AN: Man! This was the Chapter That Could Not Be Finished- first I was helping my sister work on her shooting, then I was sick and sleeping all day, then I had to take care of my little cousin-!

I'm sorry that there isn't much happening... that's why I tossed the storm in.... But the real action and stuff begins in the next chapter, when we finally reach Scanra! Thanks to my reviewers- Alliekat1996, Shang Leopard, Cymru na Alethaira, SarahE7191, Dragonfly257, Eternityfalls (telling you who the mystery man is would be no fun! And, yes, I do love Han's smack-down! ;D), and KyrieofAccender, my beta!


Chapter Eight

The Maelstrom

Deryne's braid flew up and around her in the gusts that heralded the coming storm; in the little light left in the sky, she could see the blackness of the clouds- not gray, but black, rushing towards them despite her cautious probes into the storm and the winds controlling it; Numair had always warned her that weather magic was tricky, and the squire was opting to let Cyne work with this dark wave from the sky.

Now, Cyne was reaching towards the storm with her magic; Merle and Brand stood on either side of her protectively, effectively warding off the hovering captain, while she stared into the water. She had been confident when the captain had asked her if she could tame this storm, but something about the winds that raced past her was nagging at Deryne; the gudruna were harsh and strong, damp with the scent of rain and a twinge of-

Deryne blinked as she recognized the taste of magic stored in the maelstrom, then swore. No wonder she couldn't redirect the gales bringing the storm to them; someone was controlling this, and the girl would bet every last copper she had that she knew who was behind this-

"Cyne!" She shook the girl's shoulder. Merle grabbed Deryne's arm.

"Not now," she hissed as Cyne started. "Don't break her concentration-"

The ship dipped suddenly, sending all the crew and passengers on deck flying sideways; Deryne jerked a hand out as she stumbled forwards, solidifying the air in front of them for a brief second to keep anyone from tumbling down into the waves. As she banished the temporary barrier, water sloshed over the side, soaking her breeches. Merle clutched Cyne by the arm, steadying her. Both girls were drenched with sea water, but Cyne didn't seem to notice; she met Deryne's gaze, eyes panicked, and the squire gave a quick, grim nod.

"What is it?" Brand looked from one to the other, and Cyne sighed wearily, tucking her dripping hair behind her ears.

"There's magic in that storm," she said, eyes narrowing as she turned back to the darkness. Deryne stared at the advancing assault; "I don't know whether it's meant to sink us-"

"-or test us," Deryne added darkly as she remembered the first time they had seen Malvyn. Though she had not known it until many years later, the mage had staged the kidnapping to test them both… to see if they were the "Chosen" ones he had been searching for. Cyne's startled eyes flew back to lock with Deryne's gaze; from the alarmed glint of understanding in her gaze, she remembered, too.

"But he knows," she whispered, checking that none were in earshot but her guards furtively. "He tested us." Deryne shrugged.

"This seems a bit more formidable than being chained to a wall with a band of Stormwings after your blood, if you ask me," she remarked dryly, aware of the absurdity of her comment. Cyne raised an eyebrow and smiled, but did not argue with the Tortallan's logic. "I can't redirect it," the squire admitted, and Cyne bit her lip in thought. Her bright eyes scanned their surroundings, her brow furrowed.

"And I can't do anything to change the natural course, either," she replied. Her eyes narrowed as she frowned. "There is one possibility…." Her jaw flexed. Merle, Brand, and Deryne looked on in puzzlement as their friend clenched the railing of the ship and glared into the torrents of rain making their way across the ocean towards them.

"What?" Cyne shook her head.

"I haven't tried anything like it," she said quietly, turning back to them with a wary look at the captain, who was becoming more agitated by the moment. Helplessly, she turned to gaze back at the storm before them. Deryne flinched as lightening streaked across her vision, and the thunder clapped in her ear like a dagger stabbing her mind. She quickly blocked out the gudruna before another sound could penetrate like that again. "Malvyn- it must be what he's trying to get me to do, but I-" A sigh escaped her, then she drew herself back up resolutely. She looked sharply at the captain and nodded.

"Your men should be prepared to sail quickly, as fast as is possible," she directed, voice projecting over the ominous rumbling and the waves slapping the wood of the ship. "Prepared as though the best weather and winds are before you." She turned to Deryne. "You need to send the ship through," she hissed. "Gales, straight north." Deryne's brow furrowed.

"What are you planning?" Merle demanded. Cyne's lips twitched as she turned back to the violent spectacle before them; as the clouds raced towards them, growing larger and larger as they neared, lightening crackled across the sky, enraging the waves that rocked the ship to and fro. Men began to mutter among themselves, making the Sign against their chests.

