Now, he was certain of it. The other boat was gaining on them. Tamerlan felt for his sword. It was still there. And for his rolls of Spice. He’d need them too, if they were overtaken.
“Which means they are biding their time,” Etienne mused. “Do you know how many oranges we use every year in the Orange Wars, Tamerlan?”
“I have no idea.”
And he didn’t care. Every year fools took perfectly good oranges and threw them at each other in mock wars that imitated the civil wars – the real Orange Wars. Every year people wandered the sticky, citrus-scented streets the next day with black eyes and broken noses from mock fights that got out of hand. No holiday in the Dragonblood Plains was hotter for the gambling community. There were bets on injuries and wins and losses and even though it was all pretend and meant nothing, those chalk lines actually did make a difference in the cities. If your side won, there were connections made, trade deals, respect from your fellows and that insubstantial currency subtly influenced your status and wealth. The Orange Wars on Autumngale were foolish and dangerous – but they did mean something.
But he wasn’t thinking about Orange Wars. He was trying to gauge when he should smoke his Spice. Darkness was descending. Every moment made it just a little harder to see. And with the gondola lights unlit, he had to dodge empty barges going back out to sea to unload ships beyond the blockades and full orange barges headed back to the city. Why didn’t Etienne want the lights lit? Perhaps he thought they would lose their pursuers in amongst the traffic?
“Thousands. But it’s better than actually killing each other. All those resentments and angers and disputes spill over into what has become a yearly sport – a war where territories are fought for and claimed by the throwing of oranges until one side or the other gives up and goes home. All they win is bragging rights. And yet it works. It commemorates our civil wars – and it prevents more civil wars.”
It was more than that. Even Tamerlan knew that, and he was pretty sure that Etienne did, too.
“That’s nice,” Tamerlan said as Jhinn stirred in the front of the boat.
“I think that what we need to do,” Etienne said, “is leave this fine gondola in Jhinn’s capable hands while we take one of those barges to sneak past the blockade. And we need to do it quickly. Because when the Orange Wars start, I have a bad feeling that it will be more than oranges flying this year.”
Tamerlan looked up. Was Etienne saying that the Whisper was going to act this Autumngale? The Orange Wars would be the perfect cover for a revolution.
Tamerlan opened his mouth to ask if Etienne, but at that moment, Etienne launched himself over the side of the gondola, leaping onto the deck of an empty barge beside them.
“What ho, good captain!” he called as Tamerlan cursed, jumping up from the pedals and Jhinn woke.
“That boy is crazy!” Jhinn said, yawning as he spoke.
“We need to leave you with the gondola,” Tamerlan said hurriedly, checking his sword, knife, cloak, belt pouch, rolls of spice – did he have everything?
The gondola was gaining on them. He only had moments to make a choice.
“Can you wait for us in Choan? I need to go with him,” he said to Jhinn and as the boy was still nodding, he leaned down, lit his Spice on the small brazier they kept to light the lanterns, and pulled in a draft of smoke.
“I’ll be under the Jowl Bridge every night at sunset until you join me again!” Jhinn called as Tamerlan leapt up from the gondola, following Etienne into the dark. “And I’ll watch for you. Where Chaos reigns, that’s where I’ll find you.”
They shook hands in the darkness.
The gondola was nearly upon them and they’d just lost an ally in Etienne’s scramble. He’d better hope that he’d secured them a ship. This was all going way too crazy, way too quickly!
And I’m here to save you from it all. Trust me.
“Go!” he called to Jhinn and he leapt from the gondola as the Legend took him.
18: At Sea
Tamerlan
If you could have chosen someone to take you over – you’d choose Abelmeyer. He was noble and brave and incredibly skilled with the sword.
Plus, I’m used to operating with just one eye!
He sailed with Tamerlan’s body over the rail of the barge like he did this every day.
Muscles and bone and nerves that flash with life! It’s a heady feeling! Let’s rule this world!
