A silence falling dark a.., p.1
A Silence Falling Dark and Deep, page 1
A Silence Falling Dark and Deep
K.N. Salustro
Nova Dragon Studios, LLC
Copyright © 2024 by Nova Dragon Studios, LLC
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
For Jacki
The exact person you want in your corner when the world goes dark. I am so proud and grateful to be your sister.
Contents
Prologue: Forged in the Storm
1. The Return
2. Spider's Plea
3. Rest and Reparations
4. A Quartermaster's Pledge
5. Empty Winds
6. Parley
7. The Shipwreck
8. Trick of the Light
9. Pursuit
10. Running the Gauntlet Reef
11. As Much As She Needs
12. Maelstrom
13. The Surrender
14. The Strength of a Goodtide
15. Where Power Lies
16. The Right Thing
17. Wants and Needs
18. The Prince of the Hollow Sun
19. Who Could Be Redeemed
20. The Way Ahead
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Books by K.N. Salustro
Prologue: Forged in the Storm
Every hand pitched in as the Southern Echo skirted the edge of the storm. Dax was no exception. He did not usually handle rigging work, but even this far from the center of the hurricane, the winds were savage, and it was all the crew could do to keep the ship under control. The Southern Echo bucked and skipped over the waves, jolting everyone with each crash of her keel against the water, but despite the rough voyage and the hard work of keeping the reefed sails under control, there were smiles across the ship, and Dax could feel the adrenaline and excitement in the rapid drumming of the crew’s hearts.
Not so long ago, so many elevated heart rates would have overwhelmed Dax and left him curled on the deck with his hands clamped over his ears, groaning against the splitting pain in his skull as the hammering of his magic overwhelmed him. It had taken a lot of practice and the accidental discovery of the soothing properties of a piece of Solkyrian agate, but Dax finally had a firm grip on his blood working Skill. Or at least a firmer one. His magic could still slip beyond his control if he wasn’t careful, but that was more of an inconvenience for him than anyone else. It had been a long time now since he’d accidentally stopped someone’s heart.
He could still feel the pulses of the crew even when the weather was calm and most everyone was bored, but they faded to a dull undertone at the back of his mind instead of a steady thrumming in his ears that made it impossible to sleep. With the storm driving up their adrenaline now, their heartbeats were amplified, but Dax could keep them at bay with a gentle flex of his magic.
He’d come a long way since Iris Arani had found him as a frightened stowaway.
Everyone who sailed the Southern Echo had, really.
“Keep steady on the mainsail,” the voice of the captain rang out over the howl of the storm. “I want that one fully down before the wind changes.”
“Aye, Captain!” came the sturdy response.
What had once been a ragtag group of mutineers had grown to a respectably sized crew, and though rain-lashed and difficult to fully see in the dark of the storm, there was no mistaking the camaraderie that had blossomed across the ship. Of course, that had been buoyed by their recent taking of a good prize under the leadership of Captain Iris Arani and the quartermaster, Will Brownbay.
They make a solid pair, Dax thought.
Old Brownbay’s experience and level temper was a good offset to Iris’s bold, eager vigor and natural drive to lead. She listened and willingly learned from him, just as the rest of the crew did.
It was a real problem, then, that Will Brownbay wanted to retire.
The whole crew knew that the quartermaster was looking to end his career as a sailor. He often claimed that he wasn’t cut out to be a pirate, although his ferocity in battle suggested otherwise. Still, the man had spent a hard life at sea, mostly under the command of imperial officers, and he was ready for a few steady years with his boots on the soil of an island instead of the wooden deck of a ship, his days filled with tending to a small garden and reading until it was time for him to fall asleep in a real bed, not a hammock rocking with the waves. No one begrudged him that quiet dream, but no one was eager to step into his place, either.
Dax did not blame them; the responsibilities and duties of the quartermaster were wide and demanding, and to fill the role was to take on the trust of the crew while commanding their respect and driving their discipline. A quartermaster was a leader, not a friend, and for once, Dax was glad that he had been branded as a Skilled. No Solkyrian-dominated crew would have ever voted a Skilled into such a high position of authority.
On the other edge of that sword, Dax had endured a fair bit of cruel words and gestures, until Iris had rooted out the worst of the antagonists and expelled them from the crew, leaving them to find their own way forward in the pirate haven known as Spider’s Nest. That had destroyed the worst of it, although the final blow against the bigotry had only come recently, when Dax had sat for an ink artist among the Leviathan Sea Traders and endured hours of the bite and scrape of a needle against his head. The new tattoos had healed well, although they still itched a little, and Dax had to consciously keep himself from scratching the still-tender parts of his scalp. But getting the large, intricate design had been worth it; now, instead of irritation, the Solkyrian members of the Southern Echo’s crew looked at Dax and the twin tattoos flaring out along the sides of his shaved head with reluctant respect tinged with the faintest hint of awe. Dax happily took that over their previous coldness. He still wasn’t exactly friends with any of them just yet, save for Iris, but he was making progress.
