“Vara, they will empty our storehouses,” the honored High Elder said, in hushed and angry tones. “They number in the hundreds. We can survive on the fruits of the island for a time, but if they take the rice and millet—”
“They are pirates,” another elder cut in. “They may not be from the Fleet of the Tiger Eye, but there are only pirates in these waters. Of course they will take our food—by force, if necessary.”
“These are not pirates,” Elder Vara soothed. “Their captain says they come from Queen Sabran of Inys. They are bound for the Empire of the Twelve Lakes. I think, for the sake of peace, it would be best to help them on their way.”
“By risking the lives of our charges,” the same elder hissed. “What if they carry the red sickness?”
Tané was hardly listening to the squabble. Her gaze was on the storm-tossed sea.
The blue jewel was quiet in its prison. She kept it in a watertight lacquer case on her sash, always in reach.
“You are an utter fool,” the High Elder barked, drawing her attention back to the room. “You should have refused them shelter. This is sacred land.”
“We must show them a little compassion, Elder—”
“Try preaching compassion to the people who lost their lives, their families, when the red sickness came to the shores of the East.” The elder sniffed. “On your head be it.”
He swept out of the room, giving Tané a brief nod as he passed. The other elders followed. Elder Vara pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Do we have any weapons at all on this island?” Tané asked him.
“A handful under the floor in the dining hall, for use if the island is threatened by invaders. The elders, in that case, would secure the archives while the younger scholars fought.”
“We ought to keep them close. Most of the scholars are trained in the sword-way,” Tané said. “If these pirates try to rob us, we must be ready.”
“I have no wish to cause panic among the students, child. The outsiders will remain in the cliffside village. We are too high for them here.” He offered her a smile. “You have been a great help to me today, but the night is old. You have earned your rest.”
“I am not tired.”
“Your face tells me otherwise.”
It was true that there was cold sweat on her brow, and that shadow circled her eyes. She bowed and left the healing room.
The corridors of the house were empty. Most of the scholars knew nothing of the pirates, and slept with no cares in the world. Tané kept a hand at her side, close to the case.
It had not taken her long to understand the way her treasure worked. Every day, before reflection and after supper, she had climbed to the top of the dormant volcano, where rainwater pooled in the crater, and attuned herself to the vibrations of the jewel. She found an instinct, buried deep, that showed her how to will those vibrations outward—as if she had done this long ago, and her body was remembering.
At first, she had used the jewel to cast ripples. Next, she had folded an oil-paper butterfly and made it glide away from her. Then, under cover of darkness, she had started to sneak down to the beach.
Days it had taken her to lure in the surf. The tides were set in their ways.
Tané had watched a woman in Cape Hisan embroidering a robe once. The needle dipping in and out, drawing the thread behind it, colors blooming on the silk. Inspired by the memory, Tané had imagined the power in the jewel as a needle, the water as the thread, and herself as a seamster of the sea. Slowly, the waves had leaned toward her and wrapped themselves around her legs.
Finally, one night, the jewel as bright as lightning in her grasp, she had hauled the sea onto the beach until there was no sand. It had mystified the scholars before it ebbed away.
That effort had left her almost insensible. But she knew now what she and the jewel could do.
When she had seen the Western ship, embattled by the storm, she had run straight to the cliffs. The great Kwiriki had sent her an opportunity, and she was ready, at last, to seize it.
The sea had answered her willingly this time. Though the ship had strained against it, she had succeeded in guiding it past the coral reef. Now it was almost unguarded in the shallows.
It was time to make her escape. She had wasted away for too long in this place. And she knew exactly where she would go. To the island of the mulberry tree, where the Golden Empress was headed with Nayimathun in the belly of her ship.
Tané hung her gourd of sweet water from her sash and made her way to the empty dining hall. The weapons were hidden beneath a floorboard, just as Elder Vara had said. She tucked the throwing knives into her sash, then took a Seiikinese sword and a dagger.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Tané stilled.
