The Confectioner Chronicles Box Set

by Claire Luana

  “See you in two?”

  Wren nodded.

  As Callidus promised, one of the wooden packing crates had been delivered to Wren’s chambers. Wren looked about, at a loss as to what to pack. She’d never had much in the way of worldly possessions, and since arriving at the Guild, she hadn’t had a lot of leisure time for shopping. In her closet, she stripped off the chocolate-stained dress she wore and pulled on a navy-blue skirt and sky-blue blouse, cinching them both with a brown leather belt. She pulled on thick woolen stockings and laced up her good brown boots. Traveling attire, check. She looked through her meager closet, pulling out a few of the more sensible warm dresses, a few pairs of leggings and a thick sweater to sleep in. She ran her hands past the velvet dress she had worn to Callidus’s Appointment Gala, and then the beaded gown she had worn to Crown Prince Zane’s royal wedding. The black dress was heavy in her hands, its weight pulling at her. It had been a gift from Lucas. The first gift from Lucas. She wanted to bring it with her but knew it was completely impractical. There would be no need for fancy dresses where she was going. She didn’t even know where she was going.

  Wren leaned against the wall, pulling out of her blouse the chain that held Lucas’s ring. She stroked the ring’s carved edges, imagining him touching this very surface before he gave it to her.

  “Where are you?” she whispered. “What if I never figure out what it means? What if I never find you?” She closed her eyes, trying to conjure up the image of him, to trace the contours of his features with her mind’s eye. Dark hair laced with flecks of premature gray, soft gray eyes over a serious nose. A smile...a smile that melted her like chocolate in the sun. Checked suits, long fingers laced through hers, the rosemary-fresh scent of him. He was fading. She could see the pieces individually if she focused on them, brought them to the forefront of her mind. But the picture—the whole picture—was fuzzy. Wherever he was, was Lucas forgetting her too?

  Wren shoved the ring back under her blouse, wishing her emotions could disappear as easily. She needed to finish packing.

  She finished shoving clothes into the box—underclothes, a scarf woven in the forest-green plaid of the Imbris clan—a second gift from Lucas. A toothbrush and hairbrush and various bathroom implements, including some hairpins for any lockpicking she may need to do in the future. She took the coins she had saved up from their little hiding place on the bookshelf, adding them to the pouch on her belt. A deck of cards she had borrowed from Hale. Well, those were hers now. She packed the cards inside the crate and covered her measly worldly possessions with some crinkled paper before securely fastening on the lid. Perfect. Time to go.

  Dash, apparently in good spirits again despite their unchaperoned outing yesterday, had commissioned a wagon for them. He seemed eager to prove his usefulness, which Wren supposed was better than him lurking about doing nothing. Thom and Lennon dutifully carried the crates of chocolate along with some of the guild servants.

  “What does the emperor need all of this for?” Lennon asked, raindrops shimmering on his dark hair.

  “He’s having an All Hallows’ Eve party for the ages,” Wren said. “He wanted the best confections.”

  Thom winked at her, mouthing, “First class.”

  Wren made a shushing motion at him. She was almost starting to enjoy coming up with a load of hogwash to feed the others.

  “That’s the last of it,” Dash said, dusting off his hands. “Shall we get going?”

  “By all means,” Callidus said, with an incline of his head. “After you.”

  The city streets were largely deserted this time of night, and they made good time to the Port Quarter. Their group was quiet, huddling under the wagon’s canvas cover to keep out of the rain. Wren watched the silent buildings pass by—stones grayed with moisture, the light of lamps and candles turning the leaded glass windows into blinking eyes. When she had first come to Maradis, it had seemed a terrifying maze of strange faces and dark alleys. Now, despite its flaws, it had come to feel like home. When would she see it again?

  Thom stared out the other side of the wagon, deep in thought. Was he wondering the same thing?

  Wren shoved her hands in her pockets, half to ward against the cold, half to check, for the tenth time, that the little bottle Callidus had given her was still there. They each had one; the clear liquid was supposed to be strong enough to knock out a horse when inhaled through the nostrils. Wren had to admit that relying on a chemical was preferable to clubbing their friends over the back of the head and hoping nothing went wrong.

