Shadows of the Lost Sun by Carrie Ryan
“I use it to protect my most valuable and/or dangerous possessions,” the wizard continued. He waved at a trio of clear cubes laid out neatly just behind the Key, each nestled on a velvet cushion. The first held a collection of small objects Fin had never seen before: a stone that looked like it was made from a boiling storm, what appeared to be a ball with the label SOUL OF IMALUPHUS KHAN—DO NOT BOUNCE, and a glass figurine that bowed to each of them in greeting. Fin nodded back unconsciously.
The second cube had something far more familiar floating inside: the wish orb, nearly filled with concentrated Pirate Stream water, which could grant all but the absolute most extreme of wishes. And if the Master of the Iron Ship had managed to fill it completely when they were back in Monerva, even those wishes would have been possible.
Fin gave a silent thanks that he and Marrill had showed up in time to stop it.
It was the third cube, though, that caused Marrill to let out a strangled squeak. “My Wiverwane!” She dropped Karny to the floor, ignoring his howled protest, and raced toward the cube, where a black spot of a creature cowered in the corner. It looked like a bat and a spider all in one, or more like a pair of hands joined together at the wrist. Long spindly finger-legs drummed against the side of its enclosure.
Marrill’s eyes narrowed as her hands clutched into fists. Fin could see the shock and anger twining across her face. Frankly, he’d never been a fan of the creepy creatures, but Marrill had been partial to them, especially this one. Which made sense, since it had kind of saved their lives.
“Marrill, it’s all right,” Fin started.
She shook her head violently, cutting him off. “It is not all right. The poor thing’s cramped and scared.” She spun toward Ardent. “How could you keep it in there like that?”
Surprised, Ardent twittered his fingers. “Marrill, the Wiverwane is not some pet. It is the memories of the Dzane made flesh, the recollections of the first wizards going all the way back to the birth of the Stream. Perhaps beyond. I have already seen… disturbing things by touching this little creature. That kind of knowledge, unleashed willy-nilly, could cause grave consequences.”
“But it’s a living creature!” Marrill protested. “And it’s not dangerous; it’s sweet.”
“Marrill…” Remy interjected. “It does cause people to fall into, uh, memory-comas, or whatever, when they touch it. Maybe he’s right?”
Marrill crossed her arms, undeterred. “No. I carried it all through the catacombs of Monerva, and it didn’t do a thing to hurt anyone. It helped me.”
Ardent cocked his head to one side. “Well, that’s debatable, certainly.” The two stared at each other for an awkward moment. Fin shot a glance at Fig. She was staring at the big wooden chest, brow furrowed as she scanned its mysterious contents.
Wait a second, Fin thought, putting two and two together. The wish orb was the key to releasing the Salt Sand King… and someone had tried to steal it. On the very same day one of the Salt Sand King’s army of spies had joined their crew.
He didn’t know what felt worse: being deceived, or having fallen for it.
Fin grabbed Fig’s arm, yanking her toward the doorway. “It was you, wasn’t it? You tried to take the orb.” His chin quivered, feeling hurt and betrayed and angry and confused all at once.
“What? Brother, what do you mean?”
Fin wasn’t about to be tricked twice. “Don’t play dumb,” he growled. “You tried to steal the wish orb to free your king. You said your people came on board to find me. But that was a lie, wasn’t it? You used me, and you were here for that orb all along.”
Fig looked offended. She was good, Fin had to give her that. “No. It was you. Brother, really! I don’t even know anything about that orb—”
He cut her off with a stroke of his hand. “Where are your shoes?” Her eyes slowly dropped to her bare feet, then off to the side. Clearly, she hadn’t anticipated that tell. “Well? Did you throw your shoes overboard, or are they belowdecks somewhere screaming their little hearts out?”
Fig blew a hair out of her face in frustration. Fin glared at her, waiting for her to cave.
“Overboard,” she finally huffed. “One of them turned into a really beautiful songbird. The other one ate it.” She paused. “But it wasn’t a lie!” she protested. “We really did come for you.”
