Page 75 of Of Stars and Lightning (Sun and Shadows #1)
Three Days Before Jinn Attack in Yavenharrow
CAS
CAS COULD COUNT on one hand the number of times he’d seen Sawyer retch.
The first time had been when she’d first arrived to court, after her father refused to let her ride atop a horse, and forced her into a carriage from Melisandre to the castle’s doorsteps.
The second had been after she and Cas ditched the academy’s final examinations, opting for ale, an honest game of cards, and late-night races on horseback along the Rimemere coast. The third, and likely least amusing circumstance, was now.
“I don’t want to step foot on another ship ever again,” the Fire Wielder said. She folded over the dock’s railing, grip white-knuckled and trembling against the worn wood.
Despite the beach’s rolling current dulling Sawyer’s agony, Cas kept his distance, providing only a sympathetic pat on her back when she straightened. “Luckily, we can finish the journey on horseback,” he offered.
She groaned but relaxed her hands. Burn marks marred the wood where she’d touched it, earning them curious glances from the sailors and travelers exiting the ship behind them.
“Did you know Yavenharrow houses one of the oldest architectural anomalies on the planet?” Alix wrapped one arm over Cas’s shoulders and the other around Sawyer's, tugging them down the rest of the wooden plank to officially disembark the trenches of the sea.
He continued his sermon, “No one can quite agree on how the Archives were built, nor the timeframe of its construction.
Some say it was the home of the gods when they walked Erriadin.”
“Alix, if you shake me anymore, I will throw up on you.” Sawyer’s skin blanched further, but the Water Dancer released them, cleverly unwilling to challenge the threat.
When she slung over the rails again, Cas could no longer suppress a laugh.
It was a hilarious irony that Fire Wielders detested water when it was the one thing that sated their inferno. That very reason had almost kept them behind in Graniela. In the end, their urgency to inspect the notorious Yavenharrow won over the inconvenience of a nauseating voyage.
And unlike Sawyer, Cas much preferred the sea over such a convoluted town.
Yavenharrow smelled like the sea. The odor clung to the cracked cobblestone roads, rising with the chimney smoke that hazed the air.
He hadn’t minded much at first, until they left their ship behind and reached the main streets, where salt mingled with the reek of dead fish and rotting meat.
Nina, last to exit the ship and the most excited for their expedition, led them through the thick, bristling crowds, seeming sure of where she was going even though Cas knew she she had no idea.
Downtown, every storefront was separated by thin alleys, each littered with garbage and leftover marine scales from wandering merchants who butchered their catches.
The locals seemed to ignore the grime, which was endearing, in a way.
It was easy to get lost in the town’s rugged charm when that was all they’d been exposed to.
Poetic, Cas thought.
“I didn’t expect the place to be so crowded,” Sawyer muttered from his side, color returning to her face. “I hardly even remembered this town existed.”
“To be fair, terrestrial studies were not your strong suit in the Academy,” Nina called over her shoulder, weaving through a group of sailors.
“I don’t believe any area of study was her strong suit, Nins,” Cas chimed, eyeing the sailors when their attention lingered a heartbeat longer than it should on the Earth Caller. “Except maybe wine”
“Like you did any better, you prick,” Sawyer snapped, clearly annoyed at the fact he wasn’t wrong. She smoothed her frizzy, flyaway hairs. “You barely graduated.”
“Ah, but that was very much a choice.”
They bickered as they walked, Alix joining them with stories of the sea and offering handfuls of exotic berries he’d bought from a merchant.
Cas settled slowly into the rhythm of the town as they rounded its center. The blends of people, goods, and energy definitely fit the town’s reputation as a popular port. It was that same reputation that had made them remain as far away as they could—until they couldn’t.
When a raven dropped the letter at their feet just as they were leaving Graniela’s libraries, Cas’s first reaction had been to zap it out of existence.
The parchment was worn, too worn for it to be a mere summons to a gathering or a request for a political meeting, as they had frequently gotten—and ignored—throughout their travels.
But the wax seal, a single, ornate “S” had made them all pause.
“For Semmena?” Nina had offered. Alix mused it could have also been for Sawyer, while Cas believed neither guess.
When no one moved to open it, he'd brought it up to his hands with a shadowy breeze and tore the message free.
Your princess is in Yavenharrow.
No signature, no context. It had seemed like a tasteless joke.
