Chapter 9

Peregrine may not have been as large as the massive cargo carracks that formed the bulk of the Senshall fleet, but at over a hundred and fifty feet long, and thirty feet across at her widest point, she was still a big ship. And a busy ship. Corec had to wait his turn to ascend the ramp from the pier to the main deck, while the sailors ahead of him rolled a heavy barrel up the incline.

When he made it to the deck, he greeted Boktar, who was crossing items off a checklist.

“There was nothing left to haul, so I took the mules back to the stable,” Corec said. “We’re paid up four months in advance, and Treya left extra coin with Renny Senshall to pay the stablemaster more if we’re gone longer.” The group had pooled their money together to stable their animals in Tyrsall, since that wasn’t included in the expenses Senshall was paying for.

The dwarf nodded. “Then I think we can cast off as soon as the crew is finished loading whatever it is they’re loading.”

A large swell passed below, a wave on its way to the shore. The ship rocked just slightly. Corec closed his eyes and grasped the railing, trying to keep his stomach steady. They hadn’t even set sail yet, and it was already starting. Normally he could ignore the smell of the ocean, but now that he was on board, all it did was make him think of how sick he was about to get.

“Are you all right?” Boktar asked.

“I don’t like boats.”

The other man laughed. “And you’re coming with us? We’re going to be at sea for almost a month.”

“I’ll probably spend the first week below decks trying to keep from getting sick. Is everyone on board?”

“Our people are. Captain Valen is keeping track of his crew and the Senshall folks, but I think most of them are here.”

“Who’s that?” Corec asked, eyeing a woman who was helping Marco tally up crates of food before the sailors hauled them below. “I thought the crew were all men.” The woman had the bronze skin and dark eyes of a Sanvarite. Her black hair was long, falling to the middle of her back, and she wore a modest white dress with a high neckline, and sleeves that covered her arms to the wrist.

“That’s Leena, our new cook. I hired her yesterday. To be honest, I doubt she’s done much campfire cooking, but I love Sanvari food. Plus, we didn’t have a lot of choice—nobody else wanted to sign on at cook’s wages for a trip across the sea without knowing when they’d return.”

“Can she cook at all?”

“She said all the right things, I just got the impression she hasn’t spent much time living rough. She seems a bit too ... cultured. Oh, and she doesn’t speak Eastern. Just trade tongue, Western, and her own language.”

Corec nodded. They usually spoke trade tongue anyway, since Shavala’s Eastern wasn’t strong. He wasn’t sure if Sarette spoke Eastern either.

Another large swell passed by and he steadied himself again, his head feeling funny. Could he really handle a cross-ocean voyage?

Abruptly, he realized it wasn’t seasickness he was feeling—or at least that wasn’t the only thing he was feeling. There was a mage nearby. Casting his mind out, Corec’s eyes fell on the cook again. Any time he looked her way, he felt an oddly familiar sensation. He hurriedly clamped down on his magic, but it wasn’t necessary. His mind wasn’t forcing him to cast the warden binding spell the way it had with Razai. Instead, it was more like a gentle suggestion. Had he finally gotten control over the spell?

If Leena was a mage, why was she working as a cook? Was she spying for Varsin? Marco was along as Senshall’s official representative, but the trader may have sent someone less obvious too. Then again, Corec was a mage, and he’d been working as a caravan guard. Perhaps it wasn’t that strange after all. He’d keep an eye on her, but if she didn’t cause any problems, he’d leave her alone.

Something had been nagging at Corec’s mind ever since he’d met with Yelena a few days earlier. Wardens were supposed to be able to sense other mages. He’d felt something—that strange sense of familiarity—when he’d first encountered Razai and Sarette, and now Leena, but he’d never felt it with Yelena or her bondmates, or with Priest Telkin, or Vartus or Galina back in Snow Crown. And he’d never felt it randomly on the street, though he must have passed by other mages along the way.

After he’d bonded Sarette and Razai, the feeling had stopped, and he’d never noticed it at all from Katrin or the others, though he wouldn’t have been able to recognize it back in the early days. If it really was a warden’s ability to sense other mages, then why had it only worked three times?

The only possible answer was that he’d been wrong. The oddly familiar sensation wasn’t how wardens identified other mages after all.

But then, what was it? Could it have something to do with how he’d accidentally cast the binding spell five times? And had it truly been accidental? Katrin, Ellerie, and Yelena had all pointed that he was only bonding women. At this point, it had to be deliberate. The sensation he was feeling from Leena might provide him with a clue, if he could just figure out what it meant.

And how did wardens recognize other mages? Yelena had confirmed that they could, but she’d never actually mentioned how it worked.

Corec glanced back at the raised deck to the rear of the ship, where Katrin and Shavala were standing. They were mages, so why couldn’t he sense anything different about them? If he concentrated, the warden bond would tell him what direction they were in, but that was the only unusual feeling he could identify.

He stared at Katrin, focusing until he could almost feel his eyes crossing. Luckily, she was facing the other way, and wouldn’t see him making a fool of himself. Then he felt it—just a slight tingling sensation. He tried again with Shavala, and it happened faster this time. When he focused on Leena, it happened almost immediately.