His sword was out, flashing in the light of the barge lanterns as he struck a noble pose to the horror of the barge workers.
“We’re being taken! Our ship is being stolen from beneath us! Raise the warning!”
Feet thudded on the decks and Etienne shot Tamerlan a furious glance, but it was Abelmeyer who spoke with Tamerlan’s voice.
“STOP.”
As if compelled, the sailors froze mid-stride.
“Your barge is hereby needed in service of your cities,” Abelmeyer declared. “You will be compensated for this inconvenience and you will be sent back on your way as quickly as possible.”
“You can’t take the barge. We’re hired out for the week!” The captain looked aghast. “As I was saying to your man here.”
Etienne’s scowl deepened. He didn’t like being thought of as anyone’s servant.
“And as I was saying,” Etienne said. “It will only take you a few hours out of your way. We need just one stop at the Isle of Mer.”
And what did he think they would do after that? Without a ship or boat, they’d be stuck there.
Our enemy will have transport. We will take it for our own.
And what if he didn’t have ‘transport’? What if he’d made a deal just as foolhardy as ours? What if he had others with him and they kept us from taking his boat?
You ask too many questions. Act. Don’t doubt. Do you want this or not?
He wanted it.
You called me. Now trust me to do the job.
If Tamerlan could have clenched his jaw while Etienne finished the negotiation with the barge captain, he would have. But Abelmeyer had other ideas. He strode to the stern of the ship and peered out at the gondola following them.
Where was it? It had been back there only a moment ago.
Abelmeyer whirled, scanning the people on the deck, looking in every direction in the river around them.
Where?
Etienne strode over, smiling slightly.
“Despite your hotheaded foolery, we’ve been given what we asked for,” he said.
But Abelmeyer wasn’t listening. He was looking. Searching.
There was a creaking sound from behind them and Abelmeyer spun lightning-fast bringing his sword up.
He was just in time.
One blade met the other in the clang of steel on steel.
Liandari was lightning fast, her blade snaking out like a viper in any direction that he wasn’t guarding. But Abelmeyer was quick, too, turning her blade and spinning in a complicated movement that locked their swords together and almost succeeded in wrenching her sword away.
He pulled back from the clash, crouching low and darting his blade out like a flicking tongue of a lizard.
Flick toward her face. She countered.
Flick toward her feet. She danced aside.
Flick toward her wrist. That time his sword bit flesh.
But he didn’t stay still. He leapt from the crouch and strode forward so quickly that Tamerlan’s breath would have caught in his throat if he was the one doing the breathing. He pushed past her faltering guard and grabbed her throat with one hand, lifting her up and shaking her.
Beside him, Etienne was calling something, but Abelmeyer’s ears were roaring, his vision reddening in his battle rage.
A hand was placed on his shoulder and he spun to look at whoever was touching him. Liandari shook in his grasp as he moved.
Anglarok stood with hands raised, disarmed by Etienne but it was Etienne who had placed a hand on Tamerlan’s arm.
“Enough, brother
,” he said with a taut expression. “No need to kill her.”
The red began to clear from his vision, but it wasn’t Tamerlan who spoke. It was Abelmeyer.
“They are Banished Ones. The spawn of Queen Mer.”
“We could use them to get around the blockade,” Etienne said easily. “The barge is good, but what if they search it? These are their own people. They could help us get through.”
“Help us or betray us?” Abelmeyer asked. “Their ancestors fled the five cities during the Orange Wars. How fitting that they would return during the Autumngale celebration when the Orange Wars are remembered. Have you forgotten that they chased us all the way here? They want our blood. They do not want to help us.”
“We want Marielle,” Liandari gasped. Abelmeyer set her on the deck, but he still held her throat. “We need her to track the opener of the Bridge of Legends. He is our doom. He must be stopped.”
A muscle clenched in Etienne’s jaw and Tamerlan flinched internally. Would he reveal that Tamerlan was the one who had opened the Bridge? Didn’t he need Tamerlan as much as they did? Maybe that would keep him from being too honest.
