Eventually, the boat slowed, and Marielle looked up into the sky at the silhouette of the dragon as it swam across the sun.
I will fulfill my promise.
At least this time the city had been evacuated – by everyone but Tamerlan.
She felt her lower lip tremble and tears blinded her so that she couldn’t see where they were going until Jhinn landed them on the bank of the river.
“Here is where you get out, heretic.”
“I’m no more a heretic than you, Son of Mer,” the guard said.
“Don’t call me that,” Jhinn snarled.
There was a murmur from the bank and Marielle looked up to see that Jhinn had landed them beside an encampment of refugees from Choan and with them was a contingent of the Retribution.
“What did you call him?” a man dressed like a Ki’squall asked.
“He’s the Son of Mer! The man from the prophecy!” the guard said eagerly as he clambered out of the boat.
“Shove off before they keep us here,” Jhinn ordered Marielle.
Even if she’d wanted to push off, she couldn’t. Strong hands gripped the gunwales of the gondola.
“The Son of Mer? The one of prophecy?” a voice asked.
“Can he really be the one?” a woman asked, pushing past the guard. Her clothing was finer than the Ki’squalls, her hair clubbed back under a wide-brimmed stiff hat. “Speak man, are you the one spoken of in the prophecies?”
“I’m only a fool who doomed himself to be a heretic just like you,” Jhinn snarled.
“He walked on land, even though you know they don’t do that! Just like the prophecy says!” their guard said, quoting. “He will open the Bridge and in that day, it is only the Heir of Mer who may close it again. In retribution, the heir of Queen Mer will lay waste to the Legends and return the dragons to their place and they will be quelled forever, their fury kept at bay for all eternity. In that day the landless will walk on Land and will be called the Son of Mer. In his unfaithfulness, he will be faithful. In his damnation, he will bring salvation to all.”
“What was that?” Jhinn asked, his face pale. He reached out of the boat and grabbed the guard’s arm, drawing him close. “What was that you said?”
The man squeaked. “It’s only the prophecy! Everyone knows it!”
“I’ve never heard those words spoken before,” Jhinn said, but his gaze had turned inward, his brow furrowing. The guard squirmed his arm out of Jhinn’s grip.
“But you are a Waverunner, yes?” the woman asked, a considering look on her face.
“Who are you, if you please?” Marielle asked her. Jhinn ignored them both.
“I am Captain Hi’lan’yilth of the Black Sails Division of Ships,” she said and around her, the Retribution snapped to a form of attention, fists to heart before relaxing at her gesture of two waving fingers.
“He is a Waverunner, Captain,” Marielle said.
“Then it’s true.” The Captain’s face was harsh and weathered by sun and wind, but her eyes widened with almost child-like wonder. The Son of Mer has come. He will save us from the dragons!”
“It’s what we’re trying to do,” Marielle said tiredly.
The Captain cocked her head to the side. “And you wear our Windrose. You are pledged to all that is truth and justice.” She nodded, seeming pleased. “You are helping him in this goal?”
“Yes,” Marielle agreed.
“Good. The Retribution is at your disposal. What do you wish of us?”
Around her, gasps filled the air at the Captain’s declaration.
“One of these dragons is in your land across the sea,” Marielle said. “Buried under your city.”
“Xyteryx,” the Captain agreed.
“Really?” one of the sailors behind her said. Hurried whispering and worried looks filled the crowd of Retribution along the shore. Perhaps this part wasn’t common knowledge to their people.
“When we have finished,” Marielle said, weighing her words carefully. “When we have finished removing the dragons from this land, we must see to that one, as well. We need some way to get to it. Some way to explain to the people there who we are and what we are doing.”
The Captain nodded briskly.
“A moment.” She waved to a guard and when he trotted up, she gestured to him. “Bring the purser and parchment.”
“We need to go, Marielle,” Jhinn said through gritted teeth. Even after everything that had happened, he viewed these people as enemies.
