Waters of Salt and Sin: Uncommon World Book One Read online

  “We’re going to change our caste.” I released a glance like an arrow at Calev.

  The wind lashed a few loose strands of hair against my cheeks as Calev frowned, thinking. The sun glowed through the sail’s dark purple fabric, casting a shadow like a bruise. Calev’s tanned hand perched on my shoulder and his frown morphed into a grin.

  “Are we becoming the pirates we always wished to be? If so, you probably should’ve brought a few more weapons. Maybe a monkey. I always wanted a monkey.”

  Avi laughed and chewed her braid. Fifteen was too old for hair-chewing, but I wasn’t going to talk her out of any childlike habits. She could do as she liked as long as it made her happy in this harsh world.

  Oron crawled out of the hull. “Flying Seastingers, people. Must you squawk like birds? What do you have against a man taking a well-deserved nap?”

  Calev fought a smile and ran a sun-browned hand over Avi’s hair. “Well-deserved, Oron? Don’t tell me you’ve been sneaking around doing kind things for the masses?”

  Oron grabbed for a skin of wine at his sash. As a dwarf, and three hands shorter than Avi, Oron had to look up into Calev’s face. “There are more ways than one to deserve a nap.” He took a hefty swallow of his stolen beverage. “Kindness to others is one, yes. But you must also consider the pursuit of a pleasant life as a valid goal. Don’t you agree?”

  “We have big things to discuss, Oron,” I snapped. “Perhaps naps should wait for nightfall.” I gave him half a grin.

  “Sorry, my dear. But night is reserved for actual sleeping.”

  “Why I put up with you is the world’s greatest mystery.”

  “Here I thought the mystery was whatever you all were discussing so very, very loudly.” Oron plucked what appeared to be a rumpled golden dumpling from his sash and handed it to Avi. I wondered who he’d stolen that from.

  Oron gave me a look that reeked of suspicion. “What was this about monkeys and pirates? If you’re planning a celebration with said folk, I’m in.”

  “It’s us who are the pirates, she says.” Avi grinned.

  I shook my head. “Not pirates. We’re treasure hunters.” That wasn’t quite right either. “No, not hunters, really. We won’t need to hunt. I know the way. We’re going to retrieve a map to the lost island of silver.”

  Calev and Avi’s mouths fell open, and Oron simply stared.

  I nudged Calev aside to take my place at the tiller. “Ayarazi exists, and we are going to be the ones to claim it.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Oron’s wide brow furrowed. He rammed a thick finger into his ear and jiggled it. “Did I hear her correctly?” He looked from me to Calev.

  “Old Zayn told me where to find a map to Ayarazi.”

  Oron blinked. “When will I learn that a day with Kinneret Raza is never dull?”

  The wind lagged, then gusted. The sail snapped grouchily as we rose over a swell and dipped down again.

  Oron hurried to adjust the sail, his skilled hands moving faster and more sure on the line than anyone I’d ever seen on the water. When he’d first come to work for me, right after the fever took Mother and Father, I’d known he was a special person because who would offer to work for basically nothing? Only the kindest of souls. I almost felt like he’d adopted Avi and me. I hadn’t known then how amazing he was with the sails. I sure as Fire knew now and I’d never let him go.

  Calev clutched the boat’s side, his knuckles whitening. “What are you talking about?” He was a little green around the lips.

  I gave him the tiller and brought him my skin of ginger water. “The lost island of silver.”

  “But that’s not a real place.” Avi’s throat bobbed as she looked down the road of water at the rocks like broken-down carts. The biggest of the obstacles were Tall Man and the Spires.

  “I heard it is,” I said.

  Calev took a swig from my water skin. “From who?”

  “Zayn.”

  Calev grinned. “So the kind, but seriously very crazy old man realized how much you’d adore a chance of riches with a side of possible death and/or mutilation and offered this information.”

  Oron tipped his head. “Nicely put. Only brushes with Death himself satiate our Kinneret here.”

  I shrugged them off. “It’s not all that risky.”

  Calev squinted at the sun and held out the water skin to me. “At least this insane adventure is happening during the day.”

