Moss Forest Orchid (Silver and Orchids Book 1)

by Shari L. Tapscott

  The majority of the buildings are built of wood. The salt, sun, and wet weather have leached the color from the boards, leaving the entire city a dull gray. Fishing nets hang from windows and balconies, and several men sit in front of shoppes, twisting their creations with deft hands.

  “Excuse me,” someone hollers. “Girl!”

  I come to a halt and glance over my shoulder. A man makes his way down the gangplank of the ship I just left. He wears a long gray jacket over a silken, front-laced doublet, and his tall black boots gleam in the dim afternoon light. With short, light brown hair and strong, masculine facial features, he may be the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  “Girl,” he calls again.

  Surreptitiously, I glance one way and then the other, positive he must be speaking to someone else. When I see there’s no other girl nearby, I set my hands on my hips and square my shoulders at him. I arch an eyebrow and put on a bland expression.

  The man strides to me, a smile on his face. “Forgive me, but I overheard your conversation with my boatswain. You wish to travel aboard my ship?”

  My stomach lurches. He’s the captain?

  “What of it?”

  Startled by my suspicious reply, his easy expression falters. “I overheard that you’re seeking Moss Forest orchids—that’s not an easy task. I had hoped to strike a deal with you, perhaps allow you free passage to aid you in your quest…if you were to do me a small favor.”

  So, that’s his game.

  “A favor, you say?” I sashay toward him and walk my fingers up the exquisite fabric of his doublet. Taken off guard, the captain gulps, and his eyes stray to my hand. I lean close, looking up at him with my lips slightly parted and my eyes veiled. Then I grab the collar of his shirt, drag him toward me, and slide my dagger to his throat. “I’m not that kind of girl. Are we clear?”

  The man blinks at me, and then his surprise morphs to a delighted smirk. “And I wasn’t asking for that kind of favor.”

  Several moments go by, and he raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to release him and remove my blade.

  “Oh. Well then.” I slide the dagger back in its sheath, unclench my hand, and pat the once-crisp, now-wrinkled fabric back into place. “What did you have in mind?”

  He grins. “The name’s Avery.”

  “Lucia,” I respond, my tone brusque. “What’s the favor?”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lucia.” Neither of us stepped back after the confrontation, and now we’re standing a bit too close. Without looking down, Avery takes my hand and brushes his lips over my knuckles. “Have you been in Fermall long? The weather is usually milder this time of year.”

  I narrow my eyes and attempt to hide a smile. None-too-gently, I pull my hand back. “Enough with the pleasantries, Captain. What is it you wish me to do?”

  ***

  It’s no wonder the captain didn’t want to be seen in this part of the city. The streets are dirty with soot from the fires the city’s beggars light at night, iron bars line most windows, and there are double locks on doors. A few shoppes are scattered amidst the broken-down houses, but I’m having trouble locating the one Avery sent me in search of. “It has a big window in the front,” he said.

  Very helpful.

  I straighten my belted leather sheath as I take in my surroundings yet again. No one paid me much attention when I first arrived. Unlike Sebastian, I have a knack for blending in with the scenery when I want to. But now that I’ve wandered up and down the street three times, people are beginning to take notice of me. A man across the way slouches against a building and smokes a pipe as his eyes follow me. He makes me nervous, and my fingers play with the handle of my dagger.

  For the third time, I stop in front of the only shoppe on the street with a window that may be considered large. Like the rest of the surroundings, the glass is too filthy to see through. What once might have been painted gold lettering has mostly weathered away.

  Glancing over my shoulder at the man behind me, I open the door and slip into the establishment. Musty air hits me the moment I cross the threshold. The scent of dust, mildew, and magic hangs in the air. Items are piled high—stacks of books with yellowing pages teeter precariously on ancient desks, and odd art punctuates multi-colored rugs that have been haphazardly thrown on the floor. Odds and ends and knick-knacks lie everywhere, discarded and forgotten.

