The Confectioner Chronicles Box Set

by Claire Luana

  Dash’s eyes widened and he blew out a breath. “That’s a tall order.”

  She nodded. “If you could take back Terrasia, wouldn’t you do it?”

  “I don’t know.” Dash was still. “The leadership in Terrasia was corrupt too. It always seemed like exchanging one faceless tyrant for another.”

  “I know what you mean,” Olivia said. “But it changes things to know that he’s taking people’s free will. Their very thoughts. Somehow it changes things.”

  “I don’t know why you’re telling me all this. I’m the enemy.”

  “That’s the thing,” Olivia said carefully. “I don’t feel that you are. I feel more kinship with you than with my own Guild right now.”

  “They lied to you. It’s understandable that you feel betrayed.”

  “Do you think, now that you know... Would you ever think about joining us?” she asked hopefully, trying to keep her voice nonchalant. You know, just betray your country, your oaths, your very life for a girl you’ve known for a few days and a country you’ve just arrived in. No big deal.

  “What would you have me do?”

  Olivia paused, her excitement growing. I would have you kiss me, she wanted to say. I would have you swear your loyalty to the Guild, and me, and profess your love with such vehemence that I cannot help but believe you. But instead she said, “Talk to Callidus and Pike. They could use a legionnaire on their side. Someone who knows the ways the Apricans think and the way they deploy their soldiers. Someone who knows their battle strategies and tactics. You could be instrumental in helping us take back the city and stopping Daemastra and the emperor.”

  “And you ask me this for the city?” Dash asked carefully. “For Alesia?”

  “Of course.” But his question. It sounded...loaded. She hesitated, feeling perched on the edge of a knife. She wanted it all. So she plunged ahead—caution be damned. “I would also have you aid us because I’ve enjoyed our time together. And I would wish to see you standing beside me on the bow of the ship rather than stuck in this cramped cabin. And perhaps, someday, back at the Guildhall. Or on Nysia Avenue, taking me to dinner.”

  A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “I should like to take you to dinner. And dessert and breakfast and lunch after that. And every day following.”

  She hissed in a breath, her senses suddenly alive with his nearness. The melted chocolate of his eyes, the presence of him—sturdy and sure.

  Dash’s hand came up slowly. He cupped her face, and in that moment, she felt more alive than she ever had before. She wanted to laugh with the stupidity of it. They’d just met.

  His calloused thumb stroked along her cheek, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake. “I’d like very much to join you and your Guild. But mostly you. I think I might fight the Huntress herself for you.”

  And then he kissed her.

  The world seemed to rock beneath her and Olivia wasn’t sure if it was the movement of the boat or the fire in her heart. Kindled—come to life—at this man’s touch.

  Wren felt unmoored, as if at any minute, a gust of wind might blow her away. Perhaps being back on land would ground her, bring her back to herself...but she doubted it. She tried to identify what it was that made her feel this way. Being away from Maradis? From the Guild? From Lucas? Maybe it was all of that, and none of it. Somewhere in all of it, she had lost her sense of herself, had flown too high, had thought she could change the fates of men and kingdoms. Who had she been kidding? She had only just barely ever been able to take care of herself, and she had done that by being small and unseen. Yet somehow, in all of it, she had become a person people looked to. For answers. It had been a heady feeling at first, the power, the excitement, but now it weighed on her. What if she made the wrong decision? What if more people died?

  Wren dragged herself down the hallway she shared with Callidus and Thom. She knew she was due for the mother of all lectures from Callidus, but she wanted to check on Thom.

  Callidus sat on a little stool by Thom’s bedside.

  Thom was asleep, his eyes closed, a sheen of sweat on his pale face.

  “How’s he doing?” Wren asked, lingering in the doorway to their cabin.

  Callidus’s head swiveled her way. “Pike’s sailor said that Thom’s likely suffering from pneumonia. He’s given him a tonic, but if it doesn’t work, we’ll need to get medicine in Nova Navis.”