  As it was, so very much could go wrong.

  Chapter 15

  The Black Jasmine was a handsome three-masted schooner with a hull of lacquered jet black. Its crew swarmed over it like ants, making final preparations for departure. Olivia shivered in her cloak. She would have refused this strange little job if it weren’t for two things. The emperor had requested it of them, and they needed to do whatever they could to prove their competence to their new sovereign. And Dash. Olivia looked sideways at the man from beneath the dark of her hood. The Aprican lieutenant who was staying with them just happened to be one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen. Yet another reason to rejoice the emperor had come to save Alesia.

  “Why isn’t the emperor using one of the Aprican merchant vessels?” Dash asked with a frown, pulling the horses to a stop.

  “This one’s supposed to be the fastest in Maradis,” Callidus said quickly. “He needs speed to get the confections there in good shape before All Hallows’ Eve.”

  The frown stayed fixed to Dash’s face, but he hopped down from the carriage bench. Callidus hurried after him. “I’ll tell the captain we’ve arrived,” Callidus said. “Why don’t you each grab a box and bring them on board?” Callidus strode down the dock, his black cloak flapping behind him.

  Dash rounded the carriage to Olivia’s side, offering his hand to help her from her seat. She didn’t need the help, but it was considerate of him to offer, wasn’t it? She placed her hand in his and he put the other on her waist, steadying her as she hopped down from the wagon. His hand was warm and broad, his thick callouses hard beneath the skin of her fingers. “Thank you,” she murmured, breathing in his faint fresh smell of pine and sage.

  “Of course,” he replied, letting his hands linger for a moment. Or was she imagining it?

  “Shall we?” Wren said, breaking the spell.

  They circled to the back of the wagon and began unloading crates.

  “Oof, these are heavy,” Olivia said, pulling a crate off the wagon.

  “Here, allow me,” Dash said, taking it from her as easily as a pillow.

  Olivia nodded, retrieving a smaller crate for herself. She headed down the dock behind Dash and the others, trying to ignore how finely his uniform cut over his muscled form.

  Callidus was arguing with the ship’s captain on deck, a dangerous-looking man who was gesturing towards the rest of them, with Callidus hissing in his face.

  Olivia frowned and wondered what they could possibly be arguing about. Perhaps gold. She’d lost her cool with a vendor or two in her day when haggling over prices. Maybe the captain was trying to demand a higher price. It was important to get the best price for the emperor.

  With a furious grunt, the captain, a dark-haired man with a silver earring, gestured to the end of the ship as they stepped off the gangplank onto the deck. “You can stack the cargo in the hold back there. The men can show you.”

  They followed a sailor down several teetering staircases into the dark hold of the vessel, where goods and barrels were piled against the walls. The man pointed to the far end and vanished into the low lantern light of the hallway. “Dash,” Wren said. “Why don’t you go with Callidus to grab more crates? We can arrange these ones down here.”

  “You sure you’ve got these?” Dash asked, setting his crate down.

  “Definitely,” Wren said sweetly. “Thanks for your help.”

  Dash grinned at Olivia as he passed by, and
she found herself smiling back, her heart trilling within her. He was definitely flirting with her.

  Olivia shuffled to the corner of the hold, dropping the crate with a crash, narrowly missing her foot. “I wish you hadn’t sent Dash away,” Olivia said. “What’s in these confections, rocks?”

  “Sure seems like it,” Lennon said, moving behind Olivia to drop his own crate on top of hers.

  Wren let out a stilted laugh. And then grabbed her.

  Olivia froze in her shock as Wren clamped an iron hand over her face, another arm around her waist. Despite her frail appearance, the girl was startlingly strong.

  “Wren!” Olivia tried to protest through the cloth her friend was holding over her nose and mouth. It had a sickly-sweet smell. She couldn’t breathe with it over her face. Olivia struggled, trying to shimmy out of Wren’s grip. What in the Beekeeper’s name was Wren doing?

