by Claire Luana
“Maybe...” Wren said. “The infused bread had a fairly consistent effect on people. If we could get a message to him, perhaps we could gauge from his reaction whether he’s been affected.”
Olivia piped up. “I could help. I know what it felt like...to be under the influence. I think I could craft a set of questions that would reveal whether he’s compromised.”
“Worth a try,” Lucas said. “We’d need to get someone into the city, though.”
“Happy to oblige,” Ansel said. “My lads could nip in, easy as pie.”
“Let’s say this Falconer is on our side and willing to help us. We need to talk about a plan. How can we win Maradis back from Evander’s forces?” Pike asked.
“We need to neutralize the infused bread,” Wren pointed out. “It needs to be our highest priority. Without it in play, we’d have considerably more allies. Be able to reach back out to people who we once thought were on our side. The other Guilds. The contact that was supplying you all with food and information.”
“Agreed,” Pike said. “But do we know where this Gifted baker is being kept?”
“Probably close to Sim Daemastra, the emperor’s infused goods expert. The palace, most likely,” Wren said.
“Likely won’t be close enough. We need to know before I risk my men,” Ansel countered.
“Obviously.” Wren glared at him.
Ansel grinned back at her.
Lucas looked between them, his brow furrowing.
“We need to go back to Maradis. Find this Falconer. Then find the baker’s location and neutralize him,” Callidus said.
The group exchanged glances.
“Agreed,” Pike said.
“Agreed,” said Ansel.
“Agreed.” Wren sighed.
“It’s not enough,” Lucas said.
“It’s just a first step,” Wren said.
“That’s not what I mean,” Lucas said. “My father lost his throne. The Apricans didn’t take it, not really. He was a tyrant, at the end. The people wanted something new.”
“Lucas—” Ella said, but Lucas held up a hand to silence her.
Wren furrowed her brow. Lucas was right. She’d wanted King Imbris gone as much as anyone. Had helped the Aprican cause in her own way. She still didn’t know what Lucas would think of her when he found out the role she had played. If he’d ever forgive her. Suddenly, the firmness of his hand in hers felt fleeting once again. Ephemeral.
Lucas continued. “I’m not saying he was evil, but he lost the trust of the people. Even if we free people from this compulsion, we can’t just go in and slaughter the Apricans, taking the city back by force.”
“Works pretty well, actually,” Ansel said, crossing his thick arms before his chest.
“I’m not saying it couldn’t be done,” Lucas protested. “I’m saying we shouldn’t do it that way. Maradis belongs to the people. We need to give them a say. Let them decide.”
“What are you proposing?” Callidus asked.
“Tell people the truth. About the infused goods. About the emperor, and how he’s been manipulating them. Tell them...if they help us take back the city, that we will turn it over to them. Set up a system of free elections. No more emperor. No more king.”
Silence hung in the room. “You can’t be serious,” Ella whispered. “The common people don’t know how to rule. They’ll run Maradis into the ground.”
“Then it’s our job to educate them. Set up a system that will help them rule. It could work. Enough lies. Enough swords. I don’t want to be king. But that’s not why I’m saying this. Maradis needs a better way. Alesia does.”
Wren thought of her family, her father, working until his mind and body broke, indebted to the royal town that gave them succor. Paying for scraps of wood to heat their hut when trees were plentiful in the forest all around them. She thought of the children living in the royal orphanage, desperate for any protection. The thousands who had died in the Red Plague while the king had barricaded himself in his palace with the cure. Yes. Things needed to change. “I think it’s a beautiful idea,” Wren said.
“Encouraging the people to revolt would make our job easier,” Pike said. “Don’t know how the rest will work out, but the truth seems as good a plan as any.”
Lucas nodded, looking to the others.
“I go where ya pay me to go.” Ansel shrugged.
“Same,” Griff said.
Ella shook her head, looking at the wall. “Lucas, you were always such an optimist.”
“I like it,” Trick said. “Leave a legacy the Imbris clan can be proud of.”
