Bridge of Legends- The Complete Series

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  She entered the room where Etienne and his guests were already arranged around the table where water was poured. Nothing else was allowed during Dawnwait. None of them were sitting, but they watched the serving girl and innkeeper like hawks until the two of them left. Marielle closed the door behind them and stood in front of it, playing the guard she’d promised to be.

  “Who are you,” the woman demanded the moment the door was shut.

  “Etienne Valenspear, formerly the Lord Mythos of Jingen.”

  “The city that was burned three nights ago.”

  “The very same,” he said, barely twitching at her words.

  “And now you are here to welcome us to Xin – but you are not of Xin and have no authority here.” She tilted her head to the side. Careful. Considering.

  “You didn’t seem to be receiving a better welcome,” Etienne said. “And it occurs to me that we can work together. Please, sit and let us talk.”

  “We do not require your help.” The woman’s voice was terse.

  No one had moved. No one had sat. And yet, Marielle felt the eyes of the man with the conch shell flicking over to her from time to time. He was curious about her. She could smell his interest, bright and fresh as cut citrus. It burst through the mistrust in the room in little marigold puffs.

  “Then why are you in Xin?” Etienne asked. “Why send an advance team if you don’t wish to talk – or to do something to prepare for the arrival of your people on the ships?”

  There was a hiss of indrawn breath. “How did you know we came from the ships?”

  Etienne raised a single eyebrow. “You don’t rule a city of the Dragonblood Plains by ignorance and blindness.”

  “You aren’t a ruler anymore.” There was acid in her words. No wonder she hadn’t found a warm reception here.

  If she meant to insult him, it wasn’t working. His smile remained steady, but it was Marielle who spoke up.

  “You are the people of Queen Mer, aren’t you? Like the Waverunners?”

  The woman spat and around her, the men cursed quietly.

  “The forsaken? Looking for their lost story? We are not such fools. We don’t believe a single story will make sense of everything and bring peace to the world.” Her fierce expression backed up her words, but Marielle tilted her head to the side, watching her. There was more to it than that. Her scent held contempt, but also guilt. Did they owe the Waverunners something? Or had they done something terrible to them? It was old guilt, bred in the bones, lingering still. Hmmm. She’d have to puzzle that out.

  “Why not?” Marielle pressed.

  “We don’t look for stories,” the woman said, standing a little straighter. “We create them.”

  Those were bold words, and Marielle liked them, but she was surprised when the man with the conch shell turned to Etienne and asked, “Who is the young Windsniffer? Is she of your ship?”

  Etienne paused a moment before answering. “She is.”

  He turned to her, inclining his head slightly. “I am Anglarok of Ship White Peaks, of the Shard Islands of the Eighth Sea and I see my heart in you, young Windsniffer.”

  Marielle blushed. Windsniffer? Could that be like a Scenter? His nose wrinkled as she thought that. He was smelling her emotions. She fought back a burst of surprise and replied awkwardly.

  “I am Marielle Valenspear a Scenter for the Jingen City Watch.”

  “Have you a Wind Guide, Marielle?” he asked.

  She shot a glance at Etienne. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. What did that mean? How should she answer? She opened her mouth, uncertain. It took her a moment to decide on simply answering with the truth.

  “No.” After all, she did not even know what that was.

  He stepped away from the table, walking to where she was and circling her, seeming to study her from every angle, his nose wrinkling and sniffing constantly like a strange dog. Marielle shifted nervously, her belly quivering with nerves at the sudden attention.

  “And I am Ki’squall Liandari of Ship White Peaks of the Beneficent Islands of the Sixth Sea,” the woman said, “I am the Ki’Squall of the Harbingers of the Retribution. And in this city, I have found no welcome and no mercy and so we shall give no welcome and no mercy in the Retribution.”

  Her words sounded like a judgment. Marielle’s blood froze with the pronouncement. It was laced with the scent of deep, royal-blue authority and a confidence so thick she could have used it to rig a sail.

