“I’d tell you it gets easier, but it really doesn’t.” He offered her the bottle.
She took several pulls from it, head tilted back to examine the blue sky overhead. It was past noon, so the sun was high, playing peekaboo through some gauzy clouds. The altitude kept them cool even with the brightness. Part of that came from the Winter Isle as well. He watched her, trying to decide if he’d ever known a woman’s face so well. He could probably draw her from memory, all the little dips and curves, the birthmark on her forearm. At the moment, she hardly resembled the precise perfectionist he’d been partnered with years before, but the changes were more than superficial. The past months had altered them both.
“I find something to believe in. If you’re lucky, you meet a few people . . . and you’d rather have them be brutally honest than hear polite lies from anyone else.” He paused. “Of course, it took me a while to realize that. And I took some rather uncomfortable turns along the way.”
“I don’t think I’d be very good at drinking and brooding. I suspect I could manage as a bitter recluse, however.”
While he watched, she ate the rest of her tortured bread and cheese, more mechanically than with any real enjoyment. He could see that she was troubled, possibly still worried about the job or her future. Mikani was once more tempted to read her. He had been repressing that urge more often of late, but he didn’t have the right to impose in that way—and with her least of all.
“I would much appreciate it if you held off on your impulse to become a hermit. We’re quite the pair, Celeste Ritsuko. I’d be well and truly lost without you.”
She smiled at him, then she did the most astonishing thing. Ritsuko leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll take you with me.”
Mikani started, lifting a hand to where her lips had brushed his cheek. Before he could come up with a response, though, Hu’s deep laughter rolled over them, followed by Saskia’s voice, getting closer. They sound . . . pleased with themselves.
“Are you two ready to get moving?” Hu called.
Turning, he saw that they were walking hand in hand. Saskia was smiling, a sweet but wistful light in her eyes. Mikani sensed her reservations, strong enough to penetrate without him trying to pick them up. She knows she’ll always have that wanderlust. And someday, Hu will want to take her to the Seven Sisters to stay. But I hope they’re happy until then.
Nearby, Ritsuko wriggled toward the back of the cart. It was a reflex to help her, settling his partner for travel before responding to the others.
“More than,” he answered, loud enough to carry. “I’ve had enough of Mount Surtir.”
CHAPTER 27
NORTHPORT WAS A WELCOME SIGHT AFTER FIVE LONG DAYS on the road. Ritsuko found it taxing to be so limited in what she was permitted to do, and she was tired of jolting in the cart. So when they approached from the low hills to the west, she was glad to recognize the buildings clustered on the coast. This trip had gone relatively smooth—no elemental attacks, no craggers—but the distance between inns seemed to increase by the day.
Mikani pointed at a train, motionless on the tracks a couple of miles from the city. The heavy engine, marked with the prominent crest of House Skarsgard in flaking paint, had split along the riveted seams. The flat cars lined up neatly behind it were piled up with the remains of steam cars and smaller engines; they were all ruptured and thrashed into heaps of barely recognizable iron and brass. Ritsuko could only hope that the conductor had been able to get away before the bound elemental had finally burst its bonds in a blast of superheated steam and flying metal debris.
“It looks like they’ve been busy. I can’t hear any explosions, at least.” He motioned farther along the track, where she saw at least three more debris-laden trains stretching back to the city proper.
“That’s good. I’d rather not fight today,” Ritsuko answered.
“Me either,” Irahi added.
Miss Braelan looked tired as well, and the horses were in no better shape. If they’d had more mounts, they might have been able to speed their journey. As it was, slow and careful had ruled the day. So she was glad things seemed to have settled in Northport, though they couldn’t be sure how bad it was until they actually entered the town proper.
The streets showed signs of fire and shattered windows. Some of the walls bore marks of gunfire; but on the whole, whatever chaos had been unleashed in Northport seemed to have been contained. People went about their business, sweeping and cleaning up. The faint aroma of fresh-baked bread wafted to Ritsuko, and she could not help a smile at the small sign of normalcy. A few of the townsfolk waved as they rode past. A woman came up to Mikani and pushed a small basket into his hands before heading back to her store. He gave Ritsuko a puzzled look when he peered inside the basket to find some sweet rolls and fruit.
