The Shattered Land_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [82]
Distant forces turned the waters against you, but I have calmed the restless spirits. The voice was soothing, as calm and hypnotic as slow waves at sunset. My mark is upon you, and you will reach your destination without further trouble.
“You know this because you know our destination?”
There is little I do not know, Daine with no family name. Your journey is just beginning. Darkness is at your heels, and your journey will take you through death and dream. Water will not harm you, but this is the season of fire.
“I’d heard that,” Daine said, glancing over at Lei. He questioned her with his expression, but she just shook her head. “How do you know who we are?”
We have met before, Daine, and we will meet again before this is done. I watch and I wait, and I act when I can—but there is little I can say and less I can do.
“Well, I thank you for saving my vessel, good spirit of the seas,” Gerrion put in.
The waters composing the spirit grew darker, and her voice was thundering surf instead of gentle tide. I do nothing for you, child of the Sulatar. You have your own destiny, and it is not my place to change it. Count yourself lucky that you do not travel the seas alone this day.
Gerrion bowed his head, stepping back to the wheel. “My humblest apologies, great lady.” Daine and Lei exchanged looks.
The time for talk is done, and the currents draw you to your destiny. Remember: sometimes the oathbreaker is more trustworthy than the ally, and a brother can be both enemy and friend. I will see you again beyond the gates of night.
With that, she was gone. Whatever force was binding her body relaxed, and a fountain of water crashed down into the surface of the sea, spraying salt water across the deck of the Gray Cat.
No one spoke. Even the usually garrulous Gerrion was at a loss for words; he kept his eyes away from the others, and Daine wondered what a “Sulatar” was. The wind slowly picked up, billowing out the sail, and the ship began to move.
Daine slowly walked toward Lei and Pierce. Lei was fussing over the warforged, studying every joint; she did not look at Daine as he approached.
Motion in the corner of his vision brought Daine to a halt, and he turned toward the small cabin at the back of the boat. Lakashtai stepped out of the hatch.
“I was engaged in deep meditation,” she said, taking in the soaked sail and the bedraggled travelers. “Did something happen in my absence?”
Daine glanced at the others then shrugged. “Stormy weather,” he said.
Whether it was the result of mystical protection or simple good fortune, the day passed without further incident. Once Daine thought he saw a vast dark shape moving beneath the water, but predator or spirit, it did not rise to threaten the Gray Cat. The storms that lingered over the Thunder Sea held their distance, forming a dark wall to the north.
Though the waters were calm, the moods of the passengers were anything but. Lei had been avoiding Daine ever since the attack, devoting her attention to Pierce and pointedly looking away and falling silent the few times he approached. He could have forced the issue, but the Gray Cat was too small for privacy, and Daine didn’t want to continue the conversation around Gerrion or Lakashtai. In the end, he didn’t know what to say.
It had been many years since Daine had been a member of House Deneith, and it simply wasn’t a part of his identity. He had chosen to leave. In part this was a protest against the actions of the house itself. Cannith, Orien, Deneith: if the houses had joined together in support of the rightful queen of Galifar, the civil war might have ended before it had ever begun, but the war was an opportunity for the houses. The conflict brought many opportunities for profit: Deneith mercenaries, Jorasco healers, Cannith smiths—every house had an angle to work in the war. Greed and lust for power came before any sense of decency or compassion or loyalty to any land.
The policies of the house were only one