by Vivian Arend
Rufius let out another low whistle. “This is getting far more complicated than I first thought.”
And that wasn’t half of it. If Sexta was involved, too, could he turn her over?
He didn’t have time to wrestle over that dilemma as he came to the spot where he’d left his chariot and found it gone. A new string of curses rushed out, followed by a bitter taste in his mouth. Of course, she would steal his chariot.
Once again, Sexta had gotten the upper hand.
But not for long.
CHAPTER FOUR
A thick fog covered Shalfak, obscuring the buildings below as The Temptress hovered over the port. Sexta peered over the side of the ship and shivered. The cold, damp air was unusual for a town situated at the edge of a desert, despite its proximity to the sandstone cliffs and river a few miles away. Combined with the lack of the normal lights to guide them safely into the port, the creepiness of the whole place had her second-guessing her decision to come here.
And judging by the tense expression on Djer’s face, she wasn’t the only one thinking about turning back. “Perhaps we should wait for the sun to burn it off?” he suggested.
She checked the power gauges and shook her head. The Temptress was a unique airship, the only one in the empire that didn’t rely solely on Deizian magic to fly. As part of her bargain with Numicius, he’d outfitted it with a device that captured the energy of the sun and used it to power the ship when she wasn’t at the helm. But after flying straight for the last two nights, she doubted they’d be able to stay in the air much longer without relying on her to call on more magic than her mixed blood could spare. “That’ll be several hours yet.”
He gave her a solemn nod before going down to the main deck and ordering the men to use buoys to sound for the port as they descended. Sexta followed their sharp calls, guiding the ship inch by inch into one of the abandoned docks. The chill in the air seeped into her soul, and not even the distant flicker of the barrier could soothe her. Something was very wrong here.
As the men secured the moorings, she pulled her heavy wool cloak around her shoulders and peered into the fog, unable to see past the end of the docks. Her hand traveled to the rucksack on her hip that carried three bombs. If they found something they shouldn’t, she was all for blowing this place to dust and letting the shifting green sands reclaim it.
Djer handed her a lantern. “The men want to leave as soon as possible. Everything about this place screams ‘cursed.’”
“Are they worried your Alpirion gods have unleashed their wrath on Shalfak?” Almost all of her crew were freed Alpirions, and despite the laws forbidding them from knowing about their culture, many of the men clung to the same beliefs their ancestors had.
Djer gave another tense nod, his dark eyes staring into the fog and undoubtedly seeing the ancient tales his great-grandmother had told him.
“Then let’s take a look around town and leave as soon as possible.” Sexta lit the lantern with a trickle of her magic, the effort fatiguing her more than it usually did. As soon as she got the answers she sought, she was treating herself to a long nap, preferably in a warm, sunny seaside town like Tivola.
Djer fell into step beside her as they disembarked from the ship, his hand never leaving his sword. Despite the unseasonably cold temperature, he remained shirtless, his bare bronzed chest exposed like the Alpirion warriors of old. His gaze darted from side to side, and his biceps tensed, ready to spring at any attacker. “Where are we going, my lady?”
“To the warehouse where we delivered those crates.” Even though she spoke softly, her words echoed through the fog like ghostly taunts.
“Why?”
“To see if they’re still there.” If they were, she’d feel less guilty about the plight of Shalfak. But they were missing or emptied, she’d gladly surrender her log book to the emperor as proof linking Numicius to the desolation of the town.
“I don’t like this,” Djer mumbled. “The air smells of death, as though there are a thousand corpses rotting in the streets.”
But as far she could tell, they were the only creatures in town. Not even the call of a bird or the scurry of a rat greeted them. And yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched. It was almost enough to make her believe in those ancient Alpirion curses. “We just need to check the warehouse, and then we’ll be on our way.”
When they reached the warehouse, though, the door hung on broken hinges as though someone had already kicked it in. Sexta hovered her hand over the shattered wood before stepping inside.
The room was completely empty.
She cursed. “We’re in bigger trouble than I thought.”
“Why?” Djer took her lantern and ventured deeper inside to chase away the shadows. “Was there something in those crates that shouldn’t have been there?”
“No idea. I was told not to peek, and I wasn’t going to disobey orders.” She tried to remember where everything was a week ago when she’d last been here. “If I remember correctly, the clerk was very specific about where we set those crates.”
“‘Specific’ is putting it politely. More like on the verge of running my men through if they put them an inch out of place.”
“Exactly. Receiving clerks don’t normally act that way.” She traced the outline of where the previous crates had been, doing her best to recall the details. “There were bags of grain in that corner, oil amphorae there, and our crates went here.”
Djer nodded, his brows drawn together. “Yes, my lady.”
She stopped just to the left of the center of the warehouse. “Then this was the area he was determined to keep clear, right?”
Djer nodded again, drawing closer to hand her the lantern again. “It was about twenty cubits long and fifteen wide.”
“What was he saving room for?” Her mind searched for possible answers. It was too small for an airship but large enough for a chariot, perhaps one that would be favored by a lesser noble or a wealthy Elymanian. Ore was a commodity mined in the cliffs outside of town, but she doubted it would be kept here. Mentally, she continued to file through the common supplies normally kept in the warehouses of Shalfak as she paced the area designated until a hollow sound echoed under her foot from beneath one of the floorboards.
