City of Wind (Steel and Fire Book 4)

by Jordan Rivet

  “You seen any Fire sorcerers?” asked the younger boy.

  “The tower was empty when we got here,” Siv said. “If there was a Fire sorcerer, he’s long gone.”

  “Too bad,” the boy said.

  “We’d best be getting back to the city.” Siv looped his arm through Dara’s. “Good luck with your investigation.”

  He hurried her past the boys. They kept their faces down and in shadow. With luck, they wouldn’t report back to anyone about the couple they had found at the center of the explosion.

  “Hey! Wait a minute!”

  Dara winced. She felt Siv’s arm tightening around her. Tel caught up to them before they had gone three paces, a shrewd look on his face. “You’re Siv the Slugger, aren’t you?”

  Siv plastered a huge smile on his face. “Why yes, I am.”

  “I’ve seen you fight,” the boy said excitedly. “I saw you in a gutter match against the Rockeater of Soole!”

  “I hope it was fun to watch,” Siv said.

  “I’ll say!” Tel shoved his friend. “Wait ’til we tell our friends we met Siv the Slugger!”

  “Uh, maybe you shouldn’t mention it,” Siv said. Dara could sense the tension in his arm. “It can be like a fun secret.”

  “What fun are secrets? I met Siv the Slugger!”

  Dara tugged urgently on Siv’s arm. They couldn’t linger here. The boys had seen them already. The damage was done. She wondered if they should pay him something so he wouldn’t tell anyone. She was about to suggest as much when Siv saluted the boys and gave them another smile.

  “Well, it was nice to meet you both,” he said. “Careful in that lighthouse. I don’t think the walls are stable.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Bye, Siv the Slugger!”

  Dara and Siv hurried onward toward Pendark, keeping their heads down to avoid being recognized again. More people were venturing out to explore the devastation wrought by her wave.

  “Think we should have paid him to keep quiet?” Dara asked when they were far enough away from the two boys.

  “No,” Siv said quietly. “Those boys will tell their friends what they saw, but it might not occur to them to take the story to anyone more dangerous unless they know the information is valuable.”

  “Let’s hope they’re not already in the payroll of someone dangerous,” Dara said, thinking of Tel’s bright-orange bandana.

  “Yes.”

  “We should split up,” Dara said. “We don’t want anyone seeing us together.”

  “Will you be all right?” Siv looked at her anxiously. “That . . . thing you did couldn’t have been easy.”

  “It’s not far. I have to get back before Wyla does.”

  Siv still didn’t release her arm. His face was cloaked in shadow, and she couldn’t read his expression.

  “That wave,” he said after a minute. “Do you think you could do it again?”

  “Maybe,” Dara said. “I’m not sure why it worked this time. Wyla always tries to get me in the same mindset or emotional state when she wants me to repeat something I’ve done before.”

  “Same mindset, eh? I don’t know about that, but could it be the thing you’ve been looking for: a way to defeat your father?”

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s not coming here, and I can’t take the Watermight there.”

  Siv opened his mouth and closed it again. Once again, she got the sense that there was something he wanted to tell her, but he decided against it.

  “Maybe you could stay with Wyla another few days . . . see whether you can learn to do it again.”

  Dara frowned. “You’re okay with me staying now?”

  “Only for a few days.” Siv looked around swiftly. “I understand you’re doing important work. But be careful.”

  “I will,” Dara said slowly. He seemed to be hiding something, but she couldn’t imagine what it was. And where was the urgency to leave immediately that he’d shown earlier?

  “I’ll make contact again soon,” he said.

  “All right.” Dara kissed his cheek, forcing a cheery tone. “Tonight was fun. We should do it again some time.”

  Siv grinned. “Maybe next time we won’t get interrupted.”

  Dara was still thinking about his words as she made her way through the streets. She needed to isolate exactly what she had done to control the two powers at once. The sheer power of that wave had been nothing short of shocking.

