by Caitlin Seal
It wasn’t fair for Corten to have torn such a hole in her life. They’d barely known each other a few months. Yet somehow those months had seemed brighter and more real than all the rest of her years put together. What had grown between them felt sharper than the fleeting crushes she’d had during her schooldays back in Talmir. She didn’t know if it was the sort of love that could last a lifetime. All she knew was that the prospect of going on without him left her aching like her chest was full of jagged thorns. Maybe things would be better in Talmir. Maybe there she could stop hoping to spot him around every corner and instead focus on finding what she needed to bring him back.
The noise outside swelled, drawing Naya out of her thoughts. The carriage slowed and she heard the driver shouting for people to step aside. It seemed a crowd had gathered at the docks to see the delegates off. The aether around them was bright with an almost festive air. Everyone hoped this meeting of the Congress of Powers would bring an end to the restrictions the Treaty of Lith Lor had imposed on Ceramor after the last war. But beneath the sweet citrus smell of that hope, Naya could sense fear and anger smoldering like hot coals. Ceramor had suffered for thirty years, and while Delence had long argued for patience and a peaceful solution, that patience was running thin.
They reached the docks after several minutes of jostling. Two ships stood proud against a late-summer sky that shimmered with heat. The first was a large, square-rigged galleon, her hull painted in bright patterns of green and blue. That would be the Lady, the flagship of the tiny Ceramoran fleet and one of the few new vessels they’d managed to build since the war. Beside her, small, sleek, and unassuming, was the Gallant. Naya’s chest tightened when she saw the familiar lines of the ship’s bow. Once she’d dreamed of the day when she’d have her own ship and the freedom to sail where she would. Now all her old dreams were tainted by the memory of her father’s betrayal.
Naya’s feet barely hit the dock before Delence strode over to greet her. “Miss Garth, Madame Laroke, I’m glad you’re here.” He motioned to one of the sailors, and the man hurried over. “Please show Madame Laroke to her cabin aboard the Lady.”
Naya frowned. “Isn’t Lucia sailing with me?”
“No need to crowd the Gallant when the Lady is designed to carry passengers in comfort, especially given Madame Laroke’s injuries.” From Delence’s brisk tone and friendly expression, Naya could almost imagine their confrontation the day before had never happened.
The aether swirled thick around them, the mingled emotions making it hard for Naya to guess if there was anything lurking behind Delence’s smile. Between working with her tutors, helping Lucia, and planning her meeting with Valn, she’d had little time to think about the Gallant. When she’d asked about preparations for their departure, Delence had dismissed her questions with the assurance that everything would be taken care of.
“If the Lady’s better equipped, then why bring the Gallant at all?” she asked.
“I had thought you would rather travel on your own ship instead of leaving it here to accumulate docking fees.”
“You’re charging me docking fees?” Naya asked.
“As a member of the delegation, you will have your expenses covered by the Crown. King Allence agreed with me that having a second ship in Talmir could prove useful, and the Gallant seemed a natural candidate. But I’m afraid we can only pay for her upkeep so long as she is in the service of the Crown.”
Naya felt foolish for not thinking of that little detail before. Creator, she’d spent years training to become a merchant. She should have started planning for this the moment Delence signed the Gallant’s deed over to her. She should have ignored his reassurances and insisted he let her help with the voyage preparations. More than once she’d decided to go down to the docks and look the Gallant over. But every time she’d found some excuse to put it off—a new book to examine, or a trip to Matius’s home to say good-bye. Looking at the ship now, she felt her stomach sink.
The journey to Lith Lor wasn’t long this time of year, a week or two at most, depending on the weather, but the price to pay the crew and equip the ship would still be substantial. And once spent, the money would be lost. She had no cargo to sell when she got to Lith Lor. Naya frowned. Accepting ownership of the Gallant had seemed the natural thing to do when Delence had offered. But looking at the slim smile on his face now, it felt more like a shackle than a gift.