“Then why all the sneaking around the ship?” he pressed. “Why didn’t you just grab me when you had the chance?”
“We’re Fade. That’s not our style—we’re more for subtlety and subterfuge. Besides, the bigger a scene we cause, the more noticeable we become, and the longer it takes people to forget us.”
“And I’m sure that’s the only reason,” he said drily.
“Okay fine.” She rolled her eyes. “We also thought we’d take a look around for anything that might be, you know, useful. And unguarded. But I really didn’t know about the orb until your wizard mentioned something about having cargo that the Rise would want. And even then, I just wanted to find it and figure out what it was.”
Fin’s stomach sank at the confirmation of her deception. “And steal it for them.”
She looked down and away. “You don’t understand,” she said. “If it’s something they want, the Rise will get it. They’re unstoppable. We can’t resist them, Brother. We can only help them; it’s for the best, really.”
Fin shook his head sadly. “If they’re so unstoppable, how come we got away from them?”
“Yeah, well.” She shrugged. “I’m not really sure what happened there, either. That’s why we were so thrown when your ship started outracing them.… That’s never really happened before.”
Fin snorted. Fig was clearly untrustworthy. Still, it did make some strange sense. And he had to admit, if what she said was true, breaking into Ardent’s cabin like that was exactly the type of thing he would have done.
“It’s not really betrayal,” Fig argued. “You’re one of us, Fin. You’re Fade. You should be on our side. You should want to help the Rise recover that orb.”
As one, they looked back inside, past where Marrill and Ardent were still debating the fate of the Wiverwane. Beside the skittery creature, the orb sat glowing, like a fallen star caught on a pillow.
One wish, Fin thought, and the path to Monerva would reopen, setting free the Salt Sand King to torch every world he touched. And opening that path would also unleash the deadly Iron Tide, which they had just barely halted before their escape. That was why no one could use the orb; that was why wishes were better left unspoken. It would be an apocalyptic race to the finish, the fire and iron competing to see which could do the most damage to the Stream the quickest. After that happened, they might want the Lost Sun of Dzannin to escape from the Map to Everywhere, just to clean up the mess.
He wondered what Fig would think if she did know all of that. But then, he didn’t plan on telling her. At this point, the less she knew, the better. “I guess I have to turn you in.” He looked out at the angles and arches of Listerd Light Alley. In the belch of a Listerd bubble, something long and ungainly moved. “Shame you didn’t betray us in friendlier territory.”
Fig waved her hands. “Brother, wait! I know I overreached. I’m sorry. What can I say? I’m an achiever.” She smiled at him mischievously. “But we can still both get what we want. The Rise will be plenty happy if I help you find your mother and bring the two of you back to the fold. And in return, I promise not to try to get that orb.”
Fin scoffed.
But still he hesitated. He’d learned more about who he was and where he’d come from today than he had in his entire life. And even if he wasn’t so sure he wanted to be one of the Fade, Fig made him feel like there was a place in the Stream where he fit in. Not to mention she was the only lead he had toward finding his mother. How could he turn that opportunity down?
Besides, clearly Ardent’s security was top-notch. The best thief on the Stream would be hard-pressed to steal the orb from the wizard. And since Fin was t
He let out a long breath, wondering if he was going to regret his decision. But he didn’t really see a choice. “Deal,” he said at last. “Though one more caper and you’re off. I don’t care where we are.”
Fig seemed surprised by his answer. She covered it with a grin, though it wasn’t as bright as usual. “Thank you, Brother Fade.” She sounded almost genuine.
Uneasy truce struck, Fin and Fig slipped back inside the cabin, just as Ardent’s expression softened into familiar lines of a gentle smile. “Of course, Marrill. You’re right; a living creature needs the best care we can provide for it. At the same time, we must be mindful of its dangers. Perhaps together we can come up with better accommodations for the Wiverwane.”
“Thank you!” Marrill threw herself into the wizard’s arms. Fin felt a lump in his throat. Watching Ardent and Marrill was like watching a grandfather and granddaughter. It wasn’t very thiefly, but he couldn’t help but be touched by it.
