The heat of blaze shone down on her bare face. No veils any longer, no ridiculous pretence of hiding from the sun. Her hands sank into the coarse sand, her feet already bare and part buried. The sky was a clear blue, with small gusts of sea breeze rising from the gently lapping water.

It should have been her wedding in two days. Yet here she was, still in Aramane as the heat baked the city streets. She could feel the skin of her face begin to dry and she couldn’t help but smile as she tilted her head back and enjoyed its touch upon pale features. Dressed in a loose linen shirt, the curve of her middle remained hidden. Even such an advanced state of her pregnancy, Elyna had been blessed that the baby seemed to remain petite. Dark brown trousers had been rolled to the knee, her shirt sleeves pushed back to the elbow. She wore a single piece of jewellery, a ring tied to a cord around her neck. Tucked beneath the collar of her shirt, it hung between a more generous bosom than she was used to.

Long hair curled in the wind, escaping the braid that had held it. She heard shouting in the distance and sat up, resting her wrists on her knees. She wasn’t far from the docks, and had been watching a number of ships. One in particular had caught her attention. She would have bet her name it had been built in Burhan. She recognised its lines, it’s mast. It had clearly been sold on from Renmere, renamed, repainted and repurposed. But it was a ship from her homeland.

She watched a boy, swaying at the top of the rigging and shook her head. Without much thought, the woman stood and dusted off her hands. She crossed the sand, purposeful and used a stack of barrels to climb up onto the deck. A brief search of the planks revealed what was needed and the woman bent, pulling a loop of rope cross her shoulder. She moved to the main mast, set her hands and started to climb. The boy, a thin faced youth with wide blue eyes peered down at her in surprise before finally relief as she tossed the line of rope up to him with a smile.

Elyna, anchored her feet to the rigging and looped an arm around a higher knot as she directed the child above her. Explaining the proper way to tie off the mainsail. First, he had forgotten the lead rope, second the way he’d started off, the moment it had hit a storm the entire sail would have been at risk of unfurling and flying away.

‘Thank you miss!’ The boy called down.

She lifted a hand in a small wave and shifted her feet, starting her descent from the half-way point.

‘What’s your name?’ He almost fell out the crows nest and she laughed. It felt good to laugh.

‘Ely,’ she smiled to herself, watching where she was going. ‘Just call me Ely.’ Now she was looking down, she’d been hit with the sudden awareness of her body, reminded anew that she should be careful. More careful than this. Her feet back on the deck, the woman took a deep breath. She pulled a bandana from her pocket and tied it around her head. Anything to hide the sudden trembling of her hands. That had been stupid, it had been reckless and she had risked her babe. All the blood seemed to pool in her middle and she lifted a hand, to grip the rigging again, before she could fall over.

‘You alright miss?’ The boy lent out again.

‘Fine…’ Elyna nodded quickly, it was just the kind of stupid thing Emily would have stopped her doing. But Emily was no longer in Aramane. It was the kind of thing that would have made Malcolm angry, but she hadn’t seen him since he’d left either.

How many times had she thought to write to him? Only to realise that anything she wanted to say was quickly lost to anger, hurt and frustration. If she couldn’t say something nice she should say nothing at all. Lest she say something she would regret.

The woman straightened slowly, taking care to steady her breathing.

The boy shimmied down the ropes with a speed she could only envy. ‘How’d you know so much about this ship, Miss Ely?’

‘It was made in Burhan, my home land.’ Ely looked up then, setting her hand to the mast. ‘I was there when all of this was put together,’ she smiled to herself.

“And do what?”

“Follow her,” Yvan said.

“Until?” Yvan crossed his arms. Perhaps some found the man intimidating, Wendell thought, but not him.

“Until I’m satisfied that I know why she’s here,” Yvan said, and it sounded like an order. Wendell got the sense that he was a man who was used to giving orders.

“By which face?”

“Whichever you’re most comfortable wearing.” Yvan scratched his chin, reaching through his thick beard to do so. “You’ll want to keep your identity concealed,” Yvan warned. “She’s of noble blood where she hails from, that will mean your head if you slip up.”