“I like it too,” Callidus finally said. “Strong men have used their power to exploit the weak for too long. Evander’s just one of a long line of tyrants who have ruled us. I’m with Lucas. It’s time to give Alesia back to the people.”
Chapter 32
Strangely enough, the decision to scrap the monarchy was less controversial than how to get into the city. Pike, Ansel, Griff, and Callidus debated for the better part of an hour, arguing about the best approach.
Wren perched on the side of Lucas’s chair, his arm wrapped around her, his thumb stroking circles across her palm. That simple motion filled her senses, sending heat coiling deep within her body. It was all she could think about. How good it felt to have him back. How badly she wanted to get him alone.
“We’re just going to sail right into the harbor,” Ansel finally announced.
“That’s your grand plan?” Ella scoffed.
“The port is open. We take one of Griff’s ships, which won’t be recognized. We walk right in under their noses.”
“All of you think this is best?” Lucas asked.
They exchanged glances, nodding.
“Fine. We’ll hide in the hold and sneak into the city after dark,” Lucas said.
“Oh no.” Pike held up his hands. “You Imbrises are not going anywhere near Maradis. “
“But—”
“They’re right, Lucas,” Trick said. “Until we know what the situation is, we’re safest out here.”
“But the Falconer—”
“You don’t have to be the one to contact him, right? You weren’t before?” Callidus asked.
“No.” Lucas frowned, hesitating. “He said if we want to reach out to tape a letter to the bottom of the sleigh on the carousel at Gemma Park.”
“It’s so very cloak and dagger,” Ella said, rolling her eyes.
“Then it’s settled. Someone else will reach out with this message,” Callidus said. “Remember, we don’t know if he’s compromised.”
Lucas clenched his fists. “I hate not being able to do anything! We’ve been sitting on that island for the past few weeks...” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine.”
“So, who’ll be coming with me?” Griff asked.
“I’ll go,” Ansel said. “I ain’t been in Maradis in years. No one will suspect me of anythin.’”
“Anything but your regular hijinks?” Wren said. For some reason, the idea of Ansel going alone didn’t sit well with her, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. “I’ll go too,” she said.
“You could be recognized too,” Callidus said.
“It’s too dangerous,” Lucas protested.
“Ansel and I skulked around the city for years. We know how to work together and we know where to go to avoid watchful eyes. He shouldn’t go alone. If anything happened, we wouldn’t know.” She looked at Callidus, trying to communicate with her eyes. If he goes alone, what’s to stop him from betraying us to the Apricans—so long as they can pay a higher price? She’d trusted Ansel during her time as a wraith, but those days were a distant memory. Better to keep an eye on him while she got to know the man he’d become.
Lucas raised an eyebrow at Wren, and she shot him an apologetic look that she hoped said, I’ll explain everything later. She hadn’t yet had a chance to tell Lucas about her history with Ansel, and she felt a strange hesitation within her. She sh
oved past it. There was nothing to worry about. It was all in the past. Lucas would understand that.
“Fine,” Callidus said.
“Okay.” Wren stood, grabbing Lucas’s arm. “I think this meeting is over.”
Wren towed Lucas up on the deck, where the wind whipped her hair and cloak around her. They were underway again, leaving the fog-shrouded Odette Islands behind.
Lucas turned his body so he blocked the wind, pulling her cloak around her and holding it closed before her chest. He looked wild and untamed with that beard, with the dark shadows under his eyes and his legs braced against the tossing of the ship. “You found me,” Lucas said. His slate gray eyes reflected the sky, filled with light as he regarded her. “You figured it out. You’d make an excellent inspector.”
Wren smiled, pulling the chain and the ring out from beneath her dress. She held it up and he examined it, taking it in his fine fingers. “Rutilated quartz. Hooded cormorant. Creepy bird,” she said.
“My great-grandfather, on my mother’s side, grew up on the northernmost island. This was his ring. I knew you’d figure it out.” He grinned at her, and that smile split her heart in two.
