Edda understood better than anyone there the truth of what was happening. She comforted Marika, reassuring her that all was forgiven. Surprisingly the other people in the room were unmoved by Marika’s tears or by Rufa’s sudden decision to execute Edda. Durak started speaking but fell silent when the kaplan glared at him menacingly. He noticed his new knife on the floor and ran over to pick it up. He reattached it to his belt, with only Edda paying attention to him.

“Why! Why are you going after my family?” screamed Marika.

Rufa walked over to the women. Looking at Edda, he said, “Will you tell her, or shall I?”

Edda looked at the kaplan with disappointment. “I had hoped better of you, Rufa, since you seemed more intelligent than your predecessor, but I was mistaken.”

“Bait me as much as you like. It only further confirms who I know you to be, prieteni.” Rufa stared into Edda’s eyes.

“What’s that?” Marika interrupted.

Turning to Marika, Edda calmly replied, “He is accusing me of worshipping Vadoma.”

Marika looked at Rufa, hoping to find some humanity. “Edda is many things, but she doesn’t have moonlight madness if that is what you are implying.”

Kaplan Rufa held up the silver diadem with a crescent moon. “What is this if she is not a follower of Vadoma.”

“That is my family crest. I am Kítos of Aeqor.” Edda calmly explained.

Rufa raised his voice. “Your family crest is the moon?”

Marika sighed. “Rufa, I have seen that thing on her many times. She brought it from Aeqor. The book over there with the whale on the cover is a book of children’s stories. She used to read them to Pétur when he was little.”

Rufa screamed, “Lies! Your eyes have turned blue, proving Vadim is displeased with you.”

Edda shook her head. “Each Aeqori family has a unique animal symbol in their family crest. Aeqori use curves to represent whales, fish, and dolphins. The curved ornament you see on my headpiece is the symbol of the whale. This should not be shocking to you as you have studied my people’s history. When I first arrived, you and Rybak were friends until you decided to pursue Marika in your youth. You asked about Aeqori culture and even borrowed some of my books to study.”

“All true. I learned many things, not just from you. The Ladri have an extensive library on your people and their beliefs. This is how I know you worship the moon Kítos of Aeqor,” accused Rufa.

Edda shook her head. “I do not worship the moon or any god for that matter. No Aeqori does. We are connected to the spirits, but not the gods.”

Marika agreed with Edda. “Rufa, this is true. Rybak told me when we were young that his family’s crest was the whale because they are connected to that spirit. Their ancestors were healers and musicians, which is associated with the whale spirit. It has nothing to do with the moon goddess.” Marika leaned over to Edda and whispered, “Who are the Ladri?”

Edda softly explained, “The Ladri is the religious order of all kaplans across Krása.”

Marika looked stunned. “Across Krása? I thought they were only on Monsa.”

Edda shook her head. “Not at all. According to the ancestors’ records, they were in Aeqor, Cael, and even Arenosa.”

Kaplan Rufa bellowed. “Enough of this chatter. Listen all of you. The whale spirit is also the Aeqori moon spirit. What one people call a spirit could easily be viewed as a deity by another. Isn’t that right, Edda?”

Durak had been listening more intently than usual. He mused loudly, “How can the whale spirit also be the moon spirit? The moon lives in the sky, and whales live in the sea. And everyone knows whales can’t fly.”

Some people present groaned at Durak’s comment while others chuckled. The kaplan looked at Durak and mouthed the word “Quiet,” prompting a softened apology.

Edda broke the tension in the room. “The young man is not wrong to point that out.”

Rufa furiously retorted, “Don’t be clever with me, woman. We both know the moon spirit in Aeqori legends transforms into a whale to gather the medicines it uses in healing. The five major Aeqori spirits all hold elemental and animal forms.”

Marika dismissingly objected, “That doesn’t mean they are the same. I once met a traveling Caeli warrior that swore his god of smithing was Vadim himself.”

Edda raised her hand to quiet Marika. “Marika, thank you for defending me, but Kaplan Rufa is not entirely wrong. Koholā is a spirit that transforms into a whale and gathers medicine from the sea. For those she cannot save, she sings songs of remembrance. The Aeqori believe that when we die, our spirits journey to the moon until it is time to be reborn by the sea. My ancestors were healers and singers of sacred songs. It is only logical that we should honor her with friendship and respect.”

“Then you admit you are friends with the moon,” connivingly uttered Rufa.

“If you leave Pétur and Marika alone, I will confess to whatever you need me to,” Edda sighed.

“No, Edda, stop. You don’t need to do that. None of us have done anything wrong,” Marika insisted.

Rufa smiled grimly. “I don’t need your confession. Everything I have heard has proven your guilt. You have been infected with Vadoma’s madness, and by your blood, so has your grandson. The only question I have is for Marika. Will you stand with your people or this foreigner in your fate?”