  The houses near the waterline were badly damaged. Sand coated the walls on the sea-facing side, and hundreds of shingles had been torn loose from the roofs. Every window in the path of the wave was empty of glass. Debris from the beach littered the streets for several blocks inland.

  What had been different this time to produce such devastating results? She’d been surprised and afraid, of course, but that often happened when Wyla attacked her during their research session. What else had she been feeling? She blushed at the memory of Siv’s hands trailing across her stomach beneath her shirt, his fingers tracing circles on her back. There had been that. But would that kind of emotion help her bind the two powers together?

  Broken glass crunched in the street as she hurried back to the manor house. She picked her way through an extra large pile of shards, which glittered like diamonds beneath her feet. When she looked up again, Wyla was standing before her.

  29.

  Plans

  SIV went straight to Khrillin’s manor in the Garment District, still a little unsteady on his feet. He had felt surprisingly calm during the attack. He’d known Dara would protect them. But the significance of what she’d done dawned on him as he strode through the aftermath of the wave. Dara had accomplished something no other Wielder could do. She had Wielded Fire and Watermight together, revealing the incredible potential of their union. Dara had power, the kind of power that armies and kings couldn’t replicate. And her power wasn’t just an oddity. It was a weapon.

  They didn’t have a moment to lose. It was stunningly clear to Siv that Dara needed to leave Pendark immediately. Wyla would never let such a valuable weapon slip out of her grasp. And as soon as she learned how to do the trick, she would kill Dara. Wyla wasn’t a teacher or a mad scientist or an artist. She was a woman of power, and she would never let an apprentice challenge her position.

  Well, damned if Siv was going to let that happen. He knew Dara didn’t want him to trust Khrillin. He didn’t intend to tell the man what she could do. That would be just as bad as if Wyla learned the truth. But he also wouldn’t stand idly by while Dara was in peril. He had only suggested they wait a few days to keep her from protesting. He wasn’t waiting even a few hours.

  Siv paused at the gate to the manor. What would happen if Dara returned to Vertigon with that power? It was actually possible now. Latch could teach her to carry the Watermight.

  For the first time, Siv truly pictured it. Dara could wipe out his usurper with a single blow. She could send the marauding Soolen army back where it belonged. She could march the Fireworkers back to their shops on the mountain, never to venture forth again. If he asked, she could obliterate his enemies so thoroughly, they’d never dare challenge him or his family. She would be invincible. She would make him invincible. With her power, they could challenge every army on the continent.

  “Don’t be stupid,” he muttered. “You’re not going to be that kind of king.”

  “What kind of king are you going to be?”

  Siv started as Kres March walked through the gates of Khrillin’s manor.

  “I’m just babbling,” Siv said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Very interesting babble, lad.” Kres stepped closer, ignoring the question. He faced Siv nose to nose, eyes sharp. “Tell me: what kind of king do you intend to be when you return to Vertigon?”

  Siv froze. Kres’s face was always hard to read, and in the darkness, he seemed like nothing more than a pair of glittering eyes in the shadows.

  “Have you been drinking, Kres?”

&nb
sp; The man burst out laughing. Okay, maybe that hadn’t been the best thing to say.

  “Siv lad,” Kres wheezed. “I know everything. A dozen armed men attacked you in my front yard. You didn’t think I’d just forget about it without asking any questions, did you?” Kres chuckled, wiping tears out of his eyes. “Who do you think told Khrillin?”

  Siv blinked. “I thought Dellario—”

  “That buffoon? Yes, he got you the invitation to the party, but he didn’t know anything. He thought you were just a shiny new pen fighter.” Kres dissolved into chuckles once more.

  Siv didn’t speak, not wanting to give anything else away. He still didn’t know why Kres had been at Khrillin’s manor.

  “You and Khrillin have hit it off,” Kres said when he had exhausted his mirth. “I’d say that alone is worth something. Not to mention how I’ve taken you in and protected you as a member of my squad.”

  “I’ll always be grateful,” Siv said slowly, waiting for Kres to get to the point. “You do look out for your team.”

