City of Wind (Steel and Fire Book 4)

by Jordan Rivet

  The most peculiar expression crossed Latch’s face. Siv frowned.

  “They don’t have magic, do they?”

  Latch didn’t answer.

  And another piece of Latch’s puzzle whirred into place.

  “Wait a minute.” Siv leapt to his feet and began pacing back and forth across the small room. “You asked me if Fire can beat Watermight. But you weren’t talking about Pendark.” He stopped and stared at Latch for a moment. The Soolen met his eyes stonily. “Are you saying there’s Watermight in Soole? It’s close enough to the sea. I suppose you could have secret vents.”

  Latch maintained his sullen silence. Siv resumed his pacing. There was one more missing detail. Pendarkans, despite their famed violence and ambition, had never tried to take over any of the northern lands because Watermight was too unstable to be moved long distances. That meant . . .

  “You can transport it!” He whirled to face Latch. “Your father figured out a way to bring Watermight north and used it to conquer Trure!”

  Latch’s mouth tightened. Then he nodded.

  Siv could hardly believe it. He knew there had been a reason his grandfather’s army was defeated so quickly. But this? This was insane. This meant Watermight and Fire could even now be clashing on the battlefield in Trure.

  “Can you do it yourself? Are you a blasted Waterworker?”

  Latch sighed. “It’s a family trait. I didn’t choose it.”

  No wonder Latch’s father had sent mercenaries after him in Fork Town. He must know how to transport the Watermight. That secret would be even more valuable than the life of his prodigal son. Commander Brach might have let Latch go his own way if he didn’t carry such vital information.

  “If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you,” Latch said.

  “You can’t just sit on this secret,” Siv said. “This is bigger than . . . than . . . I can’t even think of anything this big.”

  “I’m not telling you how to do it. You realize your people are fighting against mine now, don’t you?”

  “Yours invaded first,” Siv said. “But I don’t want my people trying to expand Vertigon’s boundaries, and I certainly don’t want a bunch of Pendarkan Waterworkers joining the fray. You’ve told me before you don’t think your father should have done it with Soole either. We have to make things right again.”

  “Do what you want,” Latch said. “I don’t want to be involved.”

  “You have to be. You can’t just look the other way after what your father has done. You have a chance to stop him.” Siv sat and began putting on his boots. “I’m not letting my people continue this Fire Weapon insanity.”

  “It’s not my problem,” Latch said.

  “You’re worried about your father,” Siv said, waving a boot at him. “I know you are. If I take back my kingdom, I can call back the Fireworkers. They’ll kill him if I don’t.”

  “Don’t underestimate the strength of my father’s Watermight arsenal.”

  “He’s already torn apart my grandfather’s army,” Siv said. “I get that he’s dangerous. But Trure had no way to fight back. The Fireworkers will do more damage before the end, to your people and to themselves. It’s up to us to stop this war.”

  Latch was quiet for a long time.

  “I’ll think about it,” he said at last. “But you have to swear not to tell anyone.”

  Siv halted. Could he promise that? This secret was worth more than both of their lives, and he didn’t want to make promises about it lightly. But if he and Latch were going to save their peoples from destruction, they had to be straight with each other.

  “I’ll be as quiet as a morrinvole.”

  Latch nodded then rolled over with his back to Siv. Somehow, Siv doubted he would go back to sleep.

  He finished dressing and collecting his knives, his head buzzing with all this new information. With Latch’s knowledge, Siv and Dara could bring Watermight to fight against Rafe Ruminor’s Fire. Even if Dara wasn’t as strong as her father, maybe she really could do something with both powers to overcome him. Now that the Lantern Maker had invaded, it was more urgent than ever to get her out of Pendark. They needed to get to Trure before there was nothing left but ash.

  27.

  The Lighthouse

  A familiar squawking drew Dara’s attention when she and Siln returned to the manor house after another day of patrols. Rumy perched atop the gates like an overgrown gargoyle. They had kept the cur-dragon out of sight as much as possible since their arrival in the city. Too many Pendarkans would happily capture and sell him. He was sure to fetch a high price beyond the Bell Sea.

