1st 5 Pages March Workshop- Dunn Rev 2

Name: Loie Dunn

Genre: YA fantasy

Title: EVREN

Seventeen-year-old Evren isn’t afraid of the roiling waves and whipping storms of the high sea. With the power to navigate the ocean without a compass, she has nothing to fear out on the water—except for the Sea Queen. Only the Sea Queen with her army of water nymphs and sea serpents can disrupt Evren’s hidden magic and send her straight into the eye of a whirlpool. So, when Captain Sa’av, a handsome but secretive pirate, rows up to her dingy asking for her help to find the queen’s lair, Evren laughs in his face.

Until he offers her exactly what she’s always wanted: safe passage out of the kingdom and a chance to escape the cursed pirates hunting Evren to steal her eyes.

Evren agrees to Captain Sa’av’s request, but as soon as she’s on deck, the ship sails into darker waters and the Sea Queen begins whispering threats to Evren on the wind. After a side trip to the capital, the king reveals something to the two: the kingdom is dying. A rare disease is sweeping through the population, stealing the breath from the lungs of thousands. Captain Sa’av is convinced that Sea Queen holds the only cure. 

Faced with the Captain’s love for the kingdom—and her own changing heart towards him –Evren suddenly finds herself torn in two: She can face off with the Sea Queen, the only person she’s ever feared, and help the man she’s growing to love save the kingdom, or she can flee with his ship and claim the freedom she’s dreamed of her whole life.

*

Chapter One

*

Something wasn’t right with the sea.

Evren scrutinized the batch of red-eyed fish that hung from her long silver wire, their bellies abnormally bloated. That morning she had gone down to the edge of Ionoke Island’s best fishing nook, and found more fish washed ashore, limp and pallid.

She gazed out at the glittering water surrounding the island. The breeze flurried off the sea like invisible threads, tickling her face. Stepping into the water, white foam lapped at her boots and Evren leaned down to dip her fingers into the sea. Warm? Warmer than usual. Wrinkling her nose, she inhaled the tangy salty air. Everything looked fine from the outside.

The fish, however, told a different story: their home was in trouble.

Her neck prickled. Whirling on her heel, she turned to see if someone was there. The murderous pirates - the Naja - were looking for her. They wanted her eyes. Told her they were special. But she wasn’t going to meditate on that too long.

“Bastards.”

All I need is enough money to fly across the seas with the wyverns and leave this wretched place and the Naja behind.

Straightening her back, Evren gritted her teeth and peered down the main drag of Ionoke. It was busier than normal. She shot a glance up to the beaming orange sun. It was their sun goddess’ – Amataru – festival.

The shale cobblestone stretched forwards unevenly, rocks jutting out here and there. Evren shook her head, a sigh escaping her. She knew that in the capital, the inhabitants wouldn’t put up with the dismal surroundings. On Ionoke, poverty seemed to overshadow everything, like an invisible illness dragging down people’s spirits.

 Her eye caught the state of the local businesses. Little ochre and red brick shops dotted either side of the road, some roofs dilapidated, shingles peeling off in the blazing sun. Owners hollered across the street at each other, bargaining for better prices on dried fruits, leather, and spices. Some stalls were quickly whipped together with blue canvas to guard against the blazing sun.

She peered down the road and sighed in relief.

The old fisherman was all set up for the day. He would have that stall, hell or highwater, and that’s one thing she respected about him. It was a makeshift box, built together with scraps of driftwood and held together by ancient rusted nails.

“Olly!” She slammed down the string of fish on his table soaked with fish guts and blood, wincing as a silver scale dug into her palm.

“There ye are, the strange one with the sea-green eyes who always brings me fatter fish than the others.” The old man had crinkly black eyes and wild white hair that stood up in every direction. She noted one of his fingers was missing from his left hand. All that was left was a bandaged stump. That was new.

