Aria of the Awakened (The Mindstream Chronicles Book 6) by K.C. May

Author:K.C. May [May, K.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy adventure, fantasy novels, fantasy, Epic Fantasy
Publisher: Peach Orchard Press
Published: 2017-09-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

By nightfall, the storm had abated, and the next day was clear sailing with favorable winds. Jora spent most of the day checking the Mindstream for signs that Rivva had removed her barring cuff and playing Song of the Sea Spirit and watching for signs of Sundancer. She regretted having sent her dolphin friend away, but at the time, it had been the right choice. Justice Captain Milad had meant to punish her, and by the time Rivva named Jora as Minister of Truth, it was too late. Sundancer was already gone. But, she reasoned, just because the dolphin hadn’t come to the harbor didn’t mean she and her pod had left the strait altogether.

And there was no sign of Rivva either. King Gerad stopped by her room every three or four hours to inquire whether she’d had any luck. Either Rivva was wearing a barring inscription by choice because she was hiding from her would-be captors, or she was being forced to wear one so her rescuers couldn’t see what was happening to her.

To ease her mind, she Observed Finn again. He hunch in Tosh’s pocket while their brother sat for supper with his fake Mangendan family. Though she was relieved to see him well, his apparent affection for his pretend wife and their three bastard children left her feeling uncomfortable. That he could be happy without Melka and Palo confused and disturbed her.

It was late afternoon when the Cirichata dropped anchor off the coast of Stormfury Island. Gulls circled about, their forms dark against the clear blue sky as their mournful cries echoed across the still water. The harbor consisted of a single L-shaped dock, where a merchant vessel was moored. Men carried sacks of grain and barrels of wine or fresh water ashore. Jora wondered in passing how these supplies were paid for, given the island had no known means of generating income. The island itself was small, and with such a tiny harbor, it obviously didn’t have a tourist trade. Did they craft and sell items? Dolphin figurines carved from rock salt like miniature Spirit Stones, perhaps. The monks of the Iskori Temple in Serocia were known at one time to have crafted goods that helped raise money for their coffers. That was before Ibsa Bervoets convinced the king to outlaw god vessels in the home, of course.

Jora, Ibsa, King Gerad, and Cyprianus climbed down the rope ladder to the dinghy with Arc, Tylia and Ludovicus. Ibsa had been allowed to go ashore without handcuffs, but nobody trusted her enough to take off the kastdern. They would only do that when it was absolutely necessary.

“Why is he coming?” Arc asked, his gaze affixed on Cyprianus.

“Because I invited him,” Jora said.

“He’s the one most familiar with the monks and their order,” Gerad added.

Arc accepted the explanation with an inclined head, though he shot Cyprianus a look that Jora construed as a warning, and yet Ibsa was the one most likely one to betray them. Jora would have preferred to leave her on the ship, but they couldn’t restore the Spirit Stone without her.

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