They must think we are refugees. And to look at us, I cannot say I blame them.
“I was expecting worse. We must have stopped the worst of it before hell rained down on the city.” Mikani took a bite from an apple and offered her the rest of the basket.
She chose a cake, as it had been days since they’d had anything besides dry meat or stale bread. Mikani drove the cart through the city to the docks. Evidence of the fighting was stronger here. A number of half-submerged steamers dotted the harbor; the water wasn’t deep enough to swallow the vast frames, so the waves rose and fell against broken hulls as if the ships were part of some rusted reef. Surviving vessels had cannons out, even in dock. She saw holes in buildings that could only have come from a barrage. Some piers were damaged or charred in places.
Worried, she scanned for the Gull and found it relatively unscathed. The hull had been obviously repaired, and the sails were patched, but to her inexperienced eyes, the vessel seemed seaworthy. Ritsuko waved away assistance in hopping down from her perch on the cart; her skin felt dry and tight, but the pain wasn’t as bad as it had been. Ritsuko felt self-conscious in her robe, which must smell dreadful by now.
Since the crew had no warning of their arrival, there was no welcoming party, and they made their way aboard without fanfare. Sailors were busy scrubbing at burn marks and sanding spots where new wood had been hammered over old. The Gull needed a proper refinishing to gleam like it did the first Ritsuko saw it. But she was relieved that it hadn’t ended up at the bottom of the sea.
As soon as the boatswain spotted them, she hurried over, a wide smile softening her hard features. “I’m glad to see you made it back,” Miss Oliver said.
“How did you fare?” Miss Braelan asked.
Mr. Ferro broke from supervising a group of crewmen reinforcing the mainmast. “Now that’s a story. Why don’t you freshen up, and I’ll have cook put a meal together. Then we’ll talk.”
It was doubtless a testament to the ordeal, but even the first mate sounded less taciturn, warmer to Ritsuko’s ears.
Miss Braelan nodded. “That sounds good. I was starting to feel as if I were growing into the back of that horse.”
“Speaking of the animals,” Mr. Loison said. “What would you like me to do with them?”
“Hire a local to return them to Eldheim. It was kind of Mr. Kurtz to let us borrow them, but I’m sure his brother can use them back.” Miss Braelan smiled fleetingly, touched Irahi on the arm, then headed for her cabin.
“We need to see to those burns, Celeste. At least change the bandages.” The doctor took her arm gently, guiding her to the Gull’s infirmary.
Mikani stayed a couple of steps behind her. “I can help.”
“Go wash up. The point of the infirmary’s that it’s clean.” Irahi grinned at her partner; Mikani scowled. “I promise she’ll be fine. You can see her at dinner.”
Ritsuko held his gaze, aiming for a reassuring look. Eventually, he nodded and headed for his cabin with a mutter. “Bloody doctors.”
Her legs looked simultaneously better and worse. The scars were tight and ugly, red, but the skin was starting to heal, which meant there was a l
ight, thin layer growing over the burns. It gave her calves a peculiar, lizardly look. She winced as Irahi washed them, patted them dry, then applied some ointment from his store of medicines.
“Did I hurt you? I might have a topical analgesic somewhere—”
“No, it’s fine. It looks worse than it is.”
“That’s not true.” He commended her stoicism, but Ritsuko really wanted him to finish the treatment so she could have a bath, too. And Irahi must’ve sensed her impatience because he wrapped her legs efficiently. “There, that’s done it.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you in the captain’s quarters?”
“Indeed. As if you weren’t tired of my company by now.”
“Not that. I’m just rather grubby.”