  “I still can’t believe how large he is,” Siln said as they entered the gates and Rumy flew down to meet them on the other side. “Are you sure he’s an ordinary cur-dragon?”

  “No, I’m not sure.” Dara scratched Rumy’s scaly head, feeling the warmth emanating from his body. He scratched at her boots with his blunt claws, drawing her attention to a parchment tied discreetly to his ankle.

  “I’m going to spend a little time with him,” she said to Siln. “I won’t leave the manor grounds.”

  “See that you don’t,” Siln said. “You’re in as much danger from the other Waterworkers as you would be from Wyla if you cross her again.”

  “I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Siln said. “She taught me that lesson long ago. It wasn’t pleasant.”

  Dara wandered along the garden path with Rumy at her side while Siln went into the house. Guards patrolled the walls. Trying to leave would be foolish even if Siln weren’t watching from the windows.

  When they reached a hedge she could comfortably hide behind—the same one Siv had used the day he threw pebbles at her window—she sat down and pulled Rumy’s head onto her lap. He snorted and purred as she scratched him under the chin with one hand and pulled the note from his ankle with the other. The note was written in a familiar elegant hand.

  D,

  I didn’t think it would be possible to miss you any more than I did after my unplanned departure from Trure. Shows what I know. It’s excruciating to be in the same city when I can’t see you. Not to be too sentimental or anything, but I can hardly sleep for thinking about you. I want to see your intense eyes and touch your beautiful mouth. Honestly, if all I could do was look at you, I’d probably die happy.

  I’ve learned some important information that could change everything. Can you meet me by the beach where you learned to swim tomorrow after nightfall?

  I remain yours for as long as I draw breath.

  S

  P.S. You should burn this letter when you’re done. Preserving my eloquent prose wouldn’t be wise in our current predicament. I swear to write you better love letters when all this is behind us. Also, did I mention I love you?

  Dara traced every word with her fingers before asking Rumy to burn the parchment. She couldn’t risk sending him back out with her answer. Siln would watch for something like that. Siv would go to the beach even if she didn’t respond.

  The note turned to ash in her palm, and heat trickled through her body. She held onto the dragon Fire as she considered the message, enjoying the way it flickered within her, more wild and unpredictable than the Fire of the mountain. Siv’s note had been oddly spare of details. The information must be important indeed if he’d use Rumy to carry it but wouldn’t actually write it in the note.

  She wouldn’t risk sneaking out ordinarily, but tomorrow night, Wyla and Siln planned to attack Brendle of the Boundary District, a powerful Waterworker who’d raided the new vent last night. Dara was originally supposed to accompany them, but Wyla had changed her mind that very morning. Dara would have the night off.

  She drew Rumy’s Fire from her body, letting the liquid gold pool in her hands. Meeting Siv would be risky, but she couldn’t stand not seeing him anymore. He lived within walking distance, yet it felt as though she were back in the wilderness, wondering if she’d ever get to see him again. She had to go.
She had to tell Siv to leave the city. They walked a dangerous tightrope here, and he couldn’t stay any longer.

  Still, she couldn’t help wondering if the information involved a way to free her. She Worked the Fire into a wheel and let it spin across the garden, feeling a burst of hope for the first time in a long while.

  Vine agreed to cover for her the following evening.

  “Are you sure I can’t retrieve the information?” she said. “Wyla doesn’t care what I do.”

  “He must have asked for me for a reason,” Dara said.

  “I can think of a reason or two, honey, but that doesn’t mean it’s wise,” Vine said.

  “Wyla and Siln are busy,” Dara said. “I might not get another chance to see him.”

  It probably would be better if Vine went in her place, but Dara hadn’t been able to sleep the previous night at the thought of her rendezvous with Siv. She had to take the risk, or she might combust for not seeing him.

