Holland glanced up at me. “I don’t think we need to worry about them. Do you?”
“No,” I said, meeting her eyes. There was an exchange to be made here. I just wasn’t sure what it was.
She handed the harbor master the parchments dismissively and he gave a nod before he turned on his heel and headed back toward the doors.
I watched him leave, gritting my teeth. If the harbor master was in Holland’s pocket, then nothing happened down on those docks without her knowing.
“Now,” she said, folding her hands on the table as she looked back to Clove. “I trust you can get back to the Narrows.”
“Sounds like you just told him to sink the ship I came in on,” Clove said, annoyed.
“Then I’ll take care of it. But I have one more thing I need you to do.”
“I brought in the bounty.” He gestured to the silver box. “And you’ve already paid.”
“I’m willing to double it,” she said.
Clove’s eyes narrowed, suspicious. “I’m listening.”
She picked up a berry, holding it before her. “Saint.”
The sound of my heart pounded in my ears, my fingers gripping the handle of the cup tightly.
Clove leaned both elbows onto the table. “What do you want with Saint?”
“The same thing I wanted from Zola. Restitution. My daughter died on his ship and he’ll be held responsible. He’s expected at the Trade Council meeting in Sagsay Holm. I want you to make sure he doesn’t make it.”
Clove stared at the table, thinking. I could almost hear his mind turning, formulating. Trying to weave together some kind of plan that would get us all out of this mess. When I opened my mouth to speak, he silenced me with the slightest shake of his head.
It dawned on me then that Saint’s involvement in the bounty wasn’t the only thing Clove had kept secret. He’d also kept hidden the fact that Saint was my father.
“Do you want the job or not?” Holland pressed.
I held my breath. If he turned it down, she’d commission someone else.
Clove’s eyes met hers. “I want the job.”
I set my hands into my lap, my fingers twisting into the skirts. Holland had found a way to reach across the sea, into the Narrows, and draw Zola out. Now she wanted Saint.
“Good.” She popped the berry into her mouth, chewing. “And that brings me to you.” She looked to West.
He leveled his gaze at her, waiting.
“Once Saint is out of the way, there will be an entire trade route left behind. If anyone knows Saint’s operation, it’s the helmsman of his shadow ship.”
And there it was—the other part of her plan. Holland didn’t just want revenge. This was also business.
“I’m not interested,” West said flatly.
“You will be,” Holland said, staring back at him. “Someone like me could always use the talents of someone like you. I’ll make it worth your time.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, watching West carefully. His stoic expression hid whatever he was thinking.
“If what I’ve heard about you is true, then it’s nothing you can’t handle.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” he said.
“Oh, I think I do.” She smiled. An uncomfortable silence filled the space between the four of us before her eyes fell on me again. She stood, folding her napkin neatly and setting it onto the table. “Now, Fable. There’s something I want to show you.”
SEVENTEEN
The doors to Azimuth House opened to the blinding light of late morning. Holland stood at the top of the steps, a shimmering silhouette. She was ethereal, her long silver hair spilling down the gold embroidered cloak that floated out behind her as she made her way to the street.
West hesitated on the top step, watching her. His coat was unbuttoned, the collar of his white shirt open, and the wind blew his unruly hair from where it had been combed the night before.
“I don’t like this,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“Me either,” Clove muttered behind me.
West’s eyes flicked up to the harbor in the distance. But from here, it was impossible to make out the ships. By now, the crew of the Marigold would be worried, and if the harbor master was in Holland’s pocket, he’d be watching them closely. I could only hope that they would lay low and wait it out like West had ordered.
Holland looked between the three of us with a question in her eyes that made me uncomfortable. We weren’t in the Narrows anymore, but the same rules applied. The less she knew about who West and Clove were to me, the better.
We followed her down the staircase to the street. It seemed the whole city was already doing business. I didn’t miss the way people looked up as Holland passed, and neither did West. He watched around us, glancing up to windows and down alleys as we walked, and his silence was making me more nervous by the minute.
Clove hadn’t told me what West had done for my father in detail, but he’d said enough to make me worry about what West was capable of. What he’d be willing to do if he thought Holland was dangerous, and what it would cost him.
Not even a day ago, I’d been afraid I might never see him again. The sinking feeling returned, dropping down the center of my chest, and I moved closer to him. His hand drifted toward mine but he didn’t take it, his fingers curling into a fist. As if at any moment, he would take hold of me and start for the harbor.
There was a part of me that wished he would. But there was a shift in power happening in the Narrows. Zola was gone, and Holland’s sights were set on Saint. Blood aside, that didn’t bode well for the Marigold. If we were going to get ahead of this, we needed to know what was coming.
The coin in Clove’s chest rattled as he walked beside me. He hadn’t taken Holland’s offer to stow the coin in her study, and now he was drawing the eye of nearly everyone on the street as we made our way to the farthest pier on the south side of Bastian. Holland’s crest was painted on its brick, with private slips stretching far enough from shore that each could easily dock three ships. It wasn’t like any I’d ever seen in the Narrows. It looked more like a small port than a shipping pier.