Before he carried Miss Braelan off, he would’ve said something charming about her appearance, but today, he only smiled as she excused herself from the infirmary. In her cabin, she found a ewer of water, a pot of soap, and a clean cloth. Ritsuko made good use of them, tidied her hair, then changed into clean trousers, cut wide enough not to bother her legs. Shoes were a problem, however, as her boots had been destroyed, and Mikani had been carrying her as if she had no feet at all. Sighing, she donned a pair of stockings, folding them down above her heels, so they didn’t touch the bandages. Then she went to join the others.
Miss Braelan sat at the head of the table, sipping a glass of white wine. She had washed and changed so she seemed much as she had at the beginning of their journey. When she looked at the doctor, she looked better, if anything—but Ritsuko noticed a lingering shadow in her eyes. Irahi was smiling, chatting with Miss Oliver and the first mate. The cabin boy stood ready to serve, but Sam nodded at her when she stepped in and took her seat.
Ritsuko was about to ask after Mikani when he stepped in. He’d washed but not shaved. His hair was slicked back and sleeves rolled up to show some fresh scars she’d not noticed earlier. He sat next to her with a grin, exchanging perfunctory greetings with the others.
He was wearing his bowler hat.
Mr. Loison cleared his throat, and more than one of them started in surprise. He had been quietly standing in the corner behind Miss Braelan. “It is good to have you all back. During your absence, repairs to the ship were completed to satisfaction. We have replenished our store of supplies and are quite ready to head for home, Mistress.”
“Thank you, Loison.” Miss Braelan reached up to squeeze the clerk’s arm; he seemed surprised. She turned back to her first mate. “Mr. Ferro?”
“The agreement with the Free Traders and House Magnus held. There was some trouble last week, but things settled the last few days. Lost three more men. It’ll be a tight run, but we can make it.” He handed the captain a couple of sheets of paper; Miss Braelan’s lips had pressed to a thin line at the mention of more losses, but she offered Mr. Ferro a smile with her thanks.
“We’ll see to their families. We’ve all lost far too much on this trip . . . but their sacrifice was not in vain.”
Ritsuko settled in to listen to the rest of the news—and to eat a proper meal. After all, I’ll need my strength. We still have to report to the Major General.
• • •
ONCE THE SHOES arrived from the cobbler, Ritsuko was ready to set out. Mikani waited for her to finish getting dressed, then they went on deck.
“You’re sure we can’t come with you?” Saskia asked. The doctor stood beside her, frowning. Saskia and Hu weren’t pleased at being left behind.
“No, it’s best this way.”
Sorry, I know we’ve come a long way together.
In the end, they saw the wisdom in preparing the Gull for immediate departure. If Thorgrim reacted as he feared she would, he and Ritsuko might end up in irons or worse, and they’d need friends on the outside. The Houses are too fond of making problems disappear. We’ve found more than our share of those “problems” floating in the river back home.
Mikani checked his sidearm for the third time and nodded to Ritsuko. He led the way along the docks and warehouse district toward the Major General’s palace, trusting Ritsuko to keep up. She was walking much better; he had full confidence that she’d make a full recovery between Hu’s skills and her innate courage. He knew he could trust her at his back, so he scanned the side streets while they moved. He could see a checkpoint a half dozen blocks up a main avenue: soldiers flying Magnus colors, probably guarding a nobleman’s warehouse or shipping concern. As they climbed up the hills toward the palace, he saw another Magnus and two Skarsgard checkpoints. Thorgrim squadrons patrolled the near side of the streets and down to the edge of the docks.
Like wolves. Watching their territory. The common citizens ignored the soldiers for the most part, talking and shouting. Going on with their lives, or doing their best to.
“You’d never guess that we were moments away from a fiery apocalypse.” Mikani spoke at Ritsuko as she caught up with him.
“It’s obvious in their faces. In their voices, too.” She tilted her head at a group of women, chattering nearby. “They’re a little too loud, lingering a little too long. Normally, they’d speak a few words and go about their business, you see? There’s work to be done. But watch how they stand in clusters. They’re afraid to go home, afraid it’ll start all over again, and they’ll be alone.”
