by Claire Luana
“What in the name of the Beekeeper is all this?” Thom marveled, leaning forward over the rail. He pulled a little pad of paper out of his pocket and began sketching with the nub of a charcoal pencil.
Wren leaned her elbows down on the rail and took it all in as their ship glided past rows and streets of docks crowned with strings of colorful lanterns. Dark-haired Centese in bright red and green silks chatted on the edges of docks or haggled over goods, handing their wares from boat to boat. Wren found herself grinning. She’d never been anywhere but her hometown and Maradis before, had never thought of much beyond finding someplace safe to hunker down. But this—this was marvelous. This was why people traveled.
The Black Jasmine sidled alongside an open stretch of dock and the crew sprang from the boat, clambering down onto the dock to secure the ship to her new berth. A moment of trepidation struck Wren. She hadn’t thought much beyond escaping Maradis. But now they had. And they were here. What were they to do if Pike didn’t help them? Would they...settle here? She shoved the thought aside. Pike would help them.
Callidus strode towards Rizio, Wren and Thom hurrying in his wake. “We go see Pike, correct?” Callidus asked. “You know where he’s staying?”
“I do,” Rizio said. “We’ll go now. The sooner I can get you off my ship, the better.”
Thom and Wren moved to follow the two men, but Callidus turned on them. “No. Not you two. I’ll talk to Pike myself. The last thing I need is you two bumbling through things.”
“We’re coming with you.” Wren protested. “This involves our lives too.”
“No.” Callidus’s voice was hard. “It may shock you, but I am the Guildmaster of the Confectioner’s Guild and I do not need your assistance with everything I do.” He pointed his finger at both of them in turn. “Stay.”
“We’re not a pair of terriers,” Thom said, crossing his arms before him.
Wren’s frown followed Callidus and Rizio down the gangplank and out of sight.
“What should we do while we wait?” Thom asked.
“We’re not waiting.”
“Wren—” Thom groaned, pulling his cloak tighter about him, rubbing his nose with his sleeve.
Wren held up her hands. “I won’t follow Callidus and Rizio. But Rizio mentioned a jeweler who might be able to help us identify Lucas’s ring. Callidus can’t object to us being efficient with our time.”
“I suspect Callidus could find an objection to just about anything we do. We don’t know where in the city this guy is, either.”
“There can’t be too many jewelers named Hiryo in this city. How hard can it be?”
Thom seemed to consider, but when his shoulders slumped, Wren knew she’d won.
“Do I have to come with you?” he asked. His shoulders were drooping even more than normal; his face was sallow.
Wren bit her lip. He did look like he should be back in bed, but she didn’t want to venture out alone in this totally new territory. She summoned her courage around her. She could do this alone. “No, you can stay. Rest up.”
It seemed luck was with her, for when she asked one of the sailors for directions to Hiryo’s shop, he pointed to a building just one dock down.
The door tinkled when she opened it. “Hello?” Wren called, taking in the glass cases filled with an assortment of glittering gems.
A little man hurried out from the back wearing enormous glasses, his head as bald as a baby’s. He spoke rapidly in a strange language Wren could only imagine was Centese. Curses. She hadn’t thought about the language barrier. “Alesian?” she asked with an apologetic smile, stepping up to the front counter.
“Some.” The man switched to Alesian, and Wren let out a sigh of relief.
Wren pulled the chain over her head and pointed at the little leaf that Rizio had shown her on the inside of Lucas’s ring. “Do you know who made this ring?” She spoke slowly and apparently, a touch loudly.
“Can hear fine,” the man said before clicking another layer of glass over his glasses, giving him a bug-eyed look. He examined it under what must be some sort of magnifying lens. He straightened, handing the ring back. “Master Ishiya.”
Excitement bloomed within her. A lead. “Where can I find this Ishiya?”
“Dead,” the jeweler said.
Wren’s excitement fizzled within her. “You’re sure?”