Dax bared his teeth in a ferocious smile as he hauled on the ropes with the riggers, furling the ship’s sails even more as the wind whipped across the sea. Dark clouds swirled in the sky, dumping cold rain on everyone’s heads, but in spite of that, Dax could still feel the steady pulse of the crew’s excitement seeping into his skin, brushing against his magic and stirring it into a steady thrum through his own veins.
The plunder from the merchant ship promised to see them well-fed and entertained in the very near future. The small vessel had eluded the Southern Echo far longer than anyone had anticipated, but under Iris’s relentless determination, the pirate brig had caught up. The fight for control hadn’t been so bad, with most of the merchant crew throwing down their weapons and pleading for mercy instead of resisting. Everything had been over fast, and now the Southern Echo’s hold bore three small chests of silver coins and several bolts of luxurious cloths that would fetch a handsome price on Spider’s Nest.
There was rest and rum and good food and company in their futures, with nothing but a bit of sailing and one bad storm between them and those pleasures.
Of course, bad storm was turning out to be a bit of an understatement, but Iris had warned the crew of the dangers beforehand. Under Brownbay’s council, she had let them vote to continue the voyage. They were all here now, battling the edges of a hurricane, because the majority of the crew had chosen a swift return over a safer slog around the storm. Iris was on the deck with them now, squinting against the thrashing rain and watching the climbing riggers with genuine concern.
A particularly large wave rocked the Southern Echo, and Dax felt Iris’s heart leap almost as much as those of the men and women clinging to the ropes above. His Skill responded to their distress, making his head twinge, but he pulled it back, narrowing the channels of his magic as the Southern Echo rolled back into balance.
Brownbay came skittering across the soaked deck as the ship righted herself. “Their lives aren’t worth that bit of cloth,” he shouted to Iris over the wind. “Call them down.”
“If the mainsail goes, it’s taking everything else with it,” Iris called back. “Right now, all our lives are worth that bit of cloth.”
If Brownbay responded, Dax did not hear it, but he and the quartermaster both knew that Iris had an intimate understanding of the Southern Echo’s rigging. She’d climbed and worked it herself long before she’d overthrown the old captain and taken control of the ship. If she thought losing the mainsail was a danger that could not be ignored, it was best to listen to her.
Dax took a deep breath and readjusted his grip on the rope.
Lightning thrashed the sky as the wind howled with a new ferocity, and Dax felt the moment the crew’s excitement began to buckle under their fear. Their anxiousness ground against his awareness, gnawing at his control over his Skill, and he grit his teeth as he took a moment to gather himself.
When he felt his magic quiet down to a trickle, he risked a glance over his shoulder at Iris. Her face was still turned up to the mainsail, and she ignored the lashing of her own wet hair against her skin as she watched her crew work. Her mouth was forming what could have been a silent prayer, or a curse upon the gods themselves for the storm; with Iris, it could have gone either way.
For some reason, that gave Dax more comfort than a sudden break in the storm would have.
Iris and Brownbay had both agreed to lower the topgallant and topsails before the storm had caught the ship, but the mainsail and the foresail had been left to catch what they could of the winds and speed the Southern Echo along. The gamble had paid off for the most part, with the ship’s mute navigator confirming that they’d sailed much farther than they ever would have if they’d tried to completely avoid the storm, but the hurricane had moved faster than anyone had anticipated. Now those sails needed to come down before the storm tore them away, and Iris and Brownbay had elected to fully lower the yards rather than try to take the sails down separately. The foresail’s yard had cooperated beautifully, but the mainsail was fighting back like a distressed animal. The riggers aloft were trying to find the problem, hacking with cutlasses where any other action would have been too slow.
They still weren’t fast enough.
The Southern Echo rolled under Dax’s feet as another massive wave came bearing down on the ship, and he heard the cries of frustration and fear as cold seawater sloshed across the deck. He grit his teeth again and held on to the rope.
A startled shout drew his attention, and he turned to see that Iris had vanished from her place on the deck. Dax’s own heart surged as he thought of her being washed over the side of the ship by that last wave, but he caught the flash of her red coat against the darkness of the storm, moving up the shrouds. Dax’s heart stopped as he watched Iris scramble into the rigging, a knife clenched in her teeth, but her steps were sure and there was a burning determination in her that Dax could sense even across the distance between them.
She’s fine, he told himself. She knows what she’s doing.
His pulse still jumped as she reached the yard and joined the two riggers working on the port yardarm.
“Gods above protect that wild girl,” Brownbay said as he stepped up next to Dax and the others holding the rope, waiting for the weight of the yard to shift. “And the rest of us from her.” The quartermaster tore his eyes away from the captain and called encouragement and adjustments to the sailors on the deck.
Dax responded alongside the others, but he stumbled when the ship rolled again.
“Don’t drop that rope, Malatide,” Theo Yellowwood shouted down from the rigging.
