Riot of Storm and Smoke

by Jennifer Ellision

  I can see so clearly how the king’s plan will work now. He’ll wear the Nereids down, whittle the navy away by destroying ship after ship with Reaping, lob it at their shorelines. Perhaps the Nereid Throwers will be able to take some of the Egrians down, but King Langdon won’t stop. He’ll send ship after ship after ship until his troops make it onto the shores, where his Fire Torchers and Earth Shakers will be able to turn the tide of the war.

  I smell the docks before we reach them—like salted fish and a tinge of metal in the air unpleasantly reminiscent of blood. Elena strides up the walkway and puts her hands on her hips. She’s quiet.

  I dart a glance to her. Sure enough, I see the specter of Kat walking next to her. Kat hasn’t left her since I told her to go and fetch her sister. Her expression is contemplative, vulnerable, and somehow young. It’s easy to tell them apart in this moment. Elena looks hardened and grim.

  “Well?” asks Meddie.

  Elena nods out to the sea where I can make out the ominous form of a steel ship, anchored and massive in the icy tide. “We’ve commissioned some dinghy operators to take you out. Already spoken to the captain—” She squints and points toward a dinghy well on its way to the ship. “That’s her, there. She’s agreed to have her crew depart early.”

  “Why haven’t they pulled into port?” Tregle asks, eyes narrowed. “Historically speaking, that rarely says anything positive about a crew’s character.”

  I remember with a start that Tregle hails from one of Egria’s major port cities.

  Elena smiles. “I’ll remind you of your own current status as outlaws,” she says.

  Point well taken. We climb aboard one of the dinghies she indicates, and the young commander of the tiny vessel doffs a cap at us before settling down at the oars. We don’t make conversation. Elena stays ashore for now, her twin at her side. That’s a small brightness for me in all of this: I’m finally rid of Lady Kat.

  When we reach the ship, a rope ladder drops down from the deck. Still wordless, we thank the row-boy and start to climb.

  Hanging one-handed from the ladder, I cast a glance back at the docks. Clavins looks so calm from here. Its multicolored onion domes stand stark against the gray sky. Not a hint of the havoc that’s struck our group reaches my eyes.

  The captain welcomes us aboard with a brusque nod. “You’re Elena’s lot? I’d show you around, but I’m a bit busy right now, scrambling the crew to leave without notice—” She waves aside apologies I hadn’t intended to give. “It’s fine. She told us there’d be extra compensation in it for me. Just stay up near the rails and don’t get in our way.”

  The crew hustles over the deck, readying the sails and preparing to pull anchor.

  I chew at the inside of my cheek nervously. Aleta and I have nearly made it and that’s great. That’s wonderful. But what about everyone else? The people who helped us get here?

  “I hope Caden hurries,” Aleta says.

  Me too.

  We turn back toward the city just in time to see gray smoke billow against the sky.

  I clutch the nearest person’s arm. Meddie. Like me, she’s too taken-aback by the sudden visual to so much as pat my arm in comfort.

  “It’s far enough away. It’s got to be. We’re safe,” she says, though her voice is soft and worried.

  “Where King Langdon is concerned, nothing is far enough.” I can barely hear the sound of my own voice. The crew around us flocks about the deck, scaling masts, tightening ropes, and drawing chains tight double-time, as if this is some sort of a signal they’ve been waiting for.

  Aleta hauls one of them in by the tail of his coat. “Crewman, what is happening?”

  He pulls loose and adjusts his clothing, shooting her a disgruntled look. “Captain told us to have the ship ready to weigh anchor at the first sign of struggle.” Nodding, he indicates the horizon. “That damned sure doesn’t look peaceful to us.”

  Meddie whirls back to the rail and squints at the cloud of smoke. “That distance looks to me as though it’s outside the city walls. But I’m no expert on fire. Do you two think it’s far enough?” She turns to our Torchers questioningly, and Aleta and Tregle communicate the severity of the matter in a glance between them.

  “If it’s true fire, even Torcher fire, we’ve some time yet,” Aleta says.