  Avi shook her head, all cynicism and muttering. “It’s still dangerous.” She eyed the upcoming black shapes jutting from the sea.

  “We never come close to hitting those rocks, Avi,” I said.

  “Your idea of close is oceans away from mine,” she hissed as I took the tiller to navigate.

  As we dodged Tall Man, the boat’s lee side heeled a bit more than I liked. I pulled the tiller windward, balancing her out.

  “Even if it was night, Calev,” I said, “we have the lantern’s magic.”

  The domed and vented object sat behind me, lodged in a space between the tiller’s housing and the side. I ran an absent hand over its glass surface. Father had made the lantern from a high-caste’s discarded vase, and Mother had taught us how to weave the special wick. For as long as I’d been alive, the combination of the two had kept us safe from the Salt Wraiths, the evil spirits of those who’d died at sea.

  “Lanterns aren’t magic,” Calev argued. “They’re science. It’s proven their light repels the wraiths. But repelling isn’t always enough. Wraiths can be smart.”

  I ignored his all-too-common, close-minded view on the line between religion, magic, and science. To me, they were just different words for the same thing.

  “Mother wouldn’t have let this opportunity go by,” I whispered, more to myself than to them. Berker’s ridiculous slur about her being a liar wafted around like a bad smell.

  Avi’s steady gaze flicked to me. Her eyes were focused like she was about to pounce and rip my throat out. Mother and Father had always called it her lion look. She might not have been so good with Salt Magic, but my sister had her strengths. Determination being one of them.

  “But we don’t need an island of silver,” she said.

  “Speak for yourselves, dear friends,” Oron said. “I need all the silver to do all the joyous things.” He spun in a circle, jumping once and wiggling his backside.

  Calev jerked his chin. “I’m with Avi. You don’t need riches. Kinneret, someday you’ll be the most successful small craft sailor on the Broken Coast.”

  If I didn’t starve first. “Yeah. A successful ant in a field of horses,” I muttered. “You don’t know what it’s like to have people push in front of you. To be refused service at the market because of bells.”

  To watch the boy you love be promised to a girl only because of her caste.

  Maybe Miriam would be eaten by wolves on her northern trade trip with her father.

  Calev frowned and glanced at Avi. I let the matter drop and smiled at the thought of Miriam running from very hairy, very toothy beasts.

  To lessen our speed, we worked the halyard’s pulleys and lowered the spar holding the sail aloft. After a good bit of tiller work and a few prods to the rocks with our poles, we made it through the Spires. Water splashed over the deck and wet our feet as I watched for the next obstacle—Asag’s Door, a powerful eddy that had definitely earned its spirit-monster name. Another scattering of barely visible rocks sat at its end.

  Not a league ahead, a sweep of lighter water showed where the door’s current swept southward.

  “The map lies near Quarry Isle.” My voice came out louder than I’d wanted. “It’s under a teardrop-shaped current.”

  Oron faced me, frowning, then looked around the boat, like he was searching for something. I rolled my eyes skyward at his drama.

  “Where is your note of permission to pass from the oramiral?” he asked, blinking his big eyes.

  The oramiral was the kyros’s second cousin and totally and completely
mad. The kyros let him reign over Quarry Isle and forced our amir to put up with the way he treated the slaves she took in wars with borderlands. It was a kink in the caste system, to be sure. Slavery was meant to prove mettle, not destroy the body and mind. It was an honor to have served. Only pure bloodlines of the desert race and the respected Old Farms were permitted to thrive outside the system.

  “Did the amir herself give you leave?” Oron demanded. “Or perhaps, her new kaptan, Berker?”

  “You heard about that?”

  “When I’m not languishing in the arms of Lady Grape, I get around.” He tweaked his ears with his fingertips. “These are not merely fantastic ornaments on my gruesome head.”

  My gaze traced the familiar lines around his mouth and the tilt of his eyes. I remembered, four years ago, when those eyes noticed the gaff break from the mast. He’d caught most of the sail and its support before it could land on Avi’s small frame. He was the reason she could still walk.

  “You aren’t ugly,” I said to Oron.

  “Definitely not,” Avi said.

