“Then why’d you do it?” Nemery asked. “If you really believed it would work, then why did you go through with it?”
“Have you heard of the Realm?” Lomaya asked.
“No,” Nemery said. “Where is it?”
“Not where,” she replied. “The Realm was a secret organization. Criminals. They controlled my professor, assassinated Prince Shad Agaul, murdered someone I was close to…” She drew in a steadying breath. “Queen Abeth has done her best to stomp them out, but Garifus Floc was one of them.”
“Legien Dyer told us he was a palace Regulator,” said Nemery.
“He was,” answered Lomaya. “But he was also a second-tier member of the Realm, known as the Faceless. He puts on a charismatic air, but the man is driven by a wicked desire for power. He told me that if I didn’t come with him to the summit, he would kill San.”
“Still, couldn’t you have thrown a different type of Grit?” Nemery suggested. “Claimed it didn’t work?”
“Then he would have killed me,” she said quietly.
“Not to be insensitive,” said Nemery, “but he kind of tried to do that anyway.”
“I was hoping for a different scenario this morning,” Lomaya said softly. “I knew a lot could happen between the harbor and here, but Shopaj was an excellent guide, and we lost only one person along the way.”
Nemery thought of that mangled corpse near the dragon hatchling. She didn’t feel anything for that stranger, but her heart still ached for little Oropsi. This was not the justice she had planned for the poor hatchling. Instead, the dragon’s murders had become powerful beyond reckoning.
“I underestimated the power of the Transformation Grit,” Lomaya admitted. “I thought, even if it works, what harm would come from eight Glassminds on Pekal’s summit?”
“That depends,” said Nemery. “What does Garifus have planned next?”
“He’ll go back to Beripent and rally the rest of the cult. There are nearly a thousand anxious to see if he returns. When they see what he’s become, they’ll follow him to the summit without hesitation. And if Garifus really knows how to make more Transformation Grit, he’ll have hundreds of Glassminds after the next Passing.”
Eight of them were unstoppable enough. Nemery couldn’t imagine hundreds.
At the sound of a snapping twig, Nemery leapt to her feet with a startled boost of energy she didn’t know she had in her.
Mohdek appeared, still breathing heavily. “They’ve moved past us,” he said quietly. “Looks like they’re making for Dornik’s Pass.”
Nemery helped Lomaya to her feet. “Then we’ll take Skyline Loop,” she said. “It’ll take us an extra day or two to get down, but we won’t have to worry about running into them again.”
“What?” said Lomaya. “No. We have to get back to Beripent before them.”
Nemery snorted. “We’re not going to Beripent.”
“They’ll kill San,” she whispered. “I need to help him escape before Garifus and the others get back.”
Mohdek shook his head. “At the rate they were moving, they’ll be to the harbor by tomorrow morning.”
“If they’re that far ahead, then we don’t need to worry about running into them again,” Lomaya said. “We could take that Pass—the faster way down…”
Nemery turned to Mohdek, switching to Trothian. “What do you think?”
“She won’t know if we take Skyline Loop,” he replied. “We could tell her it’s the Pass, just to be safe.”
“The Glassmind cult is holding her friend,” said Nemery. “We should get her down as quickly as we dare. If you think it’s safe.”
Mohdek nodded.
“Look,” Nemery said to Lomaya. “We’ll take Dornik’s Pass and see you safely back to New Vantage. We can be there in as few as four days. After that, I’m afraid you’re on your own.”
Lomaya Vans stiffened. “Thank you,” she managed to say through the disappointment on her face. “Where will you go?”
“Us?” Nemery glanced at Mohdek. “We’ll be here. Pekal is our home.”
“Then you’d better get yourselves ready,” said Lomaya. “By the end of next cycle, your home is going to be crawling with Glassminds.”
Something needed to change. I’ve known it for years now. Something major.
PART III
Is there any greater than the Homeland? Any who could rise above perfection? Nay. For if it were so, the blessed Homeland would be vanquished.