Wren wrapped her arms around him, leaning into the warm planes of him. “I’m so sorry. About everything. Virgil. Your mother. Gods, Lucas, it all went so wrong.”
“Hush. It’s not your fault.” He stroked her hair, cradling her head to his chest. Guilt spasmed through her even as she breathed in the scent of him, the feel of Lucas here in the flesh. But she did bear part of the blame. Wren and Hale had gone to the Aprican camp that night to make a deal with the devil. True, she had turned back, but her idea had led Hale down that path. She should have known that he wasn’t stable, that he wouldn’t be able to make good decisions. She had dropped the key to Maradis in their enemy’s lap.
Even as Wren had fantasized about holding Lucas again, this secret had shadowed her thoughts, her dreams. Because she needed to tell him. And by telling him, she very well might lose him.
She’d tell him tomorrow. She just wanted one day to enjoy his presence. To be happy. Was one day too much to ask?
“Wren.” Lucas pulled back.
Her heart stuttered and for a moment, she wondered if he had somehow managed to hear her secret thoughts.
But he continued. “Who is that man? Ansel? How do you know him?”
She sighed. “We knew each other when I was young. When I lived on the streets. He formed a kind of family with some of us. He was like a brother to me for two years.” But even as the words came out, Wren wished she could take them back. That wasn’t entirely true, was it? But there was nothing between her and Ansel now, nothing for Lucas to worry about. She had just gotten Lucas back, and there was no need to complicate things so soon, was there?
“A brother,” Lucas said slowly. “What happened? Why haven’t you ever spoken of him?”
“A misunderstanding,” she assured him. “We’ve worked it out.”
“I don’t like him,” Lucas said.
Wren let out a bark of a laugh. “I’d be surprised if you did. He’s a cocky bastard.”
“You knew him a long time ago. Are you sure we can trust him?”
“I’m not sure we can trust anyone anymore,” she said.
“Except us.” Lucas kissed her forehead.
“Right,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “Except us.” Except the little voice inside her head was whispering too, You can’t trust anyone, Lucas. Not even me.
The twilight breeze blew unseasonably warm, and everyone was in fine spirits. They had accomplished their mission of retrieving the heir to the throne, vanquishing an enemy vessel in the process. The Phoenix’s cuisinier, an old sailor as gnarled and twisted as the walking stick he used, made a particularly tasty stew, using the last of the ship’s halibut. The spices of cardamom and chili warmed her, as did Lucas’s presence, as he sat tucked securely at her side. One of Pike’s men struck up a tune on a fiddle, and a bottle of some powerful liquor was passed around.
The sailors started dancing, a hornpipe with pantomimed motions of hoisting the sails and climbing the rigging. Wren and Lucas and the others clapped along, drawn into the enchantment of the fiddle.
And then Callidus appeared with his mandolin, a shy smile on his face, his black locks falling over his eyes. A great cry went up and after a brief discussion between the musicians, a new tune was selected, a reel that wove the dancers around each other like a pretzel.
Callidus’s fingers flew across the strings, and Lucas looked at Wren with amazement. “He’s phenomenal!”
“I know.” She laughed. “Little known secret.”
“Care to dance, Miss Confectioner?” Lucas stood, offering a hand to her. “Let’s see what a mess we can make of this.”
“Challenge accepted.”
Lucas and Wren wove in among the other dancers, Dash and Olivia, Ansel and reluctant Ella—even Pike and Griff took a turn. The steps were simple enough, and though Lucas and Wren managed to step on each other a few times in the beginning, they began to catch on, whirling and laughing amongst the other dancers. When the song ended, Lucas tilted her back and kissed her thoroughly.
Wren and Lucas collapsed back in their seats, and Wren caught sight of another couple across the circle, twined together as if the crowd were a distant thought, and the world was only the two of them. Wren’s heart squeezed with joy as Trick brushed Thom’s blond curls off his forehead, leaned in close, and kissed him.
“Look,” Wren said, a breathless laugh bubbling forth.
