Bridge of Legends- The Complete Series

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  Jhinn frowned, handing it over reluctantly. “Gentle. No need to sink the boat on your first try, yeah? I could use a nap.”

  They changed places and Jhinn settled in a hole-ridden blanket in the prow of the boat while Tamerlan worked the oar in the back. It was hard not to give in to the waves of panic that rolled over him when he wasn’t talking about something else, but he tried to focus on the sun setting and throwing brilliant colors over the waves. He tried to focus on the rhythmic splish of water running off his oar as he skimmed it over the waves before dipping it back in the water to pull against the water. The work was good for him. Doing anything mindless was good, though anxiety ate at him from within like a thousand beetles chewing, chewing, chewing from inside his belly, consuming him one tiny bite at a time.

  He had to go back to his rooms. He hadn’t been able to get his hands on more orrisleaf and there was some in those packs he’d made for himself and his sister. Getting the packs would be a good idea, too.

  And Jhinn was right. He needed a plan beyond just grabbing her and running. If they left the five cities with Jhinn, no one would even know who they were. No one would have any reason to come looking for them. They were unimportant. Just two spare children of a Landhold family – not special in any way. They could even take up the life of the Waverunners, living boat to boat. It wouldn’t be so bad. Tamerlan liked stories. He could spend his life looking for one.

  His thoughts were jagged as he rowed, quick bursts of memories of reading stories to his little sister while he was supposed to be cleaning the stables. He’d look up from the story to see she’d done all the work while he read.

  But the memory was marred by the stab of worry ripping through him and reminding him of the chewing beetles. He wouldn’t ever read to her again unless he succeeded.

  He’d failed too often.

  If he were only someone other than Tamerlan the dreamer – if he were a soldier, or a true Landhold, or anyone with experience – maybe he would have saved her the first night. Maybe he wouldn’t have sunk to using the Bridge of Legends. Or, if he had, then maybe he would have been able to control the Legends instead of letting them control him.

  He clamped down on the thought. ‘What-if’s’ wouldn’t help. He was Tamerlan. He couldn’t be anything else. Tamerlan the hard-working apprentice. Tamerlan who lifted and moved heavy things and built muscle that way, but whose mind was always somewhere else dreaming of what could be and what had been many moons ago. He could use that if he was clever enough. He could use a fit body and a dreamy mind if he could just figure out how to put them to his advantage.

  He was coming up on the Alchemist’s District now. He hadn’t eaten all day and that was a good thing. The nausea gripping him would be worse with food inside.

  All he had to do was to sneak into The Copper Tincture and get the orrisleaf. Then he could smoke again and go save Amaryllis. He’d left the window to his room open. He could go that way. No need for anyone to see him come and go. It was a gamble, sure, but a gamble worth taking. If he was just careful. If he could just focus. If he could just find a way to steer everything right this time, then he would finally succeed and he and Ama and Jhinn would row off into a distant future of sea and stories. He could already smell the salt on the air as he tied the gondola to the jetty and shook Jhinn awake.

  “I’ll be back soon.”

  “I’ll be sleeping,” Jhinn muttered irritably.

  “Thank you for everything.”

  “Don’t get caught by the Watch.”

  And then he was slipping through the dusk shadows and toward The Copper Tincture, slipping between costumed groups of people as they carried baskets and pushed carts, laughing and pronouncing blessings on anyone in their path.

  “A candied plum, hooded one?” a woman with round cheeks and bright eyes dressed in a shabby Maid Chaos costume asked as he passed her. “It comes with a blessing!”

  “Another time, Maid Chaos,” he said politely, ducking around her and into the shadows again. The streets were packed with people and he stood out in his simple clothing. He should have thought to try to bring a costume. He dodged from shadow to shadow trying to avoid curious eyes and proffered gifts as politely as possible. He was breathing hard by the time he reached the dark alley beside the Copper Tincture.

