The Confectioner Chronicles Box Set

by Claire Luana

  But they weren’t close, not at all. They weren’t going to make it. In open water, the sleek Aprican ship would eat up the distance, pulling ahead. They’d never get Lucas back.

  Wren had never felt so helpless. There had to be something she could do to help.

  And then a thought struck her like a ton of bricks. There was something she could do. Something forbidden and secret and magic.

  Wren turned and raced across the deck.

  Ansel raised an eyebrow as she passed and turned to follow as she half-ran, half-slid down the stairs below deck.

  “I’ve seen that look before,” Ansel said. “What’re ya up to?”

  “We need a little luck,” she said, throwing open the door to the cargo hold where their crates of chocolates were sitting quietly in the corner.

  “Ya need a whole wagonload of luck,” Ansel retorted.

  “Exactly.” She rounded on him, holding out her hand. “Give me your knife.”

  “Wren—”

  “Your knife!”

  Reluctantly, he handed it over.

  She wedged it into the crack under a crate’s wooden top and levered it down, popping the top off. Arrayed underneath were neat boxes of chocolates stamped with the Confectioner’s Guild gold seal.

  Wren handed back the knife to Ansel and opened the box. She recognized the dulce de leche chocolate balls she had made. She grabbed one and shoved it in her mouth. The milk caramel sweetness barely registered as she chewed and swallowed, grabbing another one.

  Ansel looked at her like she had lost it. “Stress eating?” he asked.

  She shoved the box at him. “Eat one.”

  “I’m more of a peppermint twist kinda guy myself—”

  “Eat!” She shook the box at him, and he took one tentatively. “Come on,” she said, making for the upper deck.

  Back on deck, Wren raced first for Olivia and Dash, the closest victims. “Eat one.” She thrust the box at them. “Is this...?” Olivia asked, but she broke off as Wren shook the box again. “Eat!”

  They obliged.

  Callidus and Thom next. “Wren, what are you doing?” Callidus hissed, looking around. “Someone might notice that something’s off... about these chocolates. Not everyone on this ship knows. We’re not supposed to use them.”

  “I don’t care. And that was before anyway, under Imbris. Now he’s dead and we need luck. A miracle. I am going to make this the luckiest ship in Nova Navis.”

  Callidus heaved out a breath, but he and Thom each took one.

  Wren made her way around the ship until all her chocolates were gone. Then she turned to watch the vessel, shaking hands and clutching the empty box to her chest. Let it be enough.

  Griff had a spyglass to her eye and lowered it before raising it again. She handed it to Pike. “What do you make of that?”

  Pike let out a laugh of delight. “They’ve run aground! They hung up on something! Guess these islands are bad luck after all.” He lowered the spyglass and winked at Wren.

  An earsplitting grin broke across her face as relief flooded her, leaving her weak and shaky. It had worked. Thank the gods.

  Her elation was short-lived. As the Phoenix, the Black Jasmine, and the rest of Griff’s fleet drew closer to the Aprican vessel, cannons extended from the side like iron fingers.

  “Blooming hell. They have black powder.” Griff swore. “Tell me this thing has more powerful guns.”

  The first cannonball slashed into the sea about a hundred yards before them, sending up a column of water.

  “I’ve got something better. Centese dragon fire,” Pike said, his dark eyes gleaming. “Catapults at the ready,” he shouted, and Griff directed Pike’s sailors to hoist flags that would signal the other vessels to array in defensive positions.

  “Fire,” he shouted, and trebuchets on the bow and stern sent pots of dragon fire sailing across the water towards the Aprican vessel.

  One of the pots smashed into the side of the Aprican vessel in an explosion of green flames.

  “You could hit the hostages!” Wren turned to Pike. “We don’t know where they are.”

  “You want me to just sit here and wave at them while they fire at us? Ask them to come over nicely? Lucas is a tough lad. He’ll figure out where not to be,” Pike said. “Load another round!”

  The Aprican ship was at a marked disadvantage, as it was trapped where it sat, run aground on a hidden obstacle in the water. And its guns didn’t have the reach Pike’s catapults did. At this rate, Pike would destroy the Aprican ship, sending everyone aboard to their deaths. The dark waters around them were frigid; those aboard wouldn’t last long if they plunged into the icy depths. Thom had shown them that.