The men standing at the doors pulled them open as we reached the entrance. Holland didn’t slow, walking down the center aisle where countless stalls filled the floor. The rectangular workspaces were sectioned off with polished wood beams, each worker clad in an apron that had Holland’s crest burned into the leather.
These weren’t the kinds of workers that filled Ceros. They wore clean white shirts, their hair combed or braided, and were freshly bathed. Holland liked her post the way she liked her home. Tidy. And the way they didn’t meet her eyes as she passed gave away their fear of her.
My gaze flitted over the people in the stalls as we passed. Some of them looked to be gem merchants cleaning stones, chipping away at the outer rock on crude rubies or tumbling the smaller, broken pieces of sapphires. I slowed when I spotted a man cutting a yellow diamond. He worked with quick movements, making the splice in the stone by muscle memory more than sight. Once he was finished, he set it aside and started on another.
“This is everything I’ve built over the last forty years.” Holland’s voice sounded behind me. “Everything Isolde left behind.”
The question was why. It was the same one I’d been asking myself since the moment the Luna drifted into port.
Bastian was beautiful. If there were slums, I had yet to see any. It was well known that there were more than enough jobs, and many people left the Narrows for apprenticeships and opportunities here. What had taken Isolde from the Unnamed Sea?
I looked back at West. He stood in the center of the aisle, his eyes moving over the huge pier.
“We shouldn’t be here,” he said suddenly. He ran a hand through his hair, raking it back from his face in a familiar movement that told me he was on edge. It wasn’t just Holland. Something else was bothering him.
The aisle opened to a long corridor, and Holland didn’t
wait for us, walking with paced steps toward three men who stood before a doorway draped with thick velvet. Holland pulled the gloves from her hands and unbuttoned her cloak as she went inside. When Clove sank down into the leather chair beside the door, she glared at him.
The dark room illuminated as one of the men struck a long match and lit the candles along the walls. The space looked like a polished, more luxurious version of Saint’s post in The Pinch. Maps hung over the walls, red ink marking the edges of the land, and I resisted the urge to reach up and follow the trail of them with my fingers. They were diving maps.
“You’re a dredger,” Holland said, watching me study them. “Like your mother was.”
“I am.”
She half-laughed, shaking her head. “That’s not the only thing I didn’t understand about that girl.” Her voice quieted. “She was always restless. I don’t think there was anything in this world that could calm the sea inside of her.”
But I knew that wasn’t true. The Isolde I’d known had been steady, made of deep waters. Maybe Holland was telling the truth about her, but that was before Saint. That was before me.
I read the spines on the books that lined the shelves until my eyes landed on a glass case behind the desk. It was empty. A small satin cushion sat inside, behind an engraved plaque I couldn’t read.
Holland looked pleased with my interest. “Midnight,” she said, following my gaze to the case. She set one hand on top of it, tapping a ring against the glass.
I tipped my head to one side, eyeing her. Midnight was a stone that only existed in legend. And if she had one, she would have had it on display at the gala.
“She didn’t tell you that either?” Holland smirked.
“Tell me what?”
“The night Isolde disappeared, so did the midnight that was in this case.”
I crossed my arms, scowling. “My mother wasn’t a thief.”
“I never took her for one.” Holland sat in the plush chair, setting a hand on each arm. “Have you ever seen it? Midnight?”
She knew the answer. No one had. The little I knew about the stone was what I’d heard in the stories of superstitious deckhands and merchants.
“It’s quite a peculiar gem. An opaque black with violet inclusions,” she said. “It was discovered on a dive in Yuri’s Constellation.”
I knew the name from maps of the Unnamed Sea. It was a cluster of reefs.
“Isolde is the one who found it.”
My hands fell to my sides from where they were tucked into my elbows. Beside me, West was studying my face, looking for any evidence of its truth.
“That’s a lie. She would have told me.” My eyes went to Clove, who was being careful to stay inconspicuous. When he finally caught my eyes, his head tipped to one side.
It was true.
“Are you sure about that?” Holland pressed, “Every merchant worth their salt and both Trade Councils attended the unveiling at Azimuth House and every one of them would tell you it’s not myth.” Holland lifted her chin. “It would have changed everything. Taken the trade by storm. But a few days later, Isolde was gone. So was the midnight.”
I stared at her, unsure of what to say. There was accusation in her voice. Suspicion.
“I don’t know anything about midnight,” I answered.
“Hmm.” Holland pursed her lips.
I couldn’t tell if she believed me, but I wasn’t lying. I’d never once heard my mother mention it.
A knock at the door broke the silence between us and Holland’s tension unraveled. “Come in.”
The door opened and on the other side, a young man not much older than I stood waiting with a roll of leather-bound parchments tucked under his arm.
“You’re late,” Holland said scornfully. “Did anyone see you?”
“No.” His icy stare settled on her as he came in. I hadn’t seen anyone so much as look at Holland in the eye, but he did. Without reservation.
He stopped before her desk, waiting with the parchments in his scarred hands. They were the scars of a silversmith, striping over his knuckles and wrapping around his palms. I followed them up his arms, where they disappeared beneath his rolled sleeves.
