Warding Song - Prologue
The story begins...
San Nicolas was soaked. Houses surrounded the bay on either side of the river Muli, with pale walls and sloping roofs. On the far side of the island from the capital, it was the haunt of beggars and thieves. If Atanes was the gateway to the Dejeres Archipelago, then San Nicolas was the back door.
Catherine Flanders sat in her bedroom, eyeing a leak in the ceiling with distaste. Drops fell into a bucket, the noise drowned out by the drumming of rain on the window. Wait a minute … that isn’t the rain.
Cat went downstairs and entered her kitchen. Someone hammered at the back door. She frowned. It wasn’t time for a shipment yet, surely. Taking out a flintlock pistol, she moved forward with trepidation. As she neared the door, Cat heard a wail. It sounded like a baby, crying.
Gripping the pistol in one hand, she unlocked the door and cracked it open. A small chain held it in place. “Who’s there?” she demanded.
A voice she hadn’t heard in years, yet as familiar as her own hands, snapped “let me in already! I’m getting soaked out here!”
She unhooked the chain and opened the door fully. Nicole Skytte, her old friend, pushed past her into the kitchen. Nicole carefully lifted a bundle out from under her coat and cradled it. The bundle wailed.
“That’s a baby.”
“Obviously. Hush, sweetheart, hush.” Nicole began to sing a lullaby; no, a sea shanty. “Oh the queen of the sea may grant us a wind that’s strong and warm. Oh the queen of the sea may grant us a current fast and true. Oh the queen of the sea may grant us the fate to survive storms. Oh the queen of the sea may take pity and let us sail anew.”
The baby stopped crying and burbled. “Oh the queen of the sea into which the Bandye river flows. From the deep dark woods of Ciprace, in which a shaman dwells. Oh the queen of the sea may grant us the strength to all heave ho. Oh the queen of the sea may take pity and let us brave the swells.”Soothed by her singing, the baby fell quiet.
“Nicole, where did you get a baby?”
“What do you mean, where did I get her? She’s my daughter.”
Cat stared at her. “When did you have a baby? And where?”
“The fifth of Medeza. As for where … that’s not important. Her name is Eleyna. Isn’t she beautiful?” Nicole asked, smiling down at the child.
Now that she wasn’t screaming, the baby was rather cute, with round blue eyes and a mop of obsidian curls. “Who’s the father?” asked Cat.
Nicole replied, “a man from Limuanes. That’s all I’m going to say.”
“That lullaby you were singing,” said Cat. “What was all that Bandye and shaman talk about? I’m pretty sure that’s not how the song goes.”
“I changed it. Teach her this version, will you?” She handed Cat a slip of paper onto which the new lyrics had been hastily scrawled. “Oh, and wrap her in blankets during storms. You can’t have her getting chilled.”
Nicole spoke so matter-of-factly, Cat nearly agreed without thinking. She caught herself, brow furrowed. “You talk as if you won’t be here.”
“That’s because I won’t be. I need you to raise her for me.” Cat gaped at her in disbelief. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. It’s what’s best for Eleyna, and you know it. The high seas are no place for a baby.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you went belly-up! The nerve of you, showing up out of nowhere to foist some smelly brat on me.”
“Shh! Keep your voice down. Eleyna is not a brat. She’s my daughter. We’re like sisters, which makes her your honorary niece.” Nicole carefully shrugged off her rucksack and dropped it on the table. Cat heard the tell-tale chink of coins. “Sueltos. To help pay for her needs.”
“How generous,” Catherine sneered at her, seething. “Just what I’ve always wanted; a noisy, smelly infant to bother me. You got yourself in this mess, Nicole; don’t make it my problem. She’s your daughter.”
“I know!” Nicole hissed, brown eyes filled with hurt. “I love her. I do.”
Cat folded her arms, scornful. “You just love the pirate life more.”
Nicole fought back a flinch, then straightened her shoulders. “I’m selfish, yes,” she admitted. “It comes with the territory, I’m afraid.”
“There’s a perfectly good orphanage here in Sannick, you know.”
“You know perfectly well it’s a workhouse. Besides, ‘Sir Geralds’ or whatever it’s called is owned by the Imperials, and I don’t trust them.”