  Wren bit her lip, turning to look at where the little skiff had been pulled up alongside the stern. Someone needed to get them. To be there, in case Lucas, Trick, and Ella went into the water. She was moving before she realized she’d decided. Luck was thrumming through her veins from the two pieces of chocolate she had eaten. She could row right through the middle of the battle without a scratch—she knew that down to her toes. Lucas might not be so lucky.

  “What madness are ya up to now?” Ansel met her at the stern as she began lowering the skiff with the pulley system.

  “If they go into the water, they only have minutes. Someone needs to be there.”

  “You’re goin’ to row into the middle of a war zone?” Another catapult snapped on the deck of the Phoenix, tossing Wren against the rail. “This guy really worth that?”

  “Yes,” Wren said, her hands moving on the rope.

  “I better help ya get ‘im then,” Ansel said.

  “You’re coming?” Wren asked.

  “My grandma could row faster than ya, with those skinny arms. I’m comin.’”

  Wren felt a surge of gratitude at Ansel’s presence as she hurried over the side and down the ladder. They had fallen into their old pattern so easily. It was so familiar. She had forgotten how good it had felt to have him to protect her, to watch her back. Ansel was like a fire. He warmed you just by being close.

  She shoved the thought aside. Lucas. She needed to get to Lucas.

  The Aprican vessel was listing in the water now, flames licking up the rigging with greedy fingers. Callidus caught sight of their little rowboat as they passed into the space between the two vessels. Wren could hear his shouts on the wind, but the words eluded her. No doubt he was telling her she was crazy, that she was going to get herself killed. He might be right.

  Luckily, the sailors on the Aprican vessel were too busy to notice their approach. Ansel pulled their little rowboat up alongside the stern as the Aprican ship sent another cannon shot at Pike and Griff’s fleet. The cannonball just missed one of the other brigantine vessels, which had gotten dangerously close.

  Complete chaos greeted Wren and Ansel as they pulled themselves up onto the deck. Flames and black smoke were billowing from half a dozen spots on the deck, and men shouted orders while others ran with buckets of water, trying uselessly to put out the deadly flames. “Where do you think they’re being kept?” She pulled her cloak up to her mouth, breathing through it, coughing.

  “No idea,” Ansel replied, pulling his sword from his scabbard.

  So Wren went on instinct, trusting the luck of the chocolate to guide her way. They scrambled over the deck, past surprised sailors who were too busy to do anything but mark their passing with wide eyes and shouts. They plunged into the low hallway and ran straight for the captain’s quarters at the stern of the vessel. The hallway was thick with smoke.

  The door to the chamber was locked. “They’re in here.” Wren pointed, coughing. “It’s locked.”

  Another blow hit the vessel, tossing Wren and Ansel hard against the wall.

  “Get back,” Ansel said, and with a powerful kick, he splintered the wood of the door jamb, flinging the door back on its hinges.

  Wren rushed into the room after Ansel.

  “Who in the Sower’s name are you?
” It was Ella. Sweet caramel, it was Ella. Wild-eyed, messy-haired, but haughty as ever.

  “Your rescuer, m’lady.” Ansel gave a little bow.

  “Wren?” That voice...

  Wren looked around wildly, and when her eyes focused on him, her knees went weak beneath her.

  Solid. Real. Alive. Lucas.

  She ran and threw herself into his arms with force that felt stronger than the cannonball shots.

  Lucas.

  “How—?”

  “No time,” she cried, plastering his cheeks with kisses. “Gotta go.”

  “I sure am glad to see you,” Trick said, and Wren was grinning, and then they were running together into the hallway, and Wren couldn’t keep the smile off her face because she had them. They were going to make it.

  A deafening crack rang out, as if the world were ending around them. The hallway tilted sideways, throwing them against the wall, which was quickly becoming the floor.

  She didn’t know who shouted the words. Maybe it was her.

  “We’re going down!”

  Chapter 31

  Ansel broke Wren’s fall.