  With this kind of disarray, the shopkeeper’s likely dead. If I venture back far enough, I’m sure to find his crumbling bones.

  “Hello?” I call, hesitant.

  I step over a tarnished set of steel armor. It appears to be several hundred years old. In the low light, it casts the faintest hint of blue. Though there’s probably little life left in it, enchanted armor’s worth a fortune.

  “Sir?” I use my dagger to lift an ornate gown that lies over the back of an upholstered chair. I grimace and drop the garment when I find a dead rat languishing underneath. With less enthusiasm than before, I call, “Or…Madame, perhaps?”

  I’m about to give up, look for a different shoppe for this cannot be the establishment Avery was speaking of, when a tiny, eccentric-looking man turns the corner from the back room. He stops abruptly when he sees me, appearing to be as startled to find a patron in his store as I am to see he’s alive and well.

  “Well” might be an overstatement. The man’s skin is rather gray, and his bushy white eyebrows betray his age. He wears a jacket two sizes too large, and for a moment I wonder if he perhaps stumbled on a rogue spell and accidentally shrunk himself.

  “Do I know you?” he asks, dumbfounded.

  Shaking my head to clear it, I take a tentative step forward and hand him the note Avery gave me. “Captain Avery of The Greybrow Serpent sent me. I’m here to pick up a box.”

  The man watches me for several moments, assessing me. Then he flips the note open and reads it, raising his eyebrows as he nears the end. After he’s finished, he flicks the note closed and pockets it. “Delivery page, are you?”

  I cross my arms. “I’m here only as a favor. My usual occupation is obtaining artifacts and art for collectors. Occasionally, I will scout for elusive alchemy ingredients.”

  “So…you’re a delivery girl.”

  Biting my lip, I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “The package, sir?”

  Without a word, he holds up a finger, silently telling me to stay put, and then he makes his way through the maze of rubbish and priceless artifacts to his desk. “It’s fortuitous you arrived just now. I have a job for you, caddie.”

  Unable to help myself, I close my eyes and angle my face toward the ceiling. With feigned patience, I say, “I’m not a caddie or a delivery page or any sort of errand-girl. I’m here as a favor only.”

  With a loud thump, the man plops a small crated box on the desk in front of him. “I need you to take this to the Dappled Mare Inn. Inform them you have a delivery for a man by the name of Ivan.”

  “Are you serious, sir? Have you listened to a word I’ve said?”

  He narrows his eyes. “With that attitude, young woman, you will not be receiving a tip.”

  I stare at him for several moments, obstinate.

  The man stares right back.

  “For the love of—fine.” I toss my hands in the air. “Give me the wretched box.”

  Just as I’m reaching for it, he pulls it out of my grasp. “Only give it to Ivan, you understand?”

  “Yes, yes. Let’s get on with it.”

  I reach for it again, and again he pulls it back. “Do not, under any circumstances, open it.” With the box still out of my grasp, he leans forward, his eyes huge. “Do not open the box.”

  All right, that’s a bit odd. A tiny warning murmurs in the back of my mind, but, honestly, I don’t care enough to worry myself over it.

  I nod, a sincere look on my face. “I understand you fully. But, sir, I have one question.”

  Satisfied, the man sets the box in my hands. “Yes, Delivery Girl?”
<
br />   “You’re saying that I must, no matter what, open the box to inspect the goods before I hand them over to this Ivan fellow, correct?”

  The shopkeeper sputters and tries to snatch the cargo back, but before he can, I’m stepping through the door. Over my shoulder, I call, “Have no fear, sir. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  ***

  The box rattles. And occasionally, red smoke drifts from cracks in the wooden slats. I’m old enough to admit there’s a lot I don’t know about the world. But I do know I’m delivering something that’s quite possibly illegal in seven out of nine of the provinces in Kalea.

  The Dappled Mare Inn is the nicest in the city, but even it’s a bit on the shabby side. One thing is for certain, I’m not going to start looking for real estate in Fermall.

  I walk up the wooden steps, smiling at a woman who’s giving my box a wary look, and hurry through the door before she can ask me any questions.

