The Deepest Blue(35)

“Forgive me,” Mayara said quickly, eyeing the spirit’s sharp beak.

“It’s true, though,” Palia said. “Don’t regret speaking the truth.”

Heir Sorka shared her glare with Palia as well, but the older woman just stared right back. “Maybe in other lands like Aratay and Chell, heirs aren’t important. In those other lands, they’re spares in case the queen falters,” Sorka said. “But here on Belene, our queen must use all her power to keep the worst of the wild ones at bay, which leaves the daily protection of the islands to us. That’s why the test is so rigorous: because we must each be strong enough to face the task at hand. This test will weed out the weak and unworthy.” Sorka positioned herself directly in front of Mayara, her nose only inches away. “Are you weak and unworthy, newbie?”

Mayara wondered what Sorka would do if she said yes.

But she was saved from answering by Roe, who spoke up. “Heir Sorka? Do you think we have a chance, if we train hard enough?”

“There’s always a chance, Spirit Snack. Follow me . . . if you can.” Sorka strode back to her bird, mounted, and flew over their heads so low that they had to duck. She then swooped up and between the rocky peaks.

All three of them stared after her.

“Um, by follow her, does she mean . . . ?” Mayara began.

“I think she does,” Roe said. “It’s either fly or walk.”

“Exactly how are we supposed to do this?” Mayara asked. So far, every interaction she’d ever had with a spirit had focused on keeping them from killing her. She’d never had any desire to ride one. Still didn’t.

Three air spirits circled them. Mayara felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Larger than any natural creature, they looked like skeletons carved out of shiny black volcanic rock. Their wings were thin gossamer, like a dragonfly’s, and they circled twice before they glided to a landing on the dock.

“I am not flying on a spirit,” Mayara said firmly. She’d dive into a leviathan’s skull, stay submerged beyond her limits, and brave the dangers of the sea, but she was not climbing on the back of Death and allowing it to carry her into the sky.

“It does seem like a terrible idea,” Palia agreed.

The three Silent Ones each climbed on, though. Holding on to the spirit’s vertebrae necks, they soared upward. They circled above the three spirit sisters, clearly intending to fly above them—or with them, if they chose to summon their own spirits and fly.

No. This test might kill her, but it wasn’t going to turn her into someone she was not, and she was not someone who played with spirits. Besides, even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t know how.

“I think it’s a nice day for a walk,” Mayara said.

Roe nodded. Despite her determined optimism, she was clearly just as unsettled as Mayara and Palia. “We’ll stick together. A team, right?”

Palia eased herself off the crate and eyed the rock formation. Mayara wondered how much stamina the older woman had—was it fair to ask her to hike? On the other hand, what choice do we have? Fly or walk. That was it. Lousy choices. Just like the two terrible choices that had led her here: heir or Silent One.

They began to hike, watching the three circling Silent Ones all the while.

Palia began to pant halfway up the rocks. Noticing, Mayara slowed her pace, trying to make it seem like she was not slowing her pace.

“You don’t need to dawdle,” Palia said behind her. “I can see what you’re doing, and it’s not necessary. Do you think the spirits will take pity on me because I spent most of my life sitting at a loom?”

“You’re a weaver?” Mayara asked.

“I made sails,” Palia said. “Wove the sail that our Lord Maarte used on his ship, not that he knew it. He paid me a pretty penny for it too. It funded half my daughter’s education.” She panted and groaned less when she talked. Maybe the distraction is good for her. Certainly it was helping Mayara avoid thinking about whether or not Kelo lived.

“Tell us about your daughter,” Mayara said.

Palia went on to describe a young woman about Mayara’s age, who was, by Palia’s account, the smartest, most accomplished, most talented, most extraordinary woman ever to grace the islands. She planned to study the tides at the university. As Palia talked, she moved faster, taking the lead. “Shame of it is she won’t be able to finish her studies, not without the money I earned us to pay for housing and food. If I’d had another few years to support her . . . But it wasn’t meant to be.”

“If you become an heir, you’ll be able to support her again,” Roe pointed out. The families of heirs received a steady stipend, to compensate for any lost wages due to the heir’s absence.

“If,” Palia echoed. “Face it: I’m fodder.”

“You don’t know that,” Roe said.

Palia heaved herself up onto a peak and stared down the other side. “Yes, I do. Once you show power, you’re either a hero or dead. And I’m no hero.”

Mayara was about to say something when she caught up to her, but instead she—like the other two—could only gawk.

In the valley, women were riding on spirits, leaving cyclones in their wake that ripped trees from their roots. An earth spirit formed from boulders hefted one woman on his shoulder and then bent down and tore a crevasse open in the earth. Another woman stood in a ring of fire, her arms spread wide and her mouth open in a scream.