Lucia glanced uncertainly between Naya and Delence. “I do appreciate the offer of comfortable lodgings, but should anything happen to Naya’s bond, wouldn’t it be better if I was near at hand?”
Delence waved the question away. “If anything goes wrong, the Gallant’s crew can throw up a signal and we’ll row you over to deal with it.” He turned to the sailor who’d been waiting by his elbow. “Madame Laroke has a chest on the back of the carriage, I believe. Bring it to the Lady, please.”
“Yes, sir.” The sailor started off.
Lucia glanced once more at Naya, then followed the man. “Please be careful with it,” she called out. “Some of my tools are quite fragile.”
“Which ship will carry Dalith Valn?” Naya asked.
“The Lady, of course.”
Of course. Even before she’d gotten caught yesterday, Naya supposed it would have been too much to hope that Delence would put his precious prisoner on her ship.
Delence’s smile hardened like bread left out for too long. “I hope you haven’t forgotten our last conversation.”
“I haven’t,” Naya said.
“Good. Then come with me, we have a schedule to keep. I’ll introduce you to the Gallant’s standing captain and her other passengers and we can be on our way.”
Naya glanced around but couldn’t spot Lucia among the crowd. She’d have to figure out how to get a message to the necromancer. Perhaps Lucia could find a way to talk to Valn during the journey.
The man Delence had hired to captain the Gallant on this voyage was lean, with a scraggly beard and dark eyes set in a perpetual squint. “Captain Elseran Cervacaro. At your service, Miss Garth,” he said with a low bow. “I’ll be taking care of the day-to-day business so you can relax along the voyage.” Naya returned the bow with a curtsy and took an immediate dislike to the man. There was something condescending in his manner, and she didn’t like the roughness of his appearance.
Delence led her down the pier to a spot by the Gallant’s gangplank where a young woman in a simple dress stood next to a young man in a suit. They both looked to be in their late teens. The young woman dipped a curtsy, but Naya barely saw it as her eyes fixed on the young man and dread made her stomach plummet. He was taller than Naya, with black hair swept back in the latest fashion and almost delicate features. Necromantic tattoos encircled his neck and wrists, binding his soul to his formerly dead body.
“This is my son, Francisco,” Delence said, clapping the young man on the shoulder. “You two will be working together at the Congress, so I thought it would be good if you had some time to get to know each other on the trip over.”
Francisco offered Naya a shallow bow. “Miss Garth.” His tone was cool, but when his eyes met Naya’s, she saw fury lurking there. No wonder. She might not have pulled the trigger on the rune pistol that killed him, but hers was the last face he would have seen before his life faded away.
A few minutes after meeting with Delence and Francisco, Naya stood at the top of the Gallant’s gangplank, her bare toes inches from the deck. She clutched the rail as a sudden wave of vertigo hit her. The scene before her was achingly familiar. Sailors rushed about, readying the ship for departure while the captain bellowed orders. Sunlight gleamed off the round windows of the deckhouse, and her nose filled with the smells of tar and salt and the pungent, fishy odor of the docks. It should have felt like coming home.
But the sailors were all strangers, and when Naya looked up, she saw the Ceramoran flag flying off the mainmast
.
My father really is dead, Naya thought with a shiver.
“Miss Garth, is everything all right?”
Naya blinked, then glanced back at the young woman standing behind her. She was about Naya’s height, with a sturdy build, cheerful features, and dark-brown hair pulled up in a practical bun. Her name was Felicia, and apparently Delence had assigned her to be Naya’s lady’s maid. She was regarding Naya with a worried look, one hand clasped tight to the gangplank’s railing.
“It’s fine,” Naya said quickly. She drew in a deep breath of aether, then boarded her ship.
Captain Cervacaro glanced at her before gesturing for one of the crew. As the sailor jogged over, Naya saw he was perhaps two or three years her senior. He was tall and lean, with a crooked nose and the coarse, sandy-brown hair and green eyes of a Silmaran native.
