Again, Rina walked down a dark and narrow stairwell. Again, the world closed about her like a funnel-web spider, wrapping its legs around its prey, pulling them into a damp and dingy world.

Mage lamps lit this level, filling it with their green glow, their footfalls echoing around them. The first room to their left was filled with rows of empty hammocks, some with brown hemp bags under them—where the chosen stayed, Rina presumed. Pausing a moment, she peered inside and gulped. Three portholes lined the hull wall, and sea-green luminescence filtered through the glass, casting ripples of light and shadow across the walls. Tiny brass handles perched at the edge of each window.

The glass must be thick, to hold against the water. No doubt the Carnelian Way used to keep them in place.

A syren could tap on it, though. Sing through it. Break the spell, and seduce one of the room's inhabitants to twist one of those seemingly innocent handles, and ...

She inhaled, quick and shallow, turned on her heel and hurried after Sara.

They proceeded through the long corridor, and it felt like they made their way to the ship's heart. Rina imagined the walls beating and pulsating in the gloaming, like they were in a living, breathing, eating thing. The air congealed into something she could barely swallow. The spectre of a syren trailed them, making itself known by the shadows that danced through the lantern light, skirting the streaks of yellow and the flashes of black that crowded her vision.

"Sara," she said, at last, holding to the edge of a doorframe.

Sara stopped, dark brows drawn in concern.

"I just need a moment to myself." Her words came in a pant. She felt weak and small and wanted to melt into the gloom.

Sara's smooth forehead creased, but she nodded, and said, "If you must. Breathe deep and continue the exercises I taught you. I'll check in on the others and be back for you in a few minutes."

Rina could only manage to give a return nod, nails digging into the wood as she held herself. After Sara turned a corner, Rina let herself crumble to the floor. Her back rested against the frame, and she pulled her knees up to her chest, folding her arms around them. It took all her willpower to focus on her breath, slowing it down and imagining Mai's reassuring presence.

Eventually, her heart slowed, and the streaks of light lessened. Her mind flexed enough to reason. Shadows from the ever-moving sea were no more signs of syren than moving grass was of a stalking varg.

Minds make monsters out of the moonlight, Rina.

The words of her mother made her skip a breath. That phrase was one of Rina's cherished memories, forgotten for years. With it came the phantom touch of her mother's long, work-calloused fingers stroking through her hair, and those startling yellow eyes as she was soothed from a nightmare. A recurring dream. One that had haunted her childhood. Of a dark figure scaling a hill of ash and bones toward a pile of scorched indigo cloth beneath a crumbling fortress.

Taking one last deep breath, Rina pushed up from the ground. "Minds make monsters out of the moonlight," she reminded herself.

"Hello? Nab, is that you?"

Rina froze and ducked into the room, tucking herself behind the corner.

The voice was female and close. A series of footsteps followed it, growing closer, then, "Nab, there you are. Where have you been? I've been waiting, and now I'm late for the Emperor."

Mai. No, she couldn't mean him. It wasn't possible. They sailed far out to sea. The last Rina had looked, the shore was as fine a line as the stroke of a fallen eyelash balanced upon a cheek. She knew the Magisterium could communicate between cities, with crystals keyed to different locations. What she couldn't fathom was how they might do this on a moving vessel.

The shuffle of another set of feet and the swishing of material slipped past.

"Magister Ro, forgive me. I'm here," came a breathless male voice.

Ro's words were brusque. "Where were you?"

"Sorry, Magister Ro. There was—ah, a disagreement between the captain's crew and the guards."

A feminine tsk. "What is it now?"

"The guards, they don't trust the captain. They say he is unnatural. That letting the girl sleep in his cabin will bring bad luck. They say—" The young magister's words halted.

"So tell them this is Mai's will. He wants the girl—in one piece. And he specifically told the captain to look after her. If we don't question Mai, then they have no right to."

"I know this, my lady, but—"

"No buts, Nab. Letting others question Mai's will is as good as questioning it ourselves. We don't do it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, magister."

"Hmm, better." A pause. "This is a critical time, Nab. With the weakening of the Carnelian Way, we need more."

Rina's ears twisted at the mention of the Carnelian Way. She'd heard nothing of this, not since that meeting with Media.

Curiosity ate away her fear. With breath held, Rina poked her head around the corner. Down the hall, in the direction Sara had taken, two tall, robed figures stood. Despite the dimness, she thought she recognised the magister who had nodded at Fin the morning she boarded.

The woman continued. "Can you do that?"

"I—I don't know. It's..." Nab fumbled. "Aren't we pushing the limit?"

"Do you doubt Mai, Nab." Ro's words sliced as sharp and steady as a cutthroat.

"No, it's just—they're dead tired. I don't want them actually dead."