  Olivia’s head swam and her flailing became more desperate. Across the dark space of the hold she saw Thom grappling with Lennon. Olivia realized too late what was happening. Wren and Thom were betraying them. But why, she didn’t know.

  Olivia redoubled her efforts to break free, bucking like a wildcat, smashing her elbow into Wren’s stomach.

  Wren grunted in pain and her iron grip loosened.

  Black was closing in on her vision now, but Olivia struggled against it, trying to push it back with clawing fingers. She wrenched out of Wren’s arms only to find that her legs were lost to her—they weren’t functioning at all.

  Wren caught her before she hit the floor, lowering her to the sticky wooden slats of the hold. “It’ll be all right, Olivia. I promise,” Wren said. Her voice sounded distant—underwater.

  Lies! A furious tear escaped the corner of Olivia’s eye as she blinked rapidly, trying to fight the growing blackness. But it was a fight she couldn’t win. The darkness swallowed her whole.

  Olivia was down. Thank the Beekeeper. Wren let out a shaky sigh, pushing her hair from her face just in time to see Lennon rear back and punch Thom in the face.

  Thom dropped like a felled tree, his hands to his face while Lennon hissed, sprinting towards the far end of the hold.

  “Wait!” Wren said, tripping over Olivia’s unconscious body to follow. Lennon stumbled up the stairs, running towards the freedom of the night air.

  “It’s for your own good!” Wren said as she raced after him. “Stop him!” Wren shouted as she leaped through the open door onto the deck, past a shocked sailor holding a coil of line.

  Lennon was already across the deck and onto the gangplank. No, no, no. If she didn’t stop him, he could call the Cedar Guard—or worse, the Aprican Legion—and lead them straight here.

  Wren ran down the gangplank after them, almost bowling into Callidus, who was hurrying up the other way.

  “What—?” he shouted, but she couldn’t stop. If she stopped she’d lose him. Lennon was scrambling up onto the driver’s bench of the wagon.

  Lennon snapped the reins and the horses leaped forward as Wren caught up, grasping desperately onto the other side of the wagon, hauling herself up with raw strength she hadn’t known she possessed. She half-flopped on Dash’s unconscious body, slumped on the other half of the driver’s bench. At least Callidus had managed to take out his target.

  “Len—” she began, but he was ready for her. As she pushed up off of Dash, he released a savage kick that connected directly with her breastbone. The world slowed as the breath whooshed from her lungs, and she began to fall backwards, reeling through the open air towards the hard cobblestones below.

  Her arms windmilled, grasping for anything she could find to keep her from falling. She connected with Dash’s belt and clung to it desperately. But it only served to pull Dash’s unconscious body off the bench, sending them both tumbling in a pile of arms and legs onto the hard ground below.

  Light exploded in Wren’s vision as she hit the ground. Her head cracked against the stones and her lungs felt like they had been rolled over by the carriage itself. Next to her, Dash stirred, letting out a groan. She tried to push to a seated position, but the world spun around her as fireworks exploded inside her head.

  “Come on.” Callidus appeared at her side, kneeling, pulling her up by her armpits.

  She moaned in pain, but with his help, she got her feet under her. “Lennon,” she managed.

  “He’s gone. We need to go now. He’ll be reporting us to the legionnaires as soon as he finds someone. We need to be far from here when he does.”

  Getting back to the ship and up the gangplank took all of Wren’s energy. Callidus lowered her gently against the rest of their crates that had been abandoned on the deck. Thom stood with horror on his face, no doubt watching Lennon gallop away into the night.

  “Wren, I’m so sorry—” he began, but Rizio cut him off with a shout. “You flaming fools! This half-cocked scheme of yours will get us all killed. We’ll have the Apricans upon us in minutes!”

  “I suggest we be gone by then,” Callidus said, his voice as cold as ice. “I’ll double what we agreed for payment.”

  “Double it?” Rizio barked. “You should quadruple it!” But he stormed away, shouting at his sailors. The men had seemed to anticipate the command, as they had already thrown off the lines securing the Black Jasmine to the dock and were hoisting the sails.

  “Are you all right?” Callidus asked, cradling Wren’s head in his hands, opening her eyes wide to look in them.

