Drawing Attention to a Problem
Chapter Thirteen
Welcome to The Children of Una series. Here’s a handy index of the published chapters.
In the last chapter, Danen and Aster tried to figure out the purpose of Lewison’s assigning them a knot-tying lesson. While Danen figures a way to get around what he believes is a test of creativity, Aster continues to caution his friend about his incautious magic use. Meanwhile, the High Mage grows incredibly seasick.
The groan of the wood planks near his head woke Danen the next morning. The sounds were muted, but he could hear the shifting of the Sukeena’s Breath as she split the waves with her hull. The pitch and lurch of the vessel exhilarated him as though he were riding a capricious beast. He tried to raise his head and knocked it against the upper bunk. A small knot rose on his scalp. He rubbed it as he scrambled free of his blanket, then regretted touching his wiry hair with his blistered fingers.
“Forgot about that,” he said, wincing.
His stomach grumbled at him while he dressed. While fastening the laces of his boots he discovered his Elsyncria glowing blue. The ring gave him a very puzzling message. You are not alone here. He blinked at the dim corners of the cabin. Who could it be referring to?
Lewison was under a pile of blankets in the full-sized bed across the room. Aster must have risen already, for his bunk was empty and his shoes missing from the box near the door. Danen’s stomach growled again as he crept past his uncle. It was strange that the old man was still sleeping after retiring early yesterday. On an impulse, Danen stepped up to the bed and peered over his uncle’s shoulder. He saw grey hair escaping the woolen blankets but nothing more. Lewison’s breath was a muffled sigh.
Danen shrugged and left the cabin. Outside, the day was as bright and fresh as the cerulean water that surrounded the ship. He ran to the railing. To the west he could make out a smudge of darker blue on the horizon which he guessed was the mainland. They’d be arriving tomorrow, most likely. Despite his eagerness to study their approaching destination, he first went down to the galley to eat. Breakfast was a cabbage porridge with a slice of salt pork that he devoured in minutes, scanning the room as he wolfed it down. Aster wasn’t there.
Back on deck, Danen found a barebones crew engaged in tidying the deck and simple repairs. The rest, he supposed, were in the galley he’d just left or sleeping. He found Suan and Aster standing on the port side next to a roofed stairwell that led to the hold. It didn’t surprise him one bit to see Aster toss the knot. When he joined them, Suan was taking the rope from the farm boy to adjust it a little before telling Aster where to start in releasing it. There was a trick to that, too.
Danen used a barrel as a stepping stool and climbed up onto the slanted roof that housed the stairwell. He squatted on the peak in a show of graceful ease. Suan scowled up at him, then redirected his attention to the half-botched release Aster had just executed.
“Well, that’s a good deal better than an hour ago!” Suan said, demonstrating the correct method. He extended a different length of rope to Danen. “Will you try?”
Danen lifted his hands, palms forward. “My skin is still growing back. I’ll just wait till the High Mage wakes up and does a healing spell on them before I keep practicing.”
Suan winced at the sight of the blisters. Some of them had burst while Danen was sleeping and were seeping clear liquid.
“That’s a pity. Why didn’t you take a break before they got that bad?” Suan asked him.
Danen grew stiff and defensive. “Aster didn’t take any breaks. Why should I?”
The farm boy glanced from his work-hardened hands to Danen’s blistered ones. “You can’t expect to keep up with me!”
Danen bristled.
“I doubt the lad meant that as a challenge, Danen.” Suan chuckled. “It’s just a fact — his hands take less of a beating from the rope. That means he can practice longer. You, on the other hand, have to toughen yourself up more gradually. Unless you’re willing to suffer the consequences of a forging-by-fire approach. Unfortunately, those are your only options. We haven’t any healers on board, just a regular ship’s doctor. ”
Danen’s jaw clenched. He balled his smarting hands into fists. “I can take a beating as well as anyone!”
Suan and Aster watched, dumbfounded by Danen’s rising temper. A sailor walking by with a bucket of water in his hands was startled to find his burden suddenly lighter. Danen manipulated the water to form a coating around his hands and forearms. He stood balancing his weight on the peak of the stairwell roof. With a nod, he signaled his readiness to Suan and the man tossed up the length of rope. To Aster’s surprise, Danen didn’t use the water to bend the rope this time. Instead, he made several attempts and finally tossed the knot on his own, his hands protected from the abrasiveness of the rope by a layer of water.
Aster expected Suan to be aghast at this display of skill, especially from an apparently untutored acolyte. But Suan took Danen’s capabilities with the water-spell in stride, focusing on the lesson he was trying to teach the boys.