She froze. “Did you bring a rope, Djer?”
“Was I supposed to?”
“No, but it might come in handy.” She stomped her foot and listened to the echoes below. When she moved a few cubits to the side and repeated the action, only the sound of the solid earth came back. “I think I know why they wanted this area clear.”
Djer’s eyes glittered with understanding. “Let’s go back to the ship for supplies, then.”
They turned back to the broken door, only to find a shadow standing in their way.
Djer drew his sword, and Sexta reached inside her rucksack for one of the bombs. Her fingers trembled, and she fought to control her magic so the bombs wouldn’t go off before she needed them.
“Who’s there?” her guard demanded.
“You two are in big trouble,” a familiar voice said as Marcus emerged from the shadows. “And I’m here to arrest you.”
The gods must have smiled on him for once. Marcus and his crew managed to come into Shalfak not long after Sexta, and he went straight to the warehouse listed in the port’s log with twenty men. He’d had enough of her games, and this time, he wouldn’t let her escape.
Sexta coldly stared at him from behind Djer. “On what grounds?” she asked, her voice full of challenge.
“Should I start with the explosion you caused in Emona? Or the fact you defied my lockdown orders?” He reached for his gladius as he continued to close in on them, his men fanning out behind him to encircle the room. “Or maybe that you’ve returned here to cover up your part in the destruction of Shalfak?”
“We’re not here to cover up anything.” Yet her gaze scanned the room, and her lips pressed together in a flat line. He could almost picture her counting
his men and trying to form an escape plan.
“Then what are you doing here?”
“The same thing as you.” She came out from behind Djer. “I’m here to find answers.”
“And yet you’re doing everything you can to keep from answering my questions.” He came as close as he dared, staying out of the reach of Djer’s curved blade. “Who sent you here, and what were you carrying?”
Her chin quivered in the lantern light. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
“Then you leave me no choice, Sexta.” His heart sank as he motioned his men to close in around them. It was time to up the stakes if he wanted to wring answers from her. “You and your crew are under arrest for treason.”
Her eyes widened. “Treason?”
He kept his mouth clamped shut for fear she’d see through his ruse. He doubted Titus would prosecute her on that charge unless he uncovered something that directly linked her to the attack on Shalfak. He merely wanted to scare her into loosening that stubborn tongue of hers. As much as she loathed her mother’s crimes, he doubted she would’ve ever willingly participated in such a heinous plot. She was likely just a pawn in this, but she still held the key to unlocking the mystery.
Her current actions, however, made him question how innocent she was. If he did uncover evidence linking her directly to the attack, then he’d be left wondering if he’d ever known the real Sexta.
She exchanged glances with Djer and smoothed the shock and fear from her features. “Fine, arrest me, but let my men go.”
“So they can drop another bomb and rescue you?” He shook his head and gave her a wry half-smile. “I’m not a fool, Sexta.”
“Neither am I.”
The air crackled with magic a split second before a blinding light exploded from her lantern.
The little minx had turned it into a flash bomb!
Dark shadows filled his vision, followed by the sounds of chaos. Grunts and calls from his men told him Djer and Sexta were using the diversion to break past their defenses and escape. Marcus fluttered his eyes, trying to erase the glare while he reached for the spot where she’d stood. A whiff of jasmine breezed by him to the right, and he whipped around to grab it. His fingers ensnared a hand full of silken hair, and his chest tightened in time with his grip. A feminine shriek signaled that he’d caught her. He yanked Sexta against him and placed the blade of his gladius against her throat.
A pair of trembling hands tugged at his arm, and remorse tore at his insides. She was more than just desperate. She was terrified. Someone must have demanded a hefty price from her to cause her to employ such measures. Time for a switch in strategy before she felt the need to fall on his sword.
He lowered his lips to her ear. “Unless you want Djer killed, order him to stop right now.”
She nodded and uttered a foreign phrase.
The Alpirion had shown no fear as he wrestled with Marcus’s men, taking on two or three at a time with barely a scratch on his bare skin. But with one word from his mistress, he backed away and lowered his sword. Djer turned to her and asked a question in the same language, his dark eyes never straying from the blade at her throat.
Marcus tightened his grip on his sword. Just lovely. One of these days, he was going to have to ask Izana for lessons in Alpirion, but it wouldn’t do him much good now. He had no idea if Sexta was convincing Djer to surrender or to free her.
She repeated her order to him, and he threw his sword down in disgust.
While his men swarmed around Djer and shackled him, Marcus pulled her into the foggy streets. “What did you say to him?”
“Just what you’d told me.” Bitterness laced her words, but the tremble had vanished from her hands. Her shoulders slumped in resignation. “I’ve cooperated with you, but please let him go. He was only trying to protect me.”
One of his men appeared, holding out a pair of chained manacles meant for Sexta. A new wave of grief assaulted him. “You know I can’t do that now.”
