The guard had his sword in his other hand, and he thrust it at her. Abbey easily deflected the blow; then she struck at him with her own attack. He managed to block it, but his eyes widened in surprise at the strength behind her strike.
Abbey attacked again, and her opponent once again blocked, taking a step backward. She was driving him toward the front of the shop.
Behind him, the other guards were stepping forward, starting to come to his aid.
Benjamin twisted his hands in a quick but complicated pattern, and his eyes suddenly turned black. He raised both palms and pushed them forward as if shoving someone. All five standing guards were lifted off their feet and flew backward through the air. They all landed prone on the ground.
“Abbey, run,” Benjamin ordered.
She blinked hard in surprise. “What? No. We can take these guys.”
“And then what? They’ll just send more.”
Abbey couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What was he going to do? Just give up and go with them?
“Go to our friend. The collector. He’ll know what to do.”
She knew who he meant. “What about you?”
“I’ll go with them. It’s the only chance of clearing my name.”
Abbey looked at the guards. They were getting to their feet now.
The head guard glared at Benjamin. “Damned Arcadian magic.”
As much as she hated it, Abbey knew her father was right. They could defeat these guards, but probably not without killing at least a few of them. And then their lives in Holdgate would be over. It wouldn’t matter whether or not they were guilty of killing the Magistrate’s son.
Her father stared at her, his eyes pleading. “Abbey, go.”
She nodded briskly, her eyes filling with tears. She had to do this, as painful as it was. The last thing she saw before she reached the door was the black leaving her father’s eyes as he raised his hands in surrender.
Then, she went through the door and ran into the night.
7
Dustin awoke to a loud knocking on his door. He groggily got out of bed and walked across the room while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It wasn’t a long journey. He would be moving to quarters more befitting his station as a Storm Caller in the coming days, but for now, he was still in the one-room apartment of an apprentice.
He opened the door and saw his new captain, Roy, standing there, wearing his usual goofy smile.
“Morning,” the captain said. “You weren’t still asleep, were you? The sun’s already up.”
“It was a late night. Please, come in.” He stepped aside to let Roy through.
The relationship between a Storm Caller and his captain was a complicated one. Technically, they were equals. Both had the power to vote for Magistrate, and neither had the power to remove the other from their position. Yet, the captain was the one in charge of the crew and the one who made the day-to-day decisions. As much as Dustin was skeptical of Roy as a Storm Captain, the man did have nearly two decades’ experience on stormships—almost half of that as a captain. No, he wasn’t Tor, but Dustin was determined to learn what he could from this man.
Roy made his way to the table in the corner and sat down. He motioned to Dustin to take the chair across from him. “Big happenings last night. You hear?”
Dustin shook his head as he sat down across from the captain. He’d left the festival in the wee hours of the morning after a rather indulgent night of celebrating with friends. He was feeling the effects of that celebration this morning. His head pounded, and he wished he’d thought to draw the curtains before going to bed the previous night.
He hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary when he’d left the festival. There were a lot of drunk Holdgatesmen, but there was nothing unusual about that. “What happened?”
Roy leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone. “Bronson was murdered.”
Dustin couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. The Magistrate’s son was a few years older than him, but Dustin knew him a little. He wasn’t an overly ambitious man; he seemed to be comfortable living off his father’s status. Yet, he was the life of every party he attended, and he was well liked for his good nature and friendly attitude. “Did it happen at the festival?”
Roy shook his head. “It was in his home. Someone climbed through a window and took a sword to him.”
Dustin let out a soft whistle. It might have made sense if it had happened at the festival. Tempers sometimes flared when the mead was flowing like it had been last night. But in his home? Who would want to murder Bronson? A jealous husband, perhaps? The man was known for his charms with the ladies.
“Get this,” Roy said. “They’re saying the Arcadian blacksmith did it.”
Dustin’s eyes widened in surprise. “Benjamin?”
“You know another Arcadian blacksmith? They’re looking for his daughter, too. I guess she ran off when the city guard tried to question her.”
“Damn.” Dustin had practically grown up in that blacksmith shop. He couldn’t imagine Benjamin doing such a thing. And poor Abbey. He knew there was no way she could have had anything to do with this.
Roy cleared his throat. “I didn’t come here solely to spread gossip. We received our orders.”
Dustin sat up straighter, thoughts of Abbey pushed from his mind. “Where are we going?”
“There’s intelligence that some Barskall ships broke through the storms and landed up near Bode. You know it?”
Dustin nodded. He’d memorized every town on the Kaldfell coast as part of his apprenticeship.
“It’s rumored to be a sizable force,” Roy said. “That many Barskall on Kaldfell… we’re not taking any chances with a situation like that.”
Dustin waited, willing himself not to speak. Was Roy about to say what he thought he was going to say?
“We’re sending Thunderclap, of course. As well as a couple of others. Probably Summer Wind and High Tide.”
Those two ships often traveled with Thunderclap, Dustin knew.