  He shouldn’t do this. He should find the orrisleaf somewhere else.

  Just do it. Stop overthinking everything.

  Had that been Lila Cherrylock’ voice in his mind? He shook his head to try to clear it. He was imagining things – obviously. He hadn’t even smoked, so there was no way there could be a Legend in his mind. He wiped his sweating palms on his trousers and tried to forget the voice in his mind and concentrate on the job ahead. He’d need every ounce of focus to get this right and not get caught doing it – if anyone was watching. There was no guarantee of that. He stopped his spiraling thoughts before he changed his mind.

  Time to roll the dice.

  He climbed the stonework carefully, grateful to see that the window to his room was still open.

  Almost there.

  Almost there.

  His foot slipped, but he recovered, pushing hard with the other foot and flipping himself over the window ledge and into the dark room beyond.

  “Gotcha,” a melodious female voice said, and a hand gripped his arm in the darkness.

  24: For a Sister

  Marielle

  Marielle’s mouth was dry and her hands shook as she held her dagger to the neck of the man she’d caught.

  It had worked.

  It was him!

  His scent was so strong that she could almost taste it – warm honey, lemongrass, cardamom, and tarragon all mixing into a heady scent that threatened to sweep her away. Her vision was temporarily blinded by the burst of gold his presence brought with it, tinged with the turquoise and gold residue of old magic and the throbbing pulse of his orange and ginger desperation. Through it all, in a bronze tinge as different to the gold of her attraction as honey was to sunbeams, was a single thread of hope smelling like morning dew.

  Marielle gritted her teeth, fighting against the pull of his emotions. She didn’t dare to succumb to it. If she did, all would be lost.

  She shoved him against the wall instead, drawing her truncheon in a smooth motion and setting it against his neck as her dagger eased back. She pushed against the truncheon – not enough to choke him, but enough to pin him to the wall. She still couldn’t believe it was him. It had been such a long shot!

  “Tamerlan Zi’fen?” she asked. “You’re under arrest by the Jingen City Watch.”

  He moaned and the sound of his voice set every hair of her body on end as if she was a tuning fork and he’d sung her note.

  “Please,” the one word spilled from his lips like a pearl from a string. “Please don’t do this.”

  “Don’t stop you?” she hissed. “You are in violation of Jingen City Law 34 subsection V – no citizen shall attempt to enter through a locked door belonging to a private citizen, a guild, a government building, or foreign entity. Do you deny that you tried to break into the Seven Suns Palace?”

  “No,” he said. His voice was exactly as she’d expected – deep and husky. It thrilled her. It made her think of what sorts of things he might whisper to her in this dark room if they weren’t enemies and if she didn’t have him pressed against a wall with her truncheon.

  “You are also in violation of Jingen City Law 21, subsection II – no citizen shall steal guild property, Jingen City Law 34 – again! – Jingen City Law 9, subsection IV – no citizen shall threaten the life of another citizen with violent action, including but not limited to, choking, beating, containing, assault with edged weapons, assault with – ”

  He cut her off. “Could I just admit to you that yes, I stole the book at the Queen Mer Library and threatened Sian.”

  “You’re admitting this?”

  Righteous anger welled up in her. He admitted his crime. No matter what attract
ion existed, it was clear what came next. She would march him to the local Watch House and turn him into custody. She would testify to his crimes before the Lord Mythos. It would not be comfortable to condemn him to death, but the law was clear and easy to understand, and so was her role. She would take no pleasure in it, but she would carry it out. And she would watch him sink.

  “Could you light a candle?” he asked.

  “What?”

  He sounded so calm even though his emotions popped and blazed. That orange and ginger pulsing of his desperation was the strongest of all. She shouldn’t light the candle. He must be planning something behind all those emotions.

  “I can’t see your face,” he said gently.

  Why did he have to be gentle? She was threatening him with justice for his crimes! She had a truncheon to his neck! He shouldn’t be gentle. He should be raging and threatening or weeping. She’d seen both. She’d never seen gentle. She’d never smelled the azure and aspen scent that swirled around him when making an arrest.