  “But if it’s Ruin’s Reaping…” Tregle crosses his arms, shakes his head, looking as serious as I’ve ever seen him. “That time can be halved. Perhaps even quartered.”

  “I hope he hurries,” Aleta repeats, quieter this time.

  We stare as the crew continues to bustle around us and the sky grows thicker with dark smoke. Come on, Caden, I silently urge.

  Back on the docks, there’s a swarm of people in search of a safe route out of the city. They toss boxes, bags, any of their belongings that they’ve been able to make portable, from one set of hands to the other and cast off, trying to put a barrier of water between themselves and the fire.

  Even if it’s not Reaping, even if it’s just the king’s Torchers at work, many of them will lose their homes in this.

  I’m thankful we fled when we did, but Makers, I hate this. I feel a sudden surge of anger for the king. For putting me in a position where I have to stand by and watch innocent people die and lose their livelihoods for the sake of ensuring the casualties aren’t tripled. For the sake of ensuring my friends and I don’t die with them.

  My hand clenches around the railing. Please don’t let us die with them.

  When distant figures join the swarm, cutting through in an organized fashion, I straighten. Meddie notices it, too. Soldiers. Caden.

  Eagerly, we mob the top of the ladder, but my stomach sinks as Liam climbs aboard.

  He gives me a curt nod and sets to directing his men to assist with the departure preparation. To stow their gear and find a place to sleep.

  Not that I’m not pleased that he’s made it aboard, but Caden should be here by now, shouldn’t he?

  The last man steps over the ladder’s threshold. A stranger. I snap when it isn’t Caden, not so much threading my way through the mass of people on deck as bludgeoning my way through them.

  I grab Liam’s upper arm in a firm hold, meaning to make him pay attention to me. “Have you seen the prince?” I ask lowly.

  He pulls free and gives me a look I cannot read. “Not since he gave us that warning,” he says. He claps a hand on my shoulder in what I think he means to be a comfort.

  I’ve had too much of that lately. I shrug him off and make for the ladder determinedly. I’ll go back for him myself. I’ll swim for the shore if I have to.

  Liam seizes me by the shoulders. “What in the black Beyond are you on about?”

  “Let me go, Liam.” I succeed in disengaging one of his hands, but it lands back just as quickly. I won’t get far, not like this.

  “Look, it’s not as though I can drown, is it?” I say impatiently. The ship rocks in a perturbed fashion. “If I’ve discovered nothing else about myself since leaving the capital, I’ve learned that much.”

  “I’ve discovered that you’re a damned stubborn little cretin,” Liam says. “The prince is a grown man, lass. He’ll get here in his own time.”

  I protest, and he holds up a hand to silence me. “No, little Water Thrower. You can’t drown, that’s true enough. But you can be pounded into by a ship. You can be burnt by a fire. You can be captured, beaten, tortured, and killed by human hands. Water can’t kill you, but there is plenty that can.”

  Finally, my struggle breaks me free. My hair swings recklessly into my eyes. “I don’t care. You can’t stop me.” I race for the ladder’s rungs and the promise of reaching Caden.

  Aleta and Tregle push their way between me and my escape route, flames flickering in their hands, eyes sympathetic. Pulling up short, my gaze moves uncertainly from them to the ladder. A breathless laugh trips from my lips.

  “You wouldn’t hurt me,” I say, not entirely sure.

  “If it means
saving your life…” Tregle shrugs, helpless.

  Aleta is less kind. “We would.” She and her fire take a step toward me, and I back away, stumbling over a warped plank on deck. My hands raise, memory unkindly prickling at my arm, where I’d been the victim of unrelenting flames in Tutor Larsden’s experimentation.

  “Breena, I won’t,” she says. “I swear. Only—think. What you propose to do is far from the wisest course. It’s downright half-witted,” she says, emphatic as she warms to her subject.

  Meddie and the rest of Liam’s men join them, silently enforcing their words.

  “We can’t just leave him there,” I say, voice breaking. “The last time we left him, Larsden—” I shake my head. “If you want to stop me, you’ll have to—”

  A dull blow smashes into me, and the world goes thickly black.