"I'm going to consume the storm," she said softly. Her three friends stared at her. "Just part of it; the part the ship is in. I'm going to clear a path for us to sail through." Just part of it? Deryne glanced behind them; there were three ships in total, and she could not tell how much ocean this monster of the elements spanned.

"Can you do that?" she asked lowly. Cyne shrugged. Merle glowered.

"You fought Kypria," Brand whispered uncertainly. "What's so different?" Deryne and Cyne exchanged a dark glance.

"I'm going to start," Cyne told them, turning back to the task lying before her, her voice noticeably nonchalant. "Deryne, you'll have to watch out for complications, and hurry the ships through; I don't know how long I'll be able to hold on." Merle and Brand did not like the sound of that, but they silently let her pass before glaring at Deryne.

"What's so different?" Brand repeated, eyes narrowed. Deryne sighed, reaching a hand back to fiddle with her braid. Why did Cyne saddle her with the explanation? Deryne suspected that her friend did not dare elaborate, for fear of Brand and Merle talking her out of it. The squire had an inkling of the caliber of magic the Kyprian princess mentioned, and she did not like the sound of it. Not with what she sensed on the wind.

"This isn't Gift we're talking about," she whispered. "Or wild magic." She knew the taste of both in her gudruna. Merle's eyes widened.

"So if it isn't either of those…?" she prompted quietly, glancing around them once more. Deryne grimaced.

"I think I know," she admitted softly. There was a familiar taint to it, one that put her in mind of a wild whirlpool of colors with no beginning or end, with a taste of hate and fury and deception…. "But I hope to the Gods I'm wrong."


On his father's orders, Cadel was looking for his sister, Vanora; on a hunch, he asked one of the older pages where Prince Leoraed was. He was directed to the library, where he did, indeed, find the heir to the Tortallan throne speaking to his little sister. They were laughing, and Cadel shook his head ruefully. His sister was only fourteen, but she had been a dainty, pretty lady since she was only five or six; he often wondered- amused- how his mother, Lady Keladry of Broakhale, could have given birth to such a delicate flower, but although Nora was small, she was still formidable in her own way; she knew how to use a glaive and bullied Deryne into wearing traditional women's attire whenever she could. In a few years, she planned to ask the queen if she could become one of Her Majesty's Ladies; Shinkokami's ladies-in-waiting had to grace the ballroom floors… but they also had to be ready to defend their queen if there ever was a need. Cadel was confident that Nora would be accepted into their ranks; she had already joined her mother in the morning glaive duels the queen had with her closest friends, and she was proper enough to befuddle him with court etiquette on numerous occasions.

And he suspected that Leo was very aware of what a lady Nora was… very aware.

Leo was only fifteen himself; his knight master had intended to take him south, but with Scanra's suspicious behavior and word of Malvyn, a traitor to the Crown, King Roald had ordered his son to remain in Corus for the time being; he had even called upon his father, the old king, Jonathon, and his wife Thayet to return to court. His Majesty obviously wanted to keep everyone close and ready for whatever Scanra had planned.

"Nora?" His sister started guilty; her wide, blue eyes caught sight of her brother and she relaxed slightly. Cadel had to suppress a laugh when he saw Leo's sheepish smile. "Ma had to leave, and Da got stuck with Cor." Nora smirked; she knew as well as he did what a pitiful sight their father was when stuck with their younger sister. Corine had her father wrapped around her little finger… and that often caused more trouble than a flying orangutan in a marketplace.

"Guess that's my cue to leave," she sighed, smiling at Leo before she curtsied. Cadel was intrigued by the way Leo blanched at her curtsy before she turned and walked out past her brother. He raised an eyebrow at the prince.

"You haven't broken her of that yet, Leo?" he queried, approaching the squire. Leo made a face.

"She does it to annoy me," he muttered darkly. "She'll sneak up behind me and tell me a squire should have better hearing with the impudence of a little sister, and then she'll up and do something like that." Cadel chuckled.

"She's a riddle," he agreed, thinking of the last time he had dueled with a glaive against her; he had been more rusty than he had thought he would have been, and had ended up making a novice mistake with which Nora had defeated him. She had been kind enough not to mention it to anyone… yet. A faint smile slid across the prince's face.

"Yes, she is. And you know how well I can read people," he said absently. If it had been anyone else, Cadel would have called out his immodesty, but with Leo, the statement was an unassuming fact, simply stated and true. "She's a very interesting person; she'll rise high in the court, even without your family's standing." A grin ghosted the knight's face.