It was getting easier. He had to concentrate on a specific person, but it only took a moment. All he’d had to do was try, rather than expecting it to happen on its own.

One mystery had been solved, though it still didn’t explain the other sensation he was still feeling from Leena. If the ship hadn’t been preparing to leave, he’d have tried to talk to Yelena about it.

“Captain Valen,” Boktar said suddenly from behind him, “this is Corec Tarwen of Larso, the last member of our party. We’re all aboard and ready to go as soon as you are.”

Valen was short, hardly taller than Boktar, but he had the self-assured air of someone who knew what he was doing.

“Captain,” Corec said, greeting him with a nod. “Can you tell us when we’ll be leaving?” Asking the question made his stomach churn.

“We’ve got a good wind at the moment for getting out of the harbor,” Valen replied. “If it keeps up, we’ll set out when the purser returns from the company office, though I think we’re waiting for one more member of the Senshall group.”

“I’m sure she’ll be here on time,” Boktar said.

Corec furrowed his brow. “Who’s missing?”

“Renny Senshall’s representative. I never caught her name—oh.” The dwarf stopped talking and stared past him.

Corec turned to the loading ramp to see who Boktar was looking at.

Razai was waiting two berths away from the Peregrine when Corec strode past on his way to the ship. He didn’t notice her in the sailor disguise she was wearing.

She couldn’t help laughing. Her father had won after all.

Why hadn’t she gone somewhere farther away? Why had she stayed in a city Corec visited regularly? Sure, Vash was here, but he wasn’t that close of a friend. Instead of Tyrsall, she could have gone to ... Her mind drew a blank. She knew people across the entire continent, but they were all like Vash. Acquaintances, or people she’d worked with once or twice. Hells, half of them were probably dead of old age by now. Humans aged quickly, and most demonborn did as well.

In the distance, Corec climbed the steep ramp leading to Peregrine’s deck.

She shook her head, still laughing at the futility of it all. All those times Renny had talked about her former roommate, but until she’d mentioned the name, Razai hadn’t made the connection. In the weeks she’d spent following the group, she’d never realized Treya was a Sister of the Three Orders. The girl certainly wasn’t a concubine, and that was the limit of what Razai knew about the Orders.

She could still run—simply tell Renny she wasn’t going to take the job after all—but she had never run from a threat before, so why continue trying to escape from inevitability? Vatarxis always got his way in the end. Besides, it was hard to turn down four or more months of good, steady pay, and if she knew where Corec was at all times, she could stop worrying about him turning up unexpectedly. It wasn’t him she had a problem with.

Razai composed herself and rubbed at her eyes. Her laughter must have crossed over into hysterics, judging by the strange look she was getting from a nearby fisherman, who was staring up at her from where he’d been scrubbing the deck of his boat. She winked at him and shed her illusion, taking on her own appearance. There wasn’t any point in hiding her identity. It wouldn’t take long for Corec to realize who she was.

The fisherman gaped and jerked erect at the sudden change. When she gave him a wide smile, showing her fangs, he stumbled backward and fell into the harbor with a splash.

Razai peered down into the water, checking to make sure he hadn’t hit his head when he went over the side. After reassuring herself he’d be able to climb back up on his own, she hefted her pack over her shoulder and headed down the pier, mentally preparing herself. She’d known this moment was coming for six days now—ever since Renny had told her the names of the group she’d be traveling with—but she’d put it off as long as possible, resisting the concubine’s suggestion of an earlier meeting.

At the top of the ramp, she found Corec talking to the stoneborn man, Boktar. The redhead and the wood elf were up on the quarterdeck, standing at the railing and looking down into the water of the harbor. The rest of the group must have been below decks. Boktar saw her first and stopped talking.

Corec turned her way, his eyes widening. “Razai! What are you doing here?”

“Renny Senshall sent me,” she said flatly. “That’s the only reason I came, so don’t go getting any ideas. I work for her, not for you.”

“You’re the woman she mentioned? I thought you didn’t want to be anywhere near me.”

Razai shrugged. “I gave her my word before I knew you’d be here, but the pay’s good.”

He stared at her suspiciously. “Are you really working for Senshall, or for someone else?”

“I’m no longer associated with my former employer,” she said. Her father may have tricked her into following Corec again, but if Vatarxis wanted any information out of her, she’d make him work for it. “I’m here to make sure Renny’s investment is used wisely.”

Corec had the gall to laugh at that. “Well, I guess I’m glad it’s someone we know. Welcome aboard.”

What did he mean by that? Did he think she’d go easy on him? She grunted in response. “Where’s my cabin?”

“Ahh, I haven’t actually seen mine yet either. Boktar, what do we have?”

“We’re taking up all six passenger cabins,” the stoneborn man said. “Two people per cabin. Razai, we’ve never spoken before, but thank you for your help back in High Cove. If you’re the woman Mistress Senshall is sending along, you’ll be sharing with the cook we hired. We couldn’t put her in with the crew. The cabins are small and cramped, but at least we each have our own cots.”

“I thought Varsin said his brother used this ship himself?” Corec asked.

“I imagine he takes over the captain’s chamber and stateroom when he does, but this is still better than being in hammocks with the crew. These ships just aren’t built for comfort.”