by Caitlin Seal
No. She couldn’t die here. After all she’d been through, she wouldn’t let a little water stop her. Naya forced herself to stop flailing. She drew in aether. The energy was more diffuse here, but the ocean was full of life and soon it swirled cool and ponderous up to meet her. She concentrated on her limbs, willing them to be solid, imagining the water churning as she forced it aside with each powerful stroke. When her head finally broke the surface, she found she’d drifted almost twenty feet from the Gallant’s side. The lights of the shore looked tiny compared to the vast darkness of the open ocean beyond the harbor.
Naya turned away from that darkness. Her father had ensured she knew how to swim before he’d allowed her to join him aboard the Gallant, and soon her arms and legs fell into the familiar rhythm. The moon had fully risen and the activity on the docks quieted by the time Naya reached the shore. She crouched on a narrow strip of pebbled beach in the shadow of the cliffs, searching for any sign that she’d been spotted. When no cry of alarm went up, she unwrapped her bundle and got dressed.
Despite her careful work, the clothes she’d brought were damp and rumpled. Hopefully the damage wouldn’t be too noticeable in the dark. Once dressed, she stood quietly with her fingertips pressed to her face. Her skin softened and her features shifted subtly—broader cheeks, darker eyes, hair a little less curly than her own. It was tricky without a mirror, but by blending Felicia’s features with her own, she could give herself a face she was sure no one in the city would recognize. She smiled to herself, imagining that this face belonged to a girl who could have been Felicia’s sister in another life. That girl was bold and joyful, with a big family she knew she could trust. She was the kind of girl who would walk the streets at night unafraid, not because she knew how to fight but simply because nothing bad had ever happened to make her afraid.
Naya’s smile faded as the reality of what she had to do settled back in. Still, as she started walking, she held on to that image of a life that might have been, wrapping it around herself like a warm cloak. She stuck close to the cliffs, trying to seem small and inconspicuous. A young woman in rumpled clothes riding up the lifts at this hour was bound to draw attention. Instead she turned onto one of the narrow stairways that zigzagged up the cliff. She took the steps two at a time, barely touching the safety rope that protected travelers from a deadly fall onto the rocks below.
From the top of the stairs, it took only a few minutes to reach her destination. Even in the dark, the route was eerily familiar.
The captain’s house.
Captain Hal Garth’s house stood on a street corner in one of the city’s nicer neighborhoods. The houses here were grand, but they lacked the sense of stately age that surrounded the palace districts. Naya felt a chill as she approached the building. The windows were all dark behind drawn shutters and the hedges framing the front steps were more ragged than she remembered. She hadn’t thought about what might have happened to the place since her father’s death. He would have surely filed death papers, but Naya had never seen them. And somehow she doubted such documents would be respected given his status as a traitor to the Crown.
Naya glanced up at the stars. She still had more than an hour before the appointed time. She closed her eyes and reached out into the aether. Most of the street had the quiet, hazy feel of people sleeping. She couldn’t sense anything coming from her father’s house. Good. If this was a trap, then it seemed Celia hadn’t arrived to set it yet.
Naya crossed the street cautiously. The front door’s frame had been cracked, and a new lock was bolted onto it. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then slipped the tip of her finger into the lock. After a moment of wiggling her finger up and down, she felt the tumblers fall into place. She twisted, ignoring the uncomfortable pressure of the lock’s metal against her finger as it clicked open.
Stepping into the front hall was like stepping back into a nightmare version of her childhood. Light from the streetlamps leaked through the cracks in the shutters. It gave just enough illumination for her to see that the house had been ransacked. Overturned and broken furniture cluttered the front hall, partially blocking the stairs to the second floor. Had robbers done this, or was it the work of overeager city guards hunting for evidence against a traitor? She crouched behind an overturned chair and drew in more aether, waiting. The house remained silent, and no new emotions swirled through the aether. After a moment she stood and began picking her way farther inside.
The air felt heavy, and there was a thin layer of dust on the floor. Whatever had happened here, it had been some time since anyone had been in the house. Slowly, she walked through the rooms on the ground floor, trying to make sense of the mess. In the kitchen, smashed dishes lay scattered outside empty cupboards. Someone had pulled the books off the sitting room shelves and left them lying about with pages torn and spines broken.
Miss Vani, the middle-aged woman her father had kept on as housekeeper and cook, would have been aghast to see the place like this. What had happened to her? Naya hoped that she’d been able to find new work and that the stain of Hal Garth’s treason hadn’t spread to her as well. Miss Vani had always kept herself apart from Naya and her father, but she’d also made sure to leave out a honey cake or some other treat for whenever Naya came home from her classes. Naya felt a stab of guilt that she hadn’t given any thought to the woman’s fate before now.
She headed upstairs and was just about to open the door to her old bedroom when she felt something stir in the aether below her. She crouched down and breathed in more aether. Closing her eyes, she sensed a sharp, nervous prickle that mingled with a heavy shroud of weariness. Underneath those was a cool thread of focused calm.
Celia had come.
