Before the Broken Star

by King, Emily R.

  “You won’t shoot.”

  “Won’t I?” His grip on the trigger does not waver.

  A hundred questions bombard me. When did he find out who I am? How long has he known? How much does he know? I rake through every word I shared with him, every word he shared with me.

  I’m not the only liar.

  “Bastard,” I say, dropping my weapon. Jamison picks up my sword and shoves his pistol into the waistline of his trousers. “How long have you known who I am?”

  Jamison stares me down, revealing no regret. “I began to suspect you were hiding something when you leaped at your sword in the courtroom. I soon recognized the blade as the lost relic Governor Markham has been looking for.”

  “The lieutenant has always been attentive to details,” Markham says, glib despite our stubbornness in not breaking eye contact. He offers me his elbow. “Lady Callahan, will you please accompany me on a stroll? Your brother and the lieutenant will escort us.”

  Jamison glances at Tavis in astonishment. My head is too full of questions and my mouth too full of venom to speculate why. Swallowing a barb of rancor, I ask, “Why would I go with you?”

  “Because you crave answers,” Markham replies, his eyes and voice flinty.

  He saunters ahead and waits for me to comply. I clamp my teeth down on a growl. Going with him is not a request; it is a poorly veiled order.

  Sheer fortitude, even at the expense of my pride, pushes me to follow. We turn down the beach and tour the coastline northward, Tavis and Jamison several strides behind us.

  Markham pauses to examine an ivory seashell. “The call of life is nearly deafening at the beach, don’t you think?” At my glare, he moves on. “This morning, Tavis told me his little sister was alive. In truth, I didn’t realize you were also the clerk from the clock shop until Jamison explained that’s where he met his wife. You’ve come a long way from home for vengeance, Everley.”

  “You could have made it easier for me by staying in Dorestand.”

  He dares to smile. “Haven’t you asked yourself why I’m here?”

  “To steal my father’s praise for discovering the isle.”

  “If only that were true,” Markham replies blandly. He blocks my path, his wolfish face as dangerous as it is arresting. “I’d like for you to join me on an expedition around the isle.”

  I choke on a scoff. “You must be daft.”

  “Someone with less knowledge might think so,” Markham muses, staring at the sea. “I’ve been searching a long time for the Ruined Kingdom, and I’m close to finding it. Since you sailed halfway around the world to meet me, you must come as my guest.”

  His invitation might fool a less wary prisoner, but I recognize a command when I hear one. “Why?” I ask, though I’ve little hope of receiving an honest explanation. “I’m not my brother. You’ve no chance of persuading me to your side.”

  “You inherited your father’s adventurous spirit and mind for curiosities. You’ll come because your need to understand his death is stronger than your will to defy me.” He waves Jamison and Tavis to us. “We’re going on an expedition. Tavis will come as my surveyor and the lieutenant may escort his wife.”

  Jamison reveals no emotion, his expression carved from stone.

  “What of my sword?” I inquire.

  The governor indicates that Jamison should turn over my weapon to him, then he examines the lusterless hilt and long, thin blade. The sword balances perfectly in his grasp. I itch to snatch it back from him.

  “I’ll keep this for now,” says Markham. “Will you join me on my trek, Miss Donovan?”

  I hate him, fully and unconditionally. I must obey or he will lock me in shackles and drag me along. “You’ll not distract me from why I’ve come.”

  “I would be disappointed if I could.” Markham steps nearer and lowers his voice. “Join us or I will give Quinn into marriage to the basest convict on the island.” Fury singes my tongue as Markham says louder, “Can I trust you to accompany your wife, Lieutenant? It has been too long since I’ve heard you play the violin.”

  Again, his invitation is a poorly veiled command. This expedition is just another leg of my sentencing with Jamison as my guard.

  “It would be my privilege, sir,” he replies, bowing stiffly.

  “Grand.” Markham flashes his immaculate ivory teeth. “We’ll travel by sea aboard my ship.” He starts down the beach, my brother trailing after, and calls over his shoulder. “We leave in half an hour. Prepare to set sail!”

