Between Wind & Water: Legends of Vioria, #2

By Shawna Barnett

The pirate is a fugitive. The queen is a witch. And history is coming back to haunt them.

The past haunts Captain Foley; it creeps into her dreams like memories from lifetimes ago. In the sequel to Windfall, Liana Foley finds herself on the run from a queen she once called friend. After another brush with death, she's caught. But instead of the noose, she's offered an opportunity to answer the summons from the past. On the other side of the continent, Queen Rhian searches, not only for Captain Foley, but for her identity—mother, ruler, mystic. But when Liana is captured, Rhian seizes the opportunity to find answers. To cross oceans for an enemy of the crown is one thing. But to reunite with an old friend to right the wrongs of the past is a risk the queen is willing to take.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hansen House
• Release date: Aug 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9781956037029

Book preview

Chapter 1

Descent

20th of Candelath, 1724,

The Capital of Caerwyn

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Rhian’s heart pounded so hard that she could feel it beating beneath her clenched fist pressed against her chest. She padded to a corner near the Harbormaster’s office and peered around it. Wiping her clammy palms against the inside of her thick, scratchy wool cloak, she stepped under the light of the full moon and skittered across the street. She weaved through the masses, drawn to the row of taverns near the docks. Men crowded the doors like vultures hungering after a freshly slain carcass. 

And it certainly smelled like a dead animal down here in the pitiful edge of Caerwyn’s mighty capital.

Rhian sidestepped what looked suspiciously like a puddle of vomit. The music from inside the buildings danced across the strings of countless fiddles and pulsed against drums with opposing tempos. She wondered who it was for. No one danced. Instead, they drank, even in the streets, cackling and leaning on each other. 

Someone shouted shrilly to her right, making her nearly trot backward into the vomit. She suppressed a disgusted shriek before choosing a door and scurrying through it. 

At least now she could focus on the music from one place. The tavern—Rhian hadn’t looked at the name of it when she rushed in—seemed more intimate than the others she had walked past. The people inside appeared to know each other well, all huddling close at their tables to talk. But as she stepped further in, she realized that they weren’t friends conversing at all. They were gamblers at their tables, poised so tense that it could only mean that they participated in a high-stakes game. 

Rhian spotted a single seat at a table near a pile of ale barrels. She took it quickly and adjusted her hood, careful not to show too much of her face. This was certainly not a place for a mother of an infant, let alone the queen of Caerwyn. But she had stubbornly left both of those identities behind the palace walls. Tonight, she was simply a woman, sifting through the night for what she needed.

Oi! Ye cheatin’ bastard!

Rhian started again, gripping the seat of her chair as a glass of ale flew across the taproom and smashed into the wall. Three large men pommeled into the fleeing cheater, who had barely been able to make a move to escape. He screamed, digging his fingers into the floor as they dragged him to the back alley. Another man of a slighter frame heaved a sigh and took up a meat cleaver from behind the bar. He looked solemnly dutiful as he followed them outside. As this occurred, the patrons began to beat their fists on their tables, not caring for the coins rattling and the cards dropping. 

Cut them off! they chanted, to the rhythm of the fiddle—or perhaps the musician took their lead. Cut them off!

Rhian’s fingers curled around her mouth, and the blood drained from her face. Bile rose in her stomach as she faced two choices: get out now or delve deeper into this frighteningly unfamiliar place. Peeling her hands from her face, she willed her pulse to slow. She pressed into her chair, observing, seeking the best avenue for the knowledge she needed. 

On wobbly legs, she stood and marched into the thick of it. She elbowed her way between a pair of husky shoulders. Pardon me!

One of their shoulders swiped her hood from her head, displaying her golden hair tied in a loose braid. Several leering heads turned toward her before she could replace it again. Intoxicated pairs of eyes tracked her, seeing not a queen but a pretty young woman alone. Tucking her braid back into her hood, Rhian backtracked through the crowd as several hands grabbed at her clothes.

Come and have a seat, sweet girl, a breathy voice, laden with ale, crooned in her ear.

Fear rushed through her veins, mingling with the magic that threatened to strike from her fingertips. She held them close under the woolen cloak. Wrenching herself free from a bony hand, she screamed, Touch me again, and you will regret it!