  “I’ve welcomed you,” Etienne said. “And I would be pleased to help you with your – ”

  “We don’t require help,” Liandari said again. Anglarok clucked his tongue and for some reason, Liandari blushed. “They said there would be an announcement in the Government District. We traveled there to listen but were not admitted to the square.”

  “I can grant you access there,” Etienne said. He sat down, even though the rest of them were still standing, and took a sip from his cup of water. “But surely you are not here to participate in Dawnspell.”

  “There was some talk of a hunt. A city-wide search for an ancient artifact,” Liandari said carefully.

  “There is always a hunt. This one should be as mundane as any other. The search for a simple trinket.”

  Liandari cocked her head slightly, as she seemed to do when working something out. “You are not so certain. You fear that this hunt will be for something that you actually need. You’ve asked them to make it about the mundane instead. You are waiting to see if your request has been granted.”

  Etienne smiled and Marielle couldn’t decide if this was some sort of verbal duel or a meeting of like minds. “Would you like to come as my guest?”

  “It will not wash away the insult Xin has shown us. It will not make this right.” She crossed her arms over her chest, practically quivering with indignation. “We should be granted places in the palace as honored guests. We should be offered tribute and gifts. We should be begged for mercy.”

  “Perhaps it will be a start, yes?” Etienne asked affably, but there was an edge to his tone. He wasn’t the begging kind.

  Memories of the rows of white sails flashed across Marielle’s memory. If that fleet was here to attack, could Xin survive such a conflict? What about right now when they were choked with refugees and under the threat of a dragon? She didn’t think so. Maybe someone should be begging for mercy.

  “What is the Retribution?” she asked and both Etienne and Liandari looked at her with surprise as if they had forgotten that anyone else in the room could speak.

  Liandari cleared her throat. “The Retribution brings Queen Mer’s justice to the land. As our prophecy says,

  A key will unlock Queen Mer’s justice – the opening of a dam, the loosing of a river.

  A key will unlock her children’s glory – a changing of the tide, a babble of many waters.

  Look for the key when the tides foam red and the dragons rise again.

  Look for the key when the Legends walk the world of men and the shells sing a new song.

  Look for the key in the blood of the dragon, in the dreams of the dragon, in the song of the dragon.

  Look for the key in the smoke of the dragon, in the death of the dragon, in the shards of the dragon.”

  She cleared her throat before continuing. “We are the Harbingers of the Retribution – the first tentacles feeling the land before we seize it. We have come looking for the key.”

  Marielle shivered. If she found any keys, she would know exactly who not to give them to.

  Behind her, Anglarok chucked, smelling of apricot satisfaction. “I like this one. She cares only about truth and justice. I will be her Wind Guide.”

  Marielle swallowed. As if things weren’t complicated enough, now she had to find out what a Wind Guide was and what price she would need to pay to yet another creditor.

  10: The Hunt

  Marielle

  The crowd surged around them so powerfully that Marielle was almost pushed into the moat. She leaned her
shoulder forward, bracing herself against the push of the crowd.

  True to his word, Lord Mythos had brought them past the Government District guards to the very front of the crowd as the noon announcement was about to be made. He stood side by side with Liandari, pressed against the moat of the Palace. Landholds and important merchants angrily pressed in from behind them to regain their usurped position.

  Etienne and Liandari didn’t care. They stood like two islands in an ocean storm, untouched as the harpooner guards and Marielle watched their backs.

  “Watch it!”

  “Foreigners!”

  The mutters and curses around them were not friendly.

  Marielle’s scarf was wrapped four times around her mouth and nose and even that wasn’t enough to block out the green bursts of envy and sepia resentment. She missed Carnelian. Carnelian would have pushed people back, barking at them to make a path for her Scenter. Instead, Marielle was nearly in the moat as she tried to catch a fresh breath of air and not be overwhelmed by the scents of the crowd.