Danen’s attempt to tug the knot free took longer. Suan tried to demonstrate, but Danen flailed at it with such short-tempered fervency that he was deaf to the sailor’s suggestions. After a while he was forced to hop down from his perch, his anger cooling into grim determination. Aster stood by and watched the other boy continue to find the knot a challenge. He set aside his own knotted rope, unwilling to make Danen feel as though he were failing at an easy task.
“El’s curses!” Danen shouted, flinging down the rope and scattering water in every direction.
Aster flinched. He scanned the faces of the nearest sailors, some of whom were Elves. None seemed to have heard Danen.
With a red face, Danen asked Suan, “What am I doing wrong?”
“Releasing the knot requires a single swift tug on the right part of the rope, but I don’t think you can pull it firmly enough with water coating your hands.”
The sailor tossed a fresh knot on a dry rope and handed it to Danen. “Try again, but only a few times. If you don’t get it, just wait for your blisters to heal so you can keep practicing.”
Danen nodded grimly. He gripped the rope as Suan had demonstrated. But before he could begin, the sailor snatched at the boy’s wrist and turned it so Danen’s hand lay palm upwards. With a curse under his breath, Suan dropped Danen’s hand like it was a stinging jelly. Aster, too, had seen what disturbed him. The blisters were gone.
“Healing magic . . . ” Suan hissed. The sailor turned abruptly and strode off in the direction of the captain, leaving Aster and Danen staring at one another.
Aster moved to Danen’s side and examined his still up-turned palms. Danen was too stunned to move on from the moment, the knotted rope lying forgotten at his feet. From across the deck, the breeze brought the noise of a small commotion stirring around the captain.
Aster gripped Danen’s forearm and pulled him along. “Let’s get back to the cabin. Find your Uncle.”
“What?” Danen yanked, but Aster’s grip on him was firm. “What’s the problem? Haven’t they ever seen healing magic before?”
Aster shot Danen a warning look. “You didn’t heal yourself. That’s impossible.”
Both boys felt the eyes of the crew on them as they ducked inside their quarters. They shut the door on an astonished murmuring that was growing in volume. Inside the room, Danen rubbed his hands together with a pleased smirk.
“Hey Aster, this fake healing feels pretty good. It gave me callouses and everything. Look!”
His face drawn, Aster leaned to get a closer look at the other boy’s upturned palms. Danen was right. At the base of each finger was a plump callous as thick and tough as Aster’s own.
*********
Lewison Coblaine lay with his head pillowed in the crook of his left arm, his right hand pressing the feather pillow over his throbbing forehead. It was no use. The constant rocking of the ship lurched his insides up and down, here and there and everywhere, until his head spun and ached. If he had eaten, he would have vomited everything up. As it was, his mouth felt parched and he wondered if he were about to succumb to a fever. Chills hadn’t begun to rack his frail body but he felt sicker than he’d ever been in his long life.
Dimly, he heard the cabin door open and close. There were small sounds and muffled voices coming from the other end of the room. The boys would be wondering what had come over their mentor, he realized. There were responsibilities he was neglecting; he ought to get out of bed.
It was sometime later that he roused again, aware he had been intending to get up and had failed to force himself. But now there were more voices, angry ones that pounded against his headache. Was that the voice of the captain? What had happened while Lewison slept? Then gentle, firm voices quelled the captains. Voices that sent a shiver of relief coursing through the sick man. Those last were Elves. Perhaps they were healers. Lewison groaned, trying to move his limbs, and managed to uncover his head. He blinked in the lamplight. Was it evening again?
“Lord Coblaine,”someone said, standing over his bed. “Are you able to sit up?”
Lewison felt his stomach turn over at the thought. “Too sea-sick . . .”
“This is no sea-sickness, I fear.”
A firm hand gripped his own, anchoring him. He felt his body growing cooler and cooler as that hand pulled him up into a sitting position and his pillows were shoved behind him, supporting his back as he swayed. His eyes were squeezed shut. A pair of cool, smooth palms were placed over his eyelids, the long fingers resting lightly on his forehead and hair. Lewison sighed in relief as he felt the effects of healing magic wash over him, beginning from his head and eventually reaching his bare toes under the covers.
The voice that hovered above him hissed in surprise. “A soul curse!”
“A curse? Are you sure, Dimavure?” Another voice said, drawing closer.
There was a pause.
Lewison felt the man’s magic probing inside his soul like a doctor’s icy fingers probing a wound. When the Elf healer spoke again, his voice was set with certainty. “The curse is there, faint and warped with time. But its presence is unmistakable.”
Dear Reader,
Elves to the rescue!
I didn't realize this when I was first writing, but it's kind of interesting that the very first actual Elven characters we meet are these two. Very nice, unassuming chaps. And Lewison has no problem handling the situation once they get him shaped up again.
But don't be fooled, dear reader! There are more Elves to come, and not all of them will be so nice.
Cheers~
LL