Naya crept partway down the stairs, her bare feet silent on the dusty wood. She heard a soft click and then a creak as someone opened the back door into the kitchen. Her impression of the aether outside the house was fuzzier, but it didn’t seem there were any other people out there. Strange. Had Celia come alone?
Naya drew her knife, then descended the rest of the stairs. She heard a tink as something disturbed the mess of broken pottery in the kitchen. She tightened her grip on the knife, then rushed through the kitchen doorway. A figure leapt back, shoes crunching on a broken plate. Naya could feel the shards under her own feet, but they couldn’t cut her.
“Don’t move!” Naya ordered.
The figure slowly raised two empty hands. The kitchen window was behind her, leaving her features in shadow. Still, Naya recognized the same lean frame and confident stance that had caught her eye at the ball. Celia wiggled the fingers of one hand and then reached slowly toward her side.
“I said don’t move!” Naya took a step forward, brandishing the knife.
“Relax, girl,” Celia said. “I’m just getting us some light.”
Naya hesitated, and Celia pulled something small and round from her pocket. She gave it a twist and light blossomed from the runes around the edge of the disk. In its blue-white glow, the lines around Celia’s mouth and eyes looked deeper than ever. Her cheeks were sunken and her skin pale, as though she hadn’t been eating well. Still, her dark eyes glimmered with the same cool intelligence Naya remembered from her time in Belavine. “Blue, I presume?” Celia asked.
Naya nodded, then let her disguise slip away. A confusing tangle of emotions tightened her chest. Anger at the woman who’d betrayed her. Fear at what Celia’s presence here could mean. And, strangely, relief that Celia hadn’t died that night in the tunnels. Naya already had enough blood on her hands.
“You’re early,” Celia said, setting the light disk on the counter next to her.
“So are you.” Naya glanced at the door behind Celia.
“I’m alone,” Celia said, following her gaze. “Don’t worry. There won’t be any Talmiran soldiers barging in to interrupt us.”
“There’d better not be. I’ve got half the G
allant’s crew waiting just a block away. They’ll come if you try something.”
Celia’s eyes narrowed, and a hum of tension rose in her aether. Then she seemed to relax. “No. I don’t think you do. I taught you better than this, girl. Don’t tell lies that are too big for you.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Of course you are. You’re a decent spy, but you don’t have the money or the presence to inspire that kind of loyalty.”
Naya clenched her jaw. “What are you doing here, Celia? Did Queen Lial order you to contact me?”
“Queen Lial? Hardly. She doesn’t know I’m back in Talmir, and I hope to keep things that way.”
Naya snorted. “Haven’t you heard? You shouldn’t tell lies that are too big for you. I saw you hiding among the servants at the ball.”
Celia pursed her lips. “I was there. But the queen doesn’t know as much as she thinks she does about what goes on in her palace.”
Naya shook her head. “I almost caught up with you at the ball, but then Lady Elv blocked me so you could escape. I know you’re working with her and the rest of the spies under the trade master.”
“You know that, do you?” Celia asked, bitter scorn seeping into her aether. “In that case you know things I do not. Because so far as I know, Lady Elv and her ilk have no idea who I am. I didn’t even know who they were until recently.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Hardly. The branches of the Talmiran spy network are kept separate. It’s a safety measure intended to keep disasters like what happened in Belavine from undermining all our resources. Even if a spy is captured and tortured, they can’t expose information they don’t have. Valn recruited me directly, so I never had any contact with other spies in Talmir.”
“Then why did Lady Elv interrupt me right as I went looking for you?”
Celia lifted one hand in an uncertain gesture. “My guess? She probably had orders to watch you—and to coax you into lashing out if she could. Anything you do to embarrass the Ceramoran delegation only strengthens Talmir’s position.”
Naya stared at Celia, trying to judge if she was telling the truth. The timing had seemed too convenient for coincidence. But perhaps Lady Elv had seen an opportunity when Naya had moved away from Francisco. It was the first time she’d been alone in public. Taken in that light, Celia’s explanation made sense. Queen Lial could have also meant for Lady Elv to unsettle Naya, perhaps hoping it would make her more susceptible to the queen’s threats and demands for information. Games within games. Creator, she was getting sick of these politicians and their schemes. “If you’re not working with the queen, then why did you call me here? What are you even doing in Talmir?”
“I invited you here because I have an offer to make. Information about Valn’s death.”
“Did you kill him?” Naya asked.
“No. But I know who did, and I fear what they might be planning next.”
Naya felt a chill as she thought back to her father’s logbook. His suspicions about Valn. Who else but Valn’s allies would want to kill him? In Talmir at least, the dead couldn’t share their secrets. “Does this have anything to do with Resurgence?”
Celia’s face went suddenly, and carefully, still. “How do you know that name?”
“How do you?” Naya asked.
Perhaps it was the sight of her father’s house torn apart, one more part of who she’d been destroyed. Or maybe it was the sharp salt smell on her clothes, the act of having to sneak into a place she’d once called home. But something inside her stirred, fanning the sense of reckless courage that had driven her from the ship. She met Celia’s eyes. “Whatever information you think you have, I know you don’t plan to just give it to me for free. You need something, and I don’t think you would have contacted me unless you were desperate. So you’ll be the one answering my questions.”