The man nodded, like she was an idiot. “Dead.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me about the ring? Like the stone. What’s inside it?”
The man frowned, examining it. “Nothing.” He proceeded to say something that sounded like he had a mouthful of rocks.
“I’m sorry?” she asked.
“Ru-til-at-ed quartz,” he said again, sounding out the syllables as if she were an imbecile. “Nothing in it. Grows like that.”
Rutilated quartz. She’d never heard of it. Well, it was something. “Anything else?”
“Only...”—he squinted, looking at the ceiling—“ten mines with this stone. Rare.”
“Oh!” Maybe the location of the mines were a clue?
“Can you make me a list of where these mines are located?”
He held out a hand to her. She looked at it, confused. She put the ring back in it. “You want to see it again?”
He scoffed, tossing the ring down on the glass counter. “Money.”
“Ah.” Wren’s cheeks heated. Of course he wanted payment for his information. She reached inside her belt pouch and passed over a few copper crowns. “Good?” she asked.
He nodded, sliding the coins off the counter and pulling out a notepad. He began scrawling out a list for her.
Wren looked out the shop’s window as motion drew her eye. A man and woman racing down the dock, the woman’s blonde locks streaming behind her. Son of a spicer! It was Olivia and Dash.
Wren launched into action, grabbing the ring and the list. “Thank you!” she cried to the jeweler as she plunged out the door into the gray morning. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do when she caught them…Dash was a blooming Aprican legionnaire. But she couldn’t just let Olivia disappear into Centu.
Wren skidded around the wooden building. A few paces away, Dash and Marina were huddled together, examining the various routes. “Wait!” Wren called, cradling her aching lungs with an arm.
The two whirled and, catching sight of Wren, launched into a run. Flame it!
Dash glanced over his shoulder, and seeing her still on the trail, knocked over a cart full of strange black fruit as he passed, sending a herd of the balls rolling into her path.
The little shopkeeper swore at her as she waded through, trying to avoid slipping or squishing any of the fruits.
Olivia and Dash had rounded another corner, and now their merry little chase was headed straight towards a floating market—a U-shape of docks filled with hundreds of narrow vessels loaded with produce, fish, flowers, and spices. Dash and Olivia showed no signs of slowing and plunged straight into the market, leaping onto the first of the boats.
Wren soldiered forward, following them onto the boat, where a startled oyster fisherman had just recovered from Olivia and Dash’s passage.
Screams and cries lit the path she had to follow, and so without thinking of the madness of what she was doing, Wren scrambled from boat to boat, pushing off people and piles of goods, scraping her shins and tangling her skirt. Dash and Olivia were through the other end, and Wren redoubled her efforts, pulling her foot out of a crate that it had just gotten stuck in. She grabbed a cleat on the far dock and pulled herself up, scrambling to her feet, looking for her quarry. But all she saw was a banner of red sailing down towards her, enveloping her in yards of canvas.
Wren flailed with her hands, finally ridding herself of the covering. It looked like the banner for the market. They’d cut it down! Dash and Olivia rounded a far corner down an alley and Wren took off after them.
At the end of the market, people were gesturing angrily, shouting at four men who no
w stalked down the docks. They wore black trousers and white shirts and had red armbands tied around bulging muscles. Thick necks. Angry faces. Swords at their sides. A vendor pointed for the men. Directly at her. “Sweet caramel,” Wren swore. Some sort of police force.
They entered the alley Olivia and Dash had disappeared down. It was a dead end. Dash and Olivia were scaling the side of one of the buildings—Dash was already up on top, reaching down his hand to help Olivia up.
Wren sprinted forward and clambered up the boxes, grabbing Olivia’s ankle and pulling with all her might.
Olivia looked down in shock as Wren pulled at her with a silent apology. Olivia’s hand slipped out of Dash’s grip and she tumbled backwards into Wren.
They hit the hard boards of the dock like a ton of bricks. The force stunned Wren, driving the breath from her lungs, and exploding stars before her eyes. A groan escaped her lips.
