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I blinked. “But I’ve not committed any treason. I would never—”
Syrra chuckled. “I know that, child. It is most often a sign that one is being treacherous to oneself. To live deceiving yourself is a heavy burden to carry.” She eyed the wineskin hanging from my horse.
I stared at Riven’s footprints next to my own. There were hints of a brighter blue hiding beneath, but there was no denying that Riven’s were entirely shadowed. Its depth sent a cool wave down my spine as I wondered how much pain Riven had been hiding from me. From everyone.
My footprints were only rimmed with black and my secrets ate at me with every breath. Syrra seemed to misread my silence as worry for myself. She wrapped her arm around my shoulder and squeezed gently. “Do not fret about the black. It is the gray that concerns me most but I supposed that is to be expected. This is the first time in centuries that mine haven’t been and you are responsible for that.”
My brows knitted together as I faced her. “How?”
Syrra smiled softly and in that moment she looked so much like her sister. “Gray is the color of grief. It can drain every ounce of pigment from you if you let it.”
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
WE LEFT OUR HORSEStied along the edge of the forest for a group of Halflings to tend to. They were only an hour behind and would camp along the beach until we returned.
I watched as Syrra and Gerarda wordlessly prepared the ship to set sail. It looked nothing like the ships docked in the royal ports of Volcar or Koratha, but Gerarda had been preparing it all week. My stomach fell when I saw she had stocked it with supplies to feed and bandage a thousand.
Nikolai cast off the last of the lines and nodded at me. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I let that whirling power grow in my chest and aimed my magic at the sail. A strong gust lurched us forward. I added another and then another, pulling us quietly away from the dock and out to sea. I tried to fold the gusts together in the braided sphere Feron hadshown me, but the setting suns made it difficult to see where one gust ended and another began.
“I thought you had this handled,” Gerarda whispered through clenched teeth. Sailing the natural way would lengthen our journey to over a month.
“I’ve never trained at this time of day.” I shook my head and made eye contact with Riven. The shadows by his head flattened ever so softly under my gusts.
An idea sparked.
I waved my hand so only one powerful gust remained. Everyone jerked as the ship immediately slowed. “Can you add your shadows in to this stream?”
Riven nodded and strings of darkness mixed with the moving air so it looked like fog.
I smiled. “Now keep them to only that stream.”
Riven nodded and I added another gust. I wrapped the two around each other twice, letting Riven gain control of his shadows before I added the third. The visibility was all I needed to weave the streams together just as Feron had taught me. It wasn’t nearly as big or pretty as the tangle of roots he had shown me, but it was enough.
A never-ending gust.
I pushed it against the large sail and the ship gained a swift and silent pace. I looked back over my shoulder and saw that the mainland had already disappeared behind us.
Gerarda finally dropped her gaze from the sail. “It’s holding well.”
I waited for the piercing comment that usually followed any of Gerarda’s compliments, but it never came. Her gaze returned to the orb of wind as if the realization that we were headed back to the Order was finally settling into her mind. Her lips pursed and in the shadow of the sail, I thought her eyes were misted, making the dark pupils almost gray.
Just like her footprints.
I opened my mouth to say something, but Gerarda cleared her throat and turned to Syrra with her arms tucked behind her back. “I’ll take first sail. I prefer to navigate by night.”
Syrra passed her a naval map that glowed under the dark blue sky. Just off the coast of the Faeland was a tiny dot that seemed to shine from the parchment.
Vrail appeared at my side and pointed to it. “This is one of the only maps that still tracks its own ship. Before Aemon, the Elverin made maps out of the same trees as their ships. Then they imbued the parchment with the magic of water wielders so each map could show their ship’s location.”
Gerarda’s brows lifted in a rare moment of shock. “How many maps were made for each ship?”
Vrail clapped her hands excitedly and her talking speed went from a gentle creek to a rushing river. “Typically, five. It allowed for the captains of each vessel to have a few copies for navigation, but also allowed for others on the mainland to track where their loved ones were.”
Gerarda’s lip twitched as the shiny dot moved ever so slightly south along the map. “Ingenious.”
“It would’ve been wonderful to see.” Vrail sighed. “Unfortunately, most of the ships were burned when Aemon took power. And some of the surviving vessels’ maps have never been found.”