Mikani studied them for a few seconds, loosening his hold on his gift to taste the air properly. “I see what you mean.”
He also saw the shadows she’d mentioned, both beneath the women’s eyes, which spoke of sleepless nights, and the skittish dart of their eyes as they watched other people on the street. It would take time for the people of Northport to forget what almost happened here.
Thoughtful, he strode on toward the Major General’s palace. As he came up to the main gates, the largest of three guards stepped forward and signaled for them to stop. “State your business, please.”
“Inspectors Ritsuko and Mikani. On Council business with the Major General. I’ll wager she’s expecting us.”
With a frown, the sergeant motioned for one of his men to run up to the main building, and he turned back to glare at Mikani. They waited five minutes or so before a runner dashed down to guide them to Lady Thorgrim.
“I’m nervous,” Ritsuko whispered.
He knew that already, not from reading her but from the way she twisted her fingers as they walked. The Major General’s complex had come through unscathed. There were more servants and guards moving through the corridors than last time; as the troubles outside had simmered down to a tense standoff between the three Houses, she must have pulled her men back home. No one challenged their passage, though a few gave them curious looks.
Lady Maire waited for them in her study. She sat behind an ancient desk, cluttered with piles of reports and maps. She did not rise when they entered but offered a wan smile that seemed sincere. She had dark circles under her eyes, and a few strands of dark hair had escaped their bonds to frame her round face.
“Inspectors. Since my city’s not burned to the ground and our steam engines have stopped trying to kill my citizens, I must assume that you were successful in closing that portal.”
Mikani exchanged a look with Ritsuko. The Major General noticed the hesitation and rose, coming around her desk.
“We managed to put an end to the fire-elemental rampages, Lady Thorgrim.”
“So I noticed. But the mirrors are still dead and there is not a wind crystal left unshattered in Northport, if not the whole Winter Isle. It may be best if you told me exactly what happened. Spare no detail, please; I’m very interested in hearing this story.”
“Are the chalices still working?” Ritsuko asked. Water elementals bound to crystal cups, the ice chalices were the primary means of medical attention for serious injuries. Healers were reputed to treat their bound elementals with the same respect and care as weather witches did their familiars—once an eccentricity, now a godsend.
The Major General nodded. “If they weren’t, there
’d be a lot more families in mourning today. And several golems helped in putting out fires and stopping the rampaging fire elementals that broke free from their spheres during the worst of the troubles.”
“That is good news,” Ritsuko said.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” Lady Thorgrim said. “Shall I ring for refreshments?”
Mikani took a seat in an ornate chair that looked better than it sat, with carved arms and thin brocade upholstery while Ritsuko sat nearby on a small settee. The Major General turned to the young man who had guided them into the room and spoke in a low tone. He guessed she was asking for a tray of tea and sandwiches, polite but unnecessary. Once the staff footman left, Lady Thorgrim folded her hands and regarded them expectantly.
“I perceive from your hesitation that you have bad news. I’d rather have it straight.”
Ritsuko’s silence told Mikani that she meant to let him do the talking. Are you sure that’s wise? Nonetheless, he laid out what had happened, sparing no detail of what had gone on in Eldheim. By the time he finished, the older woman wore a look of comical shock. Before she could respond, however, a light tap on the door interrupted the proceedings.
At her quiet call of permission, the servant brought a silver salver laid with a variety of finger sandwiches and small cakes, along with a formal tea service. It seemed like excessive hospitality for the reception of two public servants, but Ritsuko took a cream cake, probably to show appreciation for the woman’s generosity. She was prone to attending to the niceties.
Once the door closed behind him again, the Major General pushed to her feet, pacing to the window and back again. She wore a ferocious frown. “I can hardly credit it.”
“I assure you,” Ritsuko put in. “Everything Inspector Mikani has relayed is the truth.”
“I’m sure it comes as no surprise, but . . . the two of you have grievously overstepped your authority. Some might even name what you’ve done treason, actively working to topple the great Houses, particularly Skarsgard. And my own, of course.”
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