  “Not the point of this discussion, my dears.”

  Calev smiled. “Oron, your face is nothing less than legendary.”

  I glared at Calev.

  “Don’t aim those vicious eyes at him.” Oron grinned.

  “I didn’t intend it as an insult,” Calev said.

  “Of course not,” Oron said. “I like legendary. Makes me feel as if I really do belong on a boat with a madwoman who insists on sailing to an island born from the dreams of sailors.”

  The ancient wine jug was there, hidden under the water. I could feel it in the salt hiding under my nails and flaking from my cheeks.

  “So we’re simply going to sail right up under the oramiral’s nose to the spot near the slave island where the goat man indicated and snatch some map?” Oron asked.

  Avi made her way to my side, her eyes searching mine.

  “It shouldn’t be in the oramiral’s waters,” I said.

  “A teardrop current?” Oron scratched at his tangled hair. “I know the place. It’s dangerously close to his disgusting Quarry Isle. I’d argue it’s past the boundary.”

  I always stayed well away from that section of the Pass. There were plenty of ways to ship goods and passengers from our lands, across the waters, and back again without nearing Quarry Isle.

  “It’ll be fine, Oron. We won’t cross the boundary.”

  “But if you’re wrong, and we do, he might not honor your bells. Or the fact that you’re my employer. In fact, he’ll surely nab me since I have no bells at all and am pretty obviously not Old Farm or of the desert race.” He displayed a pale arm with a flourish.

  “I said it’s fine. We’re staying in the free waters. No one will become a slave today.”

  Oron huffed and held his hands to the Fire. “As Kinneret wills, so shall the world move.”

  Avi chewed at the end of her braid, her eyes worried. She had to keep her nerve. I had to make this move.

  Calev tapped his chin. “Avi, it’ll be a few until we get there. Want to play?” He held up his hand and wiggled his fingers.

  I mouthed a thank you as they began playing tally win. They waved hands over their laps and stopped at a count of ten. Calev displayed seven fingers, Avi two.

  If I didn’t change Avi’s caste, along with mine, she’d lose Calev and it’d be like losing a brother. As he smiled at her, I knew he felt the same way about her. She was the sister he didn’t have at home.

  “Ah ha.” Avi clapped once, but her eyes stayed tight, her lips pinched in worry. She pointed at Calev’s fingers. “That’s nine. Odd. My choice. You owe me a lemon slice.”

  “After all our suns playing games, I owe you lemons enough to fill the Pass,” Calev said.

  Avi worked at a laugh. “If we find the island of silver, I’ll build a castle for my fruit. Everyday you can visit and play tally win and drink lemon honey wine.”

  “Paradise,” Calev, Oron, and I said in unison.

  Avi smiled, enjoying our ongoing joke. She came up with wild imaginings and we judged them either hells or paradises.

  “A pirate ship filled with monkeys,” she said.

  “Hells,” we responded.

  “A silver gilt pirate ship only slightly crowded with tiny monkeys who smell like flowers and obey our every command.”

  “Paradise!”

  Oron looked to his sandals, smiling, and adjusted the josi line so the sail captured more wind. Avi went to help or really, it seemed, just to lean a little on Oron. He patted her arm, then squeezed it gently, and the shadows around his eyes deepened.

  I kept my hand on the worn wood of the tiller, willing everyone to stay positive.

  Eyeing the direction we headed, Calev brought his knees to his chin. His sandals, hidden beneath the drape of his tunic, ground salt and dirt into the decking as he fidgeted.

  “The men on the slave island would’ve already found underwater clues to Ayarazi if there were any,” he said quietly. “The oramiral used a hundred of his prisoners to scour the sea floor when they first sent him down.”

  From what I’d heard of the man who ran the quarries, he wore his honorary military title oramiral with a killing sneer. What had he done for the kyros to garner that cushy post?

  “I don’t think the oramiral knew what he was looking for.” And I did.

  Frowning, Calev turned toward me, then rubbed at his stomach and swallowed.

  Poor thing. The Lord of the Harvest humbled. “We’re looking for a wine jug.” I dragged my gaze from the angle of his sharp chin and back to the sea.