  When darkness fell at last, Dara armed herself with her Savven blade and a hefty measure of Rumy’s Fire before slipping over the manor-house walls. The guards weren’t as diligent as usual with the lady of the house out for the evening. They were playing cards when Dara scaled the tree beside the wall and dropped quietly over the side.

  The Fire hummed under her skin as she crept through the streets. Few people were out this evening. Most thought it prudent to stay indoors while the Waterworkers warred over the districts. Still, she pulled a cloak over her head in case anyone recognized her.

  The hot night reminded her that it would be summer soon. With the warmth of the evening, the weight of her cloak, and the Fire running in her veins, Dara was surprised she wasn’t glowing. Heat didn’t affect her the same way it did other people, but she was still sweating by the time she reached the coast.

  The rocky beach was deserted, and sentries strode back and forth along the walls of the nearby manor house. The Waterworker who lived there—one of the port lords—was taking no chances with everything happening in the city. Dara waited in the deep shadows beneath a stilt house by the beach for Siv to arrive. She was sure he would be there even though she hadn’t sent Rumy back to him with her answer. He’d have to hurry, though. As much as she was looking forward to this reunion, she couldn’t stay long. She intended to be asleep in her bed by the time Wyla and Siln returned to the manor.

  Darkness surrounded her, tense and eerie. Sweat crawled down her scalp. The gentle waves muted the city noises. Pendark felt as if it were poised on a cliff, waiting to see whether or not it would fall.

  A hand landed on Dara’s shoulder. Her Savven blade was halfway out of the sheath before she confirmed that it was Siv. She released the sword with a soft rasp. Siv put a finger to his lips and nodded toward the sentries guarding the nearby manor. Another pair strolled along the waterline, watching for threats from the night-dark waves. She hadn’t noticed those two before. Siv pointed to the far end of the beach about halfway to where the shoreline curved around to encircle the Gulf. A long, narrow stretch of land reached a finger out into the water. It appeared to be a rocky jetty. Dara nodded, preparing to follow him out there.

  Before they moved from their hiding spot, Siv seized her jaw in his hand and kissed her. Her body blazed like the sun as his lips met hers. Firelord, she had missed this. She clutched the front of his coat, barely able to think for the heat and the Fire spiking through her. He released her too soon, grinning like a schoolboy, and set off into the darkness. She followed on shaky legs.

  The beach was longer than Dara remembered. Lone figures appeared sometimes, picking up shells or walking amongst the beachfront stilt houses. The two sentries still patrolled the waterline. Dara and Siv flitted carefully through the shadows, hiding under the stilt houses to avoid being spotted. Dara found herself assessing the larger patches of shadow to see if they could stop for another quick kiss. Or a slow kiss. She shook her head. That’s not why you’re here.

  Siv clearly had a specific destination in mind. When they reached the jetty, he paused for a few heartbeats to make sure no one was coming then darted across the beach to the rocky structure. He clambered up the slick stones and started out onto the causeway.

  Dara hesitated. Wyla’s mission tonight should keep her occupied, but Wyla’s house was relatively close to their beach meeting place. If she went out onto that long jetty, she could activate the curse in her arm and alert Wyla that she’d left the house.

  As if sensing her concern, Siv came back to her and whispered, “The spot is within the city boundaries. I checked.” He brushed a kiss on her ear before heading out onto the jetty.

  Dara followed. She had nearly forgotten about whatever information Siv needed to impart. She needed him, and every brush of his lips on her skin and touch of their hands reminded her of it. Their time apart had only intensified her longing. She wanted nothing more than to disappear into the dark with him.

  They walked in silence. A sliver moon rose above the city, and the sea wind blew sharply across their cheeks. It cooled Dara’s face, doing nothing to dispel the heat building within her body. A few more seconds, and they would finally be alone together. Her breath quickened.

  A dark shape emerged ahead. A slim tower jutted out from the end of the jetty. As they drew nearer, Dara realized it was an old lighthouse. A much larger one overlooked the channel where the Gulf opened into the Bell Sea. A brilliant Fire Lantern—one of the largest ever exported from Vertigon—warned ships away from the rocks peppering the mouth of the Gulf. This smaller tower must have been used for a similar purpose once, but now the glass-encased top was dark.

