She shut her eyes. The soft, Dageian tongue buzzed around her, along with the cry of seagulls. She smelled the rising salt-smell of the sea and caught a tinge of smoke in it.
At first, she was convinced it was normal—she didn’t know what to expect, and the airship’s mechanisms had given off steam when they first started for the air. But then her stomach sank, with the sensation that the whole ship was experiencing a sudden dip. A cry erupted from the wheel. She noticed one of the mages slumped to the floor, his eyes half-open.
The ship rocked sideways and began to plunge into a spiral.
Chapter Four
The remaining mage on board was touching the rune etched above the post behind the wheel, his face contorted.
“I’m losing my connection!” he screamed. The ship tipped.
“Fucking try!” one of the mechanics called from below deck.
Sume grabbed the rail as the ship tilted the other way. Somebody beside her toppled over and disappeared below. She heard the mage screaming—a high-pitched, unnatural sound—and shielded her eyes from the stinging wind. Although she wasn’t sure which of her gods would hear her all the way out here, she began to pray.
She heard Kefier call out to the mage and turned to see him scrabbling across the deck towards the rune. She couldn’t make out what she told him, but the mage glanced at his shoulder, which he had bared. From where she stood, she could register the faint outline of the slave tattoo he’d claimed he had burned out before. He’d mentioned some sort of enchantments on it, but she had never asked the details; he had never looked like he wanted to talk about it.
The mage reached out to clasp a hand around Kefier’s shoulder. A blue glow appeared around the shadow he made against Kefier’s skin. The ship’s rocking slowed down, although it continued to plummet at an alarming rate. Someone yelled something about the docking towers up close, but Sume didn’t turn to look. She couldn’t tear her eyes off Kefier and the mage, forgotten in that corner below the rune.
The ship jolted. A man beside her told her to get below deck. Although she felt numb, she managed to follow him. The last thing she saw out on the deck was Kefier sinking to his knees while blood dripped from his shoulder and gathered in a pool on his shirt.
They were asked to hold on to the rails below deck, or wrap themselves to them with thick cotton rope. A shot rang out above them. Somebody cried for his mother as the ship scraped past the towers and continued to sink.
It crashed on its side. Sume shut her eyes, smelling smoke and piss and metal, oil, fire, and smoke. Her ears grated and her lungs began to tighten. She thought she had passed out, but then somebody streaked past her and she undid the rope and crawled out of the wreckage before she lost consciousness. Somebody grabbed her arm, pulling her out. It was a woman, garbed in a Dageian soldier’s outfit. “Talk to me,” she said.
“I’m fine,” Sume coughed. “There’s children in there.”
“Officer As’ondaro!” she called out. “That hole!”
A man, another soldier, went in, tearing through the wreckage with his hands. He managed to drag out two bodies. The woman left Sume, her run slowing to a walk when both began to cough.
She remembered Kefier and looked up. The ship was a burning wreck, and there was no way for her to see where the bridge had been. Surely the mage could’ve protected him?
She wanted to stay there until she caught sight of him, but another soldier ushered her away from the wreckage and out on the street. There she stood until she heard someone talk to her, in clear Jinan, “You must be disappointed at what Dageis has to offer.”
Sume turned to see a woman dressed in blue robes and a blue hat. A memory flashed in her mind: a woman on a beach in Gaspar, holding a dead or dying girl in her lap.
“Don’t I know you?” she asked.
The woman was silent for a moment, regarding her. “I’m not sure…”
“At the lake, in Enji.”
Her eyes flashed. Another moment, and then she nodded. “I see. Yes. You’re that woman. Enosh’s…”
Sume flushed. “I have a name.”
“Don’t we all?” She tapped her cap. “Sumi, wasn’t it?”
“Sume.”
The woman smirked. “What are you doing here?”
Sume regarded her. The fact that she was here, and not dead or rotting in a dungeon somewhere, spoke volumes. Kefier had been concerned about her when they left; Bannal had been defeated, and she was one of his. Also, she called him Enosh, and not Ylir. “You know where he is.”