Dax wasn’t the only one who had tripped with that last wave, and he glanced up at the man, not bothering to hide his irritation. His glower under his new tattoos had a satisfying effect; Theo swallowed with visible nervousness and then snapped his attention back to his task. Dax felt a smile rise to his lips, but his stomach flipped as he caught sight of Iris’s red coat against the black sky.
Gods above, don’t let her fall.
Thankfully, it seemed as though the gods had answered his prayer. The storm did not let up, but within a few minutes of Iris joining the riggers aloft, whatever had tangled the mainsail was dislodged, and the yard finally began to lower. Dax snuck another relieved glance up, proud of Iris, but the feeling twisted into confusion when he saw that she had climbed higher and was staring into the dark clouds. Most of the riggers had descended, but Theo Yellowwood had remained behind. The man hunched on the small platform that surrounded the place where the lower and top mainmasts joined, his face turned up towards the captain. Dax thought that the rigger was calling to Iris, but something had snatched her attention, and she paid him no heed.
“Captain!” Brownbay called, throwing his voice as far as he could into the wind.
Iris still did not look away from the dark clouds.
“Captain!” the quartermaster shouted again, desperation edging his voice.
Theo looked down, but Iris did not.
“Arani!” Brownbay bellowed, and Iris started and finally seemed to remember that she was up in the ship’s rigging while a hurricane thrashed the sky and sea.
She gave a small wave of acknowledgment and began her descent. Theo also started to climb down, and Dax felt his pulse ease.
Then the next wave came, bigger than all the last, and the wall of water was accompanied by an angry burst of wind that nearly ripped Dax from the ship. He wasn’t the only one. By the time the water had drained from the deck and the roaring wind was past, nearly everyone who’d been topside had been swept off their feet and carried down the length of the ship. Their lifelines had held, and several people were clinging to the riggers who had jumped down from the ratlines mere moments before. Dax pushed himself to his knees and looked up, and his heart froze in his chest.
The rigging was empty.
Iris was gone.
Dax was on his feet and moving before he’d had the chance to even begin to think. He untied his lifeline, thrust it into the nearest person’s hands with garbled instructions he himself only half-understood, and then leapt up on to the railing of the ship. The sea billowed and screamed all around him, but he was diving in before the next bolt of lightning could illuminate that watery hell, plunging straight through the cold surface.
Dax had already been soaked by the rain, so the icy water barely registered against his skin. As he slipped under the waves, however, the world went dark. The rush of the current was the only sound now, other than the beating of his own heart.
His world had not been this quiet for as long as he could remember. For a long moment, Dax hung in the sea, torn between the terror of facing that near-silent world under the water, and the shocked awe of finally being completely alone.
Iris…
Shunting aside his emotions, Dax reached within himself, brushing against his magic. It twisted and surged through his veins, a wild thing that did not fully trust him yet. He felt the same way about his Skill, but he needed it now, needed it to behave and help him where all his other senses failed.
In the darkness under the surface of the water, Dax gathered his magic, widening the channels that were always open to the world no matter how hard he tried to close them. Silence rushed in, and Dax’s fear might have claimed him then if he wasn’t so focused on the faintest tremors of the water, searching for the beating of another heart.
He found an erratic, terrified pulse off to his left.
Salt stung Dax’s eyes as he began to swim, but he kept them open as he went.
I’m coming, Dax thought as he cut through the water. Hold on, Iris.
But when another flash of lightning split the sky, illuminating the sea in a wash of gray-green, Dax saw the floundering figure just ahead of him. It wasn’t Iris, but Theo Yellowwood.
For one terrible moment, Dax considered turning away. But Iris would never forgive him for letting one of the crew drown. Worse yet, Dax would never forgive himself. Not when he knew he could help. He worried that he had not sensed Iris in the sea yet, but he had to help Theo first.
Thankfully, the rigger could swim, although being thrown off the ship had left Theo disoriented and panicked. He thrashed in the water, his screams for help dying against the waves. He was fighting, but he was going the wrong way, away from the Southern Echo.
Dax’s arms were already growing tired as he came up near Theo, but he kicked his legs hard as he treaded water. He called to the rigger, but the storm devoured his voice. Theo thrashed and paddled further away. Dax followed him, barely managing to clasp his hand around the other man’s arm as a wave lifted them up and then dropped them together.
The rigger screamed and lashed out, striking Dax on the side of the face. Dax yelped in pain as he let go of Theo’s arm, seawater rushing in to fill his nose and mouth. Dax choked as he went under again. He felt the pressure of a wave tumble over him and Theo, pushing the rigger beneath the water, too. Dax fought his way back up and took ragged, painful breaths as he coughed up water, but Theo did not surface. Dax did not wait. He drew in as deep a breath as his battered lungs could handle and dove back down.
Theo twisted and fought in the water, but the wave had disoriented him, and his panic was a palpable thing now. Dax reached for him, his magic running along his arm like a natural extension of the limb, and he threaded his Skill into the rigger’s racing pulse. Dax’s magic rose to meet that frantic rhythm, and without thinking, he pulled it back, slowing the magic and Theo’s heart with it.