  “Let me check inside,” Siv said. He crept to an opening in the base of the old tower. The wooden door had mostly disintegrated, and more pieces fell away as he pushed it open and disappeared inside.

  Dara waited, hand on her Savven blade, and studied the barren strip of land around the tower. It felt as if they had left the city, but her arm felt completely normal. Siv must be right about the boundaries of Pendark. Still, she felt as if she could breathe a little easier here, cooled by the wind rushing across the gulf, sweeping away the cloying scents of the city.

  Siv poked his head through the doorway and called out in a normal voice, “All clear. You coming?”

  “I can’t stay long.”

  “I know. But it has been too long since I got to spend time with you. I thought we could check this place out.” Siv took her hand and drew her through the doorway. “I’ve been told it’s very romantic.”

  “In a dark and scary sort of way,” Dara said. “Good thing I brought a light.”

  She eased the Fire from her veins to pool in her palm then formed it into a glowing lantern shape and lifted it into the air. The Firelight cast a golden hue over the inside of the tower, revealing broken furniture and a pattern of mildew on the walls.

  “Maybe it’s more romantic in the dark,” Siv said, wrinkling his nose at the mildew.

  A ladder on one wall led into darkness above them. Dara sent her Fire slowly up its length until it reached an opening at the top.

  “Shall we see if it’s nicer upstairs?”

  “I’ll go first,” Siv said, advancing to the ladder.

  “You don’t want to risk injury,” Dara said. “You’re a professional athlete now.”

  “I guess I am.” Siv laughed. “And you’re a very important person to the powers that be. Look at us changing places.”

  Dara grinned. “Are you going up there or not?”

  Siv climbed carefully, the ladder creaking under his weight. Just before he reached the opening, Dara sent the Firelight through ahead of him. She wished she could use it to project her field of vision somehow. She suspected it was possible to do something like that with Watermight, but Wyla hadn’t taught her yet. Fire had greater tangible advantages given how transportable and versatile it was, but Watermight had an interesting relationship with the mental and physical aspects of the human body. It could clean and seal wounds and take root
in one’s bones to secure a bargain. She wouldn’t be surprised if it could be used to enhance sight too.

  Why are you thinking about the Work now? She used to get like this with dueling sometimes. If she let it, the Work would consume her. She had much more pleasant things to focus on for once.

  Siv scanned the upper level of the tower then pulled himself through the hole.

  “Floor seems sturdy enough,” he called.

  The rungs felt rough under Dara’s hands as she climbed the ladder. Every movement echoed strangely in the tall, narrow space. She clambered through the opening to the upper level where Siv waited. The circular room was empty of furniture, save for a solitary chair by the far wall, leaving plenty of space for them to move around comfortably.

  A bronze apparatus hung from the ceiling. It must have once held the light for the lighthouse, which could have been a Fire Lantern or a more mundane flame. Dara floated her conjured Fire Lantern up to rest on the bronze casing. They wouldn’t be here long enough for it to matter if anyone noticed the glimmer at the top of the tower.

  High windows were set in the top of the wall. Dara stood on her toes to see out of them. The windows were open to the air, and glass crunched under her boots as she moved closer. Glass shards clung to the window frames as well. It must have been a long time since they were broken, perhaps blown in during a storm.

  The tower offered a magnificent view of the inky surface of the Gulf. The water roiled, restless in the wind. Pendark glittered beyond it, looking remarkably calm despite the turmoil of recent weeks. Within a few seconds of watching it, Dara spotted glimmers of silvery light where Watermight skirmishes must be breaking out. She wondered if one of the contests involved Wyla and Siln. The thought reminded her that she shouldn’t linger.

  “What did you want to tell me?” she asked Siv, who had come over to join her. He didn’t have to stand on his toes to admire the view.