Wendell scoffed. “They won’t catch me.”

“I need to know who she is here with, the locations she frequents, the reason she is in Aramane—“

“—Right, right,” Wendell stopped him there. “You want me to shadow a noblewoman at the sake of my skin for the price of one ship—“

“—and crew,” Yvan interrupted.

“…And crew, that will see me safe home.”

“Which is?”

“None of your concern,” Wendell replied, smirking and thinking himself very clever.


It had been a week since the captain had given his orders and all Wendell had managed to find out was that Elyna Burhan liked sitting in sun rooms, drinking tea and stitching tiny creatures into fabric. He knew this because to get close enough, he himself had found cause to don the mask of a tiny animal in order to scamper through the house unseen. This was the first time Elyna had stepped outside unaccompanied and he had been able to follow her in a much more comfortable suit of magic.

The red, yellow eyed eagle, native to Crixus—though few outside of the region knew that—glided through the air over the docks, watching the woman as she climbed towards the crows nest. It wasn’t until she returned to the deck of the ship that he chose to land, perching on the end of one of the yard-arms. He watched her for a time, considering all the while, how best to gather the information Yvan required, which would win him his ticket home. He was not to use his own face but there was one he knew almost as well…


Marsilla stepped out onto the deck from the captains quarters, her skirts brushing the planks as she crossed them. She had dark skin and jet black hair that she wore plaited away from her face. Her eyes were a vivid shade of green, with hints of yellow in the sunlight. Gilded in Nejem trinkets and chains that rustled and chimed as she moved, the woman was impossible not to notice. Small golden bell decorated the loose brackets she wore about her wrists and ankles and a pair of full lips were painted a light shape of plum. Her nose was long and slender with a handsome shape and her jawline was very defined. She looked as if she had just stepped out of one of the sand temples in Nejem, her accent thick but clear.

“You’re lost, my lady?”

The boy, wise to the temperament of his captain had soon grinned at Elyna and returned to repairing the rigging atop the crows nest. She has watched him going with a longing, and knew that she should depart. With the gentle sway of the deck though, she placed her hands on the sun-warmed railing and stared out to sea. With the docks behind her, the lines creaking and the light splash of waves on the shore, Elyna could have sworn she was anywhere in the world. With her face tilted to the sun, she could be in Nejem, in happier times.

Movement at the cabin caught her eye and she stared for a breath at the woman who emerged. She smiled, the broad grin spreading across her features, maybe she truly was in Nejem. Until the woman spoke and the expression vanished just as quickly. Elyna glanced down at her simple clothes and sand covered toes. She had hoped not to mark herself as a member of nobility, but the quality of cloth must have given her away.

‘I-‘ she stumbled over her thoughts, her gaze shifting back from the sea, to the land where a small collection of footmen and guards were clustered at the edge of the docks, watching anxiously as the Queen of Renmere placed herself in potential peril under their watch.

She released an uneasy breath and forced herself to smile at the woman, though the motion only pulled at the corners of her mouth.

‘My apologies, I couldn’t resist visiting this ship,’ she trailed her fingertips across the woodgrain. ‘It was built in my homeland,‘ she explained quickly, ‘I spent a number of seasons climbing all over her, whilst she was under construction.’ Elyna swallowed then, ‘if I have overstepped, Captain then you have my apologies and I will take my leave.’ She bowed her head a little. The woman who had approached seemed all business, with the guards out of earshot and watching from a distance, Elyna couldn’t help the thrill of nervousness that tracked down her spine. Why was she always so stupid?

“Captain?” Marsilla smiled. Wendell had always found her a little intimidating. He was glad that others saw her in the same light. “Now that would be a fine step up from my current duties.” Her smile was pulled into an amused smirk then. She crossed her arms, the trinkets on her chains and bands singing again.

Marsilla cast her eye over the ship, as if for the first time, and tried to imagine the noble woman calling it home. “The sea runs in your veins,” she said. It was something Marsilla would have said, she who was gifted with foresight. “You’re far from home then,” she added. “What brings you to Aramane?”