She could kill every last soul in this taproom. She could run back to the palace and blame the carnage on a kitchen fire or gunpowder explosion. She could get away with murder, just like she had before. 

Rhian had that power.

But, no. Not even the risk of ending one innocent life was worth it if she could possibly get away without bloodshed.

Still, her threat was met with a chorus of hearty laughter. She tried again.

I’m not here for you, pigs! She tried to say the words in a deep, commanding bark. But instead, they came out high with terror. 

Then someone tugged her backward.

Then what’re the likes of ye doin’ here, lass?

Rhian whirled around, coming face to face with a pair of stern, heavy-lidded eyes. The woman who owned them sneered and gave her a look over. I’ve been watchin’ ye since ye came through the door. Ye stick out too well.

The woman arched a brow high and, without a word of warning, gripped Rhian’s cheeks, squishing them between her thumbs so hard that her lips parted. Rhian slapped the woman’s hands away and straightened up. A few whines and groans of disappointment echoed around her, and she flinched.

Get on, ye filthy animals! She’s not for sale. Away with ye! Then the woman rounded on Rhian. And you, lass. Go.

I will not, Rhian answered, finding her voice more akin to how she wanted to hear it. I am here to ask after a friend.

The woman snorted, wiping the heel of her hand against her nose, then rubbing it against her apron. And what friend would ye find in a place like this one?

Captain Liana Foley.

More heads turned at the name. Even the dash girl across the room stopped in her tracks to look at Rhian. On the opposite end, the men that had been bothering her quickly fled their table, disappearing through the back door that led to the alleyway. It left Rhian quite amused. However, the woman she spoke with appeared to find it no funnier than a statue would have.

Then, as swift as a feline striking a mouse, she took Rhian by the arm and dragged her up the stairs. 

Again, she plotted her escape. But the plans were interrupted as she was tugged down the hall. A cacophony of sounds drew Rhian’s attention away momentarily from her safety. The unmistakable voices of men and women receiving pleasure echoed like a choir in mass. 

I–-Is this a brothel? Rhian tripped over her tongue, earning a cackling laugh from the woman as they entered a room at the very end of the hall.

It would do ye well to know what sort of place yer venturing in before ye go there, she said, slamming the door Now, tell me true. Are ye under the protection of Captain Foley, girl?

I can protect myself, she shot back and truly meant it.

Would ye prove it tonight? the woman challenged. 

Rhian accepted. She unfastened her cloak, throwing it violently on the floor. She raised her chin up and said, I will not be accosted or assaulted by you or anyone in this place.

The woman drew back and sucked in a shivering breath. She croaked, raising shaking hands as she fell on her knees. I–I didn’t realize, I didn’t—

I didn’t mean for anyone to, but that hope is gone now. Rhian crossed the room to the door and listened. When she was certain that no one was walking through the hall, she turned back to the woman. What is your name?

Celia, Majesty.

Not very many people would have recognized me only by my face.

I–I was present the day of yer coronation. When ye rode about the city, I saw yer face then.

That was nearly half a year ago. You have a good memory. 

Thank ye, Majesty. She stared hard at the floor.

I came here for a very specific reason, and I will not leave until I have what I came here for. Rhian narrowed her eyes. "What do you know of the Windfall?"

Celia audibly swallowed, trembling. A heavy pause tainted the air between them. Nothing at all.

You’re lying.

Nothing of importance, I mean, Majesty, Celia stammered. There isn’t a soul on these docks that hasn’t heard of Captain Liana Foley.

I need to know anything that I can about her.

Beggin’ yer pardon, but don’t ye have spies at yer disposal to find such things for ye. Celia was getting bolder, but Rhian didn’t find it unpleasant or bothersome.

She smiled wryly. None that I can trust.

And ye feel ye can trust the likes of me. Celia grimaced, showing a row of half rotted teeth.

I haven’t a choice, now.

Is it true that ye saved the captain from the noose?

The image of Liana, so weak and bruised under her hands with the remnants of frayed rope still around her neck, flashed in Rhian’s memory. Yes.

And do ye truly find her a friend?

Rhian swiped at a strand of hair that tickled the side of her face and cocked her head. You know her, don’t you? More than through rumors.