  A bored-looking girl sits at the counter toward the back. “Looking for a room?”

  “A man, actually.”

  She flashes me a quick grin. “Aren’t we all?”

  My answering laugh is polite even if a little forced. I’m more than ready to be done with this unwanted detour.

  “What’s your man’s name?” she asks, flipping open her leather-encased ledger.

  “Ivan. I don’t have a surname.”

  She glances at my box. “Delivery?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You can leave it with me. I’ll give it to him.”

  “That would be fi—” The box shakes in my hand. Whatever is inside seems a little too eager. I grimace and then sigh. “I’m afraid my instructions are to give it to him myself.”

  The girl nods, not caring any more than I do. “You’re welcome to wait for him. Have a seat.”

  I choose a chair by the fireplace and stare out the open window, silently willing Ivan to hurry up and claim his magical contraband.

  But it’s not Ivan who walks in.

  “Are you following me?” I demand the moment Sebastian steps through the door.

  He looks as startled to see me as I am him.

  “Lucia, what are you—” He stops and turns his eyes on my package. “What is that?”

  I shrug. “I’m playing delivery girl—a chore you should be more than familiar with. It’s not exactly my job to ask questions, now is it?”

  “Who sent you with it?”

  Again, I shrug, knowing my vague answer will get a satisfying response out of Sebastian.

  “Honestly, Lucia. There are times I think your head is full of air.” He’s about to go on, but the door opens again.

  A small, reedy man with shifty eyes steps into the inn. He looks like he’s criminally inclined; he must be my man. I stand and fake a smile. “Ivan, I presume?”

  He turns and peers at me with a sharp expression. His eyes then drift to the box, and he twitches, eager. “Depends.”

  “Just take it already. I don’t have all day.” I thrust the package into his hands. At the last minute, I pull it back, just as the shopkeeper did to me. “You must promise you don’t have any nefarious purposes for it.”

  “Of course not,” he lies smoothly.

  “Good enough for me.” I’m already half out the door.

  Sebastian, of course, is on my heels.

  “Lucia! You can’t—”

  “You heard the nice man, Sebastian.” I keep walking. “No nefarious purposes.”

  A man on stilts lights the street lamps. The salty smell of the sea is heavy in the cool evening air, and the gulls are just quieting for the night. I make my way back to the low-income district, listening idly while Sebastian lectures me about my life choices. All of them.

  About to turn down a street I know he won’t approve of, I stop and make shooing motions with my hands. “Why are you still following me? Run along now, darling.”

  With his perfectly-practiced condescending look on his face, Sebastian peers down the street. “You think I’m a fool?”

  “No!” I give him a pretty smile. “Not that I’d ever tell you to your face.”

  “You’ll be robbed if you go that way.”

  “And you’ll be robbed if you follow me.” I gesture to him, slowly moving my hand up and then down. “Your clothes practically scream, ‘Mug me! I’m rich, and even my underthings are worth hawking to the caravans.’”

  I turn, hoping I’ve shocked him enough he’ll leave me be. Apparently, I haven’t. He balks, but he stays by my side. He is now, however, blessedly silent.

  Until we reach the shoppe, that is.

  “You’re not going in there.”

  It’s dark now, and the homeless have lit their fires. They laugh and talk, all merry like they’re living like kings. To each their own, I suppose.

  The smell of roasted muskrat—at least I hope it’s muskrat and not cat—wafts to us, and I cringe.

  “Want to share a drink, Fancy Man?” a painted woman with a revealing bodice says to Sebastian. She grabs his arm and tries to pull him toward their group.

  Stiffly, Sebastian shakes her off. “No, madame. Thank you.”

  She snorts. “Such a gentleman!”

  The rest of the crowd roars, and Sebastian gives me a pointed look.

  “Come on,” I say as I push him through the shoppe door.

  The shopkeeper looks up when we step inside and blinks like he’s trying to remember who I am. “Violet? Is that you?”