Through blurry vision, Wren saw Dash nimbly scale back down the building before leaping to Olivia’s side, checking her over gently. Wren felt a sudden pang of longing for Lucas as she rolled onto her side, pushing herself up to a seat gingerly.
“Don’t run anymore,” Wren said. “Please. Olivia, I want to help you.”
“You kidnapped me!” Olivia hissed.
“Well...how do you feel about Emperor Evander?”
“He could go hungry in hell for all I care.” Olivia was practically spitting. “And right now, I feel the same about you, Wren.”
Relief welled through Wren even as Olivia’s words stung her. The infusion had worn off.
But then a thought struck her. If the infusion had worn off, why had Olivia tried to run?
“Olivia, you were brainwashed,” Wren said. “I’ll explain everything back at the boat.” She pushed to unsteady feet.
“You’re not going anywhere,” a menacing voice said from the mouth of the alley. Four huge men darkened the entrance, blotting out the light.
And so they found themselves, hands bound before them, being walked through the docks of the Forgotten Bay at sword point.
“It’s just a misunderstanding,” Wren said. “Callidus and Rizio will hear about it and come get us.” She hoped. “Olivia,” Wren said softly. “I’ll explain everything when we get back to the boat, I promise.”
“I can’t imagine what you could say that would make this right,” Olivia sniffed, tilting her face away.
Wren could understand that. But then again, the existence of magic wasn’t something one normally imagined.
The men with swords funneled them into a little holding cell that was barely big enough for the three of them.
A severe woman wearing the same uniform, with the exception of a brilliant red coat, sidled up to the bars. “Destruction of property,” she said in broken Alesian. “Disturbing peace. Wait here for judgment.”
Judgment? Wren mouthed as the woman turned. “Wait!” she called, but the woman was already gone.
She turned back to find Dash leaning against the wall, and Olivia leaning against Dash.
“What are we going to do?” Olivia asked, her voice thick.
Wren leaned against the bars and closed her eyes. Why did it seem like everyone always looked to her? She didn’t know what to do. “I guess when this judge person comes, we explain that the whole situation was a big misunderstanding and beg their forgiveness.”
“Brilliant,” Olivia said, setting her jaw.
Stony silence charged the air between them as the minutes ticked by.
“Prisoners!” The woman in the red coat reappeared in the doorway. “Judgment. Stand against wall.”
“That was fast,” Dash muttered.
A tall, dark man stalked into the room. Shining black boots came to his knees over black trousers, a sword belt slung low on a hip. Above those, he wore a purple velvet coat with silver embroidery and epaulets. Dark eyes narrowed over a knowing smirk framed by a goatee.
“Come,” the woman barked, motioning at the man.
Wren let out a laugh of delight.
The man was Pike.
Chapter 21
“You!” Wren said.
“You,” Pike replied. His voice was low.
Pike was the judge? “How...? What...? Never mind. Just get us out of here.”
Pike hooked his fingers through his belt loops and strolled closer. “When I heard a pack of wild Alesians were running about destroying half the city, I should have known you’d be responsible.”
Wren wanted to protest but held her tongue. “Will you please release us?”
Pike squinted through the bars, examining them. “Perhaps I should just leave you in here and sail away to a land of fine food and beautiful women.”
“I’m hoping there’s a ‘but’ in that sentence,” Dash muttered.
“But...I might want to go back to Maradis at some point. And old Cally says you’re the only one who can find Imbris. So I guess I’ll let you out.”
Wren slumped in relief.
“Although...” Pike stroked his goatee. “I could just leave you here, gather things together, and then come back for you when I’m ready for Imbris. You won’t be able to cause trouble in the meantime and I’ll know just where to find you.”
“Pike.” Wren leaned her forehead against the bars, swallowing her pride. “Please. I promise I won’t cause any trouble.”