  “Aye,” Kres said. “Between you and Latch, my team has turned out to be quite the retirement plan.”

  Siv let out a breath at last. “You want money.”

  “Of course I want money,” Kres said. “I’ve put away gold from the pen, but I’m getting too old for this. Soon enough, I’ll be done risking my blood for someone else’s entertainment.”

  “What about Latch? You protected him against me for a long time.”

  “I didn’t know your identity then,” Kres said.

  “But you let me fight in the pen still. Whereas Latch—”

  “You are valuable dead or alive—you’d probably be worth more dead, in fact. Latch carries information in that lumpy head of his that will be gone for good if he dies. I’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to make sure it stays attached to his shoulders.”

  Suddenly, Kres’s hand shot out, and he pulled Siv close enough to reveal the lines around his eyes. The whiff of drink on his breath revealed that Siv’s first question hadn’t been so far off after all.

  “I don’t care if it’s you or Latch,” Kres slurred. “I expect to be well taken care of for my troubles.”

  “You will be,” Siv said. “If Khrillin helps me retake my kingdom, I will reward you handsomely for the introduction. Even if he doesn’t, I’ll repay you for your assistance on the road. I can probably offer you a greathouse in Vertigon itself, if you feel like retiring.”

  Kres studied him for a moment. Something flickered in his eyes. If Siv didn’t know better, he’d say Kres looked almost . . . wistful. He wondered how many times people had refused to keep their promises to him before.

  “I’ll take the money.” Kres barked a laugh. “I love this festering cesspool of blood and death. I can speak my name with pride here. Keep your greathouse.”

  “I don’t know how things will turn out,” Siv said. “But if you ever change your mind, I reckon Vertigon could use a knife-fighting league . . . preferably with blunted knives.”

  Kres released Siv’s shirt and straightened the collar for him, chuckling. “Perhaps it could. I’ll consider your offer, lad.”

  “Good night, Kres.” Siv pushed through the gates, leaving Kres humming to himself as he disappeared into the night.

  Siv was admitted to the Waterlord’s study at once. Kres wasn’t the only person who had been drinking here tonight. Khrillin—clad all in blue today—sipped brandy with his feet up on the darkwood desk, eyelids drooping.

  “King Siv!” he called. “Just the man I wanted to see. Sit. Sit and have a drink with me.”

  “I can’t tonight. Have you made any progress on your research into my friend’s curse?”

  “Research? Oh, for the pretty young Waterworker, you mean?”

  “We have to break Wyla’s bond. Tonight.”

  Khrillin raised an eyebrow and dabbed at a drop of brandy in his beard. “Calm yourself, son. These things take time.”

  “I’ve waited long enough. You and the Waterworkers can throw Watermight back and forth until the true dragons wake if you want. But if you’re going to help me, it has to be now.”

  “I can’t tonight.” Khrillin lifted his empty glass, hands wavering. “Come back in the morn—”

  Siv crossed the room and thudded his fists on the darkwood desk.

  “Want me to stick your head in a bucket to sober up?” He loomed over the older man. “Does that work with Watermight users?”

  Khrillin didn’t even flinch. “It’s not my state of intoxication, though that is advanced,” he said. “I can’t break Wyla’s bond.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve made a few discreet inquiries. Anything I do will kill your friend. It’s impossible.”

  “I can’t accept that,” Siv said. “If your friendship with my father meant anything to you—and if you want a future in Vertigon—you have to do this. Dara is the key to getting Vertigon back.”

  “I’m telling you it can’t be done, Sivarrion. The bond would fight against me, likely doing irreparable damage in the process. There’s simply no possibility that I could break it.”

  Siv thought of the very worst curse he knew and spat it at Khrillin.

  Khrillin sipped his brandy. “That’s no way for a king to talk.”

  “I’m not a king. But when I am, don’t you dare come to me for favors. You can stay in Pendark and burn for not helping her.”

  Siv turned on his heel and stalked to the door.

  “Wait a minute,” Khrillin called.