The woman’s face was straight. “Perhaps.”
“I was told he was in Dageis—here in Bardes, in fact. I need to speak with him. He has a daughter. He has never seen her, but she is strong in the agan, and she needs his help. That beast…”
The woman’s face remained unflinching, but her eyes widened a little. “I may know where to find him. A daughter, you say? Does he know?”
“He…” Sume bit her lip. “He had the opportunity to. He chose not to take it.”
“So you never told him.”
“Did I need to? He didn’t come for me out of love for myself. Why chain myself to a man who couldn’t do that, child or not?”
“My mother felt the same way,” the woman mused. “Well, let’s go.”
“But my companion, in the ship…” Sume faltered, thinking she caught sight of Kefier walking from the wreckage. The mage had a hand on his elbow. She called out. Kefier looked at her and shook his head before allowing the mage to lead him away.
She heard the woman clear her throat. “We can come back. He’s not far from here.”
“All right,” she murmured.
Not far was a bit of an exaggeration, if only because the woman, who called herself Sapphire, did not talk very much, and Sume couldn’t hear herself think beyond her heartbeat. What was she going to tell Enosh when she saw him? She had never imagined she would ever seek him out like this.
It wasn’t that she had never dreamed he would return. Particularly in the days when she first began to feel Rosha move inside her, she had wondered what it would be like if he showed up one day, laid his hands and ear on her belly, and listened in wonder. But day-to-day realities had made a sceptic out of her, and after Rosha was born, Kefier had taken up the mantle of father with such care and joy that she had actually forgotten about Enosh for a while.
Sume saw him before Sapphire did. Her insides began to knot. He was leaning over a storefront, pointing at something through the glass. There was a woman with him and he had his hand around her waist.
Her plan of calmly going up to him and initiating a discussion concerning the welfare of their daughter dissipated. She ran to him. He looked up. She slapped him.
There was an immediate, palpable silence, followed by a sound that turned out to be Sapphire attempting not to laugh.
The woman unwrapped her arms around Enosh, though the smile on her face didn’t go away. “Another one of yours?” she asked.
He seemed to recover his wits fast enough to smile back. “Oh, my dear, you know you’re the only one.”
“You honestly believe that tripe?” Sume asked.
The woman shrugged. “Not really.”
Enosh blanched. “What do you mean, not really?”
Sapphire chose this time to approach them. “As amusing as this has been, I believe that this woman has some news to deliver. Keeper Ceres, perhaps you can keep your hands off him long enough for us to finish our preparations. The two officers are occupied with a fire at the station. An airship crashed.”
“Was that what that sound was?” Ceres asked. “Oh, dear. Now I don’t know what to do. I suppose I should help out there, but this would be too entertaining to miss.”
“The man is predictable,” Sapphire drawled. “I’m sure there will be other opportunities to see him embarrassed.”
“You two…” Enosh started.
“We’re going,” Ceres said, drawing away from him with a twirl. She flashed Sume ano
ther smile before trotting after Sapphire.
Sume caught her breath and realized that Enosh was now looking at her. She couldn’t read his expression, though she caught the familiar tinge of irritation across his brows. “Whatever it is, just know that I don’t have too long,” Enosh said, at length. “We have a ship to catch tomorrow. So. Tell me.”
“Here?”
He frowned. “There’s a restaurant right around the corner…”
“We can talk there,” she said. “And you can buy. After all these years, it’s the least you can do.”
Kefier watched the mage walk to the other side of the table while trying, very hard, not to betray the panic in his eyes. The man seemed all but oblivious to his discomfort. He pulled out a piece of paper from the shelves behind him and sighed. “I think we have a problem here.”
“We do?”
The mage sat down, pressed his hands together, and blinked. “The half-potent enchantments on your shoulder, plus the fact that you’re walking around like a free man…I’ve met many an escapee in my time, but none who would have willingly stepped forward like you did.” He sighed. “We would be dead if you hadn’t, but you can see my dilemma here.”