Deryne had been teasing Nora about Leo since the two of them had first met; maybe the running joke had more truth in it than Cadel had first thought. Perhaps, for once, when his cousin returned, he would be the one with news.


Cyne slipped into the heart of the storm easily; her power came from the rain and the sea, from the dew of the clouds and the waves that sought to seize their vessel and drag it down into the depths. Closing her eyes, she summoned her magic and reached out to the strength of the water before her, around her… and began to draw it inside her magic, inside of her.

But it wasn't just the water she brought with her- there was a fire, too, a chaos of lights that insisted the hurricane stay on the course the fire had chosen.

No, Cyne whispered to the clouds. You come with me. This was her domain; no one but the Wavewalker was stronger here….

And the Wavewalker did not want her to die.

Slowly, the storm came to her fingertips, but the fire refused to leave it as Cyne reeled the unruly blackness deep inside her; it bit at her, gripped her as obstinately as she grasped the water imperiling them….

She sucked in a harsh breath as the fire of chaos snarled, but she continued, feeling the path their ships had to take… clearing the way until, at last, she reached the far edge of the nightmare, and the clouds finally broke to reveal the starry sky.

The flames hissed their fury at her success, but the battle had not been won yet; the ships had not even begun their sojourn through the chasm of fair weather Cyne had wrought. As they entered the canyon, walled in by the magical storm, the magic rushed over the girl, trying to overwhelm her, but she would not give in.

Fists clenched, blood draining from her face, Cyne widened the passageway through the storm…

And held.



Deryne's face was almost as ashen as Cyne's as she urged wild gales to move the ships through the channel; she understood why the crews- of all three ships- were so silent. The captains had had to threaten the crack of the whip before they could stop staring.

The storm had been almost upon them; Deryne could see the raindrops on the ocean's surface when Cyne's spell began.

A bluish-green glow had grown around her, a mist of eerie light that reached up to the black clouds and shot a straight path through the rain and the lightening before dividing the clouds in two, leaving a narrow passage through the storm, a canyon with rain and hail and bolts of fire and light as walls.

It had taken several sharp orders from Sir Alan and Aly- who had both finally come on deck to find out what had happened to their wayward charges- to get the men moving; it was with trepidation that they followed the course Cyne had set, and with more unease that they accepted the fierce winds that filled the sails. Deryne felt chills race up her spine at the violent storm clashing with the waves cresting on either side of her; if she had reached out, she would have felt the rain pounding down on the sea. She listened to the howl of the gales, the crash of the gyrating ocean, and the gentle lapping of the still water against the prow of the ship, and tried not to shudder.

Cyne was paler than Deryne had thought a Kyprian could be; the light of her magic made her skin look blue… as though she was drowning in the storm she had consumed. Sir Alan had brought several coats to warm her, but Deryne suspected the coldness her friend felt was not from the outside elements.

"She'll release it, the moment we're out?" Brand asked softly, hardly daring to break the silence. Deryne bit her lip; another gale shoved the ships onwards. She did not want to think about the answer; it made her wonder if the storm's magic would let Cyne go….

Protect her, Frejonak, she thought to herself. Yama, Wavewalker… keep her safe. She did not want to consider what would happen if they did not. The constant draining of her magic wore down on her despite the simplicity of the task; her throat burned, and her lips cracked as she bit down on them. It seemed to go on, and on forever… how could Cyne hold this?

"Ma'am?" Circles under her eyes, she turned to see the youth who had helped Cyne early, the one she had used her magic to feel out his intentions- earnest and harmless. She had heard the captain call him Kol before….

He held out a water skein, and she smiled wearily as she accepted it, hand brushing his as she took it and held it to her lips. Cool water poured down her throat, easing the ache and refreshing her efforts; she was surprised, in fact, by her sudden regain of strength. When she was finished with the water skein, she handed it back to the ship hand and gave him a real grin.

"Thanks," she said hoarsely, then coughed. Kol nodded, then glanced over at Cyne, who was swaying dangerously close to the end.

"D'you think she needs a bit herself?" he asked, hefting the skein. Deryne eyed her friend for a moment, then shook her head.

"I think she's got enough water in her already," she murmured wryly, noting how unaffected the boy seemed by the unnatural phenomena surrounding him. A ghost of a smile flitted across his face, then he bowed his head.

"As you say, ma'am." He looked upwards and smiled. "We're almost through, thanks to you." Startled, Deryne turned to survey the storm; their ship, the lead one, had broken free of the storm, which was receding even as the second ship sailed out of the gales- her gusts had been even stronger than she could have hoped- the water really had revitalized her power. Deryne held her breath as the final ship of the delegations appeared, and a silly smile spread across her face. She sagged in relief, winking at Kol.

