by Claire Luana
“It’s been mostly bread, but you have to assume nothing is safe, save what you’ve prepared yourself,” Wren said.
“Take us with you,” Callidus said.
Shock coursed through her. He was thinking of fleeing? Abandoning the city? The Guild? A day ago, she might have welcomed a chance to run, to make a new start. A day ago she’d been weary. But that was before the emperor had shown his true colors. Now—she was angry. What he’d done was unconscionable. A horror on a level Wren couldn’t have even conceived of. The emperor didn’t intend to let Maradis rule itself. Their resources and their sovereignty weren’t enough. He would have their very minds—their free will. They couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.
“Callidus,” Wren began, but he held up a hand. She fell silent, unease roiling within her.
“You don’t even know where we’re going,” Rizio said slowly.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s too dangerous for us here right now. We need to regroup in safety. To make plans. We can pay you.”
Regroup. That was promising. It meant Callidus didn’t mean to flee forever.
The dark-haired man crossed his arms before them, considering. The silver rings in his ears glimmered in the low light of the office. “One hundred gold crowns for each of you.”
Wren’s eyes bugged out. One hundred! That was a king’s ransom!
Callidus paled. “We’re a wealthy Guild, but not that wealthy. Twenty.”
“Eighty.”
“One hundred for the lot of us,” Callidus said.
Rizio rolled his eyes. “Fine. But you share a cabin. And no complaining.”
“Done.” Callidus thrust his hand out, and Rizio shook it.
“Where are we going?” Wren asked.
Rizio shook his head. “Better you don’t know. In case you get caught. I’ll just say...bring a cloak. A waterproof one.”
Great, that narrowed it down to about everywhere between here and Aprica.
“Where shall we meet you?” Callidus asked.
“Our boat is the Black Jasmine, docked at the end of Pier 91 in the Port Quarter. Be there at midnight tomorrow or we leave without you.”
Chapter 12
“Terrible idea,” Hale muttered to himself as he hurried through the slick streets, heading for the Confectioner’s Guildhall. Yet his feet were bearing him ever closer.
Hale couldn’t shake his conversation with Liam and Beckett. And Daemastra most of all. Something was going on and it involved infused food. He would stake his life on it. He knew that he had made his choice—he was an Aprican stooge now. He knew that the Guilds—the city—blamed him for his current predicament. But old habits died hard. And so he found himself turning onto the wide avenue of Guilder’s Row, the white marble Guildhall before him. Just a quick word to tell them they should be on their guard. That was all.
Hale started up the stairs to the Guildhall and spun quickly, hurrying back down when he spotted who was pacing before the doorway. Hale crossed the street and ducked into the shadow of the Tradehall before turning, blowing out a breath. He squinted to make him out. A legionnaire in sky blue, his brown hair cut short on the sides, a trim beard covering his jaw. The man looked furious, pacing back and forth like a rabid dog before the door. There was no way Hale could enter the Guildhall without that man noticing him. And Hale did not want an Aprican legionnaire to notice him.
Twin surges of relief and disappointment welled in him. “Well, that’s that,” he murmured under his breath. He had come, he had tried to warn them. But it wasn’t meant to be. Wren and Callidus were smart. They had been through worse scrapes. Whatever Daemastra was up to—the Guild would be able to stay one step ahead of it. Hale hoped.
With a resigned nod, Hale shoved off the wall, heading back towards the sidewalk—where he was barreled into by a man hurrying by, his jacket pulled tightly around his throat, his hat pulled low.
“Watch where you’re going,” Hale shouted as he recoiled off the man, stumbling to catch his footing. The stranger hurried on without a word, not even looking back.
“Son of a spicer,” Hale swore, shaking his head. At that moment, he noticed the man had dropped something. A letter. Hale picked it up and looked up for the man so he could call out for him. But he’d vanished.
Hale frowned and brushed off the creamy vellum on his pant leg. The letter was sealed with green wax formed in the shape of a falcon. The Imbris crest. He turned the letter over and froze. Hale Firena, it read.