“Actually, I can’t.”
“Sit down.” He pushed a chair towards Kefier, who obliged him. “I used to work for the Thrall Regulation Council. Believe me, I’ve heard every excuse on the book. Tell me the truth: who was your master, and how did you escape?”
“I was bought,” Kefier said. “He didn’t need a slave. He took me to Kago and I became my own man.”
“That sounds like an odd thing to do. You’re still young—that couldn’t have been cheap.”
“No. It wasn’t.”
The man tapped the paper. He was old enough to have greying hair, but no more than that. “Did he tell you why?”
Kefier closed his eyes for a moment. He must’ve asked Oji about it before, but for such an honest man, when it came to that matter he was evasive. It was never a topic he found comfortable.
He could still remember seeing him standing in the market stall at the docks of Lon Basden with Gaven, Aden, and Rokarsh, laughing about something. He didn’t stop laughing even when his eyes fell on Kefier, but something about that sight seemed to have taken him aback. Was it only because he was the only boy on that chain? Sume had mentioned Dai; did Oji already know about his son when he first laid eyes on Kefier? It would’ve been about the right time.
“I think I reminded him of his son,” Kefier said. “I was still a boy the last time I was here.”
“It is an old rune,” the mage murmured, writing something on the paper. The mage pulled out a flask from under his table, uncorked it, and took a drink. After a moment, he sighed. “I’m required to report you. You understand, don’t you? You should’ve stayed in Kago. There, the council wouldn’t give a damn. Pardon my language, but after all that your friend did to get you out, why the fuck would you come back?”
“His niece needed help.”
The mage blinked at him. “Ah, fuck,” he said again, and took another swig. Afterwards, he placed the flask on the edge of the desk and began to drum his fingers across his knee.
“This help,” he said, after a while, “it requires a mage?”
When Kefier didn’t answer, the man shrugged. “You don’t have to hide that part. We’re in Dageis. You can get good doctors in Cael City or Hafod, even Baidh. But there is one thing we have that you can’t get anywhere else, and that’s people skilled in the agan. Why else would you brave a long journey and imminent capture?” He gave a mirthless smile. “What’s wrong with the girl?”
“Her skills have just woken up. She’s only five years old.”
“Interesting.” The man paused again. Kefier wondered if he was being deliberate or if he really was thinking things through. Sympathy was not a trait he associated with Dageian mages. He wondered if the man could snap his fingers and pulverize him, the way Sapphire had always claimed she could. He had never really seen it in action—he always had the nagging doubt that it was even possible. How dangerous was a mage if you flipped a desk on top of him before he had the chance to cast a spell? He glanced at the window and was almost tempted to try.
“Do you know why I started working for the airships?” the mage asked, breaking into Kefier’s train of thought.
The man didn’t wait for him to reply and walked towards the window to slam the shutters close. “Airships work without the need to draw agan from a living thing. They’re connected to the agan through an intricate system of channels that begin in Drusgaya, from which a mage can draw from, if everything works well. That’s what makes them so slow and vulnerable to attack, unlike the naval fleet. I know all the rites, but I’m not the kind of man who liked chasing down people with the misfortune of having been born with the agan in the wrong caste. I feel the same way about slaves.” He looked almost pleased with himself for saying that.
Kefier tried not to show the distaste on his face. “Does that mean you’re letting me go?”
“What? Oh, no. No. There lies my dilemma. I can’t just let you walk out of here. Half the people in the bloody ship—the ones who survived, that is—would’ve seen me with you. If you disappear now...” He shook his head. “I didn’t know that my companion would go and have his heart break down on us. He died and nearly took all of us with him. You know? I have a family to feed, too.”
