Cinda Williams Chima - Stormcaster

Evan of Tarvos stood at the stern rail, his eyes fixed on the ship that had been following them for the better part of a day. The sleek three-master stayed just at the horizon, neither approaching nor losing ground. Strange. Most ships fled in a hurry when they spotted Captain Latham Strangwards stormlord standard.

People said that all of the Strangwards were true stormcastersweather magesthough Evan had never seen his captain conjure up so much as a shower. People said a lot of things, so maybe it was just a tale. Or, maybe, as he got older, Strangwards magery was fading.

Evan should have felt lucky to be crewing for a pirate whose reputation kept trouble away. But trouble looked a lot like a chance to make his name, since hed never had one of his own. Cloud Spirits hold was already overflowing with stolen goods, but he was still salivating for a fight.

Evan had been sailing before the mast for three years, since he was a ten-year, by his best guess. This year, for the first time, hed been given a share of the takings. Captain Strangward had watched with a faint smile as Evan pawed through the long strands of Sand Harbor pearls and Tamric gold glitterbits, holding them up so they caught the light, sliding rings onto his narrow fingers, slipping the gold cuffs onto his wrists. Evan favored wearables and coinportable wealth. He had no use for silver goblets or candlesticks.

When hed made his choices, he tucked them under his roughspun shirt and jammed them into his breeches pockets. He tried not to think of all the books he could buy with his portion.

You cant spend it all, he thought. Youve got to save enough to buy a piece of a venture. And go on from there. Ships were the key to a future in which he could buy all the books he wanted.

You might want me to hold your share for you, the captain said, frowning, as if now reluctant to let it go. Theres plenty in this crew would be happy to win that lot from you at cards or nicks and bones before we get to port. Or club you over the head and take it outright.

Evan pressed one hand against his shirt, protecting his stake. Tully says that a shiplord always wears his wealth. That way, anyone who means to take it has to fight you for it.

Tully is a man whos always looking for a fight, Strangward said. A man whos looking for a fight will usually find one.

Strangward was a peace-loving sort. For a pirate.

Ev. Look alive.

Startled out of his reverie, Evan turned, and Brody Baines slapped the spyglass into his hand. Captain says to lay aloft again and have another look at the ship thats been eating our wake.

Theyve kept their distance so far, Evan said, rolling his eyes. Besides, were almost home. He nodded shoreward, where the high cliffs of Tarvos smudged the horizon.

Brody was two years older than Evan and more than a foot taller, with broad shoulders, muscled arms, and a growing collection of tattoos. Evan envied Brodys shoulders, his muscles, and his burnished skin, the color of coppers that had passed through many hands. Evan felt pale as mares milk by comparison.

Maybe it wasnt exactly envy. More and more, Brody stirred feelings in Evan that were hard to ignore on a small ship during long days at sea. Captain Strangward frowned on shipboard romances because they stirred up trouble. That was not to say that they didnt happenbut if the captain got wise to it, the least valuable party would be put ashore. No doubt that would be Evan, the skinny-shanked harbor front foundling.

Which would be a waste, since Brody had made it clear that Evans feelings were not reciprocated. Reciprocated. Evan had come across that word in a book, and now worked it into every conversation. That and proclivities.

Ev! Brody said, poking him. You aint paid to daydream. Captain thinks its the Siren, by the way shes rigged. Either that or the wetland navys got itself a better shipbuilder.

The Siren? Evans heartbeat accelerated. He had heard stories about the flagship of the empress of the isles. It was a legend along the Desert Coast, though nobody had seen it for years. But. What would the empress be doing this far south?

Thats what the captain wants to know, Brody said, winking at him. Brody knew Evan itched for action. Now step lively.

Captain Strangward had an agreement with Iona, the Nazari empress of the isles. She sailed out of the Northern Islands and raided wetland traffic from Middlesea and northward, while the stormlord sailed from Tarvos and hunted from Baston Bay and southward. Deepwater Court was a free port, open to all.

Agreements between pirates never lasted very long, and, truth be told, Strangward hadnt always followed theirs to the letter. Especially since Iona was rarely seen these days anywhere along the Desert Coast.

Stuffing the glass into the waist of his breeches, Evan trotted forward to the mizzen and began to climb, his bare feet finding the ratlines as they had a hundred times before. Below, on the quarterdeck, he saw Captain Strangward conferring with Abhayi, the helmsman.

Evan climbed past the topgallant to the royal, straddled the empty yard, put the glass to his eye, and looked astern.

The other ship was a pretty thing, her lines clean and fine as those of their own Cloud Spirit. As he watched, he could see her crew scrambling over the decking, working the halyards, shaking out more sail. The mainsls luffed at first, then swallowed the wind, and she surged forward, splitting the swells like a sword through silk. It could be the Siren, Evan thought. There werent many other ships on the Indio that could match their speed. If she kept to her course, shed be coming up on them before long.

Still no colors, Captain, Evan called down. But whoever she is, well know soon enough. Shes making her move now.

Strangward planted his hands on his hips and scowled. It was not a good day for a hostile meet-up. Theyd taken a fat merchant schooner off Baston Bay. Because of that, and their other takings in the wetlands, the Spirit sat low in the waterso low that in heavy seas her gunwales were all but awash. Too tight a turn might cause them to founder.

They were thinly crewed as well. The quarrelsome quartermaster, Tully Samara, had chosen out some of their best sailors to take their prize around the Claw to Hidden Bay. There hed find a willing buyer, no questions asked, and add hard money to the split for the crew. Evan fingered the movables around his neck, wishing he had the coin to get in on the bidding.

One day, he thought, Ill have my own ship, and Ill be giving the orders. He kept his lofty perch, high above the deck, the wind whipping his hair around his face. As he watched the other ship come on, he debated what his orders would be.

Come about, the captain called to Abhayi. He looked up, searching until he found Evan still clinging to the rigging. Boy, go down and help Samuel ready the twenty-four-pounders so we can give them a proper welcome if they go foolish on us.

Strangward always called him boy, and this was beginning to get under Evans skin. Im not a boy, Evan thought. Im nearly grown.