  I stay where I am, replaying every interaction I had with Jamison after we walked out of the courtroom. Every single encounter I had with him is tainted. “Are you Markham’s spy?”

  “How could I be?” he retorts. “Killian told me this morning that you’re Brogan Donovan’s daughter, and I just now learned that Tavis is your brother. I’ve known Tavis only as Markham’s surveyor. Besides Markham serving as your father’s expedition partner, I was unaware of your association to either one of them.”

  I am too overwhelmed to decide if I believe him. “Did you tell them about my heart?”

  “No,” Jamison says swiftly, affronted.

  “Don’t pretend my concern isn’t justified. You picked me as your wife to keep a closer eye on me.”

  “That’s only part of the reason.” He watches the waves, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “Your sword made me suspicious. I thought you had bought it off a trader. For all I knew, you didn’t know the weapon was Markham’s. I wasn’t even certain the blade was his lost relic until I described the hilt to him. Everything I’ve told you about myself and why I married you was true, Everley. I gave you ample opportunity to be honest with me in return.”

  “What did you expect me to say?” I counter. “Ten years ago, Markham murdered my parents and siblings and stabbed me through the chest. Until last night, I thought Tavis was dead with the rest of my family.”

  Jamison searches me for sincerity. “You’re saying the governor killed Brogan Donovan? Why would he do that?”

  “That’s what I came here to find out.” My ticker starts to swing out of sync. It will worsen if I do not calm down, so I try to temper my tone. “Markham killed my family.”

  Doubt lingers in Jamison’s expression. “I served under Governor Markham for years, Everley. He’s respected by soldiers and sailors. The queen relies on him and he’s well liked among nobles. I cannot imagine him massacring a family or stabbing a child.”

  I haven’t had to worry whether my story would be believed. Jamison is the first person I have told, so his reaction matters. I rest a palm over my scarred chest. “Killian Markham stole my childhood, my family, my life.”

  Jamison kicks at a pebble, knocking it into the water. “It’s difficult to reconcile the man I know with the one you described.”

  Hot tears cramp my throat. I have no reasons to deceive Jamison, yet in no small part, I understand his reticence. No one wants to believe monsters are real.

  But I believe in monsters. I have seen them take and destroy, suffocate and shred, every sliver of light in the world. Monsters exist, and Markham is the worst sort. He pretends he’s charming, but I have felt the coldness of his steel in parts of me that no man has seen or ever will see. He’s the vilest, most treacherous monster there is—the kind that feeds off the light.

  Jamison steps up to me and brushes a tear from my chin. “I’m sorry. I needed a moment to understand. I believe he hurt you.”

  His answer soothes decade-deep sores. I needed him to believe me even more than I realized.

  “Were you using me to get to him?” he asks.

  “It didn’t occur to me that I could until our wedding ceremony. But yes, I hoped our marriage would provide an advantage.”

  His breaths skim my damp cheek. “I want us to trust each other.”

  Not a moment ago, he disarmed me of my sword and relinquished it to Markham. I’ve a right to my ambivalence. “Don’t come on the expedition, Jamison. Markham wants you to watc
h me and report to him. Stay here with Quinn.”

  “I’m not going on the expedition for Markham.” Jamison dries my cheek gently. “Don’t you want me there?”

  “No.”

  His arm falls to his side. “The governor issued an order. I’m going, all right? I’m going.” He stalks up the shoreline for camp.

  All at once, I am furious at him, at myself. Why must he meddle in my life?

  I stomp after him, spilling sand into my boots. I stop to shake them out and notice Dr. Huxley speaking with a patient outside the infirmary.

  “Alick?” I call.

  He takes one glimpse at me and hurries inside the tent.

  “Dr. Huxley,” I call again, quickening my pace. I follow him into the infirmary, weaving between aisles of sickbeds. He halts at a table to organize his instruments. “Alick, please listen. I’m leaving the settlement on an expedition and don’t know when I’ll return. Quinn needs a responsible caretaker. Will you watch over her?”

  He finishes putting away his tools. “You should ask your husband.”

