Spellbreaker by Blake Charlton Page A

the secret sea village built by Leandra and her followers, was nothing so picturesque. There were no buildings on the outer island walls, nothing that would identify it as an inhabited island.
    But inside the island, the pool was nearly a quarter mile in diameter and surprisingly transparent. When sunlight fell onto the water, one could often look down through forty feet or so to see the bottom’s bright marine life. Near the high-water mark, carved into the limestone, were the docks and stores. Above this, in a nearly complete circle, was a row of deeply cut rooms covered with wooden fronts and connected by a sturdy boardwalk, protected from sun and rain by roofs of palm frond thatch. Two more levels were built above the first and connected by rope ladders with bamboo rungs.
    Farther up the walls, where they met the island’s top, the limestone had been carved into expanding terraces. With divine assistance, earth had been brought from the big island and placed onto each terrace so that each grew a particular crop: rice for the Lotus Culture, taro for the Sea Culture, chickpeas or lentils for Cloud Culture. A smaller terrace, directly below Leandra’s spacious quarters, held a young plumeria tree, which was slowly snowing pale blossoms onto the pool.
    Presently forty souls—most human, all refugees—called the secret village home. But work was underway on another level, and given that the limestone walls ascended nearly a hundred feet farther up to the island’s top. One day there could be as many as a hundred souls living in Keyway Pool. That is, if Leandra could keep her people and their cause secret and safe.
    As the crew docked the catamaran, kukui lamps flickered into brightness along the second and third levels, and one of the dockworkers lit two torches, the reflections of which danced on the water and attracted the sleek, dark silhouettes of fish.
    According to Sea Culture custom, Lieutenant Peleki accompanied Leandra onto the dock while brandishing the leimako to signify her status as the village’s chieftain. Dhrun, manifesting Dhrunarman, followed close behind. They were met by Master Alo, a sun-wrinkled old man with a long plait of white hair.
    Until twenty years ago, he had been the high priest of a Verdantine goddess of wildfire. Then the empire had deconstructed his deity and seized all of his order’s lands and holdings. A few co-religionists had helped him escape to Ixos. Ever since, he had served as steward of Keyway Pool.
    â€œMaster Alo,” she said with a nod. “It is always a pleasure to return to your sunny countenance.”
    The old priest regarded her with an expression that was about as emotive as a bucket.
    â€œI trust nothing urgent happened while I was away,” she said with a hopeful note.
    â€œNews came in from Chandralu by sea canoe last night. It seems a royal messenger appeared at your family complex yesterday evening. The Sacred Regent has summoned you to his court and was distressed that you could not be found.”
    Leandra winced. “What did his sacred majesty want?”
    â€œThe messenger did not say.”
    â€œHas my father returned to the city?”
    â€œNo report of that. But there is civil unrest. Apparently a fishing boat came back to the docks yesterday after going missing for three days. Half the crew lay dead and rotting on deck and the survivors were raving about sea ghosts or the Floating Island having come into the bay.”
    Leandra frowned. “That fairy tale again?”
    â€œThat’s what some rumors say. The crew was mostly Sea People. Some of their relatives blamed the event on a new neodemon from the Lornish immigrants in the Naukaa District. A brawl broke out in one of the Cowry Street winehouses.”
    â€œAny other evidence that the Lornish immigrants have formed a cult or a neodemon?”
    â€œJust more whispers about the Cult of the Undivided Society trying to speed the day of