  “I’ll live,” she croaked. She could hardly see through the pain that drummed in her head.

  “What a disaster.” Callidus hung his head. “We never should have tried to bring the others with us.”

  “We got Olivia,” Thom offered, standing over them with his shoulders hunched, his hands in his pockets.

  Wren softened. “It was a mad plan. At least we’re on the boat without Dash killing us. Nice job, Callidus.”

  “We’re away from the dock,” Thom said, seemingly desperate for some bit of positive news that they could attach to. “I bet—” But his words were cut off by a bloodcurdling cry, followed by a flurry of blue that crashed into him like a ton of bricks.

  Dash staggered to his feet, his hair askew, his eyes wild and unfocused. The man had leaped from the dock to the boat!

  Dash pulled his sword from its sheath with an ominous ring. “By order of the emperor...” He stumbled. Clearly, the combination of the drug Callidus had given him and the tumble from the carriage was still affecting him. He tried again as Thom scooted away from his swinging blade. “By order of Emperor Evander, I hereby arrest you.” He pointed his sword at Callidus, who shied back a step. “I am commandeering this vessel.”

  In two swift steps, Rizio appeared behind the legionnaire and cracked him over the back of his head with the pommel of his dagger. “Commandeer this.”

  Dash’s eyes rolled back in his head and he began to sway on his feet. He careened forward into the nearby rail, which did little to forestall his forward progress. He promptly pitched over the side of the ship, falling with a splash into the inky water below.

  A moment of shocked silence hung over them.

  Thom was the first to break it, racing to the rail to lean over and peer at where the legionnaire’s sky-blue coat was visible in the water below. Thom looked back at them all. “Isn’t someone going to help him?”

  Rizio shrugged.

  “He’s going to drown,” Thom said, looking from Callidus to Wren, who was still having trouble with the world not blurring into two or three versions of itself.

  “He doesn’t deserve to die!” Thom said, his hands up in disbelief. “No one. Seriously?”

  “It’s unfortunate—” Callidus began. But Thom was already vaulting over the railing, taking the long leap into the water below.

  Chapter 16

  Trick outdid himself with dinner that night. Lucas and Trick had retrieved a few dozen clams from the little beach on the island, which Trick promptly sautéed in a sauce of garlic and butter w
ith chopped potatoes. Trick had opened one of the bottles of crisp white wine that had been sitting, forgotten, in the house’s cellar. He steamed fresh dandelion greens Ella had collected and cut up the last of the fresh sourdough bread. They used it to sop up the delicious sauce from their plates until every morsel was gone.

  When they were finished, they all leaned back, bellies big from the meal, the candles burning low. Lucas was loath to disturb the peace of the moment, even though questions were burning in his mind. Needing to be answered. Finally he broke down. “We should talk about the Falconer’s letter.”

  Ella crossed her arms before her chest, her eyes flashing. “What have you decided?”

  Lucas recoiled. She was so sharp now, all edges and points. There seemed to be little he could say that didn’t raise her ire. “I haven’t decided anything. It’s all of our decision.”

  “It may affect Ella and me, but it’ll be your life, Lucas,” Trick said. “You’re the one who has to choose in the end.”

  Lucas shook his head. “I’m making it all of our decision. We all agree or we don’t do it. We’re all the family we have left. I’m not doing anything to jeopardize that.”

  “Okay. But...do you want to be king?” Trick asked softly.

  His brother had his own special type of sharpness too—an ability to cut right to the heart of things—to the truth you weren’t yet ready to face. And that was it. The Falconer was raising a rebellion. To put Lucas on the throne. The man wanted him to return to Maradis to claim his rightful place as King of Alesia.

  “No,” Lucas admitted. “I don’t.”

  “Then say no,” Trick suggested.

  “But it’s not that simple, is it?” said Lucas. “Because I don’t want to just abandon Alesia to the Apricans. I don’t want to give up. We got out of the city to be safe for a time. We never intended to stay away forever. Did we?” In truth, their flight from the city had been such a hurried thing, they hadn’t had time to think of the future. There had been no plans in place. There still weren’t.