  Wren tumbled into him as the ship threw itself sideways, landing an elbow in his stomach, a knee in another soft part.

  He groaned beneath her, cursing as she pushed herself off him. Ella and Trick were in front, half-stumbling, half-crawling towards the open hatch through which they’d come in. Lucas offered a hand, and Wren took it, grasping it like a lifeline while offering her other back to Ansel. “Come on!”

  Ansel heaved himself up and together they barreled out onto the tilting deck amongst roaring flames and screams of the crew.

  “Nice rescue,” Ella said, but Wren ignored her, so fixed was she on the rowboat, bucking in the roiling water behind the sinking ship. No one had taken it yet. “Quick,” she said, and they ran across the slanting deck towards the little skiff. Men were leaping off the sinking vessel into the water, but Wren ignored the splashes and cries, trying to drown them out. The rowboat was all that mattered.

  The Aprican ship was low in the water now, and there were only a few steps down the ladder needed to get to the boat. Ella went first, then Trick, then Wren, Lucas not wanting to release her hand to let her down the side. But she was over and he followed in a blink. When it was Ansel’s turn, he didn’t even need the ladder, he just stepped over the rail of the ship into the rowboat. The ship was sinking rapidly now, and it began to pull at the line of the rowboat, threatening to drag it down.

  “Untie us!” Lucas cried.

  “I’m tryin.’” Ansel grunted, working at the knot on the cleat. The tension was too much, and the knot wouldn’t yield. “Get back,” he said, and he stood, unsheathing his sword and hacking once, severing the rope as everyone ducked out of his way.

  Wren let out a breath of relief as Lucas began rowing quickly away from the wreckage.

  She cast her gaze on Lucas, drinking in the sight of him. His salt-and-pepper hair was shaggy, and he had a short, dark beard shadowing his face. He wore olive green canvas trousers, a flannel shirt, and a pair of work boots. He looked even leaner than he had been, making his face seem harder, more angular somehow. But despite the changes, her heart filled to bursting at the sight of him. His gray eyes swam with a warmth and earnestness and concern that was all Lucas. And even as he rowed, his gaze was glued to her, a grin wide across his face. “Lucky you showed up when you did,” he finally said.

  Wren let out a breathless laugh, and tears sprang to her eyes. She nodded.

  “Damn, it’s good to see you, Wren,” Trick said, his smile a mirror image of Lucas’s. “Thought we were goners back there.”

  Wren looked at Ella, but there were no similar professions of gratitude from her. Ella huffed and looked out across the islands. “Well, at least with you here now, Lucas might shave off that ridiculous thing on his face.”

  A smile caught at the corner of Wren’s mouth. That was probably the nicest thing Ella had ever said to her.

  “I don’t mind it,” Wren said. “I think it looks nice.”

  “Of course you do,” Ella said. Even in her coral trousers and tied denim shirt, she managed to look like a princess, her blonde curls exploding like a halo around her. “I’ve tried to explain that only a certain kind of man can pull off a beard. Like...well, like your new friend here. Wren, are you going to introduce us?”

  Ansel had been watching the exchange with interest, most of his interest focused on Ella. “Name’s Ansel,” he said. “Folks call me ‘the Red Badger.’ Head of the fiercest band of fightin’ men in all of Nova Navis.”

  Ella sniffed, though she was clearly examining him with interest. “A mercenary. Why am I not surprised Wren would be consorting with such riffraff?”

  “Don’t mind Ella,” Trick said cheerfully. “She could find fault with the Sower himself. Wren, is anyone else from your Guild with you?” Trick regarded her with such a look of cautious hope that Wren knew in that moment that Thom had found his match.

  “Callidus, Thom, and Olivia.” Wren nodded.

  “These are all ours, I presume?” Lucas nodded behind him to the little fleet of ships.

  “Head towards the Phoenix,” Wren said, pointing at Pike’s flagship. “They’re filled with pirates and mercenaries. Ella, you’ll be right at home.

  Those on board the Phoenix greeted the Imbris siblings with hugs, handshakes, and claps on the back. But best was seeing Thom and Trick catch sight of each other and careen together in a bone-rattling embrace.