“Tor figures the three of them to be enough, but the rest of us… well, like I said, we don’t want to take any chances. Better to have too many than too few.” Roy scratched at his chin. “I knew you wanted to try your hand in a real fight, so I threw our hat in the ring.”
Dustin wanted to leap up and hug the man. He’d assumed The Foggy Day would spend the next few months cruising the same fishing routes he’d been traveling his entire apprenticeship. But to learn they’d not only be going into a fight, but that they’d be doing it alongside Tor…
He’d be Storm Calling next to Dahlia!
Roy’s smile was even wider than usual. “You sure you’re ready for this?”
Dustin didn’t hesitate with his reply. “I’m ready.”
“Good. Then I thought we might spend the day down at the ship. You can meet the crew, and I can give you the grand tour.”
“Absolutely.” Dustin started to stand, then an image popped into his mind: Abbey under the docks, her eyes black, as she pulled him from the ocean.
He’d never even thanked her. Not really.
She’d rescued him in his time of need. Now, she needed help. Who was going to rescue her? He knew the answer to that question. She was an outsider. An Arcadian. No one would lift a finger for her sake.
He looked at the captain. “Actually, do you mind if I meet you there in an hour or so? I just need to take care of an errand before we head out tomorrow.”
Roy looked surprised, but he didn’t object. “Of course. Take care of whatever business you have. Because, after we ship out tomorrow, there’s no telling when we’ll be back home.”
The sun was already up by the time Abbey made it to the edge of town.
She’d had to go slowly and carefully, working her way through alleys and backstreets, peeking around corners, always watching for the city guard. For all she knew, they might not even be coming after her. Maybe capturing her father had been enough for them. But Benjamin had sacr
ificed his own freedom to allow her to escape, and she had to make sure his sacrifice was not in vain. She had to proceed as if every guard in the city was looking for her.
She still shook with rage at having to leave her father behind. The two of them could have fought those guards off and escaped together. He was right; they would have had to leave Holdgate. But would that have been so bad? The city had never really accepted them.
Maybe starting over somewhere new wouldn’t be such a bad thing. They could go back to Arcadia. Or the Lost Isles. Or any of a thousand other places. The Holdgate stormships patrolled the Kaldfell peninsula, but if she and her father headed south, into the Heights beyond Arcadia even, they’d be safe from Holdgatesmen.
But her father had made the choice to surrender, and she had to respect that. Now, she had her own choice to make. She could either run south and save herself, or try to save him. She didn’t give that choice more than a moment’s thought. She wouldn’t let this injustice stand. She was going to set this right.
If her father’s sword had really been found at the scene of the murder, that meant someone was trying to frame him. But who? And why? She didn’t know, but she wasn’t going to rest until she found out.
Her first step was to do as her father had instructed. He’d told her to go see their friend. The collector.
The collector was her father’s nickname for Jarvi, a man who lived in the woods east of the city. He was their best customer. They called him the collector because of his constant desire for Arcadian-made items that he didn’t really need. He had no love for the Holdgate government, and his home was deep enough in the woods that she should be safe there while she figured out her next step.
She reached the city wall and paused, waiting in the early morning shadows as she formulated the best approach. The western side of Holdgate, the seaward side, was closely protected with guards watching the walls and Storm Callers nearby to bring the ocean itself to their defense if an enemy ship approached.
The east side of the city was more lightly guarded. Many Holdgatesmen made their living in the dense forest east of the city wall, hunting and trapping game large and small. It seemed impossible to imagine an enemy army somehow making it through the mountains to the east of them and attacking through the forest.
The guard would be light, but there would be guards.
She waited in the shadows until a group of four men walked by. They all carried axes, so they were clearly forest-bound, headed out into the woods to begin their day’s work. It was still early, but workers in Kaldfell had to take advantage of the long days of summer to combat the short days of winter. Abbey slipped in behind the four men, close enough that she’d appear to be part of their group but not close enough that they would wonder what she was doing. She hoped if she held her sword at her side, the guards wouldn’t notice it, or if they did, maybe they’d mistake it for an ax.
As they rounded the corner and came into view of the gate, Abbey peered around the men. What she saw caused her to mutter a curse. Four guards stood at the gate—double the usual number. They were carefully inspecting the faces of everyone who passed by, and they seemed to be paying special attention to the women.
Damn it; they’re looking for me, she thought.
Still, she had to take her chances. There was no way into the woods other than through this gate.
She pushed closer to the four men, and one furthest back gave her an odd look. He was a tall, thin man, the youngest of the group. She gave him a smile she intended to be sexy, but from the look he gave her, it probably came off as goofy.
No matter, they were at the gate now. She pushed forward as the men stepped toward the opening in the wall.
One of the guards looked at her, and his eyes narrowed. He elbowed the guard next to him and nodded toward Abbey.
So much for the subtle approach. All she needed to do was buy herself a moment.
She stuck out her foot, hooking it around the foot of the tall, gangly man in front of her. Then she put a hand on his back and pushed.
