When Lyre’s turn at the casting was over, he was replaced by the other woman elf. On the way down to my room, Lyre tapped the back of my heel with his foot and when I looked up at him, he made a short gesture with his head at one member of the crew. There were 18 men on board including the Captain, and then there was the 4 slaves as well, so I recognized each man easily but didn’t have names to go with all the faces. He was a burly man of middling height with shaggy black hair and a weather worn face, and he wore what looked like a permanent scowl. As we entered the hall in front of my room, Lyre said only, “Sarks.” I grimaced, remembering that the Captain had given me the name of the man that had assaulted the elf the night before.

I paused in front of my door. It didn’t seem right that I knew his name and not hers. “What’s her name? The one he hurt?”

“Larina.”

Instead of going into my room, I turned to face Lyre. “Where is she being kept?” The ship didn’t have anything like an infirmary, and the man that they called the doctor was actually a drunken ex-soldier with some field medicine training. He seemed to be a personal friend of Wrasker’s.

“Down in the slave beds.”

“Could I meet her?” Lyre tilted his head slightly as he studied me, but then nodded and turned to lead the way.

As we entered the area where the slave bedding was kept, Lyre checked the rest of the cargo area quickly before coming back and sitting at the bottom of the stairs leading up. I realized he was making sure we were alone.

It was the first time I had entered this area of the ship since Lyre had shown me around the first time. The hay still had the damp musty smell to it, and I wondered how healthy it was for someone recovering from bad injuries to be in a place like this. I could see that Larina was sleeping, and that the few blankets available to them were all piled under and over her. I also realized she was the elven woman I saw casting the air spell my first night on the ship – what I could see of her face was bruised, and her breathing was ragged.

The other male elf was awake when I entered. He gave me a brief unreadable glance before averting his eyes to the ground, and settled himself in a more formal position with his feet pulled up under him and his hands placed on his lap. “Please excuse my fellow for not assuming a more formal posture for you. She is recovering from being injured.”

 I shook my head. “No… please. You don’t have to be formal either. Sit comfortably. Please.” His head had been shaved recently, but the stubble growing in was dark brown, and his tattoos involved a series of striking jagged lines along the left half of his face. He made no move, except to shift out of my way as I came closer to Larina. I placed the back of my hand against her forehead – she was warm to the touch, feverish, and I worried for infection. More than that, the sound of her breathing… “I’m so sorry,” I said softly, though I doubted she could hear me.

“Silden. She was the one that cast at Sarks,” Lyre said, addressing the other elf. He kept his voice low, but it still managed to carry over to us.

Silden’s head snapped up in surprise, and seeing some gesture from Lyre he turned to look at me. “Her?” Lyre must have nodded or assented in some way, because Silden continued with, “But she’s human. How?”

I answered even though he hadn’t asked me directly. “I don’t know how. I walked in and saw what he was doing to her… and it just happened. It erupted out of me. I didn’t intend for this to happen to her. I’m sorry.” I stared down at her, feeling that it wasn’t apology enough.

Silden closed his eyes tight for a moment, and out of the corner of my eyes I watched as his hands clenched, unclenched, and clenched again. For a frightening moment, I wondered if he was going to punch me, and I tensed. He was actually very muscular, and maybe even more physically imposing than the Captain. Finally, he relaxed and sat back in a less formal position – leaning back on one hand, the other hand rested across a knee. He studied me carefully. I could see now that he had brown eyes.

“So, do you have any control at all, or are you at risk of being exposed?”

“Lyre is trying to teach me,” I said. He narrowed his eyes at me and I could tell that he wasn’t entirely convinced, though I wasn’t sure if it was about my ability or about my control. I flushed under his gaze, and turned my attention back to Larina as she drew an especially pained gasp of air into her lungs. “Is there anything more anyone can do for her? Could you heal her, Lyre?”

I started to pull his Focus out from under my shirt, but he shook his head. “Healing isn’t unheard of, but I don’t know it. It’s not an easy cast.”