Hale’s senses surged to full alert, his awareness buzzing. He looked around, but no one was paying him any attention. His pulse raced in his veins as he broke open the seal.
Mr. Firena-
We are pleased to learn that despite your past misdeeds, you continue to have the best interests of Maradis at heart. As an Aprican soldier, you have unique access to intelligence that could be of use to the resistance. If you should ever come across information that you would like to share in order to assist in our efforts, we would be most obliged to receive it. If you do, place the information in an envelope underneath the seat of the Hippogriff carriage on the carousel at Gemma Park. Do not attempt to contact us. We will contact you.
Sincerely,
The Falconer
P.S. And, Mr. Firena, whatever you do, don’t eat the bread.
Wren was stunned. They were leaving Maradis. “Is there no other way?” she asked Callidus as they emerged from the Unicorn Mercantile into the blustery slate day.
“I don’t fancy becoming a mindless emperor-worshipper, do you?”
“Of course not.” Wren sighed. “It just feels...like giving up.” Which, if she were being honest with herself, she had been wanting to do for weeks now.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Callidus asked. His tone was harsh. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing these past weeks? Withdrawing from the world, feeling sorry for yourself? It may be news to you, Wren, but you’re not the only one who cared about Aiyani Sable. Or this Guild. Or this city.”
Wren winced. The truth of Callidus’s words cut as sharp as knives. She had been wrapped up in her own grief, callous to the fact that those around her were grieving too. “I’m sorry, Callidus,” she said softly. “I’m just...” She trailed off. How to make him understand? She and Thom hadn’t told Callidus that they had accompanied Hale to see the Aprican general the night before the city had fallen. She was afraid to.
“Just what, Wren?” Callidus asked, looking at her sideways over the high collar of his coat. A memory flickered, tugging at her. It was so much like the first time she’d ever seen him, in Master Oldrick’s shop. She’d been afraid then, and she was afraid now. She was afraid to stay and afraid to go. Her fears were like glistening thorns surrounding her, a maze of brambles that she couldn’t escape. As she shied away from one, another would pierce her. They crowded around her, their limbs growing tighter by the day. Soon she wouldn’t be able to move at all. She wouldn’t be able to breathe. She had to break free.
“I’m afraid that if I try to help, I’m only going to make it worse,” she stammered out.
Callidus wrinkled his thick black brows. “It can’t get much worse than this, Wren.”
“Last time...” She faltered, but she shook herself, gathering her courage around her. “Last time I tried to make it better and it made it worse. All of this is my fault, Callidus. The city wouldn’t have fallen if it weren’t for me.”
Callidus stopped in his tracks. “What are you talking about?”
So Wren told him, her words tripping over each other. How she and Thom and Hale had gone to make a deal with the Apricans to secure his freedom. How Hale had betrayed them and taken the key Lucas had given her to the secret passageway. She needed to confess her sins. She needed him to know. “So you see,” she finished, “it wasn’t just Hale who betrayed Maradis. It was me.”
Callidus heaved a massive sigh and rubbed his temples with two long fingers.
Wren’s stomach flipped nervously. “Please, Cal
lidus, say something.”
“What you did was stupid and reckless,” Callidus said. He softened, looking up with those ice-blue eyes. “But you did it to save me. So I suppose I cannot fault you too terribly.”
Relief flowed through Wren like a tidal wave. She sprung at Callidus, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her face into the scratchy wool of his coat. “Thank you. Thank you for forgiving me.”
Callidus wrapped his arms around her, rocking her gently. “There’s nothing to forgive. The Apricans were going to break through the wall in another few days. If you hadn’t done what you’d done, I’d be dead. Along with Chandler, McArt, and Bruxius.”
She felt about a thousand times lighter. How had she once thought Callidus was hard and cruel?
Callidus patted her gently. “Now let’s get out of this rain.”