  “What can a little light hurt?” he pressed.

  He had a point. But if she let up with the truncheon, he might escape. She put the tip of her long knife back to his throat, shifting her weight nervously.

  “Feel that point? I keep it sharp in accordance with strict regulation.”

  “I have no doubt.”

  Was he laughing at her? He seemed to find the comment funny.

  “If you want a candle, you’ll need to light one with the edge of this knife at your throat. It’s my insurance that you won’t escape.”

  “Sure, sure. Just let me walk to the washstand, please.”

  There had been a candle there. She remembered that now. And flint and Firestarter. She kept her knife pressed to his throat as he struck the flint, sparking the starter grass and cupping it carefully in his hands as he blew on the tiny flame, nursing it to life.

  The flickers of light send a glow over his face that highlighted his high-born good looks. He looked like the pictures of the Dragonblooded you saw in books or statues around Jingen. Like the warriors from the mountains of old, spilling down onto the plains to fight dragons.

  He lit the candle and then held it, looking at her with widening eyes.

  “Don’t think that just because I’m a woman you can take advantage of me,” Marielle said. “I am a servant of the law. I will give my life to uphold it.”

  “And you love good,” he said, his dreamy eyes seeming to see more of her than she planned to give. She pulled her scarf over her nose and mouth in defense. “In ancient times there were warriors of light and justice who were dedicated to doing good and honoring their god. They were called Paladins. Are you a paladin, Officer?”

  “Marielle Valenspear,” she said, letting the veil drop again.

  “I didn’t know that Watch Officers were so beautiful,” he said, his eyes running over her face and hair like he was trying to memorize them.

  Marielle stiffened. If he thought he could charm her with sweet words about paladins and comments on her looks, he could think again. She was no red-door woman ready to please a man for a price. She felt her cheeks heating. She shouldn’t have thought that. It was insulting to her mother.

  “Are you also compassionate?” he asked, licking his lips like he was nervous to ask the question. His lower lip was fuller than the upper lip – shaped in a way that made Marielle think of kissing.

  “We’re justice,” Marielle said. “The Hand of the Law.”

  “What would you say if I told you that tomorrow they are going to sacrifice a girl who doesn’t deserve to die. They’re going to spill her blood out for a dusty old ritual. They’re going to take all her smiles. They’re going to steal all her tears. They’re going to rob from the world all the ways that she would have made everything around her more beautiful.”

  “I know that,” Marielle said, and her tone might have been harsher than she wanted because ringing in her mind was the thought that she could stop it all if she was just willing to give up her own life instead. “That doesn’t change the law.

  Tamerlan smiled slightly at her – just one corner of his mouth lifting sadly. “Did you know that she’s my little sister?”

  The words hung in the air between them as he leaned in closer, ignoring her blade, his words quiet and gentle – almost delicate.

  “My first memory is of her tiny steps toddling after me. My first heartbreak was followed by her childish hug. I think sometimes that maybe she’s the only one who’s ever known me. And pretty soon there won’t be an Amaryllis anymore and I’m pretty sure that if that’s true, then there won’t be a Tamerlan either.” He glanced into the shadows, a haunted look flashing over his face so quickly that Marielle couldn’t have sworn she’d actually seen it at all. “Is that justice?”

  “It’s the law,” she said, but the words felt hollow, like for the first time in her life they didn’t matter like they used to. Because it wasn’t the Real Law. It was the thing that Captain Ironarm had warned her about. It was that moment when you realized that the City Law didn’t line up with the Real Law at all.

  “What is the law, Marielle?”

  “I read you the codes that you broke. Do you want to hear the section about the obtaining of sacrifices and implementation of the sacrifice system?” her voice grew fainter with every word.