  I moan as I come to, the world coming in mercifully dim as I blink my eyes open. A lantern swings precariously from a hook in the corner. And a good thing, too, as there isn’t any light coming through the porthole.

  Wait…porthole?

  A glance outside confirms what I fear. Choppy waves, dark with the reflection of the night sky. A clipping of the moon hung low, stars obscured by raspy clouds.

  We made it out of Clavins.

  I grope beneath me for the bed I’d been sleeping on, staring stunned into the darkness. We made it out.

  Memory floods back as I remember where I’d been before awakening here. I scowl as my fingers scour my forehead and encounter a large lump. Meddie. I’ll have words with her later. But for now…

  I stand, finding my footing with relative ease, and liberate the lantern from its hook. I stride toward the door, but leap back when it opens as though anticipating me.

  The lantern goes flying and I wince as the glass shatters, but the flame streaks across the open air to Elena, who palms it with ease.

  “Ah. You’re up.” She looks around for another place to transfer the flame and gently coaxes it onto the wick of an unused candle, letting the rest of the fire vanish into smoke. “I hear you put up quite the fight.”

  “Did you?” I ask warily. Kat’s eyes blink back at me from Elena’s face, friendly, if a bit curious. The ghost is nowhere to be seen. “Someone’s exaggerated, then. I did very little but cause a scene and get knocked out.”

  She waves a hand as though to say that’s far from unusual.

  Tired, I sink onto the bed once again. “How long have I been out?”

  “Half a day at best,” she says, taking a seat beside me. Uneasily, I shift to put some more space between us.

  “And…” I swallow hard. “Did everyone on our side make it out?”

  Her eyes turn toward the ground. “I’m afraid not.”

  My stomach lurches.

  “There are plenty of good, Clavish soldiers we lost to the flames. We’ll mourn them, but their sacrifice won’t go unacknowledged.”

  “And what…what of the Egrians on our side?”

  Those blue eyes turn to me, and if they remain sad, at least there is a glimmer of something else there. My heart lifts slightly.

  “Prince Caden and his people are on board, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  The sweet swell of relief that crashes upon me is instantaneous. I close my eyes to keep from revealing it in front of Elena. I start to rise, but she puts a hand on my shoulder, laughing. “On board and asleep. It’s quite late.”

  Oh. I lay back, my eyes already growing heavy again.

  “Get some rest,” Elena says. Her voice ripples through the small space, and the gentle weight of a blanket settles over my body. “You’ll see them all in the morning.”

  As large as it seemed gazing upon it from shore or looking up at its daunting figure from a rowboat on the surface of the ocean, the Sumerki is no behemoth of a ship. True, it doesn’t seem to labor under the additional weight of a hundred-some-odd people, but Tregle’s guess about the crew’s character had been correct. The Sumerki is a smuggling ship, meant for heavy metals and pieces of valuable art. It’s well-balanced, but not precisely…roomy.

  Which is how I discover I’m meant to bunk with Elena.

  I strive for an impassive look, but I know I haven’t made it there when Caden’s lips twitch with suppressed laughter.

  “Shove it,” I say, shoving him. I turn to Liam, who’s imparted this news to me. “Isn’t there anywhere else she could sleep? You two seemed to get on all right. She’s not bad-looking, Elena. I’m sure if you sweet-talked her a bit…”

  His eyes have absolutely no give at all, despite my none-too-subtle nudging.

  “Or me, then! I could switch bunks.” I change tack. “Maybe Meddie…”

  “You scream in your sleep. So, no. But thanks.”

  A little desperately now, I turn to Aleta. “The two of us did all right back at the palace, sharing rooms. We could share a space for a little while, don’t you think?”

  Aleta coughs delicately. “I’m afraid I am…engaged elsewhere.” Her expression doesn’t change, but Tregle shuffles his feet, as though uncomfortable. When had those two come to an understanding? Not that I’m not glad, but it’s a bit inopportune for me. Although…it gives me an idea.

  I turn eagerly to Caden, whose eyes spark with interest, catching my intent immediately.