Kefier wasn’t sure what the man was trying to get at. Was he trying to convince himself that he was kind, after what he was about to do? His mind, once again, considered the possibility of escape. Perhaps if he avoided the ensuing blast, it would burn the office down and he would get away. Was the man a fire-mage? Was that even a word?
He noticed the mage walking towards the door and stiffened, thinking maybe that now that his back was turned to him, he could throw something at it. But the mage called out to someone and then turned before Kefier could decide what to throw. He gave a thin smile.
A moment later, a soldier appeared at the doorway. He was tall, with the dark colouring that marked him as non-Dageian by descent.
“Officer Daro will take care of you,” the mage said, returning to his desk. “He will turn you over to the proper authorities by the docks.”
“So sorry about this,” Daro said, clasping two manacles over his wrists. “He explained to me what had happened. You saved all those lives. A poor reward for such an act.”
“Officer…” the mage started, a note of warning in his tone.
Daro gave a huff under his breath. “You’re right, of course. We don’t want any trouble.”
He led him out on the street and clapped him lightly on the back. “Of course, if you could find the papers your friend was given when he purchased you, we could file for your freedom under the proper authorities. It would be very expensive. Lots of scribes and hearings involved.”
Kefier didn’t reply. There would be no point in trying to explain to the man that he didn’t think Oji purchased him legally at all. They had kept him in the dark during those days, but he knew that Oji had gotten into a lot of trouble for it, that the client whose money he stole had barged into the compound, wanting recompense. He wondered why he had never been seized and returned to Dageis in an attempt to get that coin back. Why had Baeddan let him run with the group and never once commented about it? Had Gaven’s hostility towards him been an indication of the difficulties his arrival had spawned?
A woman arrived, her face streaked with soot. The soldier grinned. “Your face is dirty, Prefect Mahe.”
“Then get me a towel,” she snapped. She glanced at Kefier. “This the man?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How inconvenient. But I suppose we’re still soldiers of the Empire.” She gave him a sour look. “Are you from Gorent, too?”
“What do you mean, too?” he asked.
Someone else answered for the woman. He heard someone curse in half-Gasparian, half-Jinsein, and turned to see a face that made hi
m want to crawl into a tree hollow and die.
“Sapphire,” he murmured.
“You,” she said. She snorted and glanced at the soldiers. “Him and his companion are old friends of Enosh.” She gave Kefier another look. “If we could have him accompany us during our travels, that would be most useful for our endeavour.”
“Why?” Prefect Mahe asked.
“I’m still stuck on the Enosh has friends part,” Daro admitted.
“I’ll explain later,” Sapphire said. “But he will cooperate.”
Kefier sighed. “If she says it like that, do I have a choice?”
Mahe nodded at Daro, who undid the manacles with a touch. Kefier stepped back, rubbing his wrists.
“So Enosh is with you,” he said, looking at Sapphire.
“He’s with Sume right now,” she said. She gave him an odd look. “We could go meet them, if you want.”
“I don’t want,” he murmured. “But that thing about choices again…”
“Oh, poor you,” Sapphire said, in a tone that sounded anything but sincere.
Enosh ordered a leg of roast pork, steamed vegetables, and a lot of wine. He didn’t say anything until the wine came, and then that was only to thank the waiter so he could start sipping it while staring at the woman over the rim of the glass. She was fidgeting. Did she normally fidget? He couldn’t remember. She was a memory from beyond the fog of the dungeons and he didn’t know what to make of her.
“You look well,” he said, after he had enough wine on an empty stomach to unhinge his jaw. He played with the napkin on the table. “You know, considering.”
“Considering what?” There was ice in her tone.
He cleared his throat and tried to backtrack. He was not used to dealing with women who were angry with him. If a relationship of his played out long enough for him to worry about that, he would ask Jarche to send them flowers, maybe jewellery, and then wait for them to send him a letter or never speak to them again. And then something clicked in his brain, and he considered why she was the one getting mad at him. Wasn’t she the one who ran off with someone else? His men had confirmed that she was pregnant when she left Aret-ni.
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