They hurried the rest of the way to the Guildhall, only to be met by a golden thundercloud at the door. From the damp shoulders of his sky-blue uniform, it was clear that Dash had been waiting there for some time.
“You two!” he shouted at them, bounding down the steps to face them. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”
“We went for a cup of coffee,” Callidus said, looking down his nose at Dash. “I wasn’t aware it was illegal under the emperor’s rule.”
“For a cup of coffee?” Dash crossed his arms. “Sneaking out the back way? You must think I was born yesterday.”
“To the contrary, I give no thought to when you were born. Now if you would excuse us, we’d like to get inside out of the rain.”
Dash grabbed Callidus’s arm as he tried to shove past the lieutenant. “Don’t ever. Try to duck my watch again. There will be consequences.”
“For him maybe,” Wren muttered as she followed Callidus up the steps.
“I heard that,” Dash said.
Wren looked over her shoulder in surprise.
He was right on her heel. “Oh yes. From now on we’re as inseparable as salt and pepper. Enjoy.”
Wren parted ways with Dash at her room, slamming the door in his face.
“Wren.”
She jumped against the door, her hand flying to her heart. “Thom!” She let out a shaky laugh. “You scared the sugar out of me.” She looked back over her shoulder and held up her finger to her lips. “Dash is out there,” she whispered.
Thom was sitting at the table by her window, one long leg crossed over the other.
Wren rang the bell for a servant before taking the seat across from him. Some coffee would warm her up.
Thom grabbed a chocolate from the little bowl on the table. “Think these are safe?”
Wren shrugged. “I can’t imagine the emperor’s been everywhere.”
A knock sounded on the door. Wren met the servant, poking her head into the hallway. “Just some coffee for me and Master Thom,” she whispered, ignoring Dash, who was leaning against the wall, one booted foot crossed over the other, examining his fingernails.
The maid curtseyed and took off down the hall.
“Didn’t you and Callidus just go out for ‘coffee’ an hour ago?” Dash crooked his fingers around the word “coffee.”
“We Alesians drink a great amount of coffee. Perhaps you should do some research before you invade a country next time.” Wren slammed the door again.
“How’d it go with your family?” Wren asked, dropping back into the chair.
Thom shook his head. “I was too late.”
Wren deflated. “I’m so sorry.”
Thom shrugged. “It might be safer for them. They’ll toe the line, stay out of trouble. At least until we can find a solution. Did you talk to Pike?”
Wren took one of the chocolates, unwrapping it. They were tasty, with a gooey center of just the right consistency and sweet milk chocolate on the outside. There was nothing worse than a caramel that dripped out of the center of its chocolate home. She could never understand confectioners who preferred that type of confection. But she was stalling. “We found Rizio. Pike’s left the city. The whole Spicer’s Guild has.”
“Blooming hell,” Thom said. “It’s that bad, huh?”
Wren nodded before meeting his eyes. “We’re going too.”
“What?” Thom exploded.
Wren cringed. “Shh!”
Sorry, he mouthed. “You’re leaving?”
“We’re leaving. Or at least, I hope you’re coming too. It’s not forever. Just long enough for us to regroup and figure out what to do about this bread.”
Thom was nodding. “I’ll come. But only if we bring the others.”
“What others?” Wren asked.
Thom rolled his eyes. “Lennon. Marina. Olivia. We can’t just leave them here under the emperor’s mind control.”
“They’re too dangerous to bring along. They could give us up to the emperor’s men. They’re not our allies right now.”
“If they didn’t know what we were doing until it was too late, then they wouldn’t have a reason to fight us. We need to give the infused bread a chance to wear off.”
“It would provide good information,” Wren admitted. “To know how long it takes to wear off. But it’s going to be complicated enough to get us out of the Guildhall with Lieutenant Babysitter watching our every move. To try to get three more...”
“When I was kidnapped by King Imbris, you didn’t leave me to rot. You planned to get me out,” Thom pointed out. “They’re our allies.”
“Olivia and Lennon are,” Wren muttered. She sighed. “I’m not sure Callidus will go for it. But we can try.”