“I wonder why?”
“Catherine, please,” she begged. “I know I’m asking a lot. I know you didn’t want this. But there’s no one else I trust to take care of my baby more than you. If I could bring her with me, I would, but I can’t.”
Damn you, Nicole. It had always been hard to say no to the irrepressible woman. Catherine still tried to resist the inevitable. “How do I explain why I have a baby who looks nothing like me?”
“Tell “em she takes after her father,” Nicole shrugged. “Or say you found her swaddled up on your doorstep and took her in out of the goodness of your heart. You do have one, don’t you?” she asked, and then laughed airily. “Oh, I’m only kidding, of course you do!”
“So … lie through my teeth. Well that’s nothing new,” Cat noted. She bit her lip. “Let’s say I did this. As if I haven’t stuck my neck out for you enough all these years. What should I tell her,” she asked, gesturing to Eleyna in her mother’s arms, “when she asks where you are?”
“You can tell her the truth, for all I care. I won’t be here.”
“No kidding. When she calls me ‘mama’, I’ll tell her, no, I’m not your mummy. Your mummy is a pirate who left you with me, because motherhood would’ve gotten in the way of her swashbuckling.”
Nicole flinched. “I can’t raise a baby at sea, and I can’t stay on land. Even if the Imps weren’t … I can’t. This is the only way, Cat.”
She looked so earnest. Though Cat knew better than to fall for it, she sighed and gave in. “Fine. I’ll take care of the little … girl. Happy now?”
“There’s a dear!” Nicole kissed Eleyna on the forehead, and carefully placed her in Cat’s arms. Then she unfastened a locket from around her neck. It was made of gold, all scratched up, with an amethyst in the centre. She put it on the table. “Give this to Eleyna when she’s old enough, and tell her not to lose it. It’s the key to her future.”
“… Well, that wasn’t cryptic at all,” Cat deadpanned. “Nicole, be honest with me. Is this it? Are you even planning to visit Eleyna?” she asked.
“If she found out who – or what – I am, she might want to come with me before she’s ready. When she’s sixteen, I’ll come back for her. I’ll take her aboard the Piedra. Might even make her my first mate.”
“And if you don’t?” Cat was all too aware of how dangerous pirate life could be. Each time her friend sailed away, Cat had to deal with the fact that it might be the last she’d see of Nicole. Perhaps it was for the best she didn’t visit. At least then Eleyna wouldn’t be left waiting.
Nicole smiled tightly. “I’m sure you’ll use your discretion.” She briefly embraced Catherine and Eleyna, then drew up her hood again and opened the door. One last time she looked back at her daughter; then she was gone. Cat looked at the sleeping baby in her arms.
“I’m sorry about this, little one. You deserve better,” she murmured.
The locket and rucksack full of money were still on the table. Cat touched the amethyst. It buzzed under her fingers and suffused her with confidence. She could see how a charged amethyst would come in handy, but … “The key to her future? What does that even mean?”
~~~
Far to the west lay a massive island, with a towering volcano in the centre. To an outsider it seemed a wasteland, covered in bone dry rock and tongues of cooled lava. Yet the island teemed with life; a very unique kind of life. Natives called it Cemotifi – the mount of fire.
The dragons called it only ‘the nesting place’. This was the largest fire-mountain in these parts, with plenty of prey and firestones; the crystals they crushed and swallowed to let themselves breathe fire.
There were many colours of firestone. Most common were orange ones; eating these gave their spikes a fiery sheen, in stark contrast to their black and grey hides. This, and the rippling bands of black or grey on their broad wings, led humans to name them Fire Agates.
Other colours, like purple, blue and red, were rare. These firestones were prized and guarded even more fiercely than the rest of their hoards. The more of these stones a dragon ate, the longer they lived.
Tonight, eggs were hatching across the island. Dragon mothers, or Dams, coughed up fish and licked yolk from soft scales. The adults celebrated, breathing pillars of scorching flame into the air, roaring for joy. Here and there, clusters of drakainas tried to comfort mourning Dams whose egg had not hatched, and sadly never would. One refused to believe it.
