In book four of the Torrent Skies Saga, Kryrial is scouring the lands, tormenting not only the people of his kingdom but those outside of it. His reach is nearly as vast as his ability.
Lodyne continues her insistence that she is the purpose of Kat...
Jon set off in the morning. It was so early the sun had hardly risen and even the birds were reticent to chirp. The ocean water was frigid and his breath frosted as he called out orders to his meager crew.The group was small, but so was the ship, and small did not mean bad.
He had, with some fit of luck, won a card game and with it, an assortment of Meadalark weapons, all of which were bolted neatly to his ships deck, ready to defend it should the need arise. Now, he thought, all I've to do is get those stubborn shanty singers to bet one of their ships.
This ship had been made in Uhrwest, originally, and it was fine enough. More than fit for his purpose. It would get him to Luminya and back, if he was careful. But it was not a Meadalark vessel. Nothing could match those.
Jon was not from Luminya but he would be dammed if Errwood bay were to fall without him present to stop it. It had always treated him well. And he had to do something. He felt uneasy, in Itrea. It was nice to sit at the inn or Katerin's manor and drink the day away, but it was not all that fulfilling. There was an itching in his mind that idleness could not relieve.
Maybe that was Katerin's fault. She had been more than a little grumpy, lately, though he supposed he could understand. But if she was idle, well, maybe she could feel better knowing he was not.
So while Katerin healed and worried around the manor, he had set up this small crew and put his mind to work. He had heard a rumor that Errwood bay would be separating from land, and while the notion of stopping its destruction was reward enough, seeing the city float had been a dream for years. As long as he could remember, anyway. Something about the notion seemed enchanting, despite that there was little magic involved. He supposed two birds with one stone was the best a man could ask for, after all. Unless he happened to meet a woman. That could be even better.
But, that was likely asking for too much.
He smiled at the shore as the last tow lines were hauled up. Frosted sand was a beautiful sight, with ice crystals forming small and intricate worlds between its granules. Once the final sack of provisions was secured, he gave the order and the ship turned, making its way out of O'siaris' docks and into a deep blue that was nearly blinding in the frosted morning light.
It was a deep blue he adored.
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Days passed, and Katerin's wrist did not improve, even with Arjiah's help. The cloudy winter weather was becoming gloomy to Katerin but she knew the gloom was not the winter's fault. She and Arjiah sat in the lounge before the hearth and listened to the storm outside, as wind howled.
Arjiah offered her a sympathetic look. "Well, the good news is that it is better than it was, dear. And he did not kill you."
Katerin let out a snort, her thoughts cynical. "You think me just as much of a fool as everyone else, don't you?"
