by Dan Koboldt
“Oh, you mean like this?” Quinn lifted the leather cord around his neck so that the wayfinder stone slid above his collar. It trembled and then leaned right in the direction it always had, out across the water.
Simeon’s shoulders eased, and he barked a laugh. “Now there’s a welcome sight. The island wasn’t on my port list, but it is now.”
Excitement made Quinn’s skin tingle all over, but he kept his smile at a minimum. “Much appreciated, Captain. When do we shove off?”
“Morning, at tidefall.”
That gave him less than a day, depending on when tidefall was. Less than a day to persuade Chaudri and Mendez—and more importantly Kiara—that it was time to part ways.
Or to sneak away.
Mendez and Chaudri had been making a slow circuit of the docks, chatting up as many sailors as they could. Few of them could recall how long it had been since they’d seen a Valteroni ship. Most of the fleet had been summoned to secure the port of Valteron City during the civil unrest. Quinn found them just outside the dockmaster’s office. They both looked exhausted.
“Any leads on the admiral?” Quinn asked.
“None so far,” Chaudri said. “Everyone seems to think he’s still in Valteron City.”
“Maybe he is.”
“Logan doesn’t think so,” Mendez said. “He’s had his ear to the ground, and there’s not a whisper of him, or the flagship.”
“Dr. Holt wouldn’t be so careless, in any case. He’ll want the backpack as far away from him as possible,” Chaudri said.
Mendez put a hand to his ear. “It’s the lieutenant. Be right back.” He hustled down the dock to a quiet spot where he could listen.
And where he can reply out of earshot, Quinn couldn’t help but thinking. “So, what do you think Holt’s up to right now?”
Chaudri smiled before she caught herself. “In addition to making Kiara’s life difficult?”
“Yeah. I get the feeling he likes to have a lot of irons in the fire.”
“You’re not wrong.” Her eyes went distant, and she chewed her lip. “If I had to guess, he’s consolidating his power in Valteron.”
“I thought he had that locked up, once he became Prime.”
“Legally speaking, he did. There’s no higher political authority in the Valteroni government. But he’ll still need to get the ministers in line, and keep a close eye on the local magistrates.”
“Good. That should keep him busy.”
“Let’s hope so. Some of the things Kiara and Logan have reported are unsettling.”
“Which parts? The sabotage?”
“It’s just so unlike him. He’s always been a builder, not a destroyer.” The worry was plain on her face, but there was something else there, too. Sadness, maybe. Or regret.
Quinn put a hand on her shoulder. “He’s got a very different job now.”
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I’m not sure he sees it that way. Alissia has always been his first love.”
“People do crazy things to protect what they love.”
She sighed. “So I’m told.”
Mendez reappeared. “The lieutenant wants us to try another port. Maybe Bay of Rocks, but she said it’s up to you.”
“It’s a little surprising that there’s not a single Valteroni ship here,” Quinn said. “Especially since Kiara was so insistent on sending us.”
“It’s a tough break,” Mendez agreed. If he knew more about why she’d sent them to Crab’s Head, he didn’t show it.
I still haven’t figured out his tells. It actually bothered him a little, but there might not be time for that. “Where’s Bay of Rocks?” Quinn asked. He took out the wayfinder again. It pointed him unfailingly east.
“Almost due south of here, right at the border of Landor,” Chaudri said.
Quinn bit his lip. I have to tell them.
Mendez pulled out his parchmap to get a bearing on it. “How long will it take to get there?”
“A few days by sea, if we can find a coast-cutter. But they don’t have much in the way of storage, so it’ll be tough to find one that can take three horses.”
“Two horses,” Quinn said.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m not going with you.”
“Oh?” Chaudri asked. “Did you find the captain’s brother?”
“Yeah, and get this: they’re twins.”
“Oh, my God, there are two of them?” Mendez asked.
“Gods,” Chaudri corrected.
“Right, gods.” He smiled and winked at her.