If he does, I will dispatch them quickly. We dare not risk you.
“Does that mean that you will work with us to find Grandfather Timeless and set Marielle free from the clock?” Etienne asked.
“We have considered your tale,” Liandari gasped. “About the clock. About the Grandfather.”
“Give her a little breath, Tamerlan,” Etienne said, leaning forward like a hunting dog.
Abelmeyer let go of her throat. But his hand whipped out to grab her sword wrist instead. She flinched as his grip bit into her wound. But she hadn’t dropped the sword. That took discipline. Someone that disciplined might decide to strike at any moment.
She will strike us down the moment we no longer serve a purpose to her. And if she finds out you are our bridge to this world, she will do worse than kill you. We will not allow that.
How did he know?
Queen Mer sent them away with prophecies. Prophecies that the opener of the Bridge would destroy the world.
Well, Tamerlan wouldn’t be destroying anything. Except for maybe the Grandfather.
Exactly.
Although, opening the Bridge of Legends often had consequences he didn’t anticipate.
They are insane. Religiously insane and that is worse.
“We will help you find this Grandfather. Our quest is too important not to use whoever we can,” Liandari said.
“She was trying to kill me a moment ago,” Abelmeyer objected. “That’s not the work of someone who wants to be an ally.”
Etienne waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll take their weapons. You can watch them. They won’t cause trouble when we both want the same thing, will you, Liandari? We could use allies. The two of us haven’t succeeded yet. Maybe if we were four, that would change.”
It doesn’t matter if he brings them along. One wrong look and we’ll cut their throats.
That seemed harsh.
Would you rather they cut yours?
Liandari looked at Anglarok who shrugged and handed Etienne his short sword and harpoon. “Take them. But we would prefer if you guarded us.”
“Why?”
“The boy smells of madness,” Anglarok said, looking at Tamerlan as Tamerlan took the sword from Liandari’s hand. He hadn’t relaxed his grip on her wound. “The insane can be used, but never trusted.”
Tamerlan felt Abelmeyer’s jaw clench and he agreed wholeheartedly. He wasn’t insane. Was he?
Always, the weak see the strong as mad. Visionaries. Leaders. Seers. Through the ages, they are branded as madmen. You are only thought to be mad because you have tapped into the rushing river of time and plucked out the Legends leaping through the water like salmon. You have birthed us into the world for a short time to feed your vision. Ignore the mortal.
“I think it’s better if I watch them,” Abelmeyer said calmly to Etienne. “The ship’s crew needs your ability to calm them.”
He nodded his head toward where the ship’s crew was gathered around, jaws dropping open as they watched the tableau in the stern.
Etienne cursed softly and then nodded to Tamerlan.
Liandari grunted in protest, but with her weapons gone she could only protest with murderous looks.
“Don’t kill anyone while I’m gone,” Etienne said quietly – and he was deadly serious. He strode away, speaking calmly to the sailors like a man trying to reassure a dog, but his fist clenched and unclenched betraying his own worry.
Tamerlan smiled at Liandari and Anglarok, shuddering inside at the feeling of that smile. When Abelmeyer smiled with his mouth, it did not feel pleasant. It felt vicious.
“If we’re really going to work together, then we need to talk,” Liandari said as Anglarok opened his bag and brought out a roll of bandage for her wrist.
“I suppose you’ll want to lay the groundwork for how to use me,” Abelmeyer said with Tamerlan’s voice. But Tamerlan was secretly cheering him on. Yes! She deserved to know how much that had stung.
“We’re hitched together now – you and me. We want the same thing,” Liandari said, her eyes hard as flint.
“Then swear to me by the salt of the sea and the salt of your blood that we are one until the purpose is met.”
What did that mean?
It is how these people swear. If she does not agree, then she plans to betray us.
“How do you know about that?” Liandari’s eyes flashed with suspicion.