  Normal scents were bad enough – freshly baked bread, fish from the docks, tanners, alchemists, spice merchants, and the thousand other every-day scents that clung to the people as they crowded together. But threaded through that was the anticipation of the hunt, swirling light blue and bright red with expectation and sweet-apple delight, and the undertone of ochre and paprika worry. There were also the beginning plumes of rose-colored obsession, and that worried Marielle. Whatever this crowd began to hunt for was going to be taken very seriously indeed.

  “Make way for the Timekeepers! Make way!” a crier called, and the crowd pressed back, pushing Marielle even closer to the tepid canal water as the white-robed time priests pushed forward, swinging their gold and silver mandalas and ringing silver bells. Only a week ago, Marielle would have ignored them – just another religion with strange beliefs – but after the rise of the dragon, she didn’t feel the same way. What if they were right about things, too? What if Grandfather Timeless was real? What if all really was one and one was all, and her past sins meant nothing because they accomplished nothing? What if all human suffering meant nothing because they were all just part of one greater whole?

  She shivered. If the horrors she had caused meant nothing, then good meant nothing either. What a terrifying thought.

  “Marielle!” a hand caught at her sleeve and she almost lost her balance into the canal. She had to drop into a crouch to avoid being pulled into the water. “Marielle!”

  “Jhinn!” He was in his small gondola, clinging to the side of the moat. “How did you get in there?”

  “I have my ways,” he said, bright eyes sparkling. “Tamerlan?”

  “Healing and safe,” she said, glancing around to be sure they weren’t caught, but no one was looking. All eyes were on the palace wall where a group of Landholds was assembling – Lady Saga the ruler of the city and her guests.

  “And you?” he asked.

  “I’m with them.” Marielle pointed to Etienne and the Harbingers.

  Jhinn hissed in a gasp and then the bells were ringing. So many bells of so many sizes that Marielle could hear nothing else over the tinkling and gonging and bonging filling the square.

  When, at long last, they stopped, her ears were still ringing.

  “Marielle, they’re dangerous!” Jhinn warned, pulling her closer to him so she could hear his desperate words. “We need to get upstream and away from them. I’ve found out who they are and what they want.”

  “Some kind of justice,” Marielle said, her eyes drifting up to where Lady Saga was welcoming the crowd.

  “This Dawnspell marks a legendary hunt that will determine the future of our city!” Lady Saga proclaimed, her high-collared dress looking as well-made and carefully-tailored as Lord Mythos’ jackets always had been. Like him, she was ringed with guards. “And for this hunt, the prize is like none other. A handful of gold might pay for a new shop or a freshly painted gondola. An invitation to a party might get you new connections or an experience you’ve never had before. I’m offering you something more- a single wish. If the item you are hunting for is found, I will grant the finder any one thing that is in my power to grant. So, search hard and make me proud!”

  Marielle glanced at Etienne. He stood leaning forward, his jaw clenched and fists balled at his side as if he could barely control himself as the next speakers walked forward. Was that worry pouring off of him in ochre waves?

  The girl with the long hair joining Lady Saga on the wide balcony made Marielle gasp. She looked like Tamerlan – soft where he was hard, slight where he was broad – but her likeness to him was remarkable. That was his light hair, his distinct jawline, his dreamy eyes. She even had shoulders a little too broad for her clinging dress – like his broad shoulders. Could that be his sister? It was strange to see her, knowing that she was at the root of all the tragedy in the past two weeks. She probably didn’t even know it.

  “It’s worse than that, Marielle,” Jhinn hissed as the newcomers arranged themselves. “They are coming to destroy us all. Beware any connections they make to you. They might seem helpful or benign, but any tie at all will bind you to them and you will not be able to escape. Promise me that you won’t let them offer you anything!”

  Marielle turned to him. “It’s too late. The one in the button up coat has decided to be my Wind Guide – whatever that is.”