—Wayfarist Voyage, vol. 2
All that we have, and all that we are, is given by the Moon. If it gives again, we will stand with our faces upturned and our minds aglow.
—Ancient Agrodite poem
CHAPTER
17
The Elegant Perch was a top-notch establishment, in Ardor Benn’s humble opinion. New Vantage’s premier inn was aptly named, the structure built right on the edge of Pekal’s shoreline cliff. For an extra ten Ashings, he could have scored a balcony that hung right over the InterIsland Waters. But he’d seen that view plenty. He was interested in the other side of the inn, and the green slopes of Pekal, rising out of sight on a foggy morning like this.
Things had gone quite smoothly since Gloristar’s return. With the Agrodite Moon Glass and the backpack, they were able to complete their transaction with Baroness Lavfa. She had given them a signed agreement for the subterranean property below Helizon, which Ard had left with Geppel at Tofar’s Salts. The next evening, the Trothian gatekeeper had turned over the documents and paperwork that Hedge Marsool had promised.
That information had connected them with Captain Torgeston Dodset, a woman with insane connections that would allow her to get a ship in and out of any harbor without a cargo inspection. And the Stern Wake was certainly large enough to hide a fully grown sow.
Captain Dodset had provided plenty of strong arms to carry equipment and fend off attacks on Pekal. She even had a pair of Tracers that claimed to know their way around the island.
But they were still looking for a Caller in New Vantage.
Hedge Marsool’s papers had given them a name. Well, it wasn’t a name so much as an overwrought moniker.
The Terror of Wilder Far.
Cryptic, and quite off-putting. Raek had left early this morning to chase down a lead. Yawning, Ard moved down the stairs leading to the Elegant Perch’s common room. It was spacious and well lit from large, east-facing windows. There was no bar or counter, but diners were free to seat themselves at any number of tables with padded chairs, waiting for servants to ask what they’d like to eat.
Ard wouldn’t have breakfast here. Not delicious enough for the price—he’d learned that yesterday morning. But he swept the room to make sure that Raek wasn’t waiting to give him a report.
He didn’t expect to find Quarrah here, though she had rented a room next to Ard and Raek. She would be… Well, Ard didn’t even have a guess as to how Quarrah was spending her time in New Vantage. There was certainly no shortage of rich people to pickpocket.
Ard wondered how Gloristar was holding up, staying onboard the Stern Wake, cooped up belowdecks for two days now. Her appearance was just too startling for a room at the Elegant Perch. It had been difficult enough to get her onto the ship in Beripent’s harbor.
At first, Ard had questioned Gloristar’s decision not to go to the queen, but her reasons to stay in hiding were valid. Cut off from Centrum’s mental connection, the evil Glassmind had no reason to suspect that Gloristar was alive. If she made a public reappearance, word would spread like wildfire, which might provoke Centrum into attacking. And they couldn’t risk that.
Ard finished his sweep of the common room, noticing only well-dressed breakfasters. From the snippets of conversation he’d picked up, it sounded like most of them had been in New Vantage for the Moon Passing, and were preparing to head back to the Greater Chain in the next few days.
Ard was almost to the inn’s exit when the door burst open. He reached for his Rollers until he sa
w that the intruder was absolutely harmless.
It was Ednes Holcatch, just the type of person Ard wanted as a contact in a place like New Vantage. He’d found her in the town center yesterday, practically bubbling over with gossip and information.
“Oh, Mister Ardor! Praise the Homeland!” The plump woman was breathing heavily in the most dramatic fashion.
“What’s wrong, Ednes?” he asked.
“Wrong?” she cried, giggling. “Why, quite the opposite. Salafan has returned ahead of schedule. She rarely visits New Vantage this early in the cycle.”
“Salafan?” Ard asked.
“I told you about her yesterday,” Ednes said with some degree of annoyance. That really didn’t narrow it down. Ednes Holcatch had told him about a lot of people yesterday.
“That girl,” she continued. “I’ve known she was a wild thing for some time, but according to Amma, who heard from Poless, who heard from Burdal, she has some skill as a Caller. Ha! Who knew that rat’s nest of a hairdo had such finesse?”