  “I’d be happy to be of serv—ow.” He scowls at Lady Lilia and rubs his ear, where she’d boxed him soundly.

  “Slow down, Your Amorousness.”

  “Lilia—”

  “Enough.” Elena’s voice, like her sister’s, is quiet but powerful, cutting through the loud voices easily and effectively. I wince as she slinks from a table and chair bolted to the floor. The room had been so full—covered in so many shadows—that I hadn’t noticed her. “Thank you kindly for the compliment on my appearance, Lady Breena—”

  My cheeks heat at the reminder of my indelicate proposal to Liam.

  “—but I think we’ll do fine bunking together for the journey to Nereidium.” She raises a brow challengingly. “Unless for some reason you’re afraid?”

  Kat rests her head on Elena’s shoulder and tilts it curiously. Elena stiffens—barely—but I catch it. Holding her eyes, I shift them deliberately to the left. Just slightly. Just the tiniest bit in the direction of Lady Kat’s ghost.

  “No,” I say. “I am not afraid.”

  The more time I spend around her, the easier it becomes to spot the differences between Elena and her sister. For one, Kat had an irritating and unnerving ability to speak in implications and double-talk without ever really imparting clear meaning.

  Elena suffers no such affectations.

  “So,” she says, an apple in hand. She takes a loud, crunching bite. “You can see her too?”

  “Unfortunately.” I eye Kat as she slinks into the room, smirking, and lounges on Elena’s bunk. Elena munches down the rest of her apple wordlessly.

  “I suppose it’s a relief to know I haven’t simply gone mad,” she says.

  Kat rolls over. “My dear sister, I did tell you—”

  “Oh, and I should believe you because you have such a bright, untarnished history—” Elena snaps, before stopping herself and easing a whistling breath out from between her teeth. “I will not do this. I made my peace with you a long time ago, Ekaterina.”

  I wait for Kat to correct her. I’d heard it often enough: Katerine du Eirya. Countess of Saungri. Court Rider. Lady Katerine. But she accepts her given name in silence, bowing her head in what almost looks like an abashed manner.

  “What else?” Elena asks.

  “Else?” I half-rise from my bunk. “Did they need us below for something? I thought they said there wasn’t much for us to do until we approach Nereidium.”

  “There isn’t—for them. For you? You could do with some work, I think.”

  I swing my legs over the side of the bunk and land with a soft thump on the ground. I take back what I said about Elena being someone who arrives at a point quickly. My eyes narrow at her
in an invitation to elaborate.

  She tosses her apple core from palm to palm. “Still can’t Throw?”

  I pop my lips. “Nope.”

  She takes a seat on her own bunk and stretches her legs in front of her. “So. What happened to you?”

  I flop backward. “Did you miss the part where an evil king was chasing me down, plotting to either kill me or use me for world domination?”

  She nods. “It would be enough, but—”

  “My father died,” I say, resolutely keeping my eyes from hers. “Your sister killed him.”

  “Ah.” Elena thoughtfully turns her gaze on Kat, who rests her chin in her palm. “She had a habit of that, from what I’ve heard.”

  “Got her back, though,” I say. Emotion, dark and angry, tosses in my chest. “I did for her what she did for Da.”

  “And that made you feel better, did it?”

  I hold my tongue for a change. After all, what does she expect my answer will be? I don’t regret taking Kat’s life. I only regret that I didn’t get to her before she got to Da.

  “Same thing happened to me when I went on the run,” she says. “When the king tried to have me killed in battle. I was a sickly child and Ekaterina always thought that I was weak, but I’m a good soldier. I didn’t relish running, but I valued my life.

  “I arrived back in Clavins, our childhood home. I had no one. Nothing. My father had abandoned us years ago, my mother was dead, I was an army deserter, and my sister had turned her back on me.

  “And neither of the two elements I’d come to rely on responded.”

  At that, I start. “This happened to you, too?”

  She lets out a slow breath. “Yes. Well-rested and all.”

  I fiddle with my fingers, not looking at her. “So how did you get it back?”