The boy in the crows nest leaned out over the side, curious to know what the pair were talking about. “Almost finished up here he called.”

Marsilla looked up. “Good!” She called back. “Go in and wash up before you get something to eat.”

The woman turned her attention back to Elyna. “We are here for repairs before heading home to Nejem. Our captain has plans to stop in Renmere to take back a shipment of wine. They say the region of Venora makes the best wine in all of Noar, but don’t tell the people of Oakley that.” She play-whispered the last part.

The woman’s response was enough to see Elyna relax. She weighted her hip against the rail, resting on an elbow. No longer believing that she was going to be thrown off the ship her cautious smile returned. ‘Maybe the Sea, maybe centuries of ship building,’ she replied amused. Her own gaze lingered on the mast. Elyna enjoyed travelling by ship and the freedom it afforded. But still, a ship was tethered to the ocean in a way Volarean or Jacadon were not.

Her gaze lingered on the boy as he made his rapid descent, following his orders.

‘I just liked the chance to stand in the rigging,’ Elyna admitted, ‘to pretend I was free to sail the world.’ She continued but more to herself, considering her thoughts. It always came back to freedom.

The woman let out a slow sigh and let her childhood dream slip away. There was little freedom in the life of a Queen and power was something she had never desired.

Why was she here? Elyna shook her head a little. It was far too long a story and not one that she would share with a stranger, ‘a chance to see more of the world than my own home,’ she looked back at the woman then. It was true enough, Elyna hated to lie. Even to someone she didn’t know.

‘I’ve heard of good wine coming from Andaris,’ she confided as the conversation evolved, ‘though I can’t admit that I’ve partaken much in Aramane,’ she pressed her free hand to her side then, her shirt pulling back against the advanced curve of her middle. ‘I miss Nejem, I’ve spent a number of seasons in the deserts, more than most. You must be excited to return home for a while.’

“You’ve visited Nejem?” Marsilla asked, not surprised but seemingly comforted by the fact. “It is a dangerous place, which makes it all the more beautiful in my experience. I cannot wait to return and see my children,” she said, looking then to the swell of Elyna’s belly. “I see you are expecting. Is this your first?” Marsilla smiled. “You’ll see far less of the world with a little one to care for—but perhaps you have seen enough?”

Wendell thought, had he not been captured and brought to the edge of the world, he might have seen far less of it himself. Nejem was closer than ever and yet it felt so far away. As Marsilla looked off into the distance, lost in thought, it was only then she saw the small troop of guards. She straightened as if made uncomfortable by the sight. “You must be someone very important?” She asked, gesturing to the guards with a jerk of her chin.

Elyna turned to rest both arms on the rail, watching the cresting waves as she listened to the woman. ‘I lived there, last year and for a season the year before,’ she couldn’t help but smile, ‘I think you’re right though, there’s something beautiful in the danger of it all, the knowledge that the sands will never be tamed. Much like the tide, or the sun or the moon.’

Her gaze dropped to her middle and she nodded in answer, ‘my first, an unexpected surprise,’ she lay a hand on the bump, smoothing it gently, ‘but not an unwelcome one. How many do you have?’ She tilted her head, ready to listen to the woman. She didn’t sense a threat from the sailor, only a curiosity.

At the suggestion that she had seen enough of the world, Elyna shook her head. Leaning back from the world she balanced on her bare toes, ‘not at all, I’d love to see so much more. Rathos, Crixus…I haven't even seen any of Aramane beyond the city.’

The fledgling peace between them shattered with the acknowledgement of the guards who still lingered at the docks. Watching from a distance that they made no attempt to close.

Elyna grimaced, ‘my husband is,’ she replied quietly, ‘the baby will be,’ her nose wrinkled, ‘I’ll just,’ her features pulled into a frown, ‘I’ll just be trying to…I’ll be supporting him.’ Elyna nodded to herself, ‘so you’re probably right, my travels are ended for the time being.’ She tapped her hands on the rail, ‘perhaps we will meet again and you can share your stories?’