The young sailor led her below deck, where Naya discovered her things already stowed in the captain’s cabin. She stepped hesitantly inside. The cabin was bigger than her room above Lucia’s shop, but it felt somehow far more cramped. Light streamed in through the square-paneled windows along the stern wall, illuminating the surface of a small desk. Between her and the desk was a scuffed table where she and her father had sometimes sat together for dinner. Someone had secured a pair of sea chests against the port wall, next to the room’s single bunk, and strung a hammock on the starboard side.
It was surreal seeing the cabin without her father in it. Part of her expected him to step from the hallway behind her and sit at the long table to review whatever work he’d set for her to do that day. She’d been fourteen when her father had finally decided to let her travel with him. Her first night aboard the ship, they’d eaten dinner together at that same table. The food had been simple, but to her it had tasted better than any king’s feast. She’d basked in her father’s attention as he’d shown her charts marking their route and told stories of his past adventures.
Naya forced herself to look away, blinking as a swirl of conflicting emotions made her eyes burn. This room held some of her happiest memories of her father. But remembering those days only made her anger burn hotter. All those times he’d smiled and praised her, he’d been keeping a terrible secret. He hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her about his work as a spy. He’d sent her into danger with barely any warning. He’d killed Corten simply for defending her. She shouldn’t feel sad or guilty over what she’d done to him in the end. The kindness he’d once shown her didn’t forgive the monster he’d become.
No. He was always a monster. You just didn’t want to see it before. For years her father had been consumed by his hatred of the necromancers and the undead of Ceramor. He’d been willing to do anything or hurt anyone if it meant a chance to kill them.
“Well, this is…cozy,” Felicia said, drawing Naya away from her increasingly dark thoughts. Naya turned to see Felicia eyeing the hammock warily.
“You can have the bed,” Naya said quickly.
“Oh, I couldn’t—” Felicia began.
“I don’t sleep. Besides, I like hammocks.” And she intended to spend as little time as possible in this room. There were too many memories here that she’d rather not examine.
Felicia seemed to consider for a long moment. “You’re sure?” she asked.
“Completely.”
“All right. Is there anything you want me to unpack, Miss Garth?”
“No!” Naya said, more sharply than she’d intended. She tried to soften the words with a smile. “I can do that later. And please, just call me Naya.”
Felicia raised her eyebrows. “I’m not sure Lord Delence would think that appropriate.”
Naya fought to hold on to the smile. She’d never had a lady’s maid before and she didn’t particularly want one now. But Delence had insisted, and at the time it hadn’t seemed worth pressing the issue. Now she would just have to make the best of it. “Please? At least when we’re alone.”
“All right then, Miss Naya,” Felicia said with a tentative smile.
Close enough. “Thank you.” Then, trying to sound casual, Naya added, “We’ll be setting off soon. Why don’t you go above to watch? I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
“Of course.”
Once Felicia had left, Naya closed her eyes and reached out through the aether. She could sense Felicia walking down the hall. Unease and excitement mixed in her aether. She seemed earnest enough. Had Delence sent her to spy on Naya like he’d sent that other servant to watch the dungeons? That seemed likely, but it was also possible he thought she’d truly need a maid to keep her presentable at the Congress. Either way, Naya would have to be careful not to let Felicia discover her true intentions.
Naya checked her father’s desk and found it empty. That wasn’t surprising. Delence’s people had likely searched the room for evidence connected to Valn’s plots. If they’d found anything, they hadn’t bothered to tell her.
No matter. Her father had rarely kept important records in the desk when he wasn’t aboard the ship. Naya walked to the bunk. She crouched next to it, then carefully opened the two drawers set beneath the thin mattress. The drawers were empty, but after a moment she managed to free them from their tracks, exposing the boards beneath.