  Siv paused, but he didn’t turn around.

  “Unless you’re agreeing to help, we have nothing to talk about.”

  “I can’t break the bond,” Khrillin said, “but it’s possible she can. It would take an immense amount of power. If she was behind that explosion tonight, she might be able to do it herself.”

  So Khrillin knew about the explosion—or guessed enough. Siv didn’t have time to worry about that.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know,” Khrillin said. “But she has a better chance than I do. If she can find the edge of the bond, harness whatever she did to create that wave of force, and strike while Wyla is distracted, she might manage it.”

  Fire. Dara had combined Watermight and Fire to create that force. Siv didn’t intend to reveal that part to Khrillin, but he knew she was capable of incredible power. If Khrillin thought enough power could break the bond, Siv would do everything he could to give her a chance to use it.

  “Thank you,” he said shortly. He considered apologizing for his outburst, but the truth was that Khrillin had done precious little to prove his loyalty to Siv beyond keeping his secret. He needed action right now, not diplomatic words. He left Khrillin’s study, the door banging shut behind him.

  “Latch, I need your help.” Siv burst into the bedroom he shared with the Soolen, who was reading a tattered novel.

  “What kind of help?” Latch asked.

  “I need to get Dara out of Pendark.”

  “This is news?” Latch turned back to his reading.

  “I mean now. Like, tonight.”

  “What do you expect me to do?”

  “I want to use your Watermight secret to rescue her.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Just as a diversion.” Siv had spent the canal-boat journey from the Garment District formulating his plan. It was risky, but they didn’t have much time to strategize. The other Waterworkers would want to know who had produced a Work of such pure concussive force on the jetty. He did not want to be forced to fight through the entire Watermight-capable population of Pendark to get Dara.

  But for his plan to succeed, he needed Latch’s cooperation.

  “You can show off your secret Watermight containment thing and promise to teach Wyla your trick on the condition that she releases Dara from her bond. The moment she’s free, Dara can blow Wyla to smithereens.”

  “Um, since when can Dara do that?”

  “She’s got
this power,” Siv said. “She’s magnificent.”

  Latch rolled his eyes. “I get that you’re in love. But what you’re suggesting—”

  “She’s strong, Latch, beyond anything I’ve ever heard of. I think she could defeat Wyla without the bond. But we have to make sure she’s released before we try anything. We can’t risk her getting hurt.”

  Latch carefully placed a ribbon in his book and set it beside him on his cot. An instant later, Latch’s knife was pressed up against Siv’s neck. He didn’t even have time to feel surprised.

  “Okay, I get it,” Siv said quickly. “Bad idea to suggest using your—”

  “That information,” Latch said, every word slow and deliberate, “is a secret so precious to my family that there isn’t a man among us who wouldn’t die to protect it. Let me impress upon you the seriousness of what you are suggesting. You want me to reveal a secret that better men have died for to one of the most dangerous magic wielders on the continent so you can take your girlfriend home with you.”

  “Wyla won’t live long enough to tell anyone,” Siv said, conscious of the steel at his throat. “Dara will take care of her as soon as she’s free.” He didn’t know if Dara was willing to kill her erstwhile teacher, but if she hesitated, Siv would do it himself. “Wyla is never going to let Dara go if we don’t help.”

  “You’re probably right about that,” Latch said after a moment. “She’s conniving, and you should never trust a Pendarkan.” He directed a glare toward the window—and Pendark in general. “I can’t risk that secret, though.”

  “The truth will get out anyway,” Siv said. “Your father used it to conquer a powerful nation. It’s only a matter of time before everyone knows Watermight was involved. The Waterworkers will travel to Soole en masse, torturing Brachs until they find one who will talk.”

  “Eat rocks,” Latch muttered.

  “We can stop this war,” Siv said, “but only with Dara’s help.”

  Latch didn’t move. The blade was perilously close to cutting into Siv’s neck, but he wasn’t afraid. This wasn’t even the first time they’d been in this position.