She tsked and looked away, but not fast enough to hide a little smile.
Quinn pretended not to notice. He had enough nausea to look forward to on the sea voyage. “He’s offered me a ride to the Enclave island. Or possibly to dump me in the ocean just for asking. I’m not sure which.”
“Sounds promising,” Mendez said.
Quinn started to nod, and then paused. “Wait—which scenario?”
Mendez grinned. “I’m still deciding.”
“Ha! You do that. But I think he’s legit. Benvolio did right by us after all.”
“He also charged us an arm and a leg to bring us out of Cambry. By their standards, at least.”
“Aw, Mendez, are you worried about me? Logan would be touched.”
Mendez guffawed.
Quinn cleared his throat. “The only thing is, the guy’s pulling out tomorrow morning.”
“So soon?” Chaudri frowned.
“Yeah. He said something about tidefall.”
“That’s about midmorning, this time of year.”
God bless her, she was as good as Wikipedia. “Thank you! I was too embarrassed to ask him.”
“I don’t know about this,” Mendez said.
“The Enclave is where I’ll be the most useful to the team. It’s why you guys brought me, isn’t it?”
“Well, yeah,” Mendez said. “But the lieutenant just ordered us south. We should at least run it by her.”
But that might give her the chance to say no. Kiara liked certainties, not vague invitations from a man Quinn had just met. Now that he was here, tasting the salt in the air, he couldn’t stand the idea of postponing his return to the Enclave. If there was anywhere in Alissia that he could learn to command real magic again, it was there. “Maybe it’s better if we ask forgiveness, not permission, you know?”
“We’re kind of supposed to stick together,” Mendez protested.
“You mean, you’re supposed to keep an eye on me,” Quinn said.
“On both of you.” Mendez took great care not to look at Chaudri.
Quinn saw the angle, and took it. “Come on, man. You don’t need me tagging along playing third wheel while you collect intel.”
“You’re not a third wheel!” Chaudri said.
The lady doth protest too much, methinks. “Even so, this is my shot to reach the Enclave, and I think I should take it. The two of you will be fine alone.” He drew out the last word a little.
Mendez gave Chaudri a covert glance, hesitating.
Quinn raised his eyebrows a little, guy-to-guy. Come on, man, this is your shot, too.
“I guess she hasn’t ordered you not to go,” Mendez said at last.
Jackpot. “See? There’s no problem,” Quinn said.
“I’m set to check in again tomorrow at midday.”
“Fair enough. I’ll be long gone by then.”
“She’s going to have an earful for you.”
“Eh, I’m used to it.” Quinn grinned. “Have to admit, I’m kinda going to miss you guys.”
Mendez gripped his shoulder. “Try not to get killed before you get there, all right?”
“Relax, Mendez. As long as there aren’t any fourteen-year-olds with swords along the way, I’ll be just fine.”
Simeon stood at the rail when Quinn made his way back to the two-master. His men were loading barrels back into the ship, and they looked suspiciously identical to the ones they’d been
offloading the day before.
“Morning, Captain!” Quinn called.
“Well, well, our young man o’ mystery.”
Quinn had to cover a smile, because the resemblance between the brothers was simply uncanny. “Permission to board?”
The captain gave him a double take and took his measure. “Granted.”
Never hurts to grease the maître d’. Respect to a captain, much like respect to a chef, always paid off.
He climbed the gangplank, bracing himself for the smell of varnish. Mercifully, it wasn’t nearly as strong, and a fresh salty breeze blew in from the sea.
He’d stashed the horse at a pay-by-the-month stable. Kiara wasn’t going to like the itemized receipt on that one, but he doubted the ship’s captain would be as hospitable if he had that sort of cargo. The saddlebags converted to an integrated-frame backpack, which he’d filled to the brim, mostly with his equipment from the prototyping lab. All of that was tucked away, under clothes and rations, out of view of prying eyes.
