The Blue Woman and the High Wood
Book Two in the Nyla Series
Adam Cole
(C) 2013, 2016 Adam Cole
Published by Nuncici Press, an imprint of Adam Cole Works LLC
Three people and a sword were waiting in the sun on a rotting dock. The ship on which they were to depart stood at anchor just on the other side of a narrow tin gangplank. Except for the sword which hung in an ornate scabbard on the warrior’s back, the ship was the nicest thing you could see in the port town of Folio.
Folio was the only town on Veer Isle, a small two-mountain island known for its criminal element and its inhospitality. The three on the deck each had their story of how they got to Veer Isle. Not one of them could have said exactly what the other two stories were.
It was a pleasant enough day in Folio. Majestic cumulus clouds billowed at eye-level a mile out to sea, witnesses to the three characters’ departure. A light breeze blew them slowly to the right across the restless waters.
One by one, each of the people on the dock took a step forward to cross the gangplank and approach the ship.
The first was a woman named Chere who, from her grim bearing, could have been much older than she appeared to be. Her face, though soft and beautiful, was always held in a hard expression. Her thick red hair had been tied up against the sea wind in a formidable knot that had been wrapped around itself. She wore the only dress she had, green like her eyes and thick enough to keep her against the wind. The long boots she had recently acquired wobbled uncertainly as she crossed to the ship.
The second, a girl called Nyla, looked none too pleased about crossing the water. In fact, she stopped midway to peek down at it and get her bearings. She wasn’t particularly afraid of the ship as much as crossing the ridiculously narrow ribbed board, slippery with sea scum. Her hair was tied up in a number of small twists against her chocolate brown, shiny scalp, and a long thin box was strapped to her back. Her face was still a child’s face, scrunched and cute, but like the woman, she too had some sadness that advanced her age.
The last to cross the gangplank seemed by comparison younger than he looked. Vival, a man of about twenty-six, muscular and broad, kept the grim, determined look of someone used to doing necessarily difficult things. Even so, he did not seem weary like the others as he easily forded the waters of the harbor.
The sword went with the man. It sat quietly in its scabbard. At least for now. It had a tendency to talk. It’s name was Tom.
The ship was a galleon of a reputable size. It was a substantial enough craft that the girl, Nyla, felt somewhat reassured of her safety on it. But not entirely.
“A boat this big tends to stay upright,” Vival told her. He had seen how nervous she was, her eyes looking every way. Nyla did not thank him for his concern.
Instead, she acted like she wasn’t scared at all. “I know,” she said, a little too loudly, sticking out her nose. She glared at him briefly.
Vival, who after several days spent in close quarters with Nyla was somewhat used to her responses, ventured a question that he had been meaning to ask ever since he had found her on Veer Isle only a few days ago. “Was this the kind of ship you sailed on when you came here?”
If Nyla had felt challenged by his reassuring comment, she was absolutely terrified of his question. Her eyes rolled back in her head briefly and she turned away. Quickly, she walked down the deck, putting as much distance between them as she could.
“What did I say?” Vival asked himself.
“‘Was this the kind of ship you sailed on when you came here?’” The voice sounded almost exactly like his, only tinged with a metallic ring. It came from his back.
Vival fumed. “Tom!”
“How was that?” asked the sword. “I’ve been working on my impressions. Were you fooled?”
“You mean, did I think you were me?” exclaimed Vival sarcastically.
The third passenger, who seemed to share Nyla’s concern, if not about the ship, then about life in general, saw the girl moving away. She glided over to catch Nyla in the corner of the deck. The young girl looked out across the harbor, pretending she was interested in the rotting moorings that surrounded them.
It wasn’t much of a sea-port. A few skiffs hung sail-less against their moorings, looking as much abandoned as anything. Some seagulls came wafting about the tops of the sails and finding nothing, slowly glided towards the shore.
“Are you okay, Nyla?” the woman asked.
Nyla looked at Chere, not without some gratitude. She liked the woman and, after what they’d been through on the island, considered her a friend. Then again, Nyla couldn’t honestly say who her friends were.
