves and getting back to Cael on our own.”
Yserria looked as if she would argue. Then, she simply sighed. “Yes, he would say something like that.” She turned to him, her words forestalled when her gaze caught on his chest. “What is that?” she said.
Malcius glanced down and realized, with relief, that he still had the amulet containing her life stone. “That is none of your concern,” he said. “If anything, it should have belonged to Palis, but it is now my curse to bear.”
“A family heirloom?” she said as her gaze returned to the sea. “I have none but my father’s sword,” she said as she patted the scabbard at her hip. “The strikers tell me it is too long and heavy for me, but it is all I have of him.”
“Well, now you have that, too,” he said with a nod.
Yserria reached up to grasp the torque Rezkin had yet to remove. “Why do you think he insists I wear it?”
Malcius gave her a reproachful look. “You know why.”
She smirked. “He does not have those kinds of feelings for me.”
Her objection seemed a bit too quick to him, but he decided to let it go for the time being. Instead he said, “Where do you think we are?”
She looked at the sky, squinting into the sun, and then back to the ocean. “We are on the south side of the bay. Since the surface current flows east, we could be in eastern Ferélle or Lon Lerésh. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine.”
Malcius stood and brushed some of the sand from his soggy pants. “Alright, we will travel west. If we are in Lon Lerésh, we can cross the River Rhen and catch the next ship to Uthrel in Esk.” Malcius stated the plan with confidence, but he was quaking inside. He had no idea how they would manage any of what he had suggested. His doubts were compounded by the ambiguous look she was giving him. “What?”
“There are three echelons between Kielen and Ferélle. We could be in any one of them. It may be a long walk. Also, if we are in Ferélle, we will be traveling the wrong direction.”
She sighed and then began stalking down the narrow beach that was lined with forest on the landward side. Malcius collected the discarded remains of his shirt. Rezkin had taught him to never leave evidence of his passing behind. He grabbed a long stick from the brush and followed Yserria. Tall palms and flowering bushes offered shade as they walked. Every once in a while, he found an interesting seashell or piece of coral to collect, using a piece of his shirt to wrap the small treasures. He felt comfort in owning something even if he knew the shells to be of little or no value.
His stomach grumbled. “We need to find food,” he said.
Yserria kept walking.
“Hey! Did you hear me? I said we need to find food.”
She spun, opened her arms wide, and said, “Do you see any food here?”