Ard held up his hand with hopes that she’d stop talking.
“You were looking for a Caller, were you not?” she said.
“Yes, yes,” replied Ard. “But not just any kid that can blow a horn. I hardly think that this Salafan could be the one they call”—he lowered his voice—“the Terror of Wilder Far.”
“Well, I don’t know anything about that,” she said. “Why, a name like that sounds absolutely chilling.” The woman shuddered. “But if you’ve tried Raston’s Expeditions—”
“We have,” Ard interrupted.
“Then you might as well talk to Salafan,” continued Ednes. “She might know more about this Terror you’re looking for. Rumor has it, the wild girl is unregistered, unaffiliated. And Homeland knows she’s discreet.”
Ard sighed. It was worth a shot. “Where is she?”
“Well, her Trothian boyfriend’s down at the harbor for a soak.” She paused. “Trothian boyfriend,” she said again, as if it should have gotten a bigger response from Ard. But why would he care whom other people were loving? He had enough trouble with his own love life.
“And where is this Salafan?” he asked again.
“Oh, she stopped at Burdal’s Provisions, not fifteen minutes ago,” said Ednes. “She’s with a young woman I didn’t recognize.”
“Burdal’s Provisions?”
“A shop in the town center,” she answered.
“Ednes, you’re a gem,” he said. “I don’t know how I could possibly repay you.”
She giggled again. “Dinner?” she suggested. “Somewhere quiet?”
Ard stopped himself from recoiling. The woman was more than a decade older than him and, quite frankly, too chatty to be his type. He wouldn’t get a word in edgewise at dinner with Ednes Holcatch.
“Dinner…” Ard nodded slowly. “Yes. Definitely. Probably not tonight, though.” He moved past her, slipping outside into the cool summer morning. “I’ll contact you!” He broke into a jog down the street. Phew. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to follow up on that.
He found his way to the courtyard in the town center easily enough, keeping his eye out for Raek and Quarrah as he went. No sign of his companions, but he did see a Holy Isle preaching on one street corner. It was unlikely that the man would recognize him, but Ard kept his head low anyway. He’d told Prime Isle Trable that he needed some personal time to visit his aged and estranged grandmother in Strind before she died. Trable had given him two weeks. Ard figured that would be plenty of time to steal a dragon.
He entered the courtyard, moving around the impressive statue of the dragon at its center. There was a string quartet performing under a covered awning. Unlike street musicians in the Char, no one was throwing them money, though a decent crowd had gathered to watch. Maybe this was an actual concert.
Ard stepped onto the front porch of Burdal’s Provisions. The door struck a little bell hanging from the top of the doorjamb, announcing his arrival.
A portly man with a droopy mustache stood behind the counter, conversing with two young women. The first was a sunburned blonde, who turned nervously the moment Ard entered. The second was smaller, dark skinned, and dressed in clothes more rural than a field worker. There was a well-worn pack at her feet and a longbow strung across her shoulder. She didn’t pay any attention to the door chime, obviously working some kind of deal with the man Ard presumed to be Burdal. This had to be the girl Ednes had told him about.
Ard left the door ajar, stopping next to a fine-looking Caller instrument on display. He cleared his throat, but he only got a response from Burdal.
“I’ll be with you in a moment.”
“I’m looking for Salafan,” Ard announced.
The dark-haired girl turned and Ard’s heart leapt. If he looked past her rough appearance and wild hair, if he changed the expression on her face from pure confidence to frightened insecurity, if he pictured her younger… naive and innocent… By the Homeland.
It was Nemery Baggish!
He opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it.
“Ardor?” She took an unsure step forward. “Ardor Benn? What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Then she tilted her head skeptically. “Did my parents send you? Be honest.”
Ard let out a laugh. Same talkative spirit, even if nothing else about her seemed familiar. “Your parents? Nemery, I’ve never even met them. I promise.”
She visibly relaxed. “Then why were you looking for me?”