Marika flew into a rage. She stood up and stormed over to the Kaplan before being restrained by one of the kaplan’s men. “You are insane. This whole town is insane, and I am done with the lot of you. Leave my family and me alone!”

“What wrath the flower has,” chuckled Kaplan Rufa.

Marika stomped on her restrainer’s foot with enough force to produce an audible cracking sound. She quickly elbowed him in the stomach, causing him to fall in pain. Swinging her arm back, Marika punched Rufa in the face knocking him over. “Rufa, you can go straight to Zale!”

From the floor, Kaplan Rufa looked up at Marika standing there. “You will join the rest of your family in their execution.”

“No, we will not. We are leaving!” Marika looked over at Edda, standing with her hands clasped in prayer.

“Where do you think you are going?” Kaplan Rufa’s eyes pulsed black, causing the small crowd of churchgoers to surround Marika, leaving Edda and the doors unguarded.

Despite the chaos, Edda had been quietly humming this whole time. She seemed to garner the attention of Durak, who found the strange little tune amusing. She sang aloud, “Spirit of my blade, the music calls. Rise up and dance to cut them all!”

Everyone turned around in bewilderment as the kaplan got himself to his feet. Within seconds the old Caeli knife cut itself loose from Durak’s belt. Durak’s severed belt and pants hit the floor, exposing his undergarments to everyone. The Monsans jumped back behind Kaplan Rufa in fear, having never seen magic before. The knife floated, spun, and threatened the zealots. It slowly drove them back towards the altar.

“Marika, let’s go,” Edda urged as she backed out slowly towards the main entrance. Edda slid the bucket towards the center aisle using her foot.

Durak picked up his pants quickly, realizing his situation. He was oblivious to the floating knife being preoccupied with retying the red cord that once held his pants up. He began muttering to himself. Although no one noticed, it was a nursery rhyme he learned as a child about tying one’s belt. Marika shook off her disbelief and followed Edda, accidentally bumping into Durak. His pants fell again as he let out a groan in frustration. Speaking faster, Durak completed the rhyme, thus resolving his public indecency. He finally looked up to discover what everyone was afraid of. He joined the crowd in his terror.

Rufa focused his energy on pushing everyone past their inherent fear. “Go get them now!”

They charged with Durak at the head of the crowd. Without looking where he was going, he stepped into Edda’s bucket. Still attempting to run, he fell to the ground unceremoniously. Like dominoes, the entire group tumbled to the ground, one on top of the other.

Rufa started screaming, “Fools! All of you. May Danion take your lives, you incompetents. Now get up and get them.”

The knife zipped back to Edda’s hand, with Marika looking back in amazement. “Later, dear. We need to run.”

Marika pushed open the doors. They fled the church moving as fast as Edda could, which was not very fast. They made it to the beginning of the market when Edda realized they were not being chased. Exhausted, she sat down in a nearby chair to catch her breath. Marika nimbly jumped onto an empty table to scout the path behind them. She looked at the church and was horrified by what she saw. The churchgoers had been stopped in their tracks by a dire wolf almost double the size it should have been. Its eyes glowed like burning sapphires.

“What in all of Krása is that?” Marika belted out.

“What is it?” Edda questioned.

“A giant wolf! It almost looks like the statues of Danion. It is preventing everyone from leaving the church.” Marika stepped down from the table. “I think we may actually be able to get away.”

“A giant wolf? Maybe the wolf spirit has finally come to his senses. Regardless, we shouldn’t waste this opportunity. Let’s head to the docks. I know someone who can help us escape the island and rendezvous with Pétur.” Edda stretched her legs before standing back up.

“Is Pétur on a boat?” Marika panicked.

“Yes, and safe from the kaplan as we will be, now let’s go.” Edda grabbed Marika’s hand, pulling her on their way to the docks.

***

Pétur awoke to Wilk licking his face and whimpering quietly. He realized that he had fallen asleep after his barrel was loaded. Strange rocking motions alerted both of their sensations as a new experience. They could feel the pull of gravity tug at them in different directions gradually. Pétur tried to glean where he was through the cracks in the barrel, but all he could see was shadow and light. Listening closely, he heard two distinct voices. The first he recognized as the man Bydlę had negotiated with, whereas the second voice was unknown. Pétur could not tell if this second voice belonged to a man or woman because of its pitch and pleasant nature. The rocking intensified, making the confinement in the barrel unbearable for Wilk. He started to scratch the sides, unresponsive to Pétur’s hands. Finally, like all pups, Wilk howled. Despite Pétur’s shushing sounds, Wilk’s volume only got worse. With no warning, the barrel came crashing over to its side. The lid popped off, revealing Pétur and Wilk as they spilled out onto the deck.