She coiled around her small egg, hissing at the females surrounding her. “It will hatch!” she insisted. “It’s warm, I can hear the hatchling inside. Come out, little one,” she whimpered, nudging the eggshell with the tip of her snout. Despite her desperate hope, it didn’t move.
“Your egg is gone, Fee-Bee,” one female crooned. “It’s too small. The hatchling is too weak to crack the shell.” Small eggs often didn’t hatch.
Fee-Bee refused to give up. “I’ll crack the shell myself if I have to!” she snarled, forelegs tensing as her claws gouged the rock. This was her first egg; she didn’t want to lose her hatchling. She couldn’t bear that.
“No!” snarled another drakaina, stronger and higher-ranking; others scrambled out of the way as she neared. “You can’t break it open,” she growled. “Hatchlings must be strong enough to break out on their own. If they can’t even hatch themselves, they’re too weak to survive!”
Fee-Bee crouched over her egg, and snarled, glaring at the other drakaina. “I don’t care, Sharpest Claw. I am not giving up on them!”
“You forget your place. You don’t even have a name,” Sharpest Claw mocked. “Now stand aside. I will put the weakling out of its misery.” She made to swipe those razor talons at the egg; Fee-Bee sank her fangs into Sharpest Claw’s foreleg, who screeched and tore away.
“Stay back!” Fee-Bee roared, hiding her egg behind a wing. “I won’t let you murder my baby!” Her mate, where was he? “Lightning! Help me!”
Sharpest Claw growled, furious at her defiance. Fee-Bee hunched in on herself, tucking her head into the darkness beneath her wing. She nudged her egg, think-speaking to it desperately. “Please, little one … ”
She heard a bellowing roar and felt a ground-shaking thud; her mate had returned. Scarred By Lightning dropped his prey, a dolphin, and reared up, flaring out his wings. The rippling striations were criss-crossed by branching scars that had earned him his name.
“How dare you?” he snarled. “How dare you threaten my mate!”
“I outrank you,” growled Sharpest Claw. “That egg of yours is doomed.”
Lightning’s amber eyes narrowed. “Come near my other half again, and I will rip your throat out,” he promised. Sharpest Claw recoiled; then, with a disdainful hiss, she turned and flew away. The other females had long since retreated from their cliff-side nesting spot.
Once they were alone, he draped one wing over his mate. “Are you okay?” he asked, nuzzling her. She purred at him, but her wings and tail were tucked in tight. Whining, she nudged at the egg again.
“Why won’t it hatch? Am I doing something wrong?” she wondered.
“No, love. It’s not your fault. Sometimes eggs don’t hatch,” he sighed, thin trickles of smoke curling from his nostrils. “It’s how things are.”
Thump … thump … thump … thump … her hatchlings heartbeat was slow. Fee-Bee whimpered. Her little one was weak, but how could she let them die? She tapped the shell gently with the sharp tip of her snout, making a crack. Then she heard another crack, and pulled back in shock. Her wings fluttered in excitement. “Lightning, it’s hatching!”
“I want it to hatch as much as you,” he said, “but we might have to – ”
A crack cut him off. A fracture appeared. Fee-Bee chittered longingly. More fractures. A piece of shell lifted up. A tiny claw poked out. At last, the egg shattered, and a hatchling tumbled free. She blinked, her wide eyes like purple fire-stones, and let out a confused mew.
“She has your eyes,” Lightning observed. Fee-Bee was too delighted to think-speak, and groomed the baby, who squeaked. Her wings were broad, her long neck and tail weren’t crooked. She was small, but healthy, and that was what mattered. Bursting with pride, Lightning breathed a triumphant torrent of flames at the stars.
Fee-Bee trilled fondly. “That’s what her calling-sound will be. Trill.” She looked up at Lightning. “We have to protect her. Sharpest Claw was going to destroy an egg; I hate to think what she and those like her might do to our little hatchling.” She let out an anxious whine.
Lightning nuzzled her, and his daughter. “We’ll keep to ourselves,” he declared. “We’re far from the mountain here. They won’t bother us.”
~~~~
The next segment is scheduled to release on Friday the 12th of January 2024.
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