Celia’s mouth curved into a tight frown.

You’ve met her, Rhian pressed, doing all she could to stifle her excitement.

Aye.

Rhian lifted her hand, reaching an open palm to Celia, who stared at it dumbly. Stand up. Please.

Trembling, Celia let her ruddy fingers touch Rhian’s soft hand and came to her feet. 

I would reward you very well for any information that you have on Captain Foley and the whereabouts of her ship, Rhian said softly. She patted the top of Celia’s knuckles. I can give you money, and if I come to trust you well enough, I can offer much more.

That woman has done more for my family than anyone else, Celia whispered. I willnae be quick to betray ‘er.

Rhian shook her head. I am not asking that you betray her. She has done a great deal for me as well. I don’t know if I can trust the mouths in the palace that speak to me about her. In truth, I want to think the best of her.

What ye hear from them may be true, Celia warned. 

Rhian’s stomach dropped as she let go of Celia’s hand. What do you mean? 

She could be a Holy Guardian—if she weren’t so formidable.

Tell me how you know this.

Celia’s hand anxiously returned to her middle . In response, Rhian reached into a small satchel at her belt, fisted its contents and dropped them onto the little bed. Celia’s eyes glimmered in the candlelight just as the gold coins on her duvet did. She gathered them in her hands, so desperately that it made Rhian’s heart clench in sympathy.

Clutching the precious coins, Celia finally answered. My cousin is a member of her crew.

Where is he? Where are they? Please, Celia. Tell me everything, she said in a jumbled rush, fueled by hope.

I dinnae know exactly where. No one has heard of anything since they battled against the navy before spring and fled north. That is the truth.

North... Rhian muttered. I already knew that.

I’d wager that they haven’t been at sea much, Celia went on, since no one’s heard a bloody thing.

So wherever they landed, they likely stayed...

Aye.

Rhian stepped away, clenching her fists at her sides, still no closer to finding Liana. Six months ago, she had been fully prepared to let the pirate captain go, to see her sail away without any hope of seeing her again. But when word came back of the battle in Sulnath and the death of Aliah, Rhian needed to know what had happened. 

They had parted as friends, much closer than any relationship that Rhian had ever had before. She still remembered the warmth of Liana’s cheek beneath her lips as they had said their goodbyes. 

Och! 

Celia’s outburst brought Rhian back to the present. She looked perturbed and a little infuriated. Divine damn it all. I canna leave ye standing like that lookin’ so forlorn, Majesty.

I beg your pardon?

Captain Foley clearly has stolen yer wee heart, Celia said, as though she passively spoke of a loose stitch in her apron. 

I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean! Rhian’s nostrils flared, and she straightened up, haughtily. 

Celia rolled her eyes with a knowing grin. Her brown teeth flashed at Rhian mockingly. I know the look. Captain Foley has many of the doxies’ eyes on her. She’s got that way about her. I suppose if I fancied the women, she’d be one I’d turn to—in my younger days, I mean, of course.

If it means you’ll help me find her, then believe whatever you’d like! 

Licking her lips, Celia looked Rhian up and down. Have ye got more of that coin on yer person, Majesty?

Rhian scoffed, but nevertheless, reached into the front of her petticoat where she had hidden a smaller stash. That’s all I have with me. But if you give me what I need, you’ll have more.

As ye like. Now come with me, Majesty. I’d like ye to meet my husband.

They came to a door. ELLIS! Celia called, bursting it open, without knocking. At first, Rhian was under the impression that the room was theirs and that was why Celia entered so boldly. But in an instant, she realized that idea was untrue. 

The thud of a body hitting the floor made Rhian leap behind Celia, before she stalked toward her husband, laying on the bed with his bearded mouth open in shock. A woman, stark naked, scrambled for her clothes at the balding man’s feet. 

CELIA! WHAT IN THE DIVINE—

Ellis, get yer trousers on. Amelia, Ellis is finished with ye for the night. He has other company.

But he hasn’t paid me yet! the woman—apparently Amelia—whined, dropping her shift in outrage. 

Celia shoved one of the coins that she’d just received from Rhian into Amelia’s hands. Does this suit ye?