There, just below his elbow, a black tattoo was inked into the skin of his forearm. The twisted shape of two entangled snakes, each eating the other’s tail.
I took a step forward, studying the shape of it. It was the exact same tattoo that Auster had. In the same exact place.
West’s eyes dragged over the man quietly. He noticed it too.
I had never asked Auster about the mark. It wasn’t unusual for traders to have tattoos. But if he was from Bastian, it couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Show me,” Holland muttered.
He tipped his head toward me and West. “I don’t know them.”
“That’s right. You don’t,” Holland said, coldly. “Now show me.”
He hesitated before he untied the leather strap around the parchments, unrolling them carefully across the desk. The page opened to a drawing penned in thin black ink in the style of a ship diagram. But it wasn’t a ship. I took a step closer, eyeing the parchment.
It was a teapot.
Holland leaned forward, studying the rendering carefully. “You’re sure you can do this kind of work?” Her finger moved over the written dimensions.
But there was no way anyone could. I had never seen anything like it. The pot was set inside a silver chamber with geometric cutouts, the design set with several different faceted gemstones. The margin listed them in alphabetical order: amber, fluorite, jade, onyx, topaz. It looked as if the chamber would spin, creating a myriad of color patterns.
“If you don’t think I can do it, get one of your apprentices to.”
I liked the way he glared at her, unyielding. So did Clove. He watched the young man with a wry grin.
“If I had anyone skilled enough to make it, I wouldn’t have commissioned you, Ezra.” Her voice lowered. “Henrik says you can do it. If he’s wrong, he’ll be paying me for the mistake.”
Ezra closed the parchments, knotting the leather ties. “We done?”
My attention drifted to the tattoo again, and when I looked up, Ezra was watching me, his eyes glancing down to the mark.
Holland tapped a finger on the desk methodically. “You have ten days. I need it in hand before the Trade Council meeting in Sagsay Holm.”
I stiffened, remembering what she said that morning. That was also her deadline for dealing with Saint.
Ezra answered with a nod. He met my eyes one more time before he turned, pushing through the door and disappearing back into the corridor.
“What is it?” I asked, watching the door close.
“A gift.” She set her hands back onto the desk. “For the Trade Councils of the Narrows and the Unnamed Sea.”
The tea set had to be worth a ton of coin. If it was a gift, she was getting ready to make a request of the Trade Councils. One that required persuasion. But I still couldn’t figure it out. She’d dealt with Zola, leaving only Saint to contend with in Ceros. But she didn’t even trade there. I’d never seen a ship with her crest at a single port. After seeing her operation, it didn’t make sense that her route excluded the Narrows. She was known far beyond the Unnamed Sea, her power and wealth legendary. So, why didn’t she trade in Ceros?
The only explanation was that for one reason or another, Holland couldn’t sail the Narrows.
“You don’t have license to trade in the Narrows, do you?” I said, putting it together.
She looked impressed. “The Trade Council in the Narrows thinks that if I’m allowed to open my route to Ceros, it will sink the Narrows-born traders.”
And it would.
“I built this empire with my own two hands, Fable,” she said. “I had nothing when I started, and now I’ll leave the Unnamed Sea with the most powerful gem trade anyone has ever seen.”
I could see in her eyes that this was what she’d wanted me to witness. The
success. The power.
“There’s only one problem. This empire has no heir.”
West went still beside me, the tension rolling off him in the deafening silence. Clove, too, watched me. But my attention was on Holland. My eyes narrowed, my lips parting as I tried to peel back the words. “You don’t even know me.”
She gave me an approving smile. “I want to change that.”
“I don’t need an empire. I have a life and a crew. In the Narrows.” The words stung as I spoke them. I was so desperate to get back to the Marigold that I could feel the tears threatening to rise.
“The offer isn’t just for you.” She looked to West. “I’d like you to consider coming onto my fleet.”
“No.” West spoke his answer so quickly that Holland had barely finished when he opened his mouth.
“You’re not even going to hear me out?”
“No, I’m not,” he said, unblinking.
She didn’t look amused anymore. She looked angry. I took an involuntary step closer to West and she noticed, looking between the two of us. I’d given too much away.
“I’d like you to take an evening to think about my offer. If you still don’t want it by the time the sun rises, you’re free to go.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, watching the sharp spark of light in her eye. In only a night I’d learned more about my mother than I had in my entire life. Saint wasn’t the only one with secrets, and I couldn’t help but feel betrayed.
If Holland was telling the truth about Isolde, then she was a thief. A liar. She’d never told me about my grandmother in the Unnamed Sea or the single most important gem discovery she was responsible for. But there were some things about my mother I knew were true. Things I trusted. If she destroyed the only chance Holland had at pushing into the Narrows, she had a reason.
And there was more going on here than Holland was showing us. Taking out Zola and Saint wasn’t just revenge. It was strategy. They were the two most powerful traders, both posted from Ceros. She was clearing the playing field before she made her move with the Council.
Saint wasn’t the only one working a long game.
Namesake Page 11