Everyone in the Wielder lands knew they searched for Irene’s child, and most called them fools for it.
The idea Irene and her child could have gone undetected for decades was too unfeasible.
Cas thought the letter had been a cruel reminder to lead them to another dead end.
But even if they chased nothing other than whispers and shadows, he would have kept doing so if it meant putting even a sea of distance between them and Rimemere.
“The letter said Princess,” Nina drawled suddenly as they rounded a noisy building, Yavenharrow’s heaviness snapping the haze of memories away. “A girl. What do you all think she’s like?”
Cas decided to keep his hypothesis to himself.
As he had done the entire time he’d been condemned to fight for the Yarrows after they had destroyed his family, bones and all.
His bloodline of Wardens ended with him—just as this girl they searched for was the end of hers.
It was conflicting to think about too intimately, and he decided to settle on the surface level truths: no Yarrows were kind.
They were nothing more than weapons, keys, and walking incantations.
“I hope she’s like her mother,” Alix said, breaking the tense silence.
Sawyer laughed. “I don’t. I hope she’s nothing like any of us.”
Cas peered over at the Fire Wielder. She was a Yarrow, yet one of his closest, dearest allies. Perhaps reducing someone’s existence to the history of their ancestors wasn’t—
Before the thought could solidify, Cas stopped walking. He wandered to a nearby wall covered in ivy and mossy spiderwebs. He braced his hands on it, closing his eyes for a moment while drawing calculated, calming breaths.
His duty was to protect this Court, and if that included the Yarrow heiress, it would be duty and nothing more.
He’d worked tirelessly to separate emotion from need, with physical conditioning, with prayer, with anything that would cleave the two worlds apart when he needed them to be. This would be no different.
For the sake of Erriadin, it couldn’t be.
When the dissonance settled, Cas pushed off the wall, greeted by his Court’s stares. They said nothing, which he was thankful for. He shook off the bizarre feelings and cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
“You know, I think we all deserve a drink and a place to draw up a plan.” Nina resumed her guidance with a fleeting, wary smile his way. “Let’s follow the crowds and hope they take us to a nice bed-and-breakfast.”
The crowds did not lead them to a nice bed-and-breakfast. They did, however, lead them to a two-story, sandstone and brick building that Cas was sure leaned a little too much to the right.
The path to its ajar cedar doors was overgrown with weeds and foreign coins, likely from drunks who would have lost their own heads had it not been on their shoulders.
The closer they got, the more the scent of salt, sweat, and ale assaulted his nose, so pungent as they stepped inside that he fixed his face mask over his nose and mouth, leaving his eyes to brace the eye-watering stench. They would survive. His stomach may not.
Sawyer, looking like she might hurl again, stayed close to Cas, tugging at his cloak to shield her nose and mouth well. “There has to be somewhere else.”
“I’ll ask,” Alix said with a forearm over his face.
Nina maintained an impeccable mask, smiling at passing sailors before stepping out of their way. “I think it’s rather charming.”
Cas could barely hear her, or even his own thoughts for that matter, the inn’s clients roaring into fits of laughter that sent plates rolling off the rickety wooden tables.
The sign outside had said “The Hound Inn,” but it looked more like a full-on tavern.
Spotting an empty table, he pushed the girls toward it, careful to wipe the leftover spittle and crumbs from the surface before letting them have the two stools.
“I can’t imagine Irene’s daughter living in this town,” Sawyer muttered as she slid onto the stool. “I can’t picture Irene living here, either.”
“Irene loved the sea,” Nina drawled. “I think this place is perfect for her.”
Cas surveyed the enclosure, noting suspicious glances or anyone who gave off even a whiff of Light Magic.
He didn’t sense any Wielders amongst the crowd, but their luck had soured quickly before.
He wondered if Irene had chosen this town because of its mundanity, because of the ease with which she would have remained hidden in plain sight.
A girl, short, wide eyed and clearly overwhelmed, stopped by their table. She forced a smile. “Hello, anything to drink?” Her black hair spiked out of her complex braids, her apron stained with what Cas hoped was ale.
“A round of ales, please.” Nina returned the smile. “And some food if you have any.”
“We have bread and cheese today,” the girl responded, swatting stray hands that tried to tug at her for attention. “The barmaid that usually makes the stew is out.”
“That works, then,” Nina said. “Thank you.”