  From the front of the boat, Avi held a hand up to block the sun gliding over the green waves and soaking the air.

  A spray of water soared over us. “It holds a map.”

  “Who knew a wine jug could be put to even better use than its original purpose? Color me impressed.” Oron’s words were as sour as those lemons Calev owed Avi.

  “Kinneret!” Calev jumped up. “The rocks!”

  I growled and jerked the tiller, bumping him back and out of my way.

  The rocks churned the water, whitening it to the color of a wraith’s shadow. I’d missed my mark, and we needed to reverse course and go around Asag’s Door the other way. The tiller fought me.

  “Avi, ready to jib!”

  When Avi, Oron, and I had hands on the sheet’s lines, and Calev was at the tiller again, I kicked the knot holding the sheet in place. It slipped from its wooden knob and the sheet ran through our hands. The sail whipped up.

  “Pull the tiller to starboard,” I commanded Calev.

  “But won’t that—”

  “Do it.”

  He did, and when the sail’s tip flashed over the spar, we tugged the sheet and brought the sail into place. The pouch at my belt was heavy with salt. If this didn’t work, I had options. Magical ones. I didn’t want to use Salt Magic around Calev, but if worse came to worse…

  We made it around the eddy and its rocks. Avi tugged her sash back into place and her bells jingled.

  Calev sucked a breath. “That was…exciting.”

  “Please don’t vomit,” Oron said, edging a step away. “High-caste food stains.”

  I squeezed the tiller, wishing Oron had a much, much smaller mouth.

  A ship appeared, and unfortunately, it didn’t look like it was harmlessly toting lemons and wine.

  “Did we pass the mark?” Oron’s voice was wary.

  Beyond Oron’s head, sails the hue of sickness rose like the wings of an ancient flying lizard. The craft moved at a speed I’d never know unless I found Ayarazi and its silver.

  Avi rushed over and handed me the spyglass. Through the tube, I saw a tall man at the prow. His yellow tunic billowed over his broad shoulders. I went cold all over. Was it the oramiral? He was rumored to be as handsome as he was cruel. His closest men were supposedly chosen for their height, so maybe it was only them and not their master.

  “They’re only running t
o the coast. They’re not interested in us.” My pulse ratcheted up.

  Oron’s song went slow and quiet. Calev put a hand on Avi’s back in a brotherly way.

  I adjusted our course, watching my sail and those of the oramiral’s boat.

  Calev pulled his dagger from the silver sheath hanging from his green sash.

  No. Today was a lucky day. I had Calev. “It’s not necessary,” I said.

  The dagger wasn’t bigger than my hand and its hilt and sharp edge were decorated in intricate calligraphy. This was a piece of jewelry, not a weapon. Old Farms were known for their skills with daggers, but it was about ceremony, not killing. Calev was an innocent. And by the Fire, today would not be the day he saw blood.

  “They only want to know why we’re here,” I said.

  Avi trembled against me. “Shouldn’t we try to sail away from them?”

  “We couldn’t outrun them on my best day, Sister.” I wiggled the bells on her sash, then shook the ones on my own red one. “We remember so they remember.”

  It was the old line. If one’s family had served, one should not have to serve again. It was respectful to have been a slave, then rise to middle or high-caste. Falling into slavery again was seen as a complete and total failure. A failure to rise, to survive, to swim strong in life on the Broken Coast.

  Was there any chance the oramiral would hold to the old line?

  Closing his eyes, Calev inhaled, his chest rising and falling. Oron pinched his lips together.

  What would Father or Mother have done? I ran a finger over the sickle-shaped scar on my forearm—all that was left from the fever blisters that made my sister and I ill, but stole life from my parents.

  A spot two fingers past our view of the oramiral’s ship undulated with an odd current. “There it is.”

  Was the oramiral’s ship getting closer? Or were they turning her?

  Something stung my ear and I touched my lobe. My fingers came away bloody. An arrow.

  “They fired on us!”

  The arrow had missed me, going into the sea.

  Oron swore and everyone ducked low.

  “It was just a warning shot,” I said.

  Everything was going to be fine. It had to be. My blood shushed through my veins.