The man stumbled forward, crashing into the two guards who had been looking at Abbey.
“Hey, watch your sea-cursed step, boy!” one of the guards shouted.
The other three men stopped and turned toward the guards. The biggest one, who stood a head taller than any of the guards, glared at them. “Who you calling boy?”
Abbey knew this was her chance. She slipped around the woodsmen and walked through the gate.
Another one of the woodsmen chimed in. “We break our backs cutting wood all day so you can sit on your fat asses watching this gate, and all we ever get from you is disrespect.”
The guard closest to Abbey threw his hands into the air in frustration. “He ran right into us!”
The gangly man just looked confused. “Somebody pushed me.”
Abbey looked back toward the city, and she paused, surprised at the familiar face she saw staring back at her. It was Dustin. He was waving her over.
There wasn’t time for her to talk to him now. Besides, he was probably helping the city guards track her down. She stepped quickly into the gap between the woodsmen.
Both the guards and the woodsmen turned toward the spot where Abbey had been standing moments before. Then one of the guards spotted her. “It’s the Arcadian girl. Grab her!”
“I think you gentlemen are confused,” Abbey called over her shoulder. “I better be going. Keep up the great work!”
With that, she sprinted into the forest, not waiting to see if they would follow. The last thing she heard was Dustin’s voice cutting through the shouts as he called to her. “Run, Abbey! Run and don’t look back.”
8
Abbey made her way through the woods and down the narrow trail toward Jarvi’s home. She heard the guards chasing after her at first—it was impossible not to hear them with the way they crashed through the undergrowth like a pack of wild boar—but she quickly lost them. The path she was on was difficult to follow. If she hadn’t accompanied her father a hundred times to drop off deliveries for Jarvi, she might have lost it, too.
Once she was certain she had lost the guards, Abbey slowed her pace to a brisk walk.
It took her just over an hour to reach Jarvi’s. Although the man lived relatively close to town, he guarded his privacy by tending to the forest’s natural growth near his home. The only access point was a break in the thorn bushes, cut at a zig-zagging angle so it couldn’t be seen by those passing from either direction. Many trappers and woodcutters passed those thorn bushes every day for years, never knowing Jarvi’s home existed.
Abbey ducked through the gap in the bushes, careful not to catch her clothes on the thorns that protruded well into the path. Normally when walking through this gap, she cursed Jarvi for the inconvenience his paranoia caused her. Not today. The fact that so few knew he lived here was what was going to keep her alive.
After passing through the gap, she exited into a clearing where she could see Jarvi’s house through the trees. It was a log cabin, much larger than most homes in the city. The man’s eye for detail was clear in the way the plants near his home were carefully tended. It was strange seeing this idyllic log cabin hidden away amongst the brambles. Abbey never got used to it no matter how many times she saw it.
She walked to the door and raised her hand to knock, then paused. Jarvi was incredibly paranoid. What would he think of her showing up unannounced, sword in hand?
It was too late to worry about that now. She knocked, then took a step back, holding her sword at her side in a neutral, unthreatening position, keeping it in the open so it didn’t appear that she was trying to hide anything.
She heard footsteps inside, and then the door flew open.
Jarvi glared out at her. He held a long metal rod with a blue ember on the end of it. She’d never seen it before, but from the way he held it, she knew it was a weapon. He blinked hard when he saw her as if she was the last person he expected to find standing here so early in the mor
ning.
“Abbey? What the hell are you doing here?” He looked around behind her. “Where’s your father?” Suddenly, his face brightened. “Hey, did he get an amphorald? Is that why you’re here?”
She shook her head. “No. This is something else. Can I come inside?”
A concerned look crossed Jarvi’s face, but he quickly nodded and waved her inside.
She followed him through the entryway, which was lit by a magitech light. As they walked through the home, she noticed other pieces of her father’s work on display. A flickering flame that gave off no smoke sat in the fireplace. She noticed a device that flashed with light when anyone but the owner came within a hundred yards. That must have been how Jarvi had known she was at the door so quickly, she realized.
Jarvi was a short, thick man whose muscular frame belied his bookish nature. His hair was white, but he still had all of it.
He was fascinated by all things magical, and despite living his reclusive lifestyle away from the city, he somehow always seemed to have more information than anyone else on the goings-on in distant places like Arcadia and Roneland. Her father had told her Jarvi had made his fortune by establishing new trade routes shortly after the Mad Days. He’d long since stopped actively traveling and trading, but he kept in contact with many of the people he’d worked with. Benjamin said he’d seen people from a wide variety of regions coming and going at the older man’s home over the years.
But the one thing that fascinated Jarvi more than anything else was magic. He was constantly working his connections for amphoralds, the gems required for the crafting of magical devices—magitech to those in the know. When he got his hands on a gem, he gave it to Benjamin and paid him an extravagant amount to make him new and unique creations.
Jarvi led Abbey to the large sitting room and offered her a chair. When they were both seated, he looked at her pointedly. “Tell me what happened.”
Welcome To The Age of Magic Page 28