Yes, ma’am, Amelia answered, immediately satisfied. 

Rhian’s jaw hung loose, unable to believe her eyes or ears. When Amelia’s gaze met hers, she immediately looked at the wall. In response, Amelia simply pulled her shift over her head, gathered the rest of her clothes and strode into the hallway.

What is the meanin’ of this Celia! Ellis rounded on his wife, angrier than a rabid dog at the interruption.

I think ye’ll find an audience with the Queen of Caerwyn herself is much more important than a night with a whore, Ellis, Celia answered, tartly.

The q-queen? His voice changed pitch, his words released some spittle that landed in his beard from excitement. 

Aye. She’ll be needing all ye have to share about Captain Foley. Now, I must get back to work. Good night to ye both.

With that, Celia turned on her heel, gave Rhian a flourishing curtsy, and left her in the small tavern room with a strange, dirty man who had just moments prior had a naked prostitute in his lap. Ellis spoke the first word to break the stale silence. Yer Majesty, pardon me while I...freshen myself up. He hobbled to a basin of murky water and splashed it on his face. Then, he rubbed it over his bare chest and groaned in satisfaction as he scratched a bothersome itch beneath the patch of hair on his chest. After patting his face with a yellowed, sweat-stained shirt, he donned it and turned to Rhian. I assume my wife accepted a bribe of sorts.

Of sorts, Rhian agreed, nervously rubbing her collarbone.

Well then, he said, waving an arm. "What is it ye’d like to know about Captain Foley and the Windfall."

Your wife tells me that you have a family member in the crew. Have you received any communication from them since spring?  

Aye. We have.

Rhian tilted her head in surprise. Celia’s outright lie didn’t shock her, but Ellis’ openness did. She supposed that he felt it alright to tell the truth after his wife had approved of it. And?

"Last I heard, the Windfall was docked in Stonehall."

And when did you hear this?

Ellis pursed his lips. I’d say three weeks ago is when we received the latest letter. 

That’s not long ago, at all, Rhian whispered, mostly to herself.

Nay. They may still be there. Much of the crew has dispersed. Some are returning home, including our cousin.

So, she’s stuck there. 

He shrugged. It seems so. Unless she’s found a treasure on her way there, she either must pirate again soon or sell herself.

Cringing at the crude comment, Rhian snapped back. Is that what the letter said then?

She’s given each of the crew a stipend for travel after they were relieved of duty. I think it possible that she is in a desperate way. 

Oh.

Most would take one look at her and see a villain. Captain Foley is an honorable pirate. One of a rare few, and most certainly not like any of the ones ye’ll find here, he said. I’ve heard she always orders a shot across the bow, to give ‘em a chance to allow the crew aboard with no fight.

She glanced sideways at him, thinking his words to be the ramblings of a drunk. Why are you telling me this?

He rubbed his still damp hand through the thin hair at the nape of his neck. Might I ask what the captain has done to capture the ardent attention of a queen.

Rhian replied tightly, Your wife might say that I’m a silly lovestruck girl. The court would say that her return to the capital is necessary. She needs to be placed under judgment for my cousin’s death.

And what say you, Majesty?

I say that I need to see her. My reasons are my own.

Quite fair, he replied, coolly. Celia burned the letter, or I would hand it to ye myself. When or if he returns to the capital, ye’ll know.

Thank you, and please thank your wife for me as well. Rhian fastened her cloak tighter and threw the hood back over her head.

Might I advise ye, Majesty? Ellis said, as she turned to go.

Certainly.

Dinnae find yerself in this part of the capital again. It’s dangerous.

How else will I contact you, then?

He scratched again at his chest under his shirt, and Rhian wondered if he had a rash or mites there. She tried to keep her face straight rather than let it twist in disgust. He didn’t seem to notice either way.

Get my wife a job in the palace. It will make us more accessible to ye.

Rhian wanted to resist the idea, but he was right. She would not find any safety here. These pirates were not the same as the ones that she was used to. A hard bargain. But, fine. Tell her to come to the palace tomorrow at the servants’ entrance. I will find her a place there.

We would be mighty grateful, Majesty.

So long as no one knows that I was here, or that you are giving me any information.