“Good for them,” Lucas said as he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, his nose nestled in her hair. “Trick and I spent many glasses of wine discussing the finer features of the members of the Confectioner’s Guild.”
Wren looked sideways at him, smiling. “You knew?”
“He told me,” Lucas said. “He was nervous as hell about telling Thom.”
Wren snorted. “Same for Thom.”
The warm buzz of Lucas’s whisper in her ear pulled her from her thoughts. “Do you think we can sneak away unnoticed? I’d like to show you how much I’ve really missed you.”
Wren threaded her hand in his and pulled him across the deck, away from the revelers. Her, Thom, and Callidus’s cabin would be empty. They had time.
With Lucas at her side, the world felt right again. As if her vision had cleared, the fog of doubt burned away by the sunshine of his presence. He brought out the best in her. He was all she needed to be happy. Lucas and a little chocolate shop somewhere. Not politics or the fates of nations. Not covert operations, or mysteries to solve, or crises to avert. Just life. Love. Could she have that?
They ducked below deck, and Lucas pressed her against the wood planks of the hallway, his hungry mouth on hers. She reveled in the taste of him, the spice of the stew, the bite of the liquor on his lips. His hands roved over her body, searching, desperate, tangling in her hair, grasping the back of her neck to pull her closer.
“My cabin’s that way,” she gasped, managing to pull back from him, from the blood thrumming in her veins and addling her mind.
“Too far,” he said jokingly into her neck, trailing kisses over her ear, her neck, down onto her collarbone.
“Come on.” She pushed him.
With a little growl of frustration, Lucas took her hand, leading her down the corridor. She shoved into their little cabin.
“Cozy,” Lucas said, spinning her back against the door, slamming it shut.
Wren’s breath hitched in her throat as Lucas pressed the hard length of himself against her. She felt lost in him—his arms, his kiss, the sweet rosemary scent of him. His beard scratched her face, but she didn’t care. She twined her fingers in his hair and pulled him close. She didn’t think she could draw him close enough.
He hoisted her into his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked to the bed. He laid her down gently before lowering his weight on top of her.
He drew back, k
issing her eyelids, her nose, her lips, punctuating each word with a kiss. “You are without a doubt, the craziest, bravest woman I’ve ever known. Once again, I owe you my life.”
“Don’t mention it,” she said jokingly, swallowing at his sudden seriousness.
He shook his head reverently, tracing the line of her collarbone with a finger. “I won’t let you diminish what you’ve done. You saved us. Ella, Trick. You saved our lives again.”
“It was selfish really,” she managed, her voice catching in her throat. “You see, I don’t want to live life without you.”
He kissed her gently, his gray eyes searching hers. “Whatever happens from here, I’ll be by your side. Always. You have my promise.”
Wren pulled his mouth to hers, burying his words with a kiss. Shoving down deep her fear that it was a promise Lucas couldn’t keep.
Chapter 33
Spirit Bay and the Port of Maradis looked no different than they had left it. The low gray sky, the drizzling rain. The thick wall of rocks forming the breakwater, the red cranes unloading ships of goods for the city. The jutting skyline of office towers and churches.
Yet somehow, it felt different. Wren didn’t know what was waiting for her within those walls. Apprehension filled her.
“She’s a pretty city,” Captain Griff said from Wren’s side, putting a booted foot up on the lower rail of her ship, the Sea Witch. Ansel and Wren had transferred aboard to head into the city.
“Have you spent much time here?”
“Just a day or two here or there when I was delivering goods. I’ve a friend who lives here.” Nostalgia flashed in her green eyes. “Well, haven’t talked to him in years. An old friend.”
“You never thought to berth here?” Wren asked.
“Alesia’s Merchant Guild charges the hell out of everyone, but their own members worst of all. I make more money calling Port Gris my home base. Plus, never liked it in cities. Too dangerous.”
“Too dangerous?” Wren asked. “How could life at sea be less dangerous than living in a city?”