  “He’s coming too,” I reply, and the surgeon’s posture hunches. “We’ll depart shortly.”

  “To where?” Dr. Huxley asks, ducking out of the tent.

  I dart after him. “I don’t know exactly. Somewhere on the island.”

  Alick halts and I bump into his side. His mustache twitches. “Most of the people who have explored the isle have not returned.”

  “Governor Markham organized the expedition. We’re going with him.”

  Out in the cove, the Cadeyrn of the Seas awaits departure. This expedition draws my mind back to when I first left my uncle’s home to practice swordplay. The streets of Dorestand terrified me at night. I almost turned back home, then I saw the lanterns of the wharf, and they guided me to the river. That evening I learned my first lesson in vengeance: to slay a monster, one must be willing to pursue it into the dark.

  “Dr. Huxley, please,” I say. “I respect you and your bedside manner. It would be a relief to know Quinn is in your care.”

  He removes his hat and tips his head. “All right. I’ll look after the lass.”

  I thank him and hasten to the women’s side of camp. As I pass Vevina’s tent, I hear male voices inside and peer through a crack in the flaps. She’s with sailors from the Lady Regina. Their meeting is too formal for courtship, but I’ve no time for eavesdropping, so I move on to my tent. Jamison is packing the last of our belongings while Quinn hugs the cat.

  “He said you’re leaving,” she says. “Prince and I want to go too.”

  “Prince will be happier on dry ground with you.” I crouch beside her and pet the cat. “Dr. Huxley will look after you and you’ll look after Prince. Mind your manners and stay out of the woods, all right?”

  Quinn clutches me close, then releases me to embrace Jamison. He pats her back one-handed and tells her to be good. Then, without acknowledging me, he heaves our pack over his shoulder and leaves. Quinn follows us out, cradling her cat. I wave farewell to her and promise we won’t be gone long.

  Down the beach, sailors load two longboats with baskets of food. Jamison and I pause up away from the surf, where the wind and waves are hushed. He holds out a pair of red gloves.

  “Are those . . . ?” I ask, trailing off.

  “Vevina cleaned them. She can get blood out of anything.”

  I decide against asking how he discovered that detail and slip on my mother’s gloves. I immediately feel more myself. “You didn’t need to do this.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says rigidly.

  I correct myself. “I meant to say thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he repeats, his tone gentler.

  Claret and Laverick run up carrying individual packs. “We’re going with you on the expedition,” the Cat says.

  “The governor approved our request,” Laverick explains.

  “Your request?” I ask.

  “We’re your ladies-in-waiting,” Claret replies.

  The Fox and the Cat bow, their curtseys abysmal. They are after something, though I cannot figure out what. I point at their bags. “Where did you get all that?”

  “We found a few things lying around camp,” Claret replies. Her feline features are more pronounced when she’s fibbing.

  Jamison casts his gaze to the heavens, as though praying for patience, and then goes to the longboats. Markham waits there with Tavis and a group of unfamiliar sailors. They must be the crew of the Cadeyrn of the Seas.

  I go down to the boats with the Fox and the Cat. They announce themselves as my ladies-in-waiting and are directed to the second longboat. Jamison pinches his lips into a white slash, annoyed that I’ve succumbed to their ruse. I most certainly have, even though I am entirely befuddled as to what they want.

  Markham greets me with an overbright smile. The wind sweeps his hair over his shrewd eyes, his cheeks rouged from the brisk sea air. “I hope you have everything you need, Lady Callahan.”

  The only possession of importance I own is my sword slung at his hip.

  He offers to assist me into the boat, but I ignore him and climb in on my own. Markham settles on the bench behind me, and then Jamison and Tavis push us away from the shore and jump in.

  They row us across the harbor to the Cadeyrn of the Seas. The massive ship sits a third higher in the water than the Lady Regina and is longer by at least fifty feet. Her figurehead is a merrow, a mythical creature that is half woman, half fish. The vessel is a floating armory. She has three gun decks and more cannons on the main deck. The weapons are a deterrent to pirates or foreign powers that the crew may come upon during exploration. She is not graceful or stealthy, but what she lacks in agility she makes up for in intimidation. The vessel is a striking exemplar of the queen’s power and influence across the realms.