I swear it, Ellis said with a wide smile, showing swollen and darkened gums. I swear it on all the gold in Caerwyn...so long as ye offer me a bit of it, eh?

Chapter 2

Number Six, Fisher’s Wynd

24, Cynefest, 1724,

Stonehall, Northside

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The lightning had been rampant this month, allowing Liana no sleep as it cracked across the black sky at night. The first storm of the summer left her sweat-drenched and paralyzed in her bed, terror keeping her limbs from moving. Sometimes Nellie stirred awake. Sometimes she didn’t. Even when she did, Liana always assured her that she was fine—only bad dreams. But the truth was that recent events had exhumed old childhood fears that she had thought long gone. 

Still, there was some hope of sunshine. The clouds above broke apart in a transitory state. It turned out that there were only a few weeks in the year during which the thick, polluted atmosphere was thin enough to warm the cobblestone streets of Stonehall.

The Heahnor River split the city in two. Liana came from the north side and headed south on foot. She’d just come from paying rent. Walking along the crowded lanes was—

A bloody nightmare, she frustratedly muttered to herself  after dodging a passing carriage. The streets were so damned narrow here. How stupid, she thought, to build a city in such a confined space. It was no wonder that Caerwyn had to move its capital city when it expanded south nearly half a millenium ago.

She set about the task of crossing the Heahnor. At several points, a pedestrian could get to the other side. Some of them—the sturdier, less crowded ones—required tolls. Seeing as how she’d just delivered a month’s rent, Liana found herself reluctant to stray from her budget. So she decided on one of the iron monstrosities that required no payment. She waited for an opening rather than shove her way through the throng. Liana was a short woman. It would be no good to squeeze between people only to be trampled. She slowed her steps, keeping pace with the current of the crowd, and lifted her sage green skirt to keep it from getting muddy.

Not again, she hissed between her teeth as she approached the end of the bridge.

They’d put another wanted notice up.

The rendition was quite unlike looking in the mirror. Still, she recognized some of her own distinguished features—her hawk-shaped nose, square face, and thick brows. In her opinion, the Liana Foley that looked back at her was a grim depiction and too serious to reflect the real woman.

In all, there were three notices side by side. Liana’s was in the middle. On the left were her brother, Ivan, and her quartermaster and previously her fiancé, Ameen,  , on the right. Theirs appeared somewhat more accurate, and she guessed the artist wasn’t used to illustrating women criminals. Still, she fancied them all a vicious-looking trio of villains.

Biting her lip, she tucked her chin in and passed the obnoxious wooden board. With a flip of her stomach, she hurried along, hoping to lose herself in the crowd. Her racing heart didn’t slow until well after she’d crossed the bridge and turned left toward the borough she now called home. 

Fisher’s Wynd, true to its name, had a consistently briny smell. Ivan constantly complained about it. The rest of them had gotten used to it. The fast-flowing currents of people in the streets were less than ideal for him to practice walking on his newly-fashioned prosthetic.

Before Liana curved her steps into the stone archway, a shadow appeared by her feet. Its tail curved around her ankle. Her worries melted away. Hello, Greg, she crooned, bending to greet the cat.

She wasn’t sure if the friendly black feline was a resident of Fisher’s Wynd or another street of Stonehall, but she often saw him sneaking about the archway and even sleeping near her door. After running into him so many times, she decided to call him Greg after one of her many childhood cats, Old Greg, a plump gray boy with a white belly who loved to lay in the sun who had been her favorite.

Oh, come now, don’t beg, she said with a sigh, as Greg bumped his nose into her palm. I gave you the last of my treats this morning. Apparently, he’d only wanted a few pets because he continued to rub against her, treats or no. After a few more scritches behind the ear, Greg followed her a few steps before scurrying off.

Third to the right and painted a dull brown stood number six. With so many people staying in the three story townhome, Liana was surprised to find it locked. She reached for the keyring at her hip beneath the tail of her brown summer coat. Even stranger, the house was quiet when Liana poked her head inside. Hello? she ventured, shutting the door behind her.

A scuffle at the stairwell caught her attention. A clack of wood against wood and a grunt of effort brought her closer. Then, she recognized the deep resigned sigh. Hello... said her brother, sullen and defeated.