“Good.” Thom brightened.
“We can’t go to Callidus without a plan, though.” She clapped her hands. “So. What’s your master plan to get us all out of here?”
Thom unwrapped another chocolate, grinning. “I was hoping you’d come up with one.”
Wren groaned. “Take them out for a dinner in the Port Quarter? On one of Pike’s ships? Then it starts going and before they’re any the wiser, we’re gone?” She let out a halfhearted laugh. It was a terrible plan. Hardly even worthy of the name.
“No one eats dinner in the Port Quarter. Plus, how would we lose Dash? And don’t you think they’d wonder about our luggage?”
“Luggage.” Wren scrunched her lip. “I forgot about that.”
Another knock sounded on the door and Thom went to fetch their coffee. “We didn’t ask for any food,” he said, which warranted a murmured response from the maid. “Fine,” he said, closing the door with one foot, a silver tray in his hands.
“They sent up pastries.” He smiled sweetly. “Courtesy of the emperor,” he said in a high-pitched voice. “Should I throw them in the fire?”
But an idea was blossoming in Wren’s mind. “Keep them,” she said as Thom sat down.
“Cream? Sugar?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“Black. Thom. I think...I think I have an idea.”
“Thank the Beekeeper.” Thom handed her an earthen mug, its contents warm and black. “Lay it on me.”
Wren dumped out the chocolates onto the table and positioned the two croissants across from each other. “This croissant is the ship. This one’s the Guild. The chocolates are us. And...” She snagged a sugar cube from the bowl and placed it with the chocolates. “This is Dash.”
“Your plan looks delicious thus far.”
She shot him a look. She added the little silver pitcher of cream to the pile of chocolates and sugar cube. “This is a wagon full of Guild goods. We tell Dash that we have been ordered by the emperor to transport these special products to a ship that will take them back to Aprica.”
“What will be in the wagon?”
“We’ll need to make some chocolate. But underneath, we can put our luggage.”
“Nice,” Thom said. “Won’t we need some sort of paperwork? Official order or some such?”
Wren waved her hand. “We can forge it.”
“Oh, of course. Silly me. Continue.”
“We get Lenn
on and Marina and Olivia to assist us with the transport.”
“Why would they come too?”
“I don’t know, Thom. I haven’t worked out every detail. We’ll tell them...the emperor asked for them to supervise. They’re so in love with him, they’ll swoon all over themselves for the chance to serve.”
“Things are getting shaky, but go on.”
“We all take the wagon down to the docks, where it will be loaded onto the ship bound for ‘Aprica.’” She moved her little convoy of chocolate and coffee accoutrements to the other croissant. “While Lennon, Marina, and Olivia are carrying the stuff into the ship, one of us distracts Dash and knocks him out. We tie him up inside the wagon.” Wren dropped the sugar cube into the cream.
“Not it,” Thom said.
“Now Dash is out of the way, our guild members are on the ship, together with our luggage. All we have to do is keep them on the ship and let Pike’s men cast off.”
Thom rubbed his jaw, pondering. “It’s not terrible.”
Wren blew out a breath. “Will Callidus go for it?”
Thom grinned. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Chapter 13
A pillow smacked Hale in the face.
“You’re rolling about like a virgin getting his first lay.” The soldier in the bunk above him peered down, his stringy, black hair hanging like a curtain. “Quit it.”
“Sorry,” Hale mumbled. He didn’t remember the man’s name.
The face disappeared and the bunk above him creaked as the soldier settled back down.
Hale sat up. He set his feet on the stone floor and cradled his head in his hands. There was no way he was going to sleep tonight. The Falconer’s message was haunting him, playing over and over in his mind. Why was Daemastra keeping a Gifted Baker’s Guild member hostage? What was he doing to the bread?
Hale hopped into his trousers, grabbing his boots and a flannel shirt. He padded through the dark barracks in his bare feet, pausing in the dimly-lit hallway outside to finish dressing.