  My father used to say a ship is a passport to adventures and a gateway to wonders. But I cannot think of the Cadeyrn of the Seas as anything other than another prison.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The ship speeds along the forested coastline, sails full and bowsprit defiant. Markham oversees the vessel from the upper deck, my brother dutifully at his side. After giving us a brief tour, Jamison parts ways to labor with the crew, and Claret and Laverick disappear belowdecks. I am unaccustomed to servants waiting on me, so they must know I won’t ask them for help.

  I travel toward the stern, en route for Jamison’s and my cabin, and spot Harlow emerging from Markham’s quarters. She wears a summery lavender frock and her hair has been curled.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I’m a guest of the governor’s.”

  My chin ticks sideways. “Were you acquainted prior to our arrival to the isle?”

  “You could say so.” She slings a crafty smile my direction. “I haven’t thanked you for disposing of Cuthbert for me.”

  “For you?”

  “Quinn was the perfect temptation. All I had to do was suggest he be alone with her while the captain rowed to port, and you three did the rest.”

  “You encouraged him?” I ask, my jaw lowering by the second. “He could have hurt Quinn!”

  “I told you where to find her, didn’t I?”

  “You said I should search belowdecks.”

  “And you listened.” Harlow strolls off, laughing.

  I glare at her as she climbs the staircase to the upper deck and goes to Markham. He places his hand on her back, his touch shockingly intimate. Harlow stares down at me, her grin cutting. I storm into my cabin and shut the door.

  Harlow works for Markham. The night we were arrested, she anticipated the raid. She must have known she would receive a transportation sentence to the penal colony, even wanted one. What does Markham need her for? What secrets does she hold? Unless he needs her to help him acquire secrets.

  I drop onto the bed and cover my eyes. Out of courtesy, Markham had the rest of our belongings moved from the Lady Regina for our comfort. He sent Jamison’s clothes
and violin, as well as our daisy clock. Its patient voice convinces me not to let Harlow upset me anymore.

  Someone knocks at the door. Thinking it’s the Fox and the Cat, I answer. I am sorely disappointed.

  “May I come in?” Tavis asks.

  “No.”

  My brother glances past me into the cabin and then pushes inside. “Is this our clock? I thought it had been destroyed.”

  “It was. This is the twin Uncle Holden kept at his shop.”

  “He always was a wonder.” Tavis touches the shiny top of the timepiece. “I should like to have my own.”

  “This belongs to Jamison. He purchased it before leaving Dorestand.”

  Tavis looks back at me. “You neglected to tell me you’d married. Do you love him?” I shake my head. He studies the clock again, his tone flat. “I was in love once.”

  “I remember.”

  “Then you remember our parents ruined it.”

  Father and Mother disapproved of the young woman, a server he’d met at a tavern. Before Father left on an expedition for Dagger Island, he ordered Tavis to stop courting her, but Tavis didn’t get the chance. Father paid the serving girl not to come around anymore, and she bought a carriage ride out of town.

  “Is that why you betrayed them? You were heartsick over a woman?”

  Tavis touches my personal figurines beside the clock. I carved them on our voyage to the isle and brought them along in my pack—miniatures of Father, Mother, Isleen, Carlin, and him. Tavis does not appear to recognize himself. “We don’t choose who we love, Evie. I was hurt, but Father was wrong. He chose to die instead of give Markham what was rightfully his.”

  “Which was?”

  “Killian will tell you. He’s requested your and Jamison’s company for dinner.” Tavis’s gaze meanders down me. “Do you own a gown?”

  “Do you?”

  He laughs, a warm resonance. “I’ve missed your wit.”

  I too once enjoyed his humor. When I was little, he would trap me in his arms and I giggled uproariously. Then he would hold down Carlin so I could tickle him. Isleen would roll her eyes at the three of us tossing about the floor. Longing for those simpler days tugs at me, but too much blood has been shed to let Tavis near me again.