"All thanks to you," she chuckled, thanking the gods for their escape. Her thoughts were too soon. A sharp cry tore from Cyne's lips; Merle and Brand staggered as they caught her as she fell, convulsing. Deryne was at her side in a moment, followed closely behind by Aly; without thinking, she eased herself into the Kyprian's mind, but before she could listen in, flames of magenta and green and blue lashed out at her, forcing her back. She collapsed in a heap next to her friend, gasping for air; she would recognize Uuasoae's bite anywhere.

She did not have the strength for this, not now, after the gales… and Cyne was trapped by the magic of the storm, unable to release it after she had consumed it. The squire watched in alarm as the princess moaned softly, shaking uncontrollably, her head jerking this way and that; she was getting weaker, by the moment-

Deryne almost tried to call upon Rikash, then, for magical help; he was the only mage close enough to her for her to be able to reach out over such a distance and find him. He was the only one she had ever really established a mental connection with; try as either of them might, they could not sever the tie. He was the only one that could possibly send her power… but he was also the last person on the earth she could, would, ask.

She clenched Cyne's hand, trying to lend strength to her, but the Chaos fire blocked her at every turn, feeding off of her feeble attempts; Deryne had very little healing training, and nothing like this….

Perhaps Rikash could have fought the multicolored flames, burned them at their own game. Maybe Han could have smothered them with his patient will. If Deryne had been the one in trouble, Cyne would have been able to quench the inferno.

But she could only further enrage them, feed them…. Tears welled up in Deryne's eyes as she struggled; she had to help Cyne, she had to pull herself together, figure this out…. Cyne had to fight, she had to be strong.

"Here," a voice suddenly said in her ear, with wavering confidence. The ship hand knelt beside her, taking one of the princess's hands in his. He rubbed it vigorously between his palms. "Keep her blood moving; keep her awake."

"Awake?" Merle echoed dubiously, staring down at her friend.

"Believe me- we'll know the moment she loses conciousness," the ship hand retorted, a wry laugh entering his voice. After a long look at the boy, Brand grabbed his friend's other hand and did the same. Business-like, Kol rubbed her arms and shoulders. "Stay with us," he muttered, with plea that seemed practiced, familiar to him. "Take off that blanket," he told Deryne. "She needs to be cold, to pull through this, cold helps magic, amplifies it-" He put a hand to her forehead, then came back to her hands, eyes narrowed as he studied her face. "Come on-" A grin flashed across his face as Cyne's eyes flashed open, the light of her magic glowing in her pupils; all of them ducked as the Chaos flames exploded from her, chased by a pure blue wave of power.

Then her eyes rolled up, and Cyne fainted into her friends' arms.


Rikash had not apologized to Damek, but he had not glared or abused him, either. Han was grateful for the awkward silence; it had taken considerable arguments to convince Damek to stay with them, although Cyne's presence in Scanra had gone a long way to winning her suitor over.

They had reached the City of the Gods on the Great Road, and would have to cross the border in a day's time. From there, they would have to assume the guise of young men seeking work in the capital city of Hamrkeng and establish contact with Deryne….

Han knew the easiest way to reach her would be through her mindspeak, which allowed for her to enter another's mind and talk with them… but he also knew that Rikash would rather invade the palace-fortress of Frasluk single-handedly than have her in anyone's head.

Passing into Scanra was uneventful; the small pass they used through the Grimhold Mountains had not had an outpost or guard of any kind, which struck Han as odd, but they rode north, then west, puzzling out a story which would satisfy their appearances, horses, and accents without too many questions. Even when discussing their plans, Damek and Rikash both preferred to address Han than each other, which made conversations, on the whole, absurd and comedic.

It was several days more before they gave up planning in favor of playing the whole escapade by ear; mapping out their journey seemed to provide more arguments than consensuses. Han was exhausted, worn weary by the halfhearted fights his companions constantly instigated, and he told himself that his deadened senses were the reason he had become paranoid; he felt as though they were being watched, despite the impossibility of it- the earth gave him no sense of danger, nor of any observers….

He wished Deryne was there, to reassure him that he was right; her gudruna were even better at that sort of work than his magic was.

But he trusted his gut, despite evidence to the contrary, and that told him there was someone watching, which made Han more nervous than fending off attacks; there was no way to fight off a gaze. Someone lurked in the shadows, waiting.

But only the Gods knew what they waited for.