  “Mer’s spit!”

  But his next words were washed away by the announcement.

  “I am Renli Di’sham and this is my beloved fiancé Amaryllis Zi’fen. Amaryllis will tell you about the hunt this year!”

  “Whatever you do, Marielle, don’t take any gifts from them, okay? Nothing, no matter how valuable, is worth that cost,” Jhinn hissed.

  “Okay,” she said uncertainly. “What do you mean by that?”

  But he was already rowing away as Amaryllis spoke to the noisy crowd. Marielle clenched her jaw in frustration.

  “The Dawnspell hunt this year will be for King Abelmeyer’s Eye,” Amaryllis proclaimed. “A ruby amulet of great power. With it, we will overthrow the dragon which destroyed our neighboring city and we will make Xin safe again!”

  A cheer erupted from the crowd – a cheer so loud that Marielle clamped her hands over her ears.

  “Look for it in the hiding places of King Abelmeyer! Search his statues and drink houses. Comb his bridges and obelisks. We will find it somewhere in our city!”

  There was a roar of approval and then Lord Mythos was pushing through the crowd. He grabbed Marielle by the collar, dragging her close so he could shout into her ear over the noise of the crowd. His eyes – desperate – were nothing compared to the pulsing orange and ginger of his scent.

  “Take the guests to Spellspinner’s Cures. I will return when I can. Keep them safe.”

  He was gone, slipping into the crowd faster than an eel through water. Marielle turned to the Harbingers, ignoring the fury on Liandari’s face. Anglarok’s mouth and nose were wrapped in a scarf just like hers, so she couldn’t see what his expression was as she spoke.

  “I’ve been ordered to guide you,” she yelled over the cacophony. “Will you follow me, please?”

  A knot was forming in her stomach. Jhinn’s warning had been clear – she should be avoiding these people. But she had also promised to serve the Lord Mythos and she couldn’t obey both at once. Where had he disappeared to? And why did he seem so shaken by the hunt for King Abelmeyer’s Eye?

  “I don’t think your friend got his wish,” Anglarok said as they pushed a path through the crowd for the others. “But don’t worry, Windsniffer, when we reach our destination, I have a gift for you.”

  And how, exactly, was she going to avoid receiving it? Things just kept getting more and more complicated. Marielle felt a twitch beginning in the corner of her eye.

  11: At Home in a Library

  Tamerlan

  Tamerlan gasped, leaning against the wall to try to clear the stars from hi
s vision. What he needed was a glass of cold water and some sleep. What he wanted were answers.

  The way forward seemed surprisingly clear and he didn’t want to lose that clarity. Not when it might make redemption a possibility.

  The past can’t be redeemed. But the future can be stolen.

  Lila Cherrylocks had a grim outlook on his chances, but she’d sing a different tune when he found a way to atone for his past.

  This Library reminded him gut-wrenchingly of the Queen Mer library. It was Dedicated to Deathless Pirate, an ensemble of skulls and bones, shipwrecks, and artfully depicted crashing waves. And just like the Queen Mer Library, The Deathless Pirate Library was guarded by a pair of vigilant librarians, complete in long, smooth aprons with soft cloth gloves on their hands. They were as concerned with keeping finger oils off parchment as they were with keeping humans away from their books entirely.

  He wasn’t known here. He didn’t work for a guild or have a sponsor. And that meant his only hope of accessing the books would be to sneak into the library. With a wound in his shoulder that had been infected and was only just now recovering, that wasn’t going to be easy. He took a long breath, flinching from the pain of it.

  Don’t let them see you.

  Yes, great advice. Don’t let the people you are hiding from see you.

  Your cynicism and selfishness will be your downfall. That was Byron Bronzebow. True heroes are men of valor both in action and thought.

  So, don’t be selfish and don’t let them see you. Got it.

  And don’t take that tone with us! Lila snapped. Just do as I say. Wait.