Pike examined them. His face looked weathered and he had a smattering of gray hairs at his temples. Either Wren hadn’t noticed before, or they were new. But that wasn’t the change that struck her. Beneath his veneer of danger, Pike had been playful, even kind. But that levity was gone. A different Pike stood before her. It seemed the ripples of Sable’s death stretched even to Centu.
He shook his head. “All right, I’ll let you out, but you three don’t even bat an eyelash unless Callidus or I say so. Agreed?”
The three in the cell muttered their agreement.
Pike turned to the fierce little woman and spoke to her in Centese. After an exchange of rapid, heated words, the woman relented and stormed to their door, unlocking it.
“She didn’t seem very inclined to release us,” Wren said as she came out of the cell.
“I told her you were mental invalids who couldn’t be legally held accountable for your actions.”
Wren pressed her lips together, hiding a smile. “It’s blooming good to see you, Pike.”
Outside the guard station, the sun had slipped over the horizon, leaving the velvety blue of twilight. Lanterns were being lit across the stretch of docks, yellow oil lanterns on tall poles, and colorful paper lanterns stretched across walkways, a thousand glowing lights like colorful jelly beans. It reminded Wren of the lantern parade for All Hallows’ Eve in Maradis, and she felt a twinge of longing. Would she ever see Maradis again?
“Rizio’s crew has transferred your cargo and possessions to my ship, the Phoenix. Callidus and Thom should be there,” Pike said. Two of his sailors were leaning against the wall and pushed off when they sighted Pike. Wren didn’t think Dash would try anything stupid, but she was glad that they had more manpower just in case.
Wren nodded. “Now are you going to tell me how the heck you came to be judge in the middle of a foreign country?”
Pike shrugged. “I’m not. Money buys justice in Centu. I’ll be adding it to Callidus’s tab.”
Wren blanched. Great. Callidus would just love that.
The Phoenix was a sleek three-masted ship painted in orange and black. The masthead was a lifelike bird in flight, its beak cawing in triumph. Wren was struck by a sort of kinship for the mythical bird. She prayed their Guild could find a way to rise from its ashes. Their city too.
“Callidus will be waiting in my quarters,” Pike said as they ducked below deck. “Aprican, what’s your name? Dash?” Pike paused before another door. “You’ll be in here.”
“Locked up I assume?” Dash asked, grimacing.
“Until we decide what to do with you,” Pike said.
Olivia
’s face blackened, and she opened her mouth to speak.
“Take it up with Cally,” Pike said. “Not my call.”
She closed her mouth and crossed her arms over her chest in a way that signaled that she would very much be taking it up with Callidus.
Callidus was in Pike’s captain’s quarters, a black cloud hanging above his head.
“Drinks? I’ll get drinks,” Pike said, quickly spinning and heading towards a sideboard built into the ship’s wooden walls as Callidus approached them.
“You!” His voice was hushed with rage. “Can you imagine my mortification as Pike and I were meeting with the Centese delegation, then they get called away to deal with a group of runaway foreigners in the city? And it’s you!”
“I didn’t want them to escape,” Wren said lamely, her cheeks heating. What a disaster of an afternoon.
“Well, at least you got that right. Why did you bring her?”
“The pastry wore off,” Wren said. “Olivia’s back to normal.”
“And yet you ran?” Callidus turned his wrath on Olivia. “What were you thinking?”
Olivia tilted her chin up in a haughty angle, looking him straight in the eye. “I am the Guildmistress of the Confectioner’ Guild. I am a free woman. You have no right to detain me. If I wanted to leave, I was free to leave.”
Wren had to admit she was impressed. Though she did notice Olivia’s hands shaking in the folds of her skirt.
“All grown up, are we? Olivia, you need to trust us. We took you from the Guildhall for your own good. It wasn’t safe there.”
“That makes no sense. Dash said he was just there to watch and keep us safe. If you want my cooperation, it’s time you told me the truth. About what the hell is going on. Your little secret enclave,” Olivia said, motioning towards them.