  “Pneumonia?” Wren closed her eyes against her worry. Master Oldrick had caught pneumonia several years back, and it had taken him a month of fevered nights, warm broth, and bedrest to recover. It wasn’t a gentle illness.

  Thom let out a wracking cough and Callidus reached out, dabbing at his brow with a damp rag.

  “Callidus,” she said softly.

  Callidus wiped Thom’s brow again. “What?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I’m sorry for running after Olivia and Dash. If I ruined our chances with the Centese…”—the words stuck in her throat like thick taffy—“I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Callidus reached behind him and pulled out another little stool from beneath her berth. He patted it and she sank onto it gratefully.

  “Wren,” he said. “There’s something I’ve learned. It took me many years, and some days I think I still haven’t learned it fully.” He turned to her, the blue of his eyes filled with something unexpected. Compassion. “You can’t control everything. You can plan, you can hope, you can pray, you can try. But sometimes in the end, it’s not enough. That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. Because I don’t know about you, but I’m just a mortal. And a confectioner at that. And all I can do is all I can do.”

  Wren let his words wash over her like a soothing balm. They brushed against a dam within her that she hadn’t known existed. A sob broke free from her lips. She clapped her hand over her mouth to hold it in, afraid to let that dam burst.

  “What happened with Sable, with Hale, with Thom...none of it is your fault,” Callidus continued.

  Wren nodded, fighting back tears. When she spoke her voice was thick. “It’s never enough. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not enough. I keep thinking if Sable were here, she would know what to do. Or Lucas. Or even Hale. The old Hale. They could have convinced the Centese to ally with us. Or have stopped the emperor from taking over Maradis.”

  Callidus shook his head. “It’s easy to think that way. I do all the time. But I think you and I are more alike than we realize. We may not have Lucas’s pedigree, or Hale’s charm, or Sable’s savvy, but we keep trying, damn it. We don’t give up. If that’s my legacy, then it’s one I’m proud to leave behind.”

  Wren nodded. “I think...me too.”

  Callidus rubbed his hands on his legs. “Hand me my mandolin, will you?”

  Wren reached behind her and pulled out the black case from where it was tucked against the wall.

  Callidus flipped the buckles and pulled the polished tear-drop instrument out of its blue velvet lining. His fingers plucked the strings lovingly as he tuned each one.

  “Do you think Olivia will ever forgive us?” Wren asked. Olivia had stormed out of Pike’s cabin after their meeting, refusing to speak to Wren. They hadn’t given her the binding wine, but Wren hadn’t wanted to remind anyone of that fact. Let her tell Dash. Let her tell the world. She was sick of keeping secrets. She was sick of getting tangled in her lies.

  As Callidus started to pluck an easy melody, he replied, “She’s angry right now. But Olivia is a lot like Kasper. And he saw the best in everyone and everything. Give her time. She’ll come around.”

  Tension unwound from Wren as she sat, listening to the rise and fall of Callidus’s tune. She had entered this room full of trepidation and doubt. And now, though she still felt scared and uneasy, there was something else there too. Determination. They would find Lucas. They would find this mercenary. They would find the Falconer. And together, they would take back their city.

  Or at the very least, they’d die trying.
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br />   Chapter 23

  Hale walked stiffly from the King’s Hill Quarter towards the Lyceum. His sword was on his hip. Around him marched a phalanx of Aprican legionnaires. Blond and brawny and faceless. Yet they had ten fingers and he had only nine. He thought that was the only distinguishing characteristic between them. An explosion had rocked the Lyceum Quarter just a half hour before. The Falconer up to his old tricks. It seemed the man had been right about the bread. Though Hale had known something was off, between Beckett’s strange comment and the captive baker, he hadn’t been able to put two and two together. Not fast enough.

  It was a subtle thing. Hale hadn’t noticed at first, locked in the palace as he was. But here, out in the streets, he saw the infused bread’s horrible effects for what they were. Banners, posters, buttons, all declaring the wonder of the emperor and the Aprican Empire. People cheered as they passed, faces rapt with delight. It was almost too much to bear.