  The man is as mad as a jester.

  I point to my chest and snarl, “Delivery Girl.”

  “Ah.” His eyes clear. “Did you give Ivan the package? I assume you didn’t open it because I heard no explosion.”

  That one gives me pause. I stare at the man, my mouth half opened, and then I finally say, “Yes. Now give me Avery’s box.”

  He waves my words away. “First, I must pay you.”

  I start to tell him that won’t be necessary, but then I come to my senses. “A mix of small and large coins will be fine.”

  The man laughs. “I’m not giving you something as common as denats, Delivery Girl.”

  Sebastian snorts. He’s leaning against the door, trying to stay as far away from the “merchandise” as possible.

  With a flourish, the shopkeeper sets a fabric-wrapped bundle on his desk. I take a step closer, both curious and wary. “What is it?”

  “‘What is it,’ she asks,” he murmurs to himself with a chuckle. Slowly, he unwraps the bundle, revealing something precious.

  My breath catches in my throat, but I don’t dare let Sebastian see my excitement. I shrug. “What would I want with a munchkin dragon?”

  The egg is glossy, crimson like rubies, and the size of a goose egg. My hands itch to snatch it off the fabric, to cradle it in my palms.

  With an affectionate stroke to the shell, the man glares at me and says, “It’s worth more than you can imagine.”

  Sebastian pushes away from the door and examines the egg. “It’s large for a munchkin. It won’t be worth as much—but it’s still too much for the errand. What’s wrong with it?”

  The shopkeeper glares at Sebastian. “It’s perfect.”

  Sebastian is about to argue, about to tell the man I have no need for the tiny dragon, and I panic.

  “Fine,” I say sharply, hoping to look bored. “Give me the egg.”

  “You shouldn’t take it, Lucia,” Sebastian says. “The man is clearly trying to swindle you out of real compensation.”

  “I don’t care at this point.” I turn to the shopkeeper. “Give me the egg and Avery’s package, and we’ll be on our way.”

  The eccentric man narrows his eyes. “I owned the mother, Delivery Girl. She was spectacular. Do not take this responsibility lightly.”

  I glance at Sebastian, uncertain, and then I meet the shopkeeper’s eyes. “I won’t.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Choose a Ship Wisely

  “Who’s Avery, and why are you running
his errands?” Sebastian demands the moment we leave the shoppe.

  The dragon egg is tucked safely in the pouch at my side, and I hold another box in my hands. Fortunately, this one doesn’t rattle or emit strange-colored smoke.

  “He’s the captain of the ship I’m taking to Grenalda.”

  Sebastian stops. “There’s only one passenger ship making the journey this season, and I can assure you the captain’s name is not Avery.”

  I walk ahead of him. “It’s not a passenger vessel. It’s a merchant ship.”

  “You can’t take a merchant ship!”

  “Why?” I demand.

  The ocean is in view now. The almost-full moon peeks out from behind a cloud, and light glistens off the turbulent water. A gust of wind picks up, whipping my hair over my face.

  “Because you’re a woman!” Sebastian says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Honestly, I would wonder if you were raised by wolves if it weren’t for the fact that I know your family myself.”

  His statement is laughable since Sebastian often compares my family to a pack of wolves.

  “You must educate me, Wise One.”

  Sebastian ignores my sarcasm. “You shouldn’t travel overseas without a female companion. You most certainly shouldn’t travel on a ship full of men.”

  “Why?” I ask again. “Do you believe I’m so very ravishing that those poor sailors won’t be able to control themselves? Oh, Sebastian. I had no idea you felt that way.”

  The look he gives me is priceless.

  “You must find it terribly difficult to be around me,” I go on.

  Deadpan, he answers, “You have no idea.”

  Unable to stop myself, I turn to him and actually smile. I’ve missed our banter. I would never admit it to Sebastian, but not a day goes by I don’t wish I could turn back time and fix the mistake I made. He may drive me to near-madness, and there are times I want to toss him off a ravine, but I cannot imagine my life without him.