“I didn’t know it was you,” he admitted. “Ednes told me that you—”
“Ednes Holcatch?” Nemery cut him off. “You can’t believe half of what that woman says.”
“Well, she was right this time.” Ard took a step toward her. “She told me Salafan was a Caller. And I happen to be looking for one.”
Nemery broke eye contact, seeming suddenly interested in the stocked shelves. “Yeah, well… I can’t help you this time.”
“Oh, no. It’s… I’m actually looking for someone they call the Terror of Wilder Far.”
Her dark eyes snapped up, making intense contact with his. “Maybe we should talk outside.”
“You know him?” Ard asked.
Nemery strode past, stepping through the open door, the morning sunlight glinting off some metal beads she had woven into her black hair. Ard followed her, but the girl was talking before he had even swung the door shut.
“It’s me, okay?” she whispered. “I’m the one they call the Terror of Wilder Far.”
Ard started to chuckle, but the serious look on her face quashed it. “You?” he said. “What does that name even mean?”
“Never mind that,” she snapped. “Who sent you to find me?”
“I got the name from Hedge Marsool.”
“Who?”
“The King Poacher?” Ard said. “Grizzled fellow with one eye and a spike on his arm?”
“I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
Ard scratched his chin. “He named you specifically in a document—”
“Me?” she cried. Then she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Nemery Baggish?”
“Not your real name,” Ard said. “Not even Salafan. Is that what you’re going by now? How long have you been here?”
“Listen, Ardor,” she said. “I’m sorry I can’t help you, but I’m not taking clients into the mountains anymore. There are a handful of decent Callers in New Vantage. You should try the Harvester’s Exchange on the south side—”
“I’m not interested in a decent Caller,” Ard cut her off. “Not when I’m talking to an extraordinary one.” He didn’t miss the tug of a smile at the corner of her lips. “Besides, Raek has already shaken down most of the legitimate Callers on New Vantage. They want to see our Harvesting papers and…” He shrugged. “Well, I’m sure you remember how I work.”
Nemery looked up at him. “I’d like to, Ardor. I really would. But I—”
“You don’t have an instrument?” he guessed. “
I’ll buy you that one.” He gestured back toward the one in the shop.
“You can’t buy it,” she said.
“Oh? I’m not bothered by a little NOT FOR SALE sign.”
“You can’t buy it,” Nemery repeated, “because I just did.”
Ard raised his eyebrows. Where did little Nemery Baggish come up with enough Ashings for an instrument that fine?
“I recently came by some Ashings,” she explained. “From a job… Burdal’s an old friend, so he cut me a deal.”
“If you have an instrument,” said Ard, “then what’s the holdup? Is it payment? I can offer you—”
“I owe you my life, Ardor Benn,” she cut him off. “I’m not letting you pay me.”
Well, that was a new phrase. This girl was dealing one surprise after another.
Nemery strummed absently at the bowstring across her chest. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t have time. Something’s happened. On Pekal. And until I figure out what to do about it, I can’t spend my time as a Caller on a simple Harvesting expedition.”
Ard studied her youthful face, trying to figure out what she meant. Something had obviously spooked her. Only more reason for Ard to convince her to join them. If Nemery was frightened about Pekal now, wait till she saw what would happen if Hedge didn’t get his dragon… There would be Glassminds all over these slopes.
“What if I told you it wasn’t a Harvesting expedition?” Ard ventured.
Nemery chewed on that for a moment. “What do you have in mind?”
“There’s a lot at stake, Nemery Baggish,” said Ard. “I’m here for a job. And if we don’t get it done, my employer has plans to make a lot of people Moonsick.”
Her entire expression darkened. “Are you talking about Moonsickness,” she whispered, “or Glassminds?”
Ard’s breath caught in his throat. “How do you know about—”
“I think we need to talk somewhere else.”
Nemery stood between Lomaya and Mohdek on the dock, staring up the ramp to the Stern Wake. It was a massive ship—larger than any she had ever set foot on, with three great masts topped with Esparian flags.
The Last Lies of Ardor Benn Page 28