“Two,” Marsilla replied, wearing a stiff, somewhat proud smile. “Two boys. Raising them has been far harder than any work you’ll find me doing here,” she said, gesturing to the ship with an absent wave of her hand.

She listened as Elyna described where she had been and where she still wanted to go. “Rathos… Crixus. If I knew any better, I’d say you were quite in love with danger.”

Marsilla looked once again at the guards before she gave a dismissive scoff. “Important, you say?” The woman moved to the edge of the rail and lifted herself up against the lip to sit and watch the docks and the people that came and went. Wendell couldn’t help but wonder why Yvan was so obsessed with the girl. She looked young, he thought, and altogether fed up with her station.

“We will meet again if the fates deem it so.” Marsilla smiled. “Next time you are in Nejem. As you don’t seem to shy away from the forbidden, a short trip to a tavern on the wrong side of town won’t worry you. I usually tend tables and pour drinks. This,” she smiled again, ''is just a means of returning home. I’ve been to Crixus and there are many tales to be told. I don’t think anyone could pay me enough to go as far as Rathos.”

“You’re married—would I know who too?”

‘Who looks after them, in your absence?’ Elyna asked, she hoped that the woman wouldn’t take her questions the wrong way or be upset by them. With a little luck they would be accepted as they were, curiosity.

She couldn’t help but grin at the description, her cheeks flushed as she lent forward again, as though it would be possible to reach out and touch the waves beneath. ‘I don’t have any intentions to court danger, but I’m not afraid of it.’ Her nose wrinkled again, usually she would be confident in her ability to defend herself. But pregnancy had thrown off her balance and her confidence in her own body and the strength it held. After all, it wasn’t about her anymore was it? She carried something more precious than her own life. ‘I think, before deciding those places are too dangerous I should see them myself. Make my own judgments,’ she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

‘How did you end up here? So far from home if you usually work in a tavern?’ Elyna tilted her head to the side, studying the woman’s striking features with a cautious smile. ‘I admit…I’ve probably been to the bar you’ve mentioned…to be honest I’ve probably been to most bars in Nejem.’ She grinned then, ‘probably thrown out of most of the bars in Nejem.’ Elyna admitted with a chuckle, ‘perhaps that’s why you seem familiar.’

‘Crixus?’ Her attention was well and truly caught and she looked up, ready to listen to any stories that the woman felt willing to share. Instead her expression faltered and she shook her head again. That would be foolish, wouldn’t it, to tell the woman that she was talking to a supposed Queen. Would it make her a target? Could anything she had said be used against her? Elyna turned over the conversation in her mind and couldn’t find anything malicious in it, thought she regretted admitting to her raucous activities in Nejem.

Still, she didn’t want to be rude. ‘Malcolm,’ she said finally before adding a smile, ‘the wolf of my heart.’

‘I should probably be going, before they get restless…can I have your name? I’m Ely.’

Marsilla’s cheer seemed to dampen a little at the question. “My brother,” she said, “though you will come to realise when you have children of your own that you can’t really trust anyone but yourself. As much as I love my brother, I can’t help but worry about my boys.”

Wendell was forced to consider what might take Marsilla away from her boys. “Survival.” The answer was simple. “I do not go to the ends of the earth for anything outside of making a living. I trust the stories I hear the men tell of Rathos and the dreadful pirates you’re bound to encounter there. It’s not a place for people who need to be escorted by guards in a city as safe as Aramane,” Marsilla warned, though she doubted this one would listen. Youth was always determined to discover for itself the limits wisdom had already set.

“As for Crixus… I guess your determination to dance with demons will one day reveal the information you seek.” Marsilla picked at a spec on her skirt and looked out to sea.

The name Malcolm did not mean a thing to her and so she did not ask any further questions regarding the man. It was only when Elyna mentioned that she should go, that Marsilla’s attention was won once more. “Of course,” she said, moving to stand. “I’m sure you have something very important to get back to.” She nodded. “As for my name, you will only forget it before next we meet,” she called as she made her retreat towards the cabin. “Take care, my lady.”

Elyna considered having Edmund looking after her baby and quickly dismissed the idea. She barely trusted Edmund to look after himself. Although, he too was married now? Would she become an Aunt in the near future? It was a strange thing to consider as she listened to the Nejemese woman speak.