  “I do not,” and now his voice had steel in it. “What I want to know is this – you serve truth and justice. You love the law because it lays out the right way of things like a straight line through a maze. You are devoted to it because it sets out a wall to defend the innocent and lays a trap for the guilty. But tell me this, Marielle, is this real justice? Who are you defending when you are complicit in stealing my sister’s life? Where is truth in the lie that she is worth less than anyone else in this city? Where is the justice in taking from her what isn’t yours to take? Tell me that Jingen City Law and subsection.”

  “I can’t let you break the law,” Marielle breathed, but she didn’t know anymore if she meant it. After all, who was she to say that her life was worth more than this Amaryllis? Was there anyone who would think their life had ended if she died? Lord Mythos had said he didn’t want to kill her. And Carnelian would miss the results she brought. Her mother – Variena – would probably cry. But when they gave her the redemption money for Marielle’s life, she would spend it. Variena was a survivor. “If I let anyone break it, then there is no law. And if there is no law, then no one is safe.”

  “Who is safe right now? Is Amaryllis safe? I’m not asking you to let me break the law,” Tamerlan said, clearly taking a deep breath to compose himself. He bit his lip, stretching it between his teeth as he thought about his words. A sheen of sweat had broken out across his brow and he ran his calloused hand through his short light-colored hair. He probably didn’t realize how that made his muscles bulge with the movement or how that drew her eyes.

  “Then what are you asking for,” she asked, a little breathlessly. The dagger point by his throat had dropped without her realizing it.

  “I’m just asking you not to stop me – not tonight. Just one more night, Marielle. Please?”

  His big eyes were liquid as he pled, like he was on the verge of tears, and the way his emotions bubbled and rolled like the sea in a storm, he could very well be.

  She shouldn’t say yes. She knew that much. Saying yes was a betrayal of everything she’d ever believed about what was right and wrong and what mattered. She was a servant of the law. She was made of law from core to cusp.

  And yet.

  And yet it was only her own selfishness that kept his sister in that tower at all. If she marched to the Sunset Tower tonight and demanded to be taken in Amaryllis’ place, they would take her, and it would be her life at stake. And no one, not a brother or a friend or anyone else, would bother to fight to keep her alive.

  She didn’t have the courage to give herself for a stranger. Not even a stranger with a beautiful, angst-ridden brother. She swallowed
the sick feeling of shame that filled her.

  Maybe Captain Ironarm was right. Maybe what you did in that moment between the Real Law and the City Law told you who you really were.

  She took a deep, shaking breath and lowered her knife, sliding it back in its sheath.

  Tamerlan danced back deftly, ducking out of her range and scooping up a pair of oiled-jute packs and jamming a mortar and pestle into the top of one of them. He paused for a moment, like he was considering something, and then with a nervous half-smile, he ducked in close, kissed her cheek and breathed a gasping, “Thank you.”

  He was across the room and leaping out the window before her breath steadied again. Gone before the gooseflesh erupting across her cheek and down her arm settled.

  She’d made a decision.

  And now she’d live with the consequences.

  25: Rampage

  Tamerlan

  Tamerlan huddled in the shadows of the canal, grinding the ingredients carefully. He was almost ready. This time, he had the lock picks and a knife in his belt. When Lila Cherrylocks – or even Byron Bronzebow – came for him, he’d be ready.

  There was a loud peal of laughter overhead from the street above and someone threw a coin over the railing into the canal. Jhinn reached out with careful precision and caught the coin inches from the water.

  “I think they threw it in for good luck,” Tamerlan said mildly.

  “Yeah. It’s my good luck now, boy.”

  Tamerlan chuckled quietly. “Okay. I’m going to go up to one of the braziers up there and smoke this stuff. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “Yeah. Sure. I’ll be here.”

  “You don’t have somewhere else you need to be?”

  “I’m paid up for the night!” Jhinn held up the coin he’d caught. “See? The waves are interested in your progress. If you grab the sister, you’ll be glad I’m nearby.”