-Learning the Sea-

As soon as the ship stopped, Jordan dove off the side into the shimmering teal waters. Cal had kept them on a rigorous pace, guiding the ship through the Glacian Sea and straight for the expansive Truscesan harbor. They would arrive tomorrow.

But before she was confined to land again, Jordan had asked Cal if he could stop The Heightened long enough for her to take a swim. He’d promised to take a break when they reached the coral trenches.

Jordan had acquiesced, content to use their time aboard the great ship to study her book, familiarize herself with every inch of The Heightened, star gaze in the nest at night, and tease Cal. Her initial shock at discovering Cal’s calling as lineal had worn away, like a stone becoming smoother with every wave.

Besides, he was all she had in the eternal stretch of horizon on liquid glass.

“Aren’t you coming in?” she asked, surfacing, her increasingly long hair streaming out behind her, the dazzling sun warming her skin and making every droplet sparkle. Her clothing hung wetly around her.

Cal peered over the edge, his curly hair blowing out around him. He was wearing his broad-brimmed hat to beat back the sun, although Jordan wasn’t sure why he bothered. His skin was almost as dark as hers from their constant time outside.

Maybe it gave him confidence.

“Someone should stay with the ship…”

“And who’s going to steal this big boat out here?” Jordan flung her hands out to her sides, gesturing at the obvious absence of other ships or vessels.

“Besides, other ships don’t stray from the coast, and we don’t reach the shores of Ealias until tomorrow.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to swim. That would be classic, given that you’re the captain.”

She heard a grumble, and then Cal was tossing aside his precious hat and diving into the sea, creating a massive wave that drenched any part of Jordan not already under the water.

“Don’t know how to swim… as though I would get on board a ship and not know… and to insult the captain…” he grumbled, his wet shirt accentuating the muscles in his arms.

“Sorry, your linealness,” Jordan grinned, diving under the water and splashing him as she kicked her legs hard. She opened her eyes blearily under the water and gasped. Even though her vision was blurred, she knew she had stumbled on the coral trenches. The explosion of color astounded her, like a million shades of Orenda put on display.

Resurfacing, sucking in breaths, she pointed at the spot below her and gasped, “I found it! It’s absolutely beautiful, although how do you see anything under the water? I could barely force my eyes to stay open.”

Cal, who was treading water close by with a smug look on his face, said, “Is the Forlorn warrior afraid to get her pretty eyes a little damp? Don’t worry, it doesn’t count as crying if you’re underwater, right?”

“And how do you see underwater?” Jordan retorted.

“Simple. Aboard The Heightened are some ancient spectacles you can fasten to your face. It makes it infinitely easier to see underwater.”

While Cal went to fetch the supposed devices, Jordan swam alongside the side of the ship, enjoying the chance to stretch and work her muscles after being stuck on the ship for several days.

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When he returned, he handed her a pair of the spectacles, demonstrating how to fasten them to her face by affixing his own.

“You look like a crazed alchemist with your curly hair and those strange glasses,” she joked.

“And you look like a fierce female blacksmith,” he shot back. “Now, go ahead, try them out underwater.”

Jordan complied, slipping back under the surface. The blurred world below the sea suddenly became another outer space, just as vast and alien.

Everything remained in crystal focus, and she could keep her eyes open easily now that the water was kept back. The spectacles seemed to not only keep her eyes clear, but magnify and enhance her vision.

Eager now to explore the coral trenches, she cut through the water until she found the colorful assortment of fish and plants she’d spotted before.

Another trip to the surface for air, and she dropped back down into the trenches. Coral rose up on either side of her like two bright, bony walls, all kinds of fish swimming in and out of the coral. They didn’t seem to fear humans, because several fish brushed against her bare feet or arms on their journey from one side of the gap to the other. There were no liffs or waterstallions here in the middle of the Glacian Sea this far away from the shore, but the creatures in the trenches were no less interesting and varied.

Looking around, she noticed Cal examining the coral as well, his bight brown eyes intent. His hair swirled around his face, giving him an otherworldly look. His large, broad form seemed smaller down here, like even the great Callan Shadows was expected to show respect to the prowess of the depths.

All too soon she was pushing to the surface, gasping for air, then diving back down, her mind a swirl of color and lithe, feathery and scaly shapes.

Cal never seemed to come up for air. Every once and a while it seemed to dawn on him that he might need oxygen and he would surface, but it seemed a little too casual, like an afterthought.

Some weird power associated with Orenda?

Jordan wouldn’t know. Her Orenda study had been dismal. She’d been unable to even discover the color of her power, if she had any. She’d been assured that all Forlorn had Orenda, but she had been the only one at the academy to pass through without manifesting any power at all.

The coral trenches had to go on for miles, although they were located far enough off shore that other ships and their crew would never discover the stunning secret unless they’d been apprised of it beforehand and had a means to stray from the safety of the Elisian coast.

During a rare moment when both Jordan and Cal were up for air, she asked him. “How did you know about the coral trenches?”

“Flage and I had a lot of time to talk in the six days we spent at Hyasin. I’ve always had a bad habit of wanting to know about everything, and he was surprisingly willing to humor my constant questions. I was asking him about the Glacian Sea when it came up. Apparently the trenches were carved out by some cataclysmic event centuries ago.”

“What event?” Jordan thought back to her history lessons at the academy but couldn’t remember learning about a natural disaster or creature powerful and massive enough to rip the ocean floor in two.

“I tried asking him that too. Said it wasn’t his story to tell, although he hinted it was in the books at Hyasin. I cracked some open out of curiosity one night, but I couldn’t read a word of the strange script. They didn’t seem to be written in Elisian.”

“They weren’t. I don’t know what the language is called, but my book actually has a means to translate the foreign text, so I can passably read the other language now. Not that it matters, now that Hyasin and its wealth of knowledge are behind us.”

Cal smiled ruefully and said, “If Flage were here, he would tell us to learn the sea from reading her scars.”

Jordan couldn’t help but steal a glance at Cal’s own scars running across his face. Most of the time she forgot they were there, although at first they had stood out like living nightmares, haunting her and piercing her as though she’d endured the searing pain instead of him.

And what am I supposed to learn from your scars, Callan? Scars I should be wearing… scars I still wear, just inside where no one can see.

But all she said was, “And what would she teach us?”

Cal seemed content to let the question linger, his attention already drawn back down to the trenches.

The question—including Jordan’s unspoken thoughts—continued to hover between them, a bauble left on the surface as they dove down into the sea’s scars.