  Maradis wasn’t perfect, and certainly King Imbris hadn’t been, but it had been a city filled with differences. A city that celebrated those differences—from the clothes on a man’s back to how he took his coffee. And now they were a faceless mass. An amalgamation of people robbed of their individuality. Hale felt sick. Bile rose in his throat as a little boy dashed forward, waving. The Falconer’s cause was hopeless. How could he defend this city when people didn’t even realize who the real enemy was?

  This was what Hale had done. This was what his deal with the devil had reaped. Part of him thought of letting the poison overtake him. Let it be done. He didn’t know how he could go on like this.

  They crossed a wide intersection of Third Avenue, and Hale was suddenly overcome with the need to be away. To be away from these soldiers. Away from the sound of boots and the clanking of swords. Without thinking, he turned, angling off onto the other street. One of the legionnaires called after him, but no one followed. They had their orders. Report to the site of the bomb, not follow their wayward brethren.

  Hale’s feet drew him forward. He didn’t know where they were taking him until he reached the wrought-iron gates of the Holyhive Cemetery. His heart—whatever shattered remnants of it there were—twisted in his chest. Of course his feet had brought him here.

  He walked to the Guild plot, the little patch of grass and stone that held confectioners, guildmasters, and grandmasters from centuries before.

  Sable’s headstone was the freshest. Bright and shining. The flowers they had laid at her funeral were shriveled and dead.

  Hale gathered them up and carried them back up the lane to deposit them in a trash bin. He snapped the stem of a hydrangea bush, pulling off a single sprig. The flowers were brilliant blue—cobalt, like the color Sable used to love to wear.

  He sat before the stone, placing the bloom gently upon it.

  “Well, it’s as you predicted. Without you here, I’ve fumbled everything. It’s all gone so wrong. More wrong than I ever imagined. I’m not supposed to live this life without you,” he said.

  He almost expected to hear the velvet of her voice, the whisper of a ghost. But there was nothing.

  “I don’t know what to do, Sable. What would you do?” He let out a little laugh. “I know what you’d do. You wouldn’t let it stand. When you saw wrong, you couldn’t help but want to fix it. But I’m not like you. I never was. I’m not as brave. I don’t fight for the plight of the weak who can’t fight for themselves. I’m a gambler. I care about money. And luck. And comfort. And I cared about you. But now you’re gone.”

  He sighed. “Don’t you see? I can’t do this without you. I need a sign, Sable. I need a sign from you.”

  At that moment, a cry pierced the quiet of the cemetery. The cry of a hawk. Hale craned his neck, searching the gray sky for a glimpse of the bird. It sounded again. There it was. Not a hawk. A falcon.

  The bird circled. And dove.

  Hale’s eyes widened in shock as he watched the raptor dive towards the earth, pulling up at the last moment with a prize in its talons. A fat golden mouse.

  A bubble of disbelieving laughter escaped him. He looked up at the sky and closed his eyes, soaking in the feel of her imagined presence. “You never were subtle, were you? But I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

  Wren sat against the mast of the ship, her cloak pulled tightly around her. She’d been in their little room below deck for hours and needed some air, to be away from Thom’s incessant cough and her worry for Lucas. She didn’t know now how that story would end. If she’d ever see Lucas again. If he’d ever forgive her for the part she’d played in his family’s downfall.

  “Can I sit here?”

  Wren looked up to find Olivia standing above her, uncertainty playing across her lovely features.

  “Of course,” Wren said.

  Olivia sank onto the deck behind her, leaning against the mast.

  A glimmer of hope lit inside Wren. She and Olivia hadn’t said two words to each other since Pike, Callidus, and Wren had shared the truth of the Gifting with her. Was she finally ready to talk?

  But Olivia said nothing, seeming content to pull her knees against her chest, staring out across the sea.

  “How’s Dash doing?” Wren asked, twisting around to face her.

  “He’s as well as could be expected,” Olivia replied. “He’d be better if you’d let him out of that cabin.”