There was no hiding the weapons, though. He had his sword belted to one hip, his quiver on the other, and his bow strapped over his shoulder.
The captain took inventory of these in a single glance. “Is there a war I don’t know about?”
Quinn winked at him. “More of a hobby, for me.”
“Didn’t catch your name yesterday.”
“Quinn Thomas.” He offered his hand.
The captain clasped his arm. His grip could crack oysters. “Can’t say I’ll mind having another fighting man on board, though.”
Quinn didn’t like the sound of that. “Something got you worried?”
“You probably wouldn’t be the kind to notice this, but there’s not a single ship from Valteron in harbor. Hasn’t been for weeks, is the rumor.”
“You don’t say.” What a goddamn waste of time this was. He couldn’t wait to report that little tidbit back to Kiara.
“Well, the thing is, Valteron’s sort of the unofficial patrol of the coast waters. That goes away, and things worse than sharks start turning up.”
“Sea monsters?”
“Yes—the two-legged kind.”
“Ah.” Pirates, then. That was something they hadn’t covered much in the briefings, but Kiara had been pretty tight-lipped about the maritime stuff. Losing your sister at sea on the maiden expedition would do that. “You think we’re really in danger?”
“I’m shoving off with only half a load of cargo. What does that tell you?”
That I might have made a mistake.
Chapter 15
Marauders
“Luck counts more than it should.”
—Art of Illusion, January 19
Quinn’s bad luck with sea travel didn’t wait long to bite him. He got chewed out by Kiara for not briefing her first, of course, but that was expected. A day out of port, and Simeon’s lookout spotted a sail on the horizon. It was moving roughly at a parallel course, but changed direction soon after. Now it would intercept their path, if they kept going.
Simeon pondered this for an hour, and then ordered a course change of his own. Six points east, which would slide them away. Quinn heard the order and wandered up to the forecastle, where the captain stood behind his steersman.
“Is there a problem?” he asked.
“We’ll know in a minute,” Simeon said. “What he does next will tell us his intent. He holds his course, and it was just a coincidence. He comes at us again, well . . .” He let his eyebrows say the rest.
The lookout piped up ten seconds later. “Captain! Course change on the sail.”
“New heading?” the captain called.
“Six points east.”
Well, shit. I knew it was too easy.
The captain ordered another course change, and then another. The two ships played cat-and-mouse for half the day. The sail drew continually nearer, and eventually resolved itself into a single-masted galleon. Simeon gave it a long survey with his brass telescope, and his lookout did the same. Quinn fought the temptation to use his opera-glass binoculars—he wouldn’t know what to look for in any case, and there was no sense drawing attention.
“You mark any colors on her?” Simeon called up to the crow’s nest.
“Not as I can see, Cap’n.”
Simeon grunted, so Quinn took this for another bad sign.
“Second shift, axes and cutlasses!” Simeon ordered. Half the sailors made their way below to where the arms were kept.
Simeon must have seen the look on his face. “Look at the bright side. You get to practice that hobby o’ yours.”
Quinn shook his head. “That’s not a bright side.”
He ran down to the little cabin he’d been given for the voyage, which was roughly the size of a coat closet. He shut the door behind him and put his comm unit in burst transmission mode.
“This is Bradley. Got a bit of a problem here.” How long did Kiara say the delay would be? He started counting and got to ten before she replied.
“Go ahead, Bradley.”
“There’s a ship following us.”
“What kind?”
“A single-masted galleon, not showing any colors.”
There was a longer delay this time. She’s probably talking to Logan.
“I’m sorry, Bradley. We don’t have any way to help you.”
Logan chimed in. “Sailors fight dirty. Best stay out of the fight as long as possible.”
“If they start taking prisoners, surrender right away,” Kiara said. “We’ll figure out a way to extract you.”
Helpful as ever. “All right, I’ll give it a shot. Nice knowing you.”