“They’ve done all they can for her,” Silden said. The tone of his voice was cold and brusque. When I glanced back at him, the pained look in his eyes, the tight set of his jaw, said that he cared a lot more than his tone let on. He looked away as our eyes met.

I leaned back close to her, wishing fervently that I could do something to make her more comfortable, when a strange feeling came over me. Something like a presence. I closed my eyes and felt a cold hand brush the hair back from my face and a voice seemed to whisper to me, soft like a sea breeze. I could even smell the salt of it, and something else, like ozone. (I can show you) it said.

I opened my eyes and I could see, like looking into her body. Feel her injuries, through some sense I never realized I had. I could sense the broken rib that had punctured the lung, the pooling of blood where blood wasn’t supposed to be slowly drowning her from the inside, the festering of the infection like a light that spread from her lungs and made her entire body glow. But can I make it go away? I thought fiercely at the voice.

And then I felt it happening as I willed it. The bones mended, the blood that was where blood shouldn’t be shifted and seemed to dissolve, the flesh around the wound pulled and knit together, the fever burned bright for a moment and then dissipated.

“What are you doing?” I felt strong hands grab me and yank me up and away, so hard that I was afraid my arm would pop out of my shoulder. I started to fall back when another set of arms grabbed me, steadying me before letting go, and then Lyre was blocking my vision as he stepped in front of me.

“Silden,” he said, his voice a warning as he put himself between us. Silden glared at me and turned back to Larina, kneeling beside her.

He placed a hand on her forehead. After a few tense moments, he looked back at me, a bewildered expression on his face. “The fever’s gone,” he murmured.

Even from across the small space I could tell that her breathing had become less ragged. But I was so keyed up for a moment, that I closed my eyes on his searching gaze. I took three very steady, very deep breaths. Then I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’m… I’m not sure what happened. It was like what happened before.”

And then a different voice seemed to give a hearty chuckle, so loud that I opened my eyes and looked around in alarm. Both Lyre and Silden only looked at me in confusion. (So, the seal weakens) it purred, sending a shiver down my spine.

“What was that?” I asked.

“I think you cast a healing spell of some kind. But… it was very different than the magic we use,” Lyre said. I shook my head, confused for a moment until I realized that neither he nor Silden had heard the voice at all.

There was a brief shifting of movement that caught my attention – I looked up to see that Lyre had grabbed Silden’s hand. Silden gave him a look that said he meant no harm, and backed up a bit, showing his palms. “I…” he trailed off, looking a bit sheepish. “Thank you,” he finally said, staring straight into my eyes. I nodded, still feeling dazed.

 We stood together in silence for several moments, staring down at Larina. The bruises weren’t fully healed, but I realized that may be a good thing, because it would be obvious something had happened if she was suddenly fully healed. Silden had stopped me just in time. “So, you can cast,” Silden said thoughtfully. “And she has your Focus?” A strange mix of expressions flitted across his face as he considered the possibilities. “You should try to figure out the unbinding spell!”

“Unbinding spell?” I asked, the voices chased from my mind completely for the moment.

“No one knows if that’s even a real spell,” Lyre cautioned. “And even if it is, it’s much too soon to try it.”

“We wouldn’t have to try it yet. We could wait until we’re closer to land, and steal the small boat. Hells, we could even swim!”

Lyre did not look fully convinced. “Silden… I’ve heard as many versions of the spell as there are royal bastards in Covage. There’s no guarantee it even exists.”

“Why else are they always so careful to not let us handle each other’s Focuses? We’ve all heard rumors of slaves escaping that way before.” Silden shook his head. “I’m not saying we have to be foolish about it, but we can compare the variations we’ve heard and at least plan an attempt. This may be the closest to freedom we’ll ever actually get.”

“We would still need to get a hold of each Focus to get all of us out.”