When Marrill pulled back, Ardent placed a hand on the third cube. It didn’t open so much as dissolve through his fingers. Freed, the Wiverwane flapped furiously, its one broken appendage still making flight a struggle.
It had almost made it to Marrill’s shoulder when a low growl rose from Ardent’s desk. Karnelius scrambled across the wooden surface, kicking stray papers to the side and upending bowls of various colored stones as he launched himself toward the Wiverwane.
“Karny, no!” Marrill cried. She grabbed for the Wiverwane. Fin saw what was about to happen and leapt forward just in time to catch her. Because the moment her palm brushed against the Wiverwane, her skin rippled like water, and she collapsed.
A memory coma. Wiverwanes did that—filling the heads of anyone who touched them with someone else’s memories, leaving them dazed.
“Marrill!” Remy shouted, taking her from Fin. “Coll, help me get her up!”
“I knew this was a bad idea!” Ardent grunted, tiptoeing toward the Wiverwane. The Wiverwane, however, wasn’t fooled. It bolted out the door and flew toward the port railing. Karnelius jumped to follow.
Everything that happened next seemed to go in slow motion.
“The cat!” Fig yelled.
Fin twisted, just in time to see Karnelius coiled on the stairs to the quarterdeck. And then
he
pounced.
The Wiverwane flapped its broken wing, managing to float up just an inch above the railing.
“Catch them!” Marrill screamed, coming out of her stupor and pushing to her feet.
Fin lunged, trying to intervene. But he was too late. Cat and creature collided. Legs and claws scrabbled against the railing. And just like that,
they were gone.
CHAPTER 5
Into the Drink
Karny, no!” Marrill screamed. Her heart lodged in her throat as her cat sailed through the air, collided with the Wiverwane, and scrambled for purchase on the railing before momentum carried them overboard.
With a yowl of outrage and surprise, Karny plummeted toward the glowing waters of the Pirate Stream. Overhead the tackle squealed. Lines flew from the rigging, trying to snatch the pair midfall.
For a moment, Marrill’s pulse seemed to beat in slow motion.
Ropebone got there in time, she told herself.
It was okay. Karny was safe.
But then she heard the splash. A band tightened around her lungs. “Noooo!” she wailed as she raced to the railing, Fin chasing after her. In the windows of Listerd Light Alley, twisted shapes moved in a cruel mockery of the anguish sweeping through her.
We’re still in the alley. Not out on the open Stream. The water is brackish, she told herself. Karny is fine. But she could already see that the Stream had taken them outward again. The Listerd gas bubbled less. The waters of the Stream glowed golden with magic.
Deadly magic.
“Beast overboard!” Coll hollered, racing out of Ardent’s cabin toward the ship’s wheel. “Heave to!”
Despite their dislike for the cat in question, the pirats scampered dutifully along the yards, hauling up the mainsail and bracing the mainmast square as Coll turned the ship perpendicular to the wind.
Marrill pushed herself out over the railing, farther than she would normally dare. Her eyes scanned the surface frantically, desperate for any sign of Karny or the Wiverwane. With one hand, she swiped away tears to keep her vision from blurring.
But what was she looking for? What would Karny be now? Aflightofowls-atelephonepole-aburstofyellow. Her heart pounded. Her mind, unfettered, raced through horrid possibilities. Thetasteofmarshmallows-anoperamelody-afeelinglikeyou’relostandsofarfromhomeandyouletdowntheonlythingthatlovesyou.
And then, like a miracle, she heard it. A feeble yowl.
Far below, right at the waterline, something clung to the netting strung along the Kraken’s hull. In the dark, the glow of the Stream wasn’t enough for her to see what was there. But she knew immediately the yowl was Karnelius. But was he still Karnelius?
-acatfish-amancat-acaticorn-anoctokitty-acatcallonlyacallnothingleftbutacall-
“I think I see him!” Fin threw a leg over the railing, ready to climb down. Marrill was half over with him when firm hands hauled them both back.
“The creature’s far too close to the water,” Ardent warned. “Allow me.” The wizard pinched at the air and lifted his arm. Karnelius rose toward the deck, as though plucked from the Stream by an invisible hand.