“Wait only a moment, Jhinn,” she said, her steely gaze turning to him. Their quarrel wasn’t over. “We’ll need this help. Surely we can wait a few minutes for it.”
“If they want to help, they should give us food and water,” he snapped.
Marielle and the Captain shared a look. Marielle embarrassed and the Captain amused. She nodded to one of her people and he trotted off, reappearing only minutes later with a waterskin and a basket of food. He offered them to Marielle.
“Thank you,” she said.
Jhinn’s eyes were fixed on the horizon as a burly man with a wooden writing desk slung from a strap around his neck came hurrying up. He made a quick salute to the Captain and then pulled out a pen and parchment. She leaned forward, her pen scratching as she wrote on the parchment and then handed Marielle the letter.
“Give this to anyone with a rank of Captain or above and they will know what to do.”
“Thank you,” Marielle said again, and the Captain gestured to her guards.
“We will send guardians with you.”
“No,” Jhinn’s tone was harsh.
“That would be wonderful,” Marielle said.
“No!” This time he pushed off from the bank, already pedaling with all his might. Marielle’s mouth fell open and she hastily made a salute to the Captain like the ones the guards had made.
“My apologies,” she shouted as they sped away. “Thank you for your great generosity.”
They were nearly out of earshot before she turned on Jhinn.
“Do you really think you’re so much better than them? You walked on land, too!”
“To my deep shame.”
“And you saw it was prophesied! All this was! The prophecy said that you save everyone with what you did! Isn’t that right? Isn’t it good? Isn’t it worth it?”
He was silent.
“And don’t you realize,” she said with a cutting edge to her voice, “that now that Tamerlan is gone, we might not be able to free the last dragon? What if one of the Legends takes him over as a new avatar and we have no idea where he is or how to find him?”
At that Jhinn’s gaze shot up, and she gasped as she realized his eyes were glassy with tears.
“Please,” he begged. “Please just let this all be over.”
She sagged, deflated. What did you say to that? After all, she felt exactly the same way. Just when this couldn’t get any worse, it did. She couldn’t fight with him. Not when he was just as broken as she was.
“I’ll take a turn pedaling,” she said eventually. “You should sleep.”
She couldn’t think of anything else to say as she took his place and began the endless crawl back up the river, toward the last standing city of the Dragonblood Plains.
20: The Welcome of Yan
Marielle
After days of pedaling up the river with Jhinn’s dark looks and angry silences, the city of Yan should have been a welcome sight. For Marielle, the sight was bittersweet.
Children played along the shores of the river and despite the chill of too-early Spring, men fished from the banks with long rods and baskets. Even the refugee camps of tents and shanties that they passed as they moved closer to the city looked cheerful – their cookfires bright and their people bustling.
At least they wouldn’t be made refugees twice – not really. These camps were far enough outside the city that they should survive the rise of the dragon here. Assuming she could find the crown. Which was a pretty big assumption since she
wasn’t nobility and didn’t know where to start looking. She’d counted on having Tamerlan with her. A landhold’s son would know where to start the search.
She hadn’t realized how much she relied on him until now – when he was no longer with them, maybe no longer alive. It had been all she could do these past few days to keep her focus as her thoughts turned often to the last time she’d seen him, crumpled on the floor in a pool of blood.
Jhinn was no help. He was wrestling with his own demons, refusing to say more than yes or no to her at any time. She wished she could help him, but everything she touched fell apart. The best she could do for him was to leave him alone.
She put her hand over her Windrose often and thought about the Retribution and their prophecies, about swearing the first time and receiving the rose and about her vows to Jingen and the law of the city. They were all about justice. And that was what she was clinging to, now. With nothing else left, she’d been stripped down to that one last shred – her absolute dedication to justice in the world. She could still get it for everyone. She just needed to focus on the goal and not the sacrifices.