“Don’t try to guess how much I know.”
Sometimes Abelmeyer sounded noble. Sometimes he sounded like an arrogant fool.
Don’t insult the person who can destroy your body.
Liandari and Anglarok looked at each other and then at him. Their expressions were identical – narrowed, suspicious eyes.
“We don’t make promises to the insane.”
Abelmeyer leaned in close – so close that Tamerlan wondered if he planned to kiss her.
I’d rather kiss a snake.
He was still gripping her wrist as Anglarok danced nervously from foot to foot.
“Insane or not, I’ll split you from navel to nose unless you swear.”
They exchanged another dark look before they spoke in unison.
“We swear on the salt of water and blood not to try to kill you until together we have freed Marielle from the clock.”
Abelmeyer gave them a small, tight bow. Confidence almost dripped off of him.
“I swear by the salt of water and blood not to try to kill you until together we have freed Marielle from the clock.”
He sheathed his sword. What was he doing? They looked like they might try to kill him at a moment’s notice.
Not now that they’ve sworn.
Anglarok spat and his face was dark with suppressed anger. But he took his sword from the pile and sheathed it, leaning his harpoon against the rail of the ship.
“The failed ruler has a way with words,” Liandari said, nodding to where Etienne had calmed the ship’s crew and got them back on course.
“A ruler only fails if his people die needlessly,” Abelmeyer said, taking her wrist in his hand. “This needs stitches. Let me help you with that.”
With a piercing expression on her face, she handed him a small oil-cloth packet and let him begin the work of stitching her skin. But tension and violence crackled in the air around them like lightning about to strike.
And if they ever realized that he was the one they were really looking for, then no vows in the world would save him. He’d just have to keep smoking and keep Abelmeyer there until they found the Grandfather. Otherwise, he’d be as vulnerable as a fish in a net.
I’ll make sure you are safe. Just keep me around so that I can.
19: Out of Reach
Marielle
She couldn’t help it. His scent drew her like a bee to a flower and now she was here, watching him again. Watching his blue eyes fill
ing with wonder as he traced the structure of the Queen Mer library with his gaze. He was sketching it on a recipe page he was holding that was meant to make a stronger steel. But around the edges of the recipe were charcoaled sketches of the library. Of a child’s face with the light hitting his eye at just the right angle to make it sparkle mischievously. Of an old woman’s gnarled hands.
Tamerlan’s smile was far away as he added to the collection of sketches.
“Tam!” Dathan is in trouble again!” a voice called to him, shaking him out of his reverie. “He bet against a blacksmith in cards and if he loses again, he’ll pay with more than coppers!”
Tamerlan stuffed the pages in his belt and sprinted after the other boy.
That’s who he’d been before all this. A dreamy artist. A thinker. A helper of friends.
But could you really say that was still who he was? After everything he’d done? She wasn’t sure. But she was beginning to think she knew him now, or at least knew who he had been before he woke the dragon.
And yet, she felt a pull to him. She couldn’t help but watch him wade into the tavern and push between his friend and the hulking blacksmith.
“Can I help you, friends?” he asked mildly.
“Only if you can pay his debt!” the blacksmith cursed. “Fool bet with nothing to back it!”
“I can pay you later,” Dathan started, stumbling a little as he tried to step backward. His eye was already swelling – a red flower on his pale face. He must have been hit before Tamerlan arrived.
But the blacksmith lunged at him and Tamerlan had to throw a shoulder into the blacksmith’s chest to hold him back.
“Whoa, whoa,” he said gently. “No need for violence. It’s not the answer here.”
“He stole from me! And no one steals from Chysander.”
“Chysander is it?” Tam asked with a friendly smile. “How much does he owe you?”
“Two full silver.”
Tamerlan reached in his purse, pulling out two silver coins and holding them out to the blacksmith.
“Not enough, now!” the man sputtered, refusing to take them. “Now he’s caused me trouble, too.”
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