  Wren bit her tongue, holding back her protestations that it wasn’t her call. If Olivia blamed Wren, so be it. Whether it was fair or not. “I don’t know if we can do that,” Wren said. What to do with Dash was one of many problems that weighed heavily on her conscience. She didn’t think they had it in them to abandon him somewhere, or sell him into slavery, or kill him. Maybe Pike was ruthless enough to do that. But she and Callidus? No. But where did that leave them? Abandon him in a cell to rot? How long might this rebellion last? Or even more dangerous—trust him?

  “This is his life,” Olivia said. “You can’t just keep him in a cage like an animal.”

  “He was never supposed to come. If he hadn’t been so damn zealous in his duties...”

  “It’s who he is.”

  “You know him now?” Wren turned her head to examine Olivia.

  “I think I do.”

  “And you trust him?”

  “Yes. I told him everything,” Olivia said coolly.

  Wren winced. Another person who knew the secret of the Gifted. She sighed. What did it matter anymore? Perhaps Callidus was right. Perhaps it was time to let the truth be free.

  Olivia went on. “He wants to help us. Think of the knowledge he has as a member of the Aprican legion. He could help us take down the emperor.”

  “Or he could double-cross us,” Wren protested. “How do you know we can trust him? That he’s not lying? Playing you?”

  Olivia’s voice grew soft. “I…I just do.”

  Wren closed her eyes. Gods, this was bad. It seemed that Olivia was falling in love with the man.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” continued Olivia. “That I’m a foolish girl who fell for a man whom she just met. Whom she hardly knows—”

  Wren cut in. “I don’t think you’re a foolish girl. I just don’t want you to get hurt if he turns out to be a different person than you thought. He has a reason to lie. To play upon your sympathies.”

  “So did you, Wren,” Olivia said. “When you first came to the Guild. But I chose to trust you.”

  “But—” Wren protested.

  “Lucas chose to trust you—to risk his life for you—even though he’d only just met you.”

  Wren took a steadying breath, trying to banish the pain that squeezed her heart at the mention of Lucas. Her hand drifted to the ring beneath her dress.

  Olivia continued. “Sometimes you can sense something about a person. Even if your head tells you it’s crazy, your heart knows otherwise. That they’re worth taking a chance for. I felt that about you. I feel that about Dash. He’s a good person. He wants to help us.” Olivia’s blue ey
es were bright with fervent belief.

  Dash had been kind to them when he’d been free. He was Tamrosi, not Aprican. Word of the emperor’s dark magic might be enough to put anyone off his cause. Wren found herself nodding. “All right. If you trust him...I’ll talk to Callidus about releasing him. But no promises...” But Olivia was already squealing in delight, her hands clutched to her bosom, her eyes bright. “Thank you.”

  Wren nodded. “I’m sorry it took us so long to tell you the truth.”

  “I’m still mad, but I get it,” Olivia said. There were tears sparkling at the corners of her eyes. “Wren?”

  “Yeah?” Wren said, fighting the lump rising in her own throat.

  “Thanks for kidnapping me.”

  A startled laugh escaped Wren. “That’s what friends are for.”

  Chapter 24

  Nova Navis was a barren, windswept moor of high cliffs and gray glass. Wren stood at the rail, watching it grow larger on the horizon. Her body swayed with the rolling and tossing of the sea, her hair tangled in hopeless knots in the whipping wind. They were nearing the rocky shore now, and the sailors crawled over the deck behind her, pulling on ropes and lines while Pike shouted orders.

  Callidus appeared next to her at the bow, followed by Thom, who held Callidus’s arm for support. His coloring was still off, but he looked better, his eyes brighter, his back straighter.

  Olivia and Dash lingered on the bow of the ship, Dash having changed into a brown sweater and olive trousers, along with sturdy boots. Wren hoped it wasn’t a mistake, letting him out of his tiny cell of a cabin. But Olivia was right. It was time they started trusting her. And how much trouble could he really get up to out here in the middle of nowhere?

  “How are you feeling, Thom?” Wren asked.

  “Sick of lying in bed,” he replied, letting out a muffled cough.

  “Maybe a little fresh air is exactly what you need.”