Vessel of the Gods Boxed Set

by Jada Fisher

  Oh.

  She’d seen them a couple times, on visiting Baeldred travelers who were fairly higher class. It was a pretty, delicate thing, but instead of being made of silver—the stereotypical color of Baeldred—it was a strange kind of gold that wasn’t quite the right color.

  “Oh, rose gold,” Cassinda said, leaning over it. “The chains and stones are pretty too. It’d look great against your complexion, Ukrah.”

  The desert girl just blinked at it. “Why?”

  “It has something to do with the coloring of your skin and the color of the jewelry,” Crispin answered. “I heard a lot of the ladies at the manor talk about such things. You should get it.”

  Was he trying to just be extra dedicated to their disguise? “What use would I have for that?”

  “It’s not about uses, Ukrah. Just about having something nice. Come on, do you own anything outside of the clothes our mentors specifically gave us or your staff?”

  “I don’t…need anything. We all have everything we want at—” She caught herself from saying ‘the manor,’ afraid that she might reveal something to anyone eavesdropping. “—home,” she finished lamely.

  “Aw, come on, surely you’ve earned something nice.” She studied his face, trying to figure out why he seemed so invested. “Do you not think it’s pretty?”

  She looked at it again. It was definitely pretty, and if she looked at it hard, she would even say that she liked it. “I do. I just suppose that I’ve never thought about it.”

  “How have you never thought about it?”

  “I don’t know. Haven’t we had plenty of other pressing matters at hand lately?”

  “Well, yeah, but what about before?”

  “Before what?”

  “Before—” He gave her a knowing look and made a strange gesture. “—all this.”

  Oh, he meant before she had become a vessel. Before her life had completely turned itself inside-out.

  “Back then, I just wanted water, and maybe more food, and a larger tent perhaps. I missed my mom, and the other orphans who grew older and set out on their own rather than stay with the village.”

  “Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anybody who never wanted anything. No wonder you’re always so weird on our nameday celebrations.”

  “We’ve only had two, what do you mean always?”

  He just shrugged. “You should think about it, you know, things that you might like. Silly, simple, pretty things that have no purpose.”

  She nodded, but thankfully, it was Cassinda who saved her from his intense look. “You know what, seeing Ukrah eat that fruit has made me hungry. Let’s get something from a vendor, yes?”

  “Yeah, sure. What’s a holiday without a full belly?”

  They left without looking at anything else, and if the shopkeeper thought anything of that, they didn’t say. Soon, the trio was on the streets and helping themselves to some grilled meat on small, thin sticks. They were tasty, but Crispin finished his far before the other two and quickly excused himself to go relieve himself.

  “He likes you, you know,” Cassinda said as they finished theirs more slowly. The young man had really inhaled his. It was suddenly a lot more reasonable that he had managed to put on enough weight to look like he was fed on a more consistent basis.

  “I hope he likes me; we practically share parentage of my dragon.”

  Voirdr let out a little sound at that, having been seemingly distracted by all the hustle and bustle of the city.

  She had thought that maybe she wouldn’t have been able to bring him in, but thankfully, his reddish coloring didn’t scream black dragon. Sure, his paws were black, and his muzzle was too, while some of the other parts of his body were shifting into a pearlescent sort of in-between of scarlet and obsidian. Most people would assume he was just a small red dragon going through a difficult second molt, or at least that was the hope. Of those that knew that a black dragon had been reborn, they no doubt expected an actual black dragon. Not a…dappled one.

  “That’s not what I mean. Don’t play naïve.”

  “I’m not,” Ukrah said around her meat. “He’s my best and closest companion, no offense.”

  “By the spirits, and here I thought the two of you just liked being coy. He likes you.”

  Ukrah just gave her a puzzled look and before the girl could elaborate further, Voirdr began to whine for another meat-stick of his own.

  Well, Eist had given them plenty of coin—something she and Crispin were still adjusting to—so she went ahead and bought them all another one. Younger her would be so shocked at wearing such nice clothing and having a full belly every night.

  Crispin returned not too much later, adjusting his clothing, and sent them a bright smile. “It’s almost night. Should we head to the main quarter?”

  “Is this city even big enough for a main quarter?”

  “Down, Cassinda. Not everything needs to have bite to it.”

  “Says you.”

  Their banter continued, but Ukrah just ate her food while they walked, her mind on what Cassinda had said. Sometimes, it felt like she was trying to fit so much into her life at once that she was missing the finer details. Was she being particularly dull to not understand what the redhead was talking about?

  Perhaps, but that worry quickly faded from her mind as the sun began to sink and all the criers of the town began to come out and advertise their various enterprises.

  It didn’t take long to hear the one they were looking for, and yet they went about acting surprised and interested and arguing whether they could go or not. Maybe it was over the top, but it was in front of the crier himself so Ukrah felt like they couldn’t be too cautious.

  After all, they’d recognized Ain from the crowd and then knew enough to set a trap for him. That spoke to them paying far more attention than it seemed, and she didn’t want to give them any more clues than she had to.

  As far as she could tell, the crier didn’t think anything of them, continuing with his trying to get attendees for the show. It turned out not to be that far from them, tucked into a large tavern that looked pretty full.