She clung to hope like a barnacle to a ship and prayed that justice was real and achievable. She’d mourn her dead later. She’d mourn her scars later. For now, there was only justice, singing to her like a siren in the sea.
The city walls rose up – imposing but elegant – as they passed the last shanty village and into the city. Beautiful though it was, the presence of so many people made her lift her veil – growing tattered now from so many months of use – to guard her nose. Cities were always overwhelming and after days on the river, she knew that so many emotions might overwhelm her.
Stern guards lined the gate, watching the passing boats. There were far more than she would have expected – rough men in untidy uniforms and Yan City Watch Officers with grim expressions backing them up. A long polearm blocked their passage.
“No new refugees. The city is full,” the guard said, frowning at their gondola. “You’ll have to apply for a day pass to trade in the walls.”
“We’re not refugees,” Marielle said. “We’re visitors.”
He snorted. “A likely story.”
Marielle felt her cheeks grow hot. She’d done her best to patch and clean the clothing she’d taken from Allegra’s shops, but it hadn’t been possible to entirely repair the effects of the battle while they were on the river. She didn’t look like a former watch officer anymore, never mind a prosperous merchant or landhold.
“Name who you are visiting.”
Her mind raced. She could give her mother’s name, but what chance was there that a gate guard would believe that. As she bit her lip, her veil slipped and the scents of the city hit her like a gust of wind.
“Marielle?” a voice asked from among the guard and a woman stepped forward, lowering her own veil as she took Marielle in.
“Alyssan!” Marielle’s eyes widened. She barely knew the other woman beyond her name, but she’d been a Scenter in the City Watch of Jingen.
“She’s from the Jingen Watch,” Alyssan said to the other guards. She turned to Marielle. “There are positions open here if that’s what you’re looking for, but you’ll have to get cleaned up first. You’re a wreck.”
Marielle nodded seriously. “Thank you.”
“Once you’re tidy, report to Captain Longweather in the Alchemist’s District. She’s hiring more Scenters for the Springhatch Festival. I’m sure she’ll offer you the role.”
“Thank you,” Marielle said, truly touched. In any other circumstances, she would have leapt at this. Imagine serving in the City Guard again – enforcing the laws and ensuring justice, polishing leather and armor before going out on patrol, drinking and eating with friends after a long day. She almost sighed at the thought, but Jhinn was pulling away from the cluster of guards and heading into the city.
“I guess you still have friends,” he remarked, bitterly.
Marielle had almost forgotten about the Festival, but it was upon them already. Eggs, hollowed and painted, were strung on yellow ribbons over windows and doors. Clusters of dried herbs were tied along longer ribbons that were strung from rooftop to rooftop. It was a plea to the ages for newness and Spring. For rebirth and fresh starts.
Little arrows were painted on the eggs – a tribute to Byron Bronzebow who supposedly began the Festival when he brought stolen eggs by the cartload to a starving village. He’d plundered the eggs from a supply train headed to their Landhold and in tribute to him, every year, they painted bright eggs with his arrows on them. Or so the legends said.
Marielle smiled wistfully, wondering if Tamerlan would confirm that story if she asked him. If he were alive at all. Her smile faded with the reminder.
“I’m not sure why you’re smiling,” Jhinn said grimly. “This next part is on you. You alone must find and steal this crown. I won’t leave my boat again. And the guards were right. You look like a refugee.”
She felt her face heat, almost snapping back that he looked no better, but she doubted he would care. His eyes were bright for the first time in days as they lighted on his people in family boats and gondolas throughout the city.
“You’ll give them time to evacuate, right?” he asked, hope in his voice.
“The Waverunners?”
“Yes.”
“So, you do care about someone even though you didn’t care about my people.”
He snorted. “Mine are alive.”
She dropped her oar on the boat floor and strode over to him, leaning so her face was inches from his. “I think you should know better than that now, Jhinn. I think it’s time that you recognize that the world might not be entirely what you thought it was.”
