When Ravens Call: The Fourth Book in the Small Gods Epic Fantasy Series (The Books of the Small Gods by Bruce Blake (books under 200 pages txt) 📗

He sighed, breath catching in his chest.

"Me and Rilum Seaman are the last two left, and I'm surprised to find you alive."

Teryk wiped a hand across his face and glanced at his white shirt, wet and stuck to his skin. He felt the urge to run his hands over his body, to search for injuries, but the pain he experienced came from knots and aches, not broken bones. No blood stained the fabric of his clothing.

He closed his eyes, remembering the rain and wind, the waves towering over the ship, the monster he'd seen jutting out of the sea. He opened his lids again, fixed his gaze on the captain.

"It wasn't the storm. It was the God of the Deep."

"That thing ain't nothing but a story to scare those who shouldn't find themselves sailing on this harsh mistress."

Teryk shook his head. "I saw it," he said then swallowed hard. "It saved me."

The captain's expression turned stern. "I saved you. Waves threw your noggin against this chunk of ship. I grabbed you and yanked you aboard before you sank."

The prince opened his mouth to relate the firmness under his foot responsible for pushing him up out of the depths and the gray flesh sliding across the ocean's surface. The look on the captain's face stopped him. His taut-pulled lips, his forehead and the corners of his eyes creased—a man who wanted to hear nothing of gods and monsters. "Th... thank you."

Captain Bryder nodded and diverted his gaze toward the distant horizon, his expression remaining unchanged. Teryk did the same, taking in the expanse of ocean.

"I never expected it to be so huge," he said.

"It goes on until it touches the sky in every direction around our home."

"But what of the land across the sea?"

"Hmph. As much legend as your God of the Deep." He faced the prince, intensity written on his brow. "What you know of the sea you learned from tall tales and bedtime stories."

A blush rose in the prince's cheeks as he again recalled the story of the sailor, his cat, and the whale. Might such tales, the God of the Deep, and the land across the sea, be merely fancy? Didn't stories have their genesis in truth?

If the land across the sea doesn't exist, neither does the man from across the sea. If the man doesn't exist, the prophecy is another fable.

The prince opened his mouth to argue the point, but Bryder continued before he spoke.

"This water be a dangerous beast without the help of stories and lies. You experienced it yourself; it devoured every soul aboard the Whalebone except for the three of us."

Teryk sensed the captain's intent to disguise the sadness and guilt in his voice, but it spilled over despite his best effort. He dropped his gaze from the prince's, choosing to stare at his off-kilter wooden foot instead of looking him in the eye. The prince glanced from Bryder to Rilum Seaman's back where he lay on the makeshift raft.

"Is he all right?"

The captain pivoted to glance over his shoulder at the other man. "As good as anyone who's lost his father on the Devil and his son on the Whalebone. He's been lying there since the sea calmed. Best not to expect more of him."

Teryk nodded. "And how are you?"

"My foot's crooked." He tilted his head toward the wooden block. "Otherwise, I made it through."

"I didn't mean—"

"I know what you meant," the captain snapped. "But you don't want to be asking the ship's master how he feels after losing his crew."

Bryder glared, but the prince refused to divert his gaze this time. He nodded once so he knew they understood each other, then allowed the subject to fade into the still ocean air. They continued looking at each other, the day suddenly heavy with the captain's mood.

"I know who you are. I recognized you the first time I saw you."

The declaration startled Teryk, and his eyes widened before he got his surprise under control. He looked away to prevent his expression from confirming the other man's suspicions.

"What are you talking about? My name is Taylor. I fell asleep in a crate and—"

"You're the prince of the Windward Kingdom, next in line for the throne. I met you once on the Devil before your father decided I'd become too old to command his precious flagship. Don't you remember so many turns of the seasons in the past?"

For a time, Teryk debated in his head whether to admit the truth or continue on with the ruse. He glanced out across the vast sea. Did it matter anymore?

"I remember," he whispered before looking to the captain. "If you knew, why didn't you take me back?"

Regret twinged in his gut; if Bryder had returned him to Draekfarren, he'd be home instead of floating in the middle of the ocean accompanied by two sailors and no hope.

And my quest to fulfill my destiny would have ended.

Bryder shrugged. "Maybe the king sent you to keep your eye on me, to make sure I could handle captaining the Whalebone." His gaze slid to his hands resting in his lap. "I guess I proved I wasn't worthy."

"We could do nothing. The storm was too much. The..." His lips shaped to say God of the Deep, but good sense prevailed. "The waves. Besides, that's not why I found myself on your ship."

"Then why did you?"

"My story isn't far from truth. I had no intention of being on the Whalebone."

"Aye, you didn't appear a man who got aboard out of a want to sail."

Teryk huffed a staccato laugh. "Nor did I intend to end up in a crate. And I never got my sea legs; not much of a sailor,