Silden leaned toward Lyre, his voice low but fierce. “Even if only a few of us get out… even if only you get out. Lyre – if you get the chance, even if you have to leave us all behind, you should go.” I kept looking from one to the other as each spoke. Lyre looked slightly disturbed at Silden’s insistence, and frowning, he broke eye contact to glance back at the stairs.

“Is this unbinding spell exactly what it sounds like?” I asked.

“Yes,” Lyre said. “But it may not be real.” After a few moments, he said, “We should probably go.”

---

Once we were back in my room, I asked, “Where are the other Focuses kept?”

Lyre frowned. “I don’t know. And I don’t think you should concern yourself with it. It’s not a very wise plan,” he said. He sat on the other bed and seemed lost in thought.

“Do you really think the unbinding spell won’t work?”

He looked up at me. “It might. Every slave has heard about it. And they do take care to make sure we never handle another slave’s Focus. But… every time I’ve heard of it, I’ve heard something slightly different. And even if we do figure it out, stealing each Focus is going to be almost impossible. One of us is always casting, so there’s a high chance that not all of us will make it, unless we directly attack the crew.” He pushed himself back on the bed and leaned against the wall behind him. “Trying to free us is risky. To be honest, it may be safer for you to just bide out your time on the ship and then leave when we reach shore. Keep your head low. Make your way to the Empire, and see if they’d be willing to take you in since you can cast.”

“I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t leave any of you behind, not if I don’t have to,” I said. “We’ll find a way, somehow. I’m sure.” He tilted his head slightly to study me, his expression inscrutable.

“If you leave on your own, on good terms with the Captain, you will leave in peace. If you leave with all of his slaves, he will contact the authorities, and we will be hunted every step of the way by skilled individuals armed with enchanted items and trained specifically to combat mages.”  

I sighed and plopped down on my own bed, laying back to stare at the ceiling of my cabin. I closed my eyes and considered sleeping. “Maybe it’d still be worth it,” I mumbled, slightly sulky.

After a few moments of silence, he asked, “Do you really have no memory of anything before the ship?”

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling again. It felt like such a small cramped space to be in. I struggled internally for a moment over how much I should tell Lyre, and said, “I remember everything about my life before now. I just don’t know how I came here.”

“Are you from the Empire?”

“No. I’m from… somewhere else completely.” After a couple of moments, I commanded the light to turn off, and the small room darkened.

If anything, it just made the space feel even smaller, and when Lyre spoke, his voice in the darkness felt close, intimate. “There are old stories. Stories of outworlders being summoned to our world.” I wondered vaguely if he could read my mind and pulled the blanket around me. “These outworlders were meant to fight off some great threat to the world. I never believed them. When you live with ordinary monsters, you leave fairytale monsters to the fairytales. But I’ve never heard your language before. I’ve never seen clothes like the ones you arrived in. I’ve never witnessed someone delivered to the sea in a beam of light. And I’ve never seen anyone cast the way you do.”

I wondered how obvious my otherworldliness was to everyone else on the ship. He was silent for a few moments, as though he were waiting for me to confirm or deny anything. When it was clear I wasn’t going to say anything, he continued, “If you are an outworlder… there is some reason for you to be here. And if that reason involves saving us all from something terrifying, something mythic… then our individual freedoms will mean nothing.” I felt a chill travel down my spine as he spoke, and thought of the voices again. Was that why I was here after all? “If the rest of you wish to make plans, I can’t stop you. But I would feel better if three weeks from now you stepped off this ship with a few coins in your pocket and simply walked away from here, to wherever you need to go. That would be the safest thing for you.”

I curled up on my side, staring into the darkness of the room where Lyre’s voice was coming from. Finally, I said, “I don’t think I’d feel safe without you with me.” On one hand, it felt deeply manipulative to say – but on the other hand, it was true. Lyre had become a solace to me in this world. I could speak and act like I wanted to save every slave on the ship, but I desperately wished for his freedom above all.

“Tell me about your home.”

And I told him everything, rambling late into the night, until I finally fell asleep.