He stepped aside and let the soldier bind her arms behind her back. If he did it himself, it would be like admitting he’d been wrong about her all along, and he wasn’t ready to do that. The fact that she pleaded for the life of her former slave told him there was still some good left in her. He just needed time to take advantage of it.
“Take them to my ship,” he ordered, turning away before he was forced to watch his men drag her away in chains like a common criminal.
Marcus stared into the bleak landscape of what once had been a boisterous port and crossed his arms to drive away the chill. It was well past midday, yet the fog refused to burn off. It was as though the hot, dry desert of Alpiria had been replaced by the misty mountains of Volsina.
He heard the sound of footsteps long before he saw Rufius and the small patrol of soldiers returning. “Find anything?” he asked as they boarded.
“Yeah,” Rufius replied, jerking his head toward Marcus’s cabin. Whatever he found, he didn’t want to discuss it in public.
Marcus followed him inside. Once the door shut, the former soldier’s composure crumbled. Rufius paced the room and ran his fingers through his hair over and over as though something was tangled in it. “I never want to see anything like this again.”
“Tell me what you found.”
Rufius shook his head and grabbed the communication orb off Marcus’s desk. “I think the emperor needs to hear this as soon as possible.”
Marcus took it and used his magic to activate the orb. The center of the crystal started to glow with hazy images that sharpened a minute later into the face of Titus. “Sorry to disturb you, but Rufius was pretty shaken up by what he saw.”
“I wasn’t shaken up,” Rufius argued, moving to stand beside Marcus so he could give his report. “But I will admit that something is very wrong here, and I don’t just mean the total lack of living souls besides us.”
“Tell me what you saw,” Titus ordered, his face betraying nothing.
“Marcus sent me to the barracks to see if I could find a clue as to what happened to the troops stationed here, but they were completely abandoned. The burn marks on some of the buildings suggested there was a conflict, and whatever caused them appeared to be similar to a laser cannon, but everything else was just like the rest of the town. No bodies. Even more disturbing—no weapons. Whoever attacked the barracks cleaned out the arsenal.”
Marcus cursed in sync with Titus. “How much was stored here?” he asked.
“Enough,” Titus replied. “It’s a town along the barrier, so the arsenal has always been well stocked, even though I tried to keep a portion of it in raw iron instead of weaponry.”
“Well, there’s nothing now.” Rufius resumed pacing. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the disappearance of two well-trained squadrons of soldiers. These aren’t men who would flee their posts. They would fight until the death, but there isn’t even evidence of that.”
Titus stared at Marcus through the orb. “Does this match what you found?”
“Yes and no. The only warehouse that was completely empty was the one where we found Sexta. The rest appeared unscathed and fully stocked. No people.”
“And has she offered any information?”
Marcus’s throat tightened. He dreaded what he was about to be asked to do. “I haven’t questioned her yet.”
“I know this is difficult for you—”
“That doesn’t matter, Titus.” He cut him off before the emperor gave him an out and asked Rufius to interrogate Sexta. “She knows something that will help us get to the bottom of this, and I know how to extract that information from her.”
A full minute passed with Titus visually dissecting him, testing his will and making certain he’d be up to the task. His pride stung, but it was tempered by the fact he had a friend who cared enough not to ask him to do the impossible.
“I can do this, Titus,” he said, more to himself than to his emperor.
“Then I expect a full report soon.” The
image in the orb blurred and faded.
Marcus hadn’t even noticed Rufius had stopped pacing, but when he lowered the orb, the former soldier was fully focused on him.
“So what’s the story with you and her?” he asked.
“None of your business.” Marcus set the orb on the table and hid a small knife in his bracer. Sexta was desperate enough to play dirty, and he wouldn’t fall for that again.
“I say it is, especially if your personal feelings toward her could jeopardize our mission.”
“Fine, you want to know our history? I’ll give you the quick version. I was once stupid enough to give my heart to her, and she threw it into the fire. But I’m a bit wiser now, and I won’t make the same mistake twice.” He tucked another dagger into his sandal’s straps and opened the door. “I’ll be down in the brig if you need me.”
He descended into the lowest level of the ship, his steps slowing the closer he came to the iron cage that held Sexta. She sat in a chair with her hands bound behind her back. A dim lantern hung from the wall, casting shadows on her downcast face. For years, he’d known her as a woman who’d always held her head up high, a woman who’d been quick with a comeback and a smile. The woman in front of him seemed as broken as he’d felt for the last ten months.
She didn’t move as he approached but said, “I wondered when you’d come down.”
“Then you know why I’m here.”
She nodded.
He opened the brig and locked the door behind him before kneeling in front of her. “You said you were here for answers, and maybe I can give them to you, but first, you need to tell me what you know.”
Sexta lifted her eyes, giving him ample view of the fear lying in their blue depths. “Is Djer safe? My crew? My ship?”
He forced himself to remain vague. “They are for now.”
Anger replaced her fear, and he caught a glimpse of the spirited woman he’d fallen in love with. “Are you threatening me with their lives?”
“I’m not the one who holds their lives in the balance. But I can’t let you leave until you answer my questions, and the longer we wait here, the greater the chances we all suffer the same fate as the citizens of Shalfak.”