"Don't be stupid." Ro turned from the man, toward Rina. Rina drew back. "I'm late. Just get on with it."

"Yes, Magister Ro."

The woman didn't respond. She walked briskly, and as she passed the doorway, Rina saw the blonde hair streaming from below her hood and the straight profile—the senior magister from that first day aboard.

When the magister's steps had faded, she peaked around the corner again. The other magister, Nab, still stood there. In the dark and with his cowl, she couldn't see his face, but his hesitation was evident. Rina bit her lip, considering what concerned him. Were they treating the prisoners poorly? The chosen certainly weren't—the cabin was spacious, and though simple, the meal had been no different from what the sailors ate.

Nab sighed, shook his head, and walked the other way.

Sara returned soon after. "Are you better now?" she asked. A lamp cast curling green shapes against one half of her face.

Rina nodded.

The chapel was around a bend, in a room at the centre of the ship. At the midpoint of the room sat a large Carnelian crystal upon a pedestal, emitting a faint, hum, just like a heart. Nab stood beside it, robes pooling to the floor, hood back to reveal eyes of such a pale blue, to be almost white, and plump red lips. His hair, the grey-brown of a fieldmouse, was slightly dishevelled, but beyond this, he showed no evidence of his previous discomposure.

Rather than the usual podium upon which the magister stood, the chosen sat on pillows, legs crossed, eyes shut.

Rina sat on a pillow near the outer back of the room. A creak sounded behind her. She turned to the left and noted a broad-shouldered form in the umber robe of an acolyte. Another stood to her right, arms crossed. Unlike in the Amadore, they did not hold the crystal stopped staff of their office, and she had the sense there was more to their role than a spiritual one.

As they had sat, Nab cleared his throat. His watery eyes fixed on Rina. "Welcome, you have been missed." Heads twisted to Rina like filings toward a magnet. "I worried you would not come."

Rina swallowed and forced her hands to remain unclenched. "I am not one for ships, it seems. But I am devoted to Mai."

"So the captain said."

"She has a phobia, magister," said Sara beside her. Her emotions took over, but she fought her panic and now—"

"And now she must devote herself more than ever," finished Nab. "Thank you, Sara. You have done well bringing her here to do Mai's bidding. This is a dangerous time. We must all be vigilant."

"Please, magister—" The words were out before Rina could think, and when she realised what she had said, she almost bit them back down. Yet the need to know had eaten through her terror, and now it gnawed at her like a half-starved rat. "What is wrong with the Carnelian Way?"

Nabs lips quivered, turning up in a semblance of a smile. "Child," he scolded, "if you worry about the Carnelian Way, open yourself to Mai. I can feel the roots of the taint spreading through you. The taint left rampant, that is what is wrong with the Carnelian Way."

The words both stung and made her cheeks flame. The man was not much older than herself, and this response crawled up to her tongue. Yet she knew truth lay in what he said. Afterall, were they not all children of a world guided by the Magisterium? And had she, among others, not denied Mai?

She dipped her head in subservience.

Apparently satisfied. Nab began the ceremony. At the familiar tug, she rejected the compulsion to shut the dam within her. Yellow streamed from her chest like a shimmering rope. Again, everyone else in the room was oblivious to it. Her eyes drooped. The Denese around her sagged. Then, so fast she could do nothing but gasp, an invisible hand seized the rope and pulled, dragging more and more and more from her body. She tried to stop it. Failed. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, as the light left her.

The world went black.

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"What in the seven hells do you think you're doing?"

Fin's words beat weakly at Rina's consciousness, like fists pounded against water.

"It was senior Magister Ro's orders." Nab.

Rina's eyes refused to open.

"She didn't tell you to kill them, you bastard."

Arms scooped Rina up. Her head and limbs lolled, the angle of her neck making it ache. Sensing this, one arm lifted higher, and her head rocked to rest against a belt buckle.

"Look at her—her lips are fucking blue."

Nab's voice remained firm. Petulant. "I followed my orders. She looks alive enough to me."

Rina moved through space, to the time of heavy boots. Her body bumped against another.

"Listen here, kid. I don't care if you're a magister or not, you do this again, I'll find you when you're alone, and I'll feed you to the karkars! Do you hear me?"

There was no answer.

"She's coming with me. See to the rest of them."

With Fin's movement, Rina's head tilted. She managed to pry one eye open a fraction, her eyesight blurred by a fan of lashes, enough for her to see the forms sprawled across the floor like discarded sacks of wheat before the blackness consumed her again. 

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A/N:

That's the end of Chapter 10. I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for bearing with the fact this is a draft. If you noticed any mistakes or inconsistencies, please let me know. 

Finally, if you enjoyed this chapter, please push that star—it makes me smile!

Jas oxox