He belted on his sword, and took up his bow and quiver. Outside his cabin, he joined the stream of men making their way to the deck, all of them armed to the teeth. Most of the sailors favored curved, single-edged swords—scimitars and sabers—but many just had a pair of daggers or fighting axes. Why am I the only guy with a bow?
The deck had transformed into a marine version of Thunderdome. A forest of waist-high iron barbs jutted out over the rail like metal teeth.
Quinn found Simeon at the wheel. He had a knife and sword on his belt. The handles looked well-used. “Where do you want me?”
“You any good with that bow o’ yours?”
“It’s the only thing I’m good at.” Aside from the magic tech, and he’d just as soon not have to use that.
“Get up to the crow’s nest. Try and pick off their helmsman.”
“I’ll do my best, Captain.”
He’d turned away when Simeon grabbed his shoulder. “If this starts to go poorly, tell them where you’re from.”
“How will I know it’s going poorly?”
Simeon gave a grim smile. “You’ll be the only one of us still alive.”
Sorry I asked.
Climbing up to the crow’s nest was a terrifying experience all by itself. When he was about halfway up, the ship lurched sideways as the captain made a course change. No warning at all. His legs careened loose of the mast. He clung on with his fingertips. “Shit!”
The bow started to slide down his shoulder. He flailed with his right leg and found a rung. Jesus Christ! His heart hammered in his throat. Easy, easy. He quested with his other leg, and managed to find the other rung. Then he clung to it and took a minute to catch his breath. Almost died before the fight even started.
He clambered up into the crow’s nest, which was nothing more than a wooden platform with rails and room enough for two men. The lookout—a lanky kid with a pitiful attempt at a mustache on his narrow face—climbed up to join him a minute later.
Quinn smiled. “Hey, Timmers. Going to keep me company, eh?”
“Cap’n wants my eyes up top.” He brandished the bow and quiver of white-fletched arrows strapped on his back. “Figure I might as well have something to do with my hands.”
“You think we’ll outrun them?” Quinn asked.
“The cap’n is good, but our ship’s heavy and the
y have the wind on us.”
“How long, then?”
“Half an hour. Maybe less.”
Quinn loosened his arrows, checking them one at a time. The carbon shafts had the coloring to pass for light-grained wood. The self-sharpening broadheads were cast from another company alloy, and damn near indestructible. Wish I’d insisted on the explosive ones, though.
He’d come across those in the armory, and immediately put in a requisition for some for the mission. Which ended up on Logan’s desk, and the big man had enjoyed telling Quinn that he was more likely to “blow his own ass up” than put them to good use. Didn’t hear him complaining when I showed up at the smuggler’s canyon the last time we were here, though.
The marauders’ vessel loomed closer with every passing minute. It sat higher in the water than Simeon’s boat, but the sails were a patchwork of mismatched canvas. Figures crowded the deck, and weapons glinted in their hands. Sweet Jesus, there were a lot of them.
Timmers had been making a survey of the vessel with his brass telescope. He muttered a curse.
“You see something?” Quinn asked.
“Marundi.”
“What?”
“They’re Marundi tribesmen.”
“Never heard of ’em.”
Timmers turned his head to spit downwind. “Be glad of it.”
“Are they bad news?”
“They’re a gods-damned warrior culture.”
No one told me about any warrior cultures. “From where?”
“Marundi.”
“That’s not very helpful.”
Timmers actually grinned, though his face was tight. “An archipelago north of Pirea. They used to raid along those shores before, you know . . .”
“Pretend I don’t know.”
“Before Valteron built a navy.”
Wonderful.
The drums of the other ship began pounding.
Drums filled Quinn’s world. The beats thundered across the water as the marauders closed on the Purity. Simeon had to shout for his orders to be heard. The noise unsettled everyone. Quinn kept trying to gauge the distance to the ship—he’d start shooting at about fifty yards—but he couldn’t concentrate.
“Going to sucker punch!” shouted the captain. “Hold fast!”