He peered closely at her find, the tip of his nose almost touching one of the bloated fish. “What the feck is wrong with them?”

“The wench brings you rotten fish, did she, old man?” someone snarled from behind her.

She swiveled on the heel of her leather boots, not removing the placid expression on her face.

Ugh. Parta. He was a real piece of work. Fellow navigator out of work. The supposed man of the town strutted around in his long velvet cape and boasted of great sea adventures he had been on.

“They aren’t exactly rotten,” she drawled, the wind pulling at the violet scarf tied tightly around her face, hiding everything but her eyes. “Rusalka wouldn’t let that happen.”

He frowned, eyes bulging out of a tanned face, copper curls wet with sweat and glued to his forehead.

“I overheard you saying you can get to Rusalka’s Lair.” Evren raised a dark eyebrow at him.

“No one can find her lair.”

 Evren turned to Olly and the old fisherman winked at her with a bushy gray eyebrow before busying himself with something below his stand.

“Well why were you telling Ms. Lemon the other day that you could?” Evren grinned as heat skittered across Parta’s cheeks. Ms. Lemon was the island’s lovely baker and supposedly, admired by him. Poor woman.

“Obviously that was a bit of an exaggeration. I can get to the Cove of Dreams and through to the Second Sea. But not Rusalka’s. No one can. She’s hidden.”

“I can.”

“No, you can’t.” Parta folded his tanned arms in front of his chest.

 The Sea Queen reigned over the ocean. Rusalka could call on her nymphs to lure men and women alike with their seductive ways to the cold watery depths of the sea. No one dared to go to Rusalka’s Lair nor would they ever be able to find it.

 Evren straightened and felt a small secret smile break across her lips as he continued to list the reasons why one couldn’t find Rusalka.

“She’s magicked her cove, so no one can find it. She has illusion spells hiding it from the most cunning pirate. I even heard she sends Deblonsk, the sea monster after anyone who gets close to her cove.” Parta finally folded his arms and scowled. “So, you see, what you heard was a lie. I cannot get to Rusalka’s Lair. You cannot either!”

Evren just shrugged. “Yes, I can.”

She could navigate to Rusalka’s Lair. Not without treachery and sea monsters and blood.

But she could, she was the best. That’s what the best did: they did the impossible. Evren wasn’t the type to go about boasting out loud of her great prowess in navigating. If only she had some of that expertise when it came to making friends, then maybe she wouldn’t be so lonely. Navigating was the one thing that brought her joy. Sadly, it seemed no one was hiring.

As if knowing she wouldn’t budge, he blurted, “Look at the fish you’ve brought.”

“Stuff it, Parta. These aren’t even fish, by any comparison. It’s all I could find. Oh - ”

Evren turned on Parta, his cavernous mouth opening to retort against what she had just said but paused.

One of Ionoke’s inhabitants dressed in all silver drifted past, hundreds of glistening candles floating behind her, bobbing up and down as if they knew they had a great mission to partake in.

Amataru’s Sun Festival.

“If I were a mage I would do more than play around with magic.” Shaking her head, she stared after the mage and the bobbing candles. “What a waste.”

“What do you mean? It’s for Amataru.”

“I think Amataru would be fine if we didn’t spend so much time and effort on decorating the island, and instead tried to help its inhabitants who are starving.”

Evren’s gaze followed the bobbing candles down the cobblestone road, children pausing from their game of catch to point and laugh at the mage in silver.

“That’s heresy!”

“Like the King is around to hear what I’m saying.”

“What’s heresy?” A cheerful tone interrupted their conversation.

 Evren whirled around, her hand instantly on her blade. “What the – “

TOODOLEEDO!

 The young man behind the music bowed suddenly, a wild laugh escaping him. Dust particles and light lingered in the air around him. Dark brown fingers toyed with the silver flute decorated in tiny painted red roses. Evren checked him over, not sure what to think. He was adorned in a suit of shimmering sapphire silk.