Chapter 11

“It reminds me of Circle Bay or Valara,” Leena said, gazing at the whitewashed buildings surrounding the market square.

“I think settlers from Circle Bay built up Kitish after they drove the pirates out a hundred years ago,” Boktar said.

Leena nodded. Kitish was one of the larger islands in this part of the Gilded Sea, and the only one with a deepwater port, making it a frequent stop for ships heading between Tyrsall and Nysa. There were other islands where ships could stop along the way, particularly for fresh water, but only if they anchored out at sea while sailors rowed a boat to shore. The convenience of having a real port at Kitish had resulted in a town that was entirely dependent on business from passing ships.

Leena held up a head of cabbage and looked questioningly at Boktar. The dwarf nodded, so she piled several more on the counter, along with the squash, onions, and garlic they’d already picked out. This early in the year, no local fruits or vegetables were available yet, so the only fresh produce came from farther south, where the growing season lasted longer. The selection was limited to crops that could travel long distances by ship without going bad, and everything was more expensive than Leena was accustomed to.

“Seventeen copper,” the seller said.

Leena winced, but Boktar paid it without complaint. They loaded everything into the carry bags they’d brought, then placed the bags in the two-wheeled, hand-drawn cart they’d rented. The cart merchant seemed to do brisk business—Leena had seen three more carts just like theirs.

“What else do we need?” Boktar asked, grabbing the handles.

“Most things are holding out, but I’ve used up a lot of the flour already,” Leena admitted. She was teaching herself new northern dishes with help from the ship’s cook and the recipe book she’d bought, but to compensate for her shortcomings, she found herself falling back to baking time and time again, producing breads or pastries for most meals.

That would have to stop soon. Peregrine had an oven, but once they reached land, baking over a campfire would be too time-consuming. She’d need to improve her other cooking before then. That is, if she was even supposed to stay with the group after they reached Cordaea. Her Seeking hadn’t told her anything useful since the ship had left Tyrsall.

“Flour will be expensive here. Can you hold out until Nysa?”

“I ... yes. I’ll make it last.”

“What about those dried hot peppers?”

“I don’t think your friends would like them,” she said.

The dwarf nodded. “We’ll just get enough for you and me. And I bet Shavala would try them.”

“We should buy eggs too. The cook will sell me a few cockerels for roasting, but all the eggs go to the crew.” She’d been surprised to discover that the ship’s crew kept chickens and pigs on board, though the pigs were treated more like pets than food.

“Eggs and peppers. Anything else?”

“Do you know how to butcher a goat?” she asked. She could slaughter a chicken, but she’d never learned anything larger.

Boktar raised his bushy eyebrows. “A goat?”

“There are only so many things I can make with salted pork or dried beef. Fresh meat would be good.”

“Let’s see if we can find a butcher here on the island, and get something fresh for tonight. We’ll wait to do our own butchering until we’re back on land. Shavala hunts rabbits for us, or sometimes deer if we think we can use it up or sell the rest before it goes bad, but you’ll want to keep things simple when we’re on the road—roasting it over a fire or adding it to a stew.”

Leena nodded. It wasn’t the first time Boktar had hinted that he knew she wasn’t really a camp cook. He’d hired her because she’d been the only person to inquire about the job. “I’ll do that,” she said.

She still had no idea what she was supposed to be doing here. Her best guess was that she needed to be in Cordaea and this ship was the easiest way, but why had the Seeking provided her with a job rather than a route? Becoming a cook certainly wasn’t going to help her avenge her parents.

Should she give up and Travel back to Tyrsall? It was outside her Seeking range, but she’d Traveled farther before, and if she was ever going to master her skills, she had to stop depending on Seeking as an aid. The ship had reached Kitish in twelve days, a day and a half earlier than expected. Was twelve days too long for her to remember Tyrsall’s signature and get back there? Would she end up in the ocean again?

Or what if she did make it back, and her Seeking told her to get on another ship headed to Cordaea? Leena sighed. She’d come this far—she might as well see it through.

Things could have been worse. The job was a lot of work, but no worse than the bakery, and Ellerie, the elven woman who seemed to be in charge, had come through on her promise. After every meal, Nedley now stayed behind to help wash up. Officially, the young man was employed as the expedition’s groom, but since they wouldn’t be buying horses until they reached Nysa, he had nothing else to do on board the ship.

Ellerie herself had sought Leena out a few more times for brief, awkward conversations. The silver elf was exotically attractive, but Leena just couldn’t think of anything to say to her. It was easier to speak to Boktar. As the group’s quartermaster, he was in charge of buying the food and supplies she needed for her duties, and he limited their conversations to business. He seemed to sense her reticence in talking about herself.

Leena’s demonborn roommate was the only person around who knew about her past, or at least part of it. Leena had never spent much time around demonborn before, and Razai reminded her of a pit viper, waiting patiently until it was time to strike. She was friendly enough, but in an intense and vaguely frightening sort of way, and Leena hadn’t felt comfortable outright lying to her. She didn’t want to draw the woman’s ire.

The others were polite, but Leena hadn’t made any effort to get to know them. What was the point, if her Seeking was going to send her in a different direction as soon as they arrived in Nysa? She felt guilty about lying to them, but they could always hire another cook—probably someone better suited for the task.

That was at least a week and a half away, though. For now, the job would provide her with free passage across the sea. Once they arrived, she’d try Seeking again so she could figure out what to do next.

Melithar was startled out of sleep when a resounding boom rattled the Glass Palace, reverberating from the inner windows in the Stone Wall out to the Glass Wall and back again.

He rolled out of bed and ran for the door, not bothering to find a shirt or shoes. As he sprinted down the corridor in the ambassadorial wing, various residents and visiting dignitaries poked their heads out of their rooms. He almost ran headlong into the Chondoran ambassador, dodging around the man and ignoring his shouted questions.

A few turns later, Melithar reached his destination. Four sentinels still stood armed and ready at the high arch leading through the Heart Wall into the inner palace. The two men in front carried tower shields, which they’d braced on the floor in front of them, and they’d drawn their arming swords in preparation for an attack. The men behind them carried halberds which were long enough to reach around the shields from the rear position.

Good. The barrier sentinels had kept to their post, waiting while the other squads searched for the source of the commotion. Melithar had a good idea where it was coming from. He’d heard it before.

The sentinels recognized him just as another boom sounded. They nudged their shields apart enough for him to run through the gap, then closed it again behind him.

He stopped at Princess Vilisa’s quarters first, but they were empty, showing signs of a struggle. One of the sentinels assigned to Vilisa’s night guard lay dead in front of the door, his eyes staring glassily up at the ceiling.

Melithar turned and dashed in the direction of Queen Revana’s chambers. If his daughter’s personal guards had been killed, he wasn’t sure he could stop what was happening.

He passed a squad of sentinels headed in the opposite direction. “With me!” he shouted. They turned and followed. The sentinels might not know his name—or at least not his real name—but they knew he was one of Her Exalted Majesty’s advisors.

Halfway between Vilisa’s quarters and Revana’s, Melithar slipped on something wet. He fell and slid across a sheet of blood, slamming into a wall.

The sentinels helped him to his feet, and he tried to piece together what had happened. Blood was splattered from the floor to the walls for thirty feet around, and even up to the high ceiling. He turned his gaze away from the small bits of flesh and bone mixed in with the mess. Vilisa’s second night guard lay to one side, and near him were the bodies of two men dressed in all black.