“Yes,” she lied, trying to look brave.
Nyla looked into Chere’s eyes. “It’s Vival, right? I just don’t think I can take him.”
“What do you mean? What did he say to you?”
“He’s been trying to ask me how I got to this island,” Nyla told her. “Where I’m from.”
Chere did not answer right away. The truth was that she also wanted to know where Nyla was from. Vival had brought Nyla out of Mount Ingfier, the taller of the two peaks that dominated Veer Isle, because he’d been sent by a witch to rescue her. Along the way, they had discovered Chere in the port town where she’d been trapped for a long time and offered her a chance to come with them.
Nobody thought Nyla belonged on the island. She was never a part of the Kingdom Under the Mountain where she had been found. And so the question of who she was and how she got there had never been satisfactorily answered.
“Why don’t you tell him you don’t want to talk about it?” Chere replied.
Nyla squeezed her eyes shut. It was as if just having the discussion was painful, even with someone who wasn’t demanding to know the answers. “Never mind,” she muttered under her breath. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m trying to under—“ Chere started to say. But her words were cut off by the sound of a huge ram’s horn, blown by a man at the bow of the ship.
Within a short time, the ship was unmoored from the docks and was making its way slowly out of the harbor. A slight breeze had begun to blow, a promising sign for the young Captain that made his way along the deck, sounding it with his brisk footsteps.
He stopped in front of Vival. “I hope you all will be comfortable in the quarters we’ve arranged for you. Goodfella has paid for your trip in full, but we’re not a luxury craft here.”
“That’s okay,” said Vival, “We’ll manage.” They had each been accustomed in their own ways to sleeping under less than ideal circumstances. And the quarters, when they surveyed them, were quite cozy. Two of the officers had given up their cabins so that Vival and the ladies each could take a room to themselves. Apparently, Robin Goodfella, the gangster who now ruled the island and who had booked their passage on this ship, wanted to ensure that they had a pleasant voyage.
“Can I sleep with Tom?” Nyla asked, as she looked over her hammock. It was worn and smelled a bit of sailor, but she thought it would be comfortable enough.
Vival’s shoulder twitched. “I’m not sure I want to be without a sword,” he said, looking over his shoulder.
“I don’t think there’s anything to worry about on this ship,” said the sword quickly from his scabbard. “The Goon has made sure to get us safe passage because he doesn’t want us coming back.”
Vival hated the way the sword spoke about itself like it was one of the traveling companions. As a talking sword, Tom was a little bit of a pest. Even so, Vival had to admit he was often surprisingly helpful. More importantly, Nyla loved him.
“I’m not so bad with a sword,” Chere reminded Vival. “And we’ll need it more than you will.”
“That’s fine,” Vival said. “Tom snores anyway.”
“I do not!” argued Tom. Vival smiled, having gotten the better of the sword for once.
Nyla removed the long thin box from around her chest and laid it on the hammock. It had only been a short while since she’d last opened it, but she took comfort from what was inside. Cracking the box, she moved a thick cloth to reveal an ornate old bow, not the kind used for shooting arrows, but the kind a string player would keep.
Vival looked over her shoulder. “You’d better put the Reign Bow away,” he said. “The weather’s not good for it on a ship. And it might get lost…”
Glaring at the wall and sighing audibly, Nyla covered up her treasure and stowed the box.
More about The Blue Woman and the High Wood
Now that Veer Isle was secure, it was time for the hero Vival to take Nyla to see the Sand Witch. Accompanied by Chere/Sherluck and Tom the Incredibly Helpful Sword, Nyla and Vival board a ship bound for Zen.
But trouble begins as soon as the ship leaves the harbor. A terrible storm comes up. The sailors want to throw Nyla from the ship. And rising out of the ocean is the mysterious Blue Woman.
Adam Cole is an author and music educator in Atlanta, GA. He has written numerous books and stories for children, as well as a number of adult and non-fiction titles including Motherless Child and Seven Ways the World Can End.
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