“Well, look what I found in our bait barrel,” the softer voice said, walking around from the back of the barrel.

Pétur froze in fear, unsure of his surroundings. He noticed the speaker was a younger effeminate blonde man whose complexion was like all Monsans but with slightly more sun exposure. He wore a thin white shirt with blue pants tied off at the ankles. There was an unusual way about him that blended male and female attributes beautifully.

Dulani walked over to see the commotion. “Special cargo, my rudder! That lying cheese monger has me delivering Monsan children. I am not dealing with this. Boy, you will need to swim home.”

“Dulani, give the boy a break. From the looks of it, he’s been in there for a while. Can you move?” The man extended his hand towards Pétur.

Pétur struggled to move his legs because they were stiff as if asleep. He took the man’s hand as he was pulled to his feet. Wilk needed no excuse and bolted. He began running around the ship to inspect his new surroundings.

“I don’t know how to swim, sir, and I’d rather not go home right now, please,” stammered Pétur.

Dulani’s rolled his eyes. “You tell him. I refuse. I am going back to mending the net you broke earlier.”

Wayde smiled and warmly greeted Pétur. “Gladly. I am Wayde, and this is Dulani. What’s your name?”

“I am Pétur, sir.” He called Wilk over to him. “This is my wolf, Wilk.”

Wayde reached down to pet Wilk who playfully snapped at him. “I guess Wilk doesn’t like me.”

“No, that’s not it. Wilk is at that age where he nips at everyone. He once bit my mother’s finger, and she …” Pétur trailed off because he remembered Marika and Edda were still trapped by the kaplan. His eyes began to well up, much to the surprise of everyone.

“Not only did he give us a child, but a broken one at that. Boy, why are you crying?” Dulani insisted.

“Hush and go mend the net. It’s ok, Pétur. I am sure you have your reasons. I suspect something bad had to have happened if you needed to hide in a barrel and leave your home.” Wayde reached into his pocket and handed him a beautiful silk embroidered handkerchief. It was predominantly white, containing a laurel wreath in the center. “Dry your eyes on that.”

Dulani groaned. “Always with the polite. I do not understand you, Bianchi. Be more direct. It’s much better.”

“It is better at getting to the truth, but it isn’t nice,” Wayde grumbled.

Dulani snapped back. “What good is nice? Nice does not make you strong. It does not feed your family. It does not ….”

“… fix the net,” interrupted Wayde. Wayde impishly grinned at Pétur.

“Which you tore because you caught a shark! You’re lucky to be alive.” Dulani playfully mocked Wayde.

The door to the cabin burst open behind Pétur. “What is all this noise? Can you two just do the work I pay you for instead of fighting?”

Pétur spun around after hearing a familiar voice. Psarás was standing there in shock, seeing Pétur and Wilk on the boat. Pétur’s eyes started watering again like small rivers.

“Pétur? Are you the special cargo …” Psarás burst into laughter. “Come here and greet your godfather!”

Dulani smugly commented quietly, “Of course, they are related.”

Pétur ran over as fast as he could. His emotions were racing wilder than the sea itself. “Psarás! My eyes didn’t turn gold, and the kaplan tried to execute me. Mother and Babka are trapped, and Bydlę … he saved me and Wilk and … and ….”

Psarás grabbed Pétur’s head and pulled it towards his own, so their foreheads were touching. He stared into Pétur’s eyes and began breathing deeply. Psarás moved Pétur’s hands to his head so they were locked ceremoniously. As Pétur exhaled, Psarás inhaled, and vice versa. This rhythmic breathing continued for a few moments, somehow calming Pétur down.

Psarás released Pétur and hugged him. “You’re going to be ok. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Edda and Marika will be ok too. Have faith in the spirits. They are with you and your family.”

Pétur wiped his eyes with the handkerchief. “Was that the magic Babka was talking about?”

Psarás raised one eyebrow. “Magic? I don’t have any magic. That was a traditional Aeqori greeting for close friends and family. I find it calming and figured you would too.”

Pétur returned the handkerchief to Wayde, thanking him. He picked up Wilk and scratched behind his ear, much to the pleasure of the pup. He looked over at Dulani and smiled nervously.

Dulani examined Pétur looking for any sign or muscle. Disappointed in Pétur’s apparent lack of hard work or skill, he spoke, “If you are going to stay, then you need to work. We will need extra fish to feed you both.”

Pétur nodded in agreeance while Wayde and Psarás laughed. Wilk howled, confused by the loud laughter. Dulani shook his head, trying to conceal his smile. Pétur noticed and finally felt at ease. He had dreamed of the sea his whole life, and now he was finally on a ship with his father’s best friend. He focused on the happiness of this notion over the inherent distress for his family.