Celia’s lips tightened in a knife-thin smile. “If only Valn had known you had such spine, he never would have dared bring you back.”
Naya waited, refusing to look away. Finally Celia glanced down. “Fine. You’re right. I’ll tell you what I know, but in return I need you to do something.”
“What?”
“I want asylum in Ceramor.”
Naya almost laughed at the absurdity of the request. “Everyone knows you worked for Valn. Why would Ceramor grant you asylum?”
“Because I have information they need. I know what would happen if I tried to go to the Ceramorans directly. I’d be dead or imprisoned within the hour. But you saved Delence’s life. He might listen to my request if it came through you.”
The aether surrounding Celia was heavy with exhaustion, and with a bone-deep fear that made the back of Naya’s neck prickle. Celia had always seemed so calm and confident before. Whatever had happened to her since Belavine, it had shaken her. “Why should I trust you?” Naya asked, shifting her grip so her knife flashed in the dim light.
Celia held her hands palm up as though to emphasize her own lack of weapons. “I know what you are, girl. You can tell I’ve brought no one with me. If I wanted a fight, I wouldn’t have come alone, and I wouldn’t have let you see me coming. Not after last time.”
Naya stretched her senses as far as they would go. Nothing in the sleepy aether surrounding the house suggested Celia was lying. “Is Trade Master Galve part of Resurgence? Was he funding Valn?” Naya asked.
“Galve? No. I doubt he would have approved of Valn’s plans. He doesn’t have the vision for that sort of thing.”
“Then who or what is Resurgence?”
Celia shook her head. “First tell me where you heard that name.”
Naya hesitated, then decided there probably wasn’t much Celia could do with the information. “My father wrote about them. He didn’t find much more than a name before he died, but he thought they were funding Valn in secret.”
“He was right. Resurgence is a shadow organization funding agents spread through Talmir and Ceramor. From what I’ve seen, their goal is to stir up conflict between those two countries. I think they were already supporting Valn before he hired me. I helped expand his information network, gather blackmail, and pass along bribes to various officials among the guard and the Ceramoran elite. From the amount of money he gave me, I always assumed we had the support of the throne, but I was wrong.”
“You really expect me to believe all this?” Naya asked.
Celia leaned forward, her eyes on Naya’s. “I am telling you what I know. What you believe is up to you.”
Where else could all that money have come from? Naya thought back to her meeting with the queen. At first she’d assumed the queen’s questions about Belavine were just for show, an excuse to threaten and intimidate her. But Naya had sensed curiosity in her aether. If Celia was telling the truth, that would make more sense. If Valn wasn’t working for the throne, then he really was a traitor, and the queen would be just as eager as everyone else to uncover his allies’ identities.
“When you were in Ceramor, did Valn ever tell you who was paying for everything?” Naya asked.
“No. I didn’t learn about his source until later. After you and I fought, I used the embassy tunnels to flee the city. I knew I wouldn’t be welcomed back in Talmir. I didn’t have any illusions that my country would protect me after such a conspicuous failure. I planned to head south toward Silmar. But I was stopped by a stranger in one of the smaller towns two days out from Belavine.” A bitter note entered Celia’s voice. “He knew who I was and apparently knew exactly how to find me. He told me he represented Valn’s superiors and that they still had work for me. He gave me money, and instructions on where to cross the Talmiran border and who to meet when I got there.”
“Why did he make you come back?” Naya asked. “Why risk having someone recognize you here?”
“He didn’t say. He just told me that the plan was nearing its conclusi
on and that I was to return to Talmir and await orders. I have family here, a brother. This man knew his name. He promised that so long as I followed orders, no harm would come to him.
“Once I got to the border,” Celia continued, “they arranged for me to enter the palace with the extra servants hired to assist with the Congress. I was told to report anything I learned about the delegates and the status of the negotiations. They’ve given me other tasks as well, mostly minor spy work. Meanwhile I’ve been trying to figure out what’s really going on. Between the attacks on you and Valn’s death, I think the ones who hired me are trying to sabotage the Congress.”
We are the flood. We will wash you away. Naya shivered as the assassin’s words echoed in her mind. “Did Resurgence order Valn’s death?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Who are they?”
Celia smiled grimly. “Trouble. I’ll be happy to share every detail I have as soon as you get a promise of asylum for me and my brother.”
“Fine. I’ll ask.” Something here still wasn’t adding up. Even if Naya trusted Celia’s word, she wasn’t at all sure she could convince Delence to grant her asylum.
Naya drew in aether. The energy around Celia prickled with nervous fear. That certainly fit her story. She’d have to be desperate to ask Naya for help. Maybe Naya could use that. “There’s one more thing I want to know first though. Who gave Valn Lucia’s old journal?”
Celia raised one eyebrow. “He never told me.”
“But you knew about it?”
“I’d seen the journal and I had my suspicions about how Valn had used it. An ordinary wraith wouldn’t have been able to push past the salma wood plate in Delence’s door. Before that, Valn had talked about his plans to create something ‘special’ that would give us an edge the Ceramorans would never expect. Why do you care where he got the journal?”