“Don’t think I haven’t,” he growled. “But now I have people to warn and you have a crown to find. I’ll drop you off at that message tree.” He pointed to a place where people were surrounding a tall pole, checking the pigeonholes surrounding it for messages and postings. “Meet me there again at this time tomorrow. And don’t even think of freeing the city until then.”
“I don’t take orders from you, Jhinn,” Marielle whispered.
His eyes narrowed. “I saved your life. I think you owe me something.”
She swallowed. He was right. “Of course I’ll give you time to save your people.”
She scrambled out of the boat and onto the ledge of the canal, taking the small leather satchel she’d packed with her. There wasn’t much in it beyond the letter from the Captain and Etienne’s letter, but maybe that would get her the funds she needed to clean up. If everyone was watching her thinking that she was nothing more than a refugee, then it was going to be hard to get into the palace.
She climbed the stairs to the street above hurriedly, flinching against the smells bombarding her – mint and tarragon from the hanging herbs, the smell of eggs, and the heady cilantro scent of anticipation filled the streets.
In between that, the scents of the individual people and their problems poured over her. She was glad of it. Even this was better than the constant simmering scent of despair that had filled the gondola since Choan. Something familiar – a mandarin orange scent laced with rust made her nose wrinkle and then a hand settle on her arm.
“We need to stop meeting like this.”
She turned to see Etienne and her mouth dropped open.
“How? What? How did you find me here? I just arrived!”
“I’ve been watching the gate,” he said coolly. “This is the most logical entrance to the city if you’re coming from Choan. Follow me. We shouldn’t speak on the street.”
She did follow him, but she didn’t close her mouth behind the protective cover of the veil. How had he arrived before them? And why was he waiting for her? It was hard not to encourage a flicker of hope. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do this alone. Maybe she’d have an ally with her.
The inn he took her to was close by, the doorframe draped with a dozen yellow ribbons and brightly painted eggs. Eti
enne strode past the muscled tough protecting the door and into a mostly empty common room. He nodded to the innkeeper who was polishing glasses behind a long bar.
“Extra if she’s staying, too,” the innkeeper said, not even looking up.
“She’ll be in my room,” Etienne said shortly.
“Still extra.”
Etienne tossed him a coin with a sigh. The innkeeper caught it without looking up.
Etienne had all this planned out, it would seem. The inn. The meeting. He led her up the stair and opened the door to one of the rooms. On the bed, he’d spread out a clean set of trousers, boots, shirt, vest, scarf, and coat. They were clearly for her unless Etienne’s figure and tastes had changed a lot in a matter of days. He’d planned this, too. She turned with a frown as he shut the door.
He raised a hand, forestalling her questions.
“Allegra is setting up a Xin in exile. Refugees from Choan have already joined her there. That’s taken care of. The moment Xin lifted, I knew you’d need my help here. So don’t be upset. I will rejoin her and very soon – I have not abandoned our plan.”
“Of course,” Marielle said warily, still confused by all the efficiency.
“I received word by pigeon as I traveled here that someone fulfilled the prophecy of the Son of Mer for the Retribution. It impressed them so much that they are returning home by sea to prepare their people for the coming of the Son of Mer.”
“They are?” Marielle asked, gasping.
“Jhinn would only have walked on land if it was the only way,” Etienne said calmly. “Which means we’ve lost Tamerlan somehow.”
Marielle nodded mutely, her eyes tearing up. He’d figured all of that out just because the Retribution had left?
“Which means you need me to help you get in the palace in the way that Tamerlan might have. But I’d already anticipated that as soon as Xin lifted. You need me to help you identify the crown with Lila’s avatar. You need me to provide money for the lodgings, food, and clothing that you need. So, I came.”
He looked so serious.
She didn’t care. She stumbled to him and wrapped him in a hug. He stiffened in her arms and she still didn’t care. He’d thought about them! He’d realized she would need help, and that he couldn’t do this alone and he’d helped!
Bridge of Legends- The Complete Series Page 91