  There weren’t any seats at tables left by the time the three of them entered, but they sidled up to the bar. Crispin asked for two ciders and an ale for him, clinking their glasses together like they were just excited vacationers.

  He really was good at the subterfuge, which made Ukrah wonder what he had experienced in his life before she had met him, but she wasn’t left with much time to wonder about it because the lanterns along the wall were being blown out and the makeshift curtain was drawn aside. Ukrah’s heart clenched in her chest, but that feeling quickly left when she realized that it wasn’t a pale singer taking to the small stage.

  It was…some jugglers?

  Not what she expected, but it made sense that a whole show wouldn’t be based on one person, and that they wouldn’t want her out right at the beginning. No, they would build up to her.

  Ukrah didn’t realize just how much they would be building up to her. There was a sword swallower after the juggler, and a fire dancer, and then a couple of other dancers. Ukrah didn’t know how they got so many performers, but she was fairly strung-out with anticipation by the time the ringleader of the little show came on and made some big to-do about the final act.

  Ukrah perked up. Although Ain was certain, Ukrah still wasn’t sure if it was an actual vessel they were about to see. After all, he could be wrong. They could have come all that way for nothing.

  Well, it wouldn’t be for nothing, if they were freeing a woman being held against her will, but it wouldn’t be the same.

  But then the remainder of the lanterns were extinguished, with little ones on poles gently flourishing to life above their heads. It was certainly a pretty effect, but then the curtains were drawn to the side and a figure was stepping forward.

  Ain had been right in his assessment. It was definitely a woman, one that didn’t look much older than Ukrah herself. She
had long, long white hair, whiter than even Elspeth’s, and her eyes basically glowed from within her face. Her features were all pleasantly arranged, full and round and pouty in a way that probably was meant to help her survive the cold but gave far more to her beauty.

  She was small, as short as Cassinda, and she was such a mismatch of extremes. She was slender on top, but with corded muscles clear along her shoulders and arms in the scant clothing she wore, but her bottom half was curvaceous enough to match a woman three times her size. She was barefoot, with far more jewelry than seemed necessary. Her pretty features were exaggerated by her makeup, and Ukrah found herself leaning forward before the music even started.

  But then the musicians began to play, and everything hit the desert girl at once.

  All the performer did was raise one hand and sidle forward in a motion that would have looked ridiculous in real life but looked graceful and alluring on stage. There was a sway to her body, a sort of coy movement that had the entire place growing quiet. Ukrah could feel magic pouring from the woman, sloshing all the way out to the walls before rushing right back in, coating everyone in her appeal.

  It took a great amount of effort to wrench her eyes away from the young woman to look at Cassinda and Crispin. Both seemed just as entranced as she had been, practically leaning off their stools in their interest.

  She fully intended to examine the rest of the room, to see who was affected by her and who wasn’t, but then the woman opened her mouth and she was caught up again.

  The first note was full of so much, beckoning them forward, to listen to her. There was a sort of melancholy to it, beseeching them to listen, asking for comfort. Ukrah wanted to reach out to the woman, to tell her it was alright, maybe invite her to a warm meal and make it so she never had to worry about anything again.

  But before Ukrah could get to her feet and rescue the girl right then and there, the song changed, sliding into a sort of…a plot? The desert girl found herself swaying back and forth, caught up in the plan of it all. The singer’s tone was a bit mischievous, speaking of things they shouldn’t do and trouble that they could get into. It became conspiratorial, something that bound her together. Something fun, and maybe…dangerous?

  She stepped off the stage, going into the crowd. Other women spread out behind her, holding baskets that they gestured for people to put money into.

  And boy, did they put money into them.

  The song didn’t last much longer than that. The girl did one straight walk to the end of the cleared path and back. But as she returned, her melodic voice slipping over them enticingly, Ukrah swore her eyes flicked to the three of them, their gazes locking.

  But then the moment was gone, the song was over, and the show was dismissing everyone, telling them they would be in place for three more days before they would depart to more travels.

  Three days. They had three days to observe and put together the best plan. Because if one thing was for certain, it was that their slave was absolutely a vessel.

  “Alright,” Crispin whispered breathlessly. “Let’s spread out and find out everything we can to fill in the gaps on our knowledge.”

  Ukrah nodded. An excellent plan.

  8

  Curtain Call

  They watched. They followed. And on the penultimate day, they decided that was when they would make their move.

  Originally, she thought they would wait until the third day, their final one, but they all decided together that was too expensive. And that, if they failed or something went wrong, the group would already be packed up and ready to go.

  So no, that wouldn’t do at all, and thus the second day was picked. Ukrah could feel the energy swirling within her when they entered the city again, this time in different outfits and a different arrangement.

  Cassinda and Athar were a father and daughter traveling together while Ethella waited on the edge of the city with Eist and Fior. Ukrah and Crispin were separate, dressed more like street urchins than the richer folk they had been before. Eist had explained that once, only a generation or so ago, it would have been unusual to see children of their complexion running around the streets, but as travel had increased, so had intermingling. Apparently, Ain’s own mother had remarried a prominent Margaidian merchant and had two beautiful, healthy babies together and they weren’t shunned from society.