“I knew you would try to leave. I saw it in your eyes when I told you about the Fleet of the Tiger Eye.” Elder Vara kept his voice low. “You cannot master that ship alone, Tané. You would need a crew of hundreds.”
“Or this.”
She reached into her case and showed him the jewel, now dull. Elder Vara stared at it.
“The rising jewel of Neporo.” His gaze was reverent. “In all my years, I never thought—”
He could not finish. “It was sewn into my side,” Tané said quietly. “I have had it inside me my whole life.”
“By the light of the great Kwiriki. For centuries Feather Island guarded the star chart to Komoridu, the resting place of the rising jewel,” he murmured. “It seems it was never there.”
“Do you know where the island is, Elder Vara?” Tané rose. “I meant to search the seas until I found the Golden Empress, but I will have more chance if I know where she is going.”
“Tané,” Elder Vara said, “you must not go there. Even if you did meet the Fleet of the Tiger Eye, there is no surety that the great Nayimathun is still alive. And if she is, you cannot take on the might of the pirate army to reclaim her. You would die in the attempt.”
“I must try.” Tané offered a faint smile. “Like the Little Shadow-girl. I took heart from that story, Elder Vara.”
She could see the struggle in him.
“I understand,” he finally said. “Miduchi Tané died when her dragon was taken. Since then, you have been her ghost. A vengeful ghost—restless, unable to move forward.”
Heat pricked her eyes.
“Were I a younger or braver man, I might even have come with you. I would have risked anything,” he said, “for my dragon.”
Tané stared at him.
“You were a rider,” she said.
“You would have known my name. Many years ago, I was called the Driftwood Prince.”
One of the greatest dragonriders who had ever lived. Born to a Seiikinese courtier and a pirate from a far-off land, he had been left at the door of the South House and eventually risen to the ranks of the High Sea Guard. One night, he had fallen from his saddle in battle, breaking his leg, and the Fleet of the Tiger Eye had taken him as a hostage.
They had made a trophy of his leg that night. Legend said that they had thrown him into the sea for the bloodfish, but he had survived until dawn, when a friendly ship had found him.
“Now you know,” Elder Vara said. “Some riders continue after such injuries, but the memory of it has scarred me. Each time I see a ship, I remember the sound of my bones shattering.” A true smile creased his face. “Sometimes my dragon will still come this way. To see me.”
Tané felt a surge of admiration such as she had never known.
“It has been peaceful here,” she said, “but my blood is the sea, and it cannot be still.”
“No. This place was never in your stars.” The smile faded. “But perhaps Komoridu is.”
He removed a scrap of paper, an inkpot, and a brush from his satchel.
“If the great Kwiriki is good to us, the Golden Empress will never reach Komoridu,” he said. “But if she has pieced it together … she may be almost there.” He wrote the instructions. “You must sail east, to the constellation of the Magpie. At the ninth hour of night, make sure your ship is directly under the star representing his eye, and turn southeast. Sail for the midpoint between the South Star and the Dreaming Star.”
Tané put the jewel away. “For how long?”
“The chart did not say—but in that direction, you will find Komoridu. Follow those two stars no matter where in the sky they drift. With the jewel, you might be able to catch the Pursuit.”
“You will let me keep the jewel.”
“It was given to you.” He handed her the instructions. “Where will you go, Tané, once you find the great Nayimathun?”
She had not yet thought that far ahead. If her dragon was alive, she would free her from the pirates and take her to the Empire of the Twelve Lakes. If not, she would ensure she was avenged.
After that, she did not know what she would do. Only that she might be at peace.
Elder Vara seemed to know from her face that she could give him no answer. “I will send you away with my blessing, Tané, if you promise me one thing,” he murmured. “That one day, you will forgive yourself. You are in the spring of your life, child, and have much to learn about this world. Do not deny yourself the privilege of living.”
Her jaw trembled.