The loose board under the bunk was hard to find even if you knew where to look. Naya drew in more aether, then envisioned the runes for light. Slowly, a warm glow blossomed in the palm of her hand, illuminating the dusty space under the bunk. Her hand tingled as she held the image of the rune in her mind. Through trial and error, she’d learned that maintaining a soft light like this was far harder than creating a single bright burst as she’d done in Valn’s cell. It was one in a long list of exercises Lucia had recommended she practice in order to gain a better understanding of how her reaper’s binding worked.
After a few minutes’ careful work, Naya found the loose board and worked it free. She reached inside the hidden compartment and smiled as her fingertips brushed worn leather. She drew out her father’s logbook, followed by a heavy purse full of gold Talmiran stars and silver glints. She hefted the coin pouch thoughtfully, then set it aside. It wasn’t much, at least not in the face of the costs Delence was already covering to sail the Gallant back to Talmir. Still, having the pouch made her feel less helpless.
Anticipation thrummed through her as she opened the logbook. The handwriting was achingly familiar. She couldn’t read the cipher her father had used, though it looked similar to the one he’d taught her. Naya ran her fingers over the text, curiosity and horror warring inside her. Did she really want to know what he’d written? Did she have a choice? The logbook might contain clues about who Valn and her father had been working with. If she could find their allies, maybe they would lead her to the rest of Lucia’s journals.
Naya glanced up at the door. She would read the logbook, but not now. She didn’t want to leave Felicia waiting for long, and anyway it would be nice to be above deck to watch the sails catch that first breath of wind. She carefully put the board back over the hidden compartment and set the drawer into its tracks. The logbook and coin purse went to the bottom of the small bag of personal possessions she’d brought from Lucia’s shop.
Naya climbed to the upper deck and found Felicia just as the tow boats pulled the Gallant away from the dock. Ahead the Lady was already underway, her massive sails unfurling like clouds against the summer sky. Felicia grinned, shading her eyes with one hand, and craned her neck to stare at the sailors in the rigging. Naya found a patch of deck by the starboard rail where they would be safely out of the way. She spotted Francisco standing near the bow, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the Lady.
For a moment Naya’s eyes lingered on him. He stood with his feet planted against the gentle rock of the ship and his back perfectly straight. She tried to imagine what the last few months must have been like for him. He would have been resurrected only to learn that his father had been kid
napped by Talmiran agents. It wasn’t a fate she would wish on anyone.
But at least Francisco had gotten his father back. And while Delence was a calculating bastard, he’d accepted his son after his resurrection. He hadn’t tried to murder him in a blind rage.
Naya heard Captain Cervacaro call out and returned her attention to the glimmering blue horizon. The sails unfurled with a furious noise of flapping cloth, and the Gallant surged forward on the wind.
Once the ships left the mouth of Belavine Bay, they settled into a comfortable speed at a little over five knots. Francisco’s face had gone sickly green almost as soon as the sails unfurled, and he’d retreated below. Naya stayed above, watching the crew work and trying to banish the sense of wrongness that came from seeing so many strangers on the familiar deck.
Captain Cervacaro stood at the helm talking with his first mate, a hard-faced Ceramoran woman called Pit. Sailors moved through the rigging, adjusting the sails as Cervacaro called out orders. Reial, the crooked-nosed young Silmaran who’d shown Naya to her cabin earlier, sat a little way away coiling a long stretch of cable and inspecting it for damage.
Naya kept her hands in her pockets as she watched the work around her. She’d hoped that once they got moving, the knot of anxiety inside her chest would ease. But even the soothing roll of the ship wasn’t enough to unravel it. She ran her fingers over the runes of the simple rune disk concealed against her palm. With a slight twist, she activated the disk and felt the sharp tug as it pulled aether from its surroundings to convert into heat. She split her attention between watching the sailors and slowly forcing more aether into the disk, then drawing it back out before the runes could overload.