  Lucas looked at Wren and smiled, pulling her against him, murmuring into her hair. “I’m not the only one glad to be rescued by the Confectioner’s Guild.”

  “Well, we are rather gallant,” Wren managed, wrapping her arms around Lucas, running her hands up the straight arrow of his spine, the hard plane of his back. He was warm and real and here. When she thought how close she’d come to losing him...it felt a miracle. Finally, luck had been with her. It had been drilled into her head that the use of infused chocolates was forbidden, but now that King Imbris was dead, she’d have to remember she had a potent weapon at her disposal.

  “Let’s talk below,” Callidus said, shaking hands with Lucas. “If Wren can manage to untwine herself from you.”

  “I think we can talk while twined, if it’s all the same to you,” Lucas said, pulling Wren closer to him. “We’ve got lost time to make up for.”

  Callidus rolled his eyes but turned, motioning them below decks. “Thom,” he barked, ignoring the fact that Trick and Thom were standing against the rail, their foreheads pressed together, Trick’s hand wrapped securely around Thom’s shoulder.

  Wren couldn’t hear the words Trick spoke, but from the intimacy of their postures, it seemed clear that Trick and Thom would be making up for lost time as well. It was funny how nearly losing someone made all the excuses melt away.

  They crowded into Pike’s captain’s quarters, filling the space with bodies. Lucas, Trick and Ella, Wren and Callidus, Pike, Ansel, and Griff. Thom and Olivia and Dash. Allies new and old alike.

  Lucas refused to relinquish Wren’s hand, which was perfectly fine with her. The feeling of having him with her again was surreal. She wanted to banish all these people for a time, to make them vanish one by one until it was just her and Lucas. She would press her mouth—her body—against his, letting his touch drain the stress of the last few weeks away… But that would have to wait.

  “We are very, very glad to have you with us,” Callidus said. “When we saw the Aprican vessel...well, we feared.”

  “That was some bit of heroics,” Pike said, nodding to Wren and Ansel. “I’m worried you’re going as crazy as a loon, Wren.”

  “It was a one-time thing,” Wren said with a shaky laugh. “I’ll behave myself from now on.”

  “Impossible,” Lucas whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her, casting goosebumps across her skin.

  “Things are different now,” she whispered back.

  “Ahem.
” Callidus interrupted, shooting her a dark glance.

  She leaned away from Lucas with a sigh.

  “How much do you all know about what is going on back in Maradis?” Callidus asked.

  “Very little,” Lucas said. “We had allies in the city who were feeding us information and supplies.”

  “We hadn’t heard anything in a week,” Trick said, cutting in. “We were intending to make our way back to Maradis, but we didn’t get the chance. A force of Apricans busted through the back door.”

  “Trick promised his friend was trustworthy,” Ella said, casting a black glance at Trick, “but he was the only one who knew our location. He must have betrayed us.”

  “Perhaps not by choice.” Callidus explained what had gone on back in the city, with the infused bread brainwashing the citizens of Maradis into worshipping Emperor Evander and the Apricans.

  Wren watched Griff and Ansel with veiled interest as Callidus told the tale, as those two were the only ones, Wren guessed, who didn’t know of the existence of magical food. They both seemed to take it all in stride. Perhaps her illustration with the chocolates had helped make them believers.

  “Flaming hell,” Lucas swore when Callidus finished. “Our contact must have been turned and given up our location.”

  “So who can we trust?” Ella asked.

  “You’re lookin’ at ’em,” Pike said.

  “What about the Falconer?” Trick asked Lucas. “Do you think the Apricans got to him, too?”

  “You know who the Falconer is?” Wren asked. They still didn’t know the identity of the leader of the rebel group back in Maradis who had been disrupting things before they’d left.

  “We don’t know who he is, but we had been in brief contact with him through our friend. He wanted to help us get back into the city. Retake the palace. He’d been building support for us.”

  “And blowing things up,” Callidus said.

  “It would help to have a man inside the city,” Ansel said. “Can we getta message to ‘im?”

  “There’s no way of knowing if he’s been affected by this...bread stuff,” Lucas said. “Is there?”