  That had certainly been a surprise to Ukrah, who had been enslaved simply because of the color of her skin and her foreignness, but she guessed that some progress was better than none.

  Not many would think twice of her slinking into the show, no doubt guessing that she was either trying to pickpocket some marks, snitch some food or just enjoy a bit of revelry for herself. And that was if anyone noticed her. One of the benefits of being a scamp in a city was that most people were more than willing to overlook a hungry orphan.

  She hoped it was enough to keep people’s eyes off them. She hoped that they hadn’t all already been made by the sect members holding the vessel hostage. But even if they were, she knew there was no way that she would back down on trying to rescue the girl. Anytime she thought about how they held her captive, about how they used her magic to benefit themselves and fund their persecution of witches, her blood began to boil in her veins in a very particular way.

  “Hey, clear out of here!” a loud voice startled her, and she jumped, seeing the vendor from the meat stall she was idling by leaning over his elevated counter to yell at her. For a moment, her heart froze at the fact he was using Common with her—how did he know?—but then he said more in what she vaguely recognized as Margaidian, then more in something else.

  Okay, that was a mild relief. Ukrah knew that many people used the Margaidian coast for their holiday, so it made sense a vendor would know how to tell someone to bugger off in multiple tongues. If anything, it made sense for him not to pick just one to berate her in.

  Still, it was far too much attention, so she scurried off to try to act more naturally.

  It wasn’t the easiest. She wasn’t outright begging like Crispin was, but she did need to look like she was actively looking for food or coin. But she also didn’t want to annoy anyone enough to draw too much attention to herself.

  After all, there was always a bit of a risk that someone would recognize her by her coloring. She was somewhat similar to a more light-skinned Margaidian, but there was a difference to her eye shape and a bit of how her face sat over her features. Not enough for most people to care, but maybe enough for a sharp-eyed spy.

  And it was with that constant ball of anxiety that she spent the next few hours, stretching out her senses and trying to take in as much information as she could. When darkness started to fall and the criers came out, she was already borderline exhausted.

  She made her way toward the tavern, drifting as close as she could to folks without being noticed, hoping it made her look like she was picking marks. She wasn’t, of course, but they didn’t need to know that.

  Finally, she made it in, going against the wall and trying to blend in. It was easy enough to tuck herself in a dark corner, and soon the show was beginning.

  It was much the same as the previous time, with jugglers and the fire dancers and everything else. She paid careful attention to the announcer, making sure he wasn’t giving off hints of being distracted or anticipating an attack. But as far as she could tell, they had no idea that a group of riders from Rothaiche M’or were about to steal their big coin-maker.

  The rest of the lanterns went out once more and then she was striding out again.

  She was dressed in something different this time—a small, delicate outfit with golden chains and jewels all over her. Her feet were still bare, and Ukrah didn’t miss the slave’s cuff around her thick ankle.

  She was moving more than last time, her voice low and velvet. It called to Ukrah, wrapping around her and asking her to help, asking her to stride in and save the day. And boy, did the desert girl want to. Probably more than anything she had wanted in ages. />
  But she couldn’t. She had to stick to the plan. Tayir was right—she needed to stop rushing into things and just relying on her magic and uncanny luck.

  Besides, it was Crispin who really had all the luck.

  The music slowed to a nearly impossible crawl and the woman sank into dance movements that Ukrah didn’t think she had ever seen before. She was on her knees, moving her hands and arms, her spine bent so far backwards that she was practically folded in two.

  The magic was so thick around her, filing her lungs and swirling around her mind. She found herself licking her lips, strange desires rising inside of her. Suddenly, she wanted a meal full of pheasants and potatoes, and a warm bath. Maybe also someone to brush her hair and tell her that she’d done good. She wouldn’t mind being in a soft, comfortable bed and having Voirdr curled up beside her, all—

  Ukrah shook her head, drawing herself out of the relaxing pull she had been so caught up in. She blinked and looked across the room to see that the young woman was no longer on the stage, instead having walked to the very edge of the audience. She was staring right at the desert girl.

  Ukrah met the singer’s gray gaze and saw so much in her stare. She had no doubt that the vessel absolutely knew who she was and why she was there. The desert girl just hoped that she didn’t give anything away.

  But then she blinked and started singing again, making her way back to the stage with a sway to her wide hips.

  It was hard to watch her get back on stage and for the curtains to close, but Ukrah had to. And it was in the fervid cheering and movement that came from the final applause that she slipped toward the back.

  She had to play her cards carefully. Too quickly, and someone was sure to catch her and know she was up to no good. But if she was too slow, she would clearly be suspicious, and someone would spot her who she didn’t want to.

  Chewing her lips, she waited for her moment then finally ducked in after a couple of the tip girls and made her way to the back-storage room.

  It was due to their days of watching that they knew the girl’s exit. Well, for the most part. She always had at least two guards with her, and while Ukrah didn’t know exactly what happened between the stage and the storage room, she did know that they would lead the girl there, bundle her all up, then haul her to an innocuous-looking building that she guessed was another sect hideout.