“Yes,” he said, not turning to look at him. “I was planning to tell you along with the rest of the crew today, which I did.”
Cormac grunted, “Why north? What are you planning?”
“I don’t know,” Doraan whispered honestly. He didn’t know where they were headed. He didn’t really have an actual plan or destination in mind. All he knew was that they needed to go North, somewhere that they tended to stay away from due to the cold and rough seas. But it was rumored that any surviving Sorcerers after the rebellion had fled from the South, seeking refuge in the hidden crevices of the Emerald Peaks, and back alleys of the smaller northern cities. Doraan thought that if a surviving Sorcerer was tucked away somewhere, they could help break the bloody curse that had been cast over them, and finally go home for good. It was a shot in the dark, but it was the only idea he had.
“Doraan, there is only one way to break the curse,” Cormac said as if reading his thoughts.
“I gave up on that option a long time ago. There has to be another way.”
Ten years ago, when Forcina had cursed Doraan, along with every person on this ship, she had woven a way out of it through her twisted words, but it was so astronomically absurd that he had never given it a second thought. It couldn’t be done. She had created the most impractical act possible to assure he could never break free.
Doraan finally spun on Cormac, ready to offer a few terse words of annoyance, when he caught his Quartermaster squinting up to the crow’s nest. Doraan followed his gaze to where Zev still sat, staring out at the expanse of sea around them.
“Have you found anything out about the boy?” Cormac questioned.
“No, I haven’t really had another chance. Have you?”
Cormac shook his head. “I thought about it last night, but I didn’t want to scare him off.”
“I think we should give him another day or two before we start grilling him, but he is definitely hiding something. I don’t like it.”
“He’s here for a reason. It could be that the sea blessed us after our loss, or it could be something more sinister.”
Doraan raised a single brow and glared at Cormac, “What the bloody sails is that supposed to mean?”
“Everything happens for a reason, Doraan.”
Doraan only glared at him harder, crossing his arms over his chest. “ Sometimes you are completely unbearable to be around. It’s your turn to man the helm. I’m going to rest before my shift tonight.”
Cormac only nodded in his casual, stoic way. Doraan smirked, shaking his head at the old man.
He proceeded to the main deck, turning to head down into the hull, but risked a quick glance at Zev once more before descending. The boy was sitting on the edge of the platform, his legs dangling through the railing slats, swinging as he made strange movements with his hands.
Doraan’s brows drew together as he watched. What in all the realm was he doing? This boy was not an ordinary one, and tomorrow he would question the strange kid until he gave him a straight answer. Zev continued flicking his hands as if no one could see him. Doraan snorted and sighed before heading down to his room.
Doraan brought a hand up, rubbing at the back of his neck. He really needed to solidify a plan. Sailing North wasn’t enough. Finding a Sorcerer in Emmoria was comparable to finding a diamond in the desert sands of the South—highly unlikely. And the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he even wanted to find another Sorcerer. He hadn’t had much luck with the first one he’d met.
When he was in school in Aksahri, he learned about the Ungifted Rebellion, the Sorcerer’s massacre, and the aftermath. By the time Doraan was born, it had been fourteen years since the Sorcerers were overthrown and nearly annihilated. There were almost none left, and any that were discovered throughout the realm were either shot or hung up in the city centers alongside any Ungifted who had aided them. It was a power play, a fear tactic to keep all of Emmoria in line and help the Emperor eradicate every last Sorcerer left.
Doraan was sixteen the first time he’d met a Sorcerer. For all of his life, he had been told of their evil, malicious ways—how they enslaved the Ungifted for hundreds of years, forced them to do their bidding, and whipped and maimed them for sport. His father had been the slave of the Sorcerer Emperor who was overthrown and had ultimately taken his place as Emperor of the realm.
But his mother had told him a completely different story. She told him of the Sorcerers’ compassion, how they used their power to help. There were even some who were able to heal the sick and wounded. They weren’t all dishonorable, she would say, there were many who treated the Ungifted as equals rather than as servants or slaves. Many had given the Ungifted true and honest work, working alongside Sorcerers rather than beneath them. It was only in Aksahri and the larger cities where the Ungifted had truly been miserable.
He didn’t know what to believe. On one hand, his mother was the one person he trusted more than anyone in the realm, but on the other, every school text and person he knew in Aksahri thought they were terrible creatures of power whose only goal in life was to harm and enslave the Ungifted.
So, on his sixteenth birthday when a Sorcerer showed up out of thin air, he hadn’t known what to expect, but he should have known they weren’t there for pleasantries. No, Forcina had come for revenge. He witnessed firsthand the true power of a Sorcerer and it was fearsome indeed.
He only caught bits and pieces of what she said to his father, but the next thing he knew, he was in the west docks of Aksahri on a strange black ship with seventeen men as clueless as he was. And when one of them tried to disembark only to be thrown back onto the ship by an invisible force, and then another, and a third, Doraan realized what the words Forcina had spoken meant. Her lyrical idiom had solidified his fate and the fates of the seventeen men, weaving them together. They had been cursed by a powerful Sorcerer, and that was the moment that Doraan made his mind up about them all. Theywereevil and they deserved to perish, just like his father said.
He would find a Sorcerer, force them to break the curse, and then kill them before heading home to continue his father’s work of eradicating the realm of every Sorcerer left alive.
8
Kamira
Ithadbeenalong day.
Kamira spent hours keeping watch in the crow’s nest and baking under the relentless, blazing rays of the sun. After being called down, she was given food and water before being tasked with the exhausting job of swabbing the deck.