A moment later, a limp Karnelius swung over the railing, dangling in midair by the scruff of his neck. He was drenched, his fur plastered against his skinny frame, making him appear far smaller and more vulnerable than usual. Water dripped from him, forming a glowing puddle on the deck.
“Still a cat! That’s good news,” Ardent announced happily. He frowned. “If odd.”
“Karny!” Marrill scrambled toward the poor, soaked creature, falling to all fours when she neared. Just before she reached him, however, her head slammed into an invisible wall. She looked up to find Ardent holding his palm toward her, stopping her.
“Careful.” He nodded toward the quickly growing puddle of raw magic. “The deck is made of dullwood. You are not. The magic will dissipate shortly, mingling with the air until it is no longer lethal. But not yet.”
Marrill took a deep breath and clutched her hands to her chest to keep from grabbing her cat. “Is… is he okay?” she asked in a trembling voice.
In response, Karnelius twisted against the invisible hand holding him and let out an angry hiss. He swiped at the air, claws bared. All of a sudden, Ardent let out an “ouch!” and the cat dropped to the deck, landing gracefully in a crouch.
Marrill extended her fingers toward him. “It’s okay, Karny,” she cooed. “You’re safe now.”
His one eye flashed. Each twitch of his tail sent droplets of water arcing across the deck. A low grumble sounded from his chest.
And then he began to speak.
I, the Dawn Wizard, being of inscrutable mind and inexplicable body, do hereby bequeath the following to those who will follow:
Marrill froze. She was sure she couldn’t be seeing—or hearing—this. But one glance at the others told her that she wasn’t alone—they’d all heard Karny speak, too. Remy’s eyes were wide, Fin’s mouth open in shock.
“What just happ—” he started to ask.
Ardent cut a hand through the air. “Let the cat finish, young man I don’t recognize.”
First and foremost, to those who would play the Game of Prophecy, I leave a stratagem. You will find it buried in the lines of this very will, should you have the will to find it.
They all held their breath, staring at Karnelius, waiting for him to say more. The cat shook his head and snuffled. Then he let out a sneeze so enormous it made his fur stand on end—his suddenly dry fur, Marrill realized, as though the force of the sneeze had flung every last drop from his body.
Then he sat, lifted
With trembling fingers, Marrill reached for her cat, pulling him into her arms. She didn’t care if any residual magic clung to his fur, didn’t care what it might do to her. All she cared about was holding Karny and keeping him safe. He settled against her shoulder and bonked her chin with his forehead. Perfectly normal once again. Or at least as normal as he’d ever been.
Fin was the one to break the shocked silence. “Well, that’s a thing that just happened.” He scratched his head. “So… does anyone actually know what that was?”
Ardent considered the cat with a puzzled expression. “Extraordinary,” he breathed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“The surviving a dunk in the Stream or the talking cat bit?” Fin asked.
Ardent shook his head. “Either.” He tugged on his beard as he studied the cat.
Suddenly, Marrill straightened. She’d been so worried about Karny that she’d forgotten he wasn’t alone. “Where’s the Wiverwane?” she asked. She spun, scanning the deck. “What happened to it?”
Fin, Remy, and a deckhand raced to the side of the ship, peering over. Ardent stood stock-still, brow furrowed.
Marrill’s stomach felt like it was turning inside out. If something happened to the Wiverwane, she was responsible. She’d been the one to demand it be set free, after all. And it was her cat that had chased it.
“I don’t see it!” Fin called, running down to the back of the ship.
“Nothing over here,” said whoever had gone to the front.
Marrill caught Remy’s eye. Her babysitter shook her head sadly. “Wh-wh-where is it?” Marrill stammered. “It has to still be here. It has to be!”
Coll’s strong hand dropped onto her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Marrill.”
But Ardent raised a finger. “Hold off on being sorry, I’m having a theory.” He chewed a stray hair from his long beard absently. “Oh yes. Hmm. Yes. Oh, that makes… yes… I think… I believe… the Wiverwane is still here, after all!”