She stepped lightly to peer around and up the stairwell. Ivan! What the hell are you doing?

He sat at the top of the first flight, fumbling with the side buttons of his breeches. With a low growl of frustration, he threw his free hand out toward his left leg. The prosthetic had slipped from his thigh. Just help me, would you? Before anyone else gets back—

Liana quickly swooped down without protest, knowing how prideful her brother was. She set to work on rolling up his breeches and resetting the leg. What happened?

I wanted a cup of tea. He crossed his arms in a very childlike manner. She had a fleeting thought that he’d been spending too much time with Bess’ children, eight-year-old Sebastian and eleven-year-old Beatrix.

And where are Bess and Nellie?

Out.

Your cane?

My room.

Why aren’t you using it, Ivan?

He gripped the rail to hoist himself up, stubbornly refusing her extended arm. I’ll never learn to walk without it if I keep using it.

The sound of the door opening made them start. Nellie came sweeping in, with a smile as bright as sunshine on her brown, freckled face. Ivan, I’m ba— She stopped short, spotting Liana glowering down at her.

Where have you been? Ivan fell while you were gone!

Liana, I’m—

Divine! Is he alright? Nellie rushed to them, dropping the wicker basket on the floor.

—fine. I asked Nellie to go. Ivan met them on the last step. He wasn’t exactly sure-footed on his wooden leg, but Liana had to admit that he managed better every day.

Then why did you come down the stairs when you knew she wasn’t in the house?

Ivan ignored her. Did you get the tea?

Oh, yes. It’s right here Nellie scooped up the basket and the small sack that had fallen out of it. She handed it to Ivan, who brought it to his nose and sighed dreamily. Do you have any idea how expensive this was?

What’s wrong with the tea we have here? Liana interjected.

It’s not this. He offered the bag out to her. She leaned forward and sniffed cautiously but was pleasantly surprised. It had a warm spiced smell to it, like cinnamon and something else—something familiar.

Is this Savarran? she asked, her memory reaching back. It reminded her of Caluz and walking along the docks there.

Ivan answered in the affirmative. A delicacy. Let’s put the water on.

As Nellie made her way to the kitchen, Ivan went to the sunroom. His steps were still awkward. He laboriously lumbered rather than walked. It made Liana nervous, but she bit her tongue and followed just behind.

Spoiling ourselves, are we? Liana sank across from him at the little table by the window. There wasn’t much of a view, just the dank alley, so they kept the curtains drawn. He gave her a guilty look.

Don’t we deserve it? He flashed a charming grin. She kept a straight face, and his smile subsequently fell. All right. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been kept in this house for months. I needed a taste of the world. Do you know what I mean?

I think I do, she answered, having felt rather cooped up herself. Liana was used to life at sea. This was the longest she’d stayed in one place since she’d purchased the Windfall. But we need to save our money. We can’t exactly get regular old jobs, you know?

Sorry.

I can’t be the only one who worries about these things, Ivan.

Aye, aye, captain. He winked, but she continued to frown.

It’s not a joke.

I’m not joking. I’m just speaking your language.

She rolled her eyes as Nellie came to join them.

As they settled into a lapse of comfortable silence, Liana had to admit that it was nice; the three of them sitting together, enjoying each other’s company. It felt good to be together again, especially in the wake of losing Marin, Nellie’s father by blood but father to them all in spirit.

About a quarter of an hour went by until the peace shattered like a broken window. They heard them coming from the end of the alley—a child’s frantic wail and a mother’s sharp tongue. The door swung open and a black-haired girl scampered in. Without stopping for thought, she rushed over to Ivan.

Trix, what did you do? he asked, stricken. Before Beatrix could answer, her mother dragged her brother inside by the elbow. The boy had a glob of something sticky and translucent smeared across the side of his head.

What is that? Nellie clapped a hand over her cheek.

Honey, she said, exasperated, before turning to scold her daughter. Beatrix, warm some water, like I told you! Don’t hide behind Vanya, he’s not going to save you—

He started it! Bea exclaimed, popping her head out from around Ivan’s shoulder.

I did not!

Bess ushered Sebastian to the stairs. "Go take off your clothes. Now!