Her own curiosity dampened at the description of Rathos’ pirates. Her enthusiasm dimmed as the woman mentioned her escort again and Elyna found herself looking across the bay at the collection. She drew in a deep breath and forced it out again. Was this really going to be the future? Her future? When she got back to Renmere, wouldn't it be the same, would it? Malcolm surely had plans for her to continue as a Skyrider, why else would he have gone to such efforts with her wedding ring? The woman reached up, toying with the ring as it hung against her chest. The metal was warm against her fingertips. More present than her husband.

It sounded as though she were thoroughly dismissed by the woman, and Elyna knew better than to outstay her welcome. Though she disagreed about forgetting a name, she also knew better than to push her luck. If the stranger didn’t wish to share, Elyna couldn’t force her. She looked up at the mast again, wistfully. Imagining for a moment that she could sail away to Nejem or Crixus or somewhere in the world that was new and different. Until she shook herself and bowed her head politely, ‘safe travels home to your boys,’ she wished the woman and crossed the planks to the broadwalk. Stepping off the ship to the docks she pushed her hands into her pocket and felt the weight settling back onto her shoulders.

Head bowed, Elyna watched her feet as she made her way across the maze of planks, coiled ropes and docking points to the anxiously waiting guards. She felt like a scolded child, where had she left her shoes this time? It wouldn’t be so bad if Malcolm were there, to share her adventures with. If she could talk to him about the ship she’d found in the docks, so far from home. If he would talk to her at all. She glanced back at the ship once more before hopping lightly down onto the sand. It stung, more than she cared to admit, that given an opportunity to spend some time together, he had been so eager to leave her behind and travel to Rhode. Whilst she held nothing but regret for her own actions, for making it easier for him to leave…it had been clear her company would have been unwanted. He had wanted her to travel with her family.

‘My lady?’ One of the braver guards approached, dangling a pair of elaborate sandals from his burly hand, ‘we thought you might need these. It appears that someone has stolen your boots.’

Elyna lent back to peer past the ships at the sand, she couldn’t see the place she’d been sitting and so simply shrugged. ‘Thank you,’ she forced a smile and accepted the sandals. The guard snapped his fingers and rolling out of the market place came a beautiful carriage, open topped and drawn by a pair of white horses. Without protest, the Skyrider allowed herself to be led forward and helped up the steps. Settled into the seat and provided with shade and a cold drink as the guards took up their positions. The carriage started rolling away and she couldn’t help but look back at the ships as they bobbed in the water, masts swaying in the breeze. This was supposed to be luxury. Why did it feel so much like a prison?

Wendell shared what he had learned with the captain, still keeping up his past lover's mask. Yvan kept staring at him with this confused sort of look. “You’re sure she said Malcolm?” He asked.

“Positive,” Wendell said.

“And she’s expecting?”

Wendell agreed with a nod. “Looks like she could drop any day.”

Yvan spat. He cleared his desk with an angry swipe of his hand as he rose. “Stupid fool!”

“Am I missing something?” Wendell asked.

“Malcolm Krome,” Yvan spoke through his teeth, “is the new King of Renmere.”

“That woman is a Queen?” He asked.

Yvan spat again. “Every bit deserving, unlike her husband.”

“When can I leave?” Wendell asked. As far as he saw it, he had done his part.

“I need you to do something else for me,” Yvan said.

“That wasn’t our deal.” Marsilla’s arms folded.

“Would you drop the disguise—she is very distracting.”

Wendell let the shapeshifting magic move through him and pass, restoring him once more to his true self. “I have given you everything you have asked for.”

“Follow her,” Yvan said. “She will lead me to him.”

Wendell lifted his chin in a quiet act of defiance. “I’m not sure I like your tone.”

“There will be no blood on your hands. I will deal with the false king, all you need do is take me to him.”

Wendell closed his eyes and let his hands fall at his sides. “Fine. But promise me that I can leave before you act?”

“You have my word,” Yvan said. Wendell didn’t think it meant much.