The Emerald Sea

by Richelle Mead

  “Did he kindly lend you use of the rest of the house?”

  “He didn’t prohibit it,” Jago said slyly. “And of course I’m bringing this back. No harm done.”

  Considering I’d solicited his services to sneak in here, I supposed I couldn’t judge.

  Much of the meetinghouse’s interior still remained unfinished. The walls hadn’t been sanded, and rushes covered the floor. A long table sat on a dais at one end, and partially constructed shelves occupied a back wall. And near those shelves, I spotted a pile of goods from the Gray Gull.

  I hurried forward, relieved to find such a big haul. I’d been half afraid that the cargo would be so thinly spread out around town that only a few things would be stored here. Better still, none of the crates and trunks before me appeared to belong to the crew or other passengers. They were all either Jasper’s or one of the Glittering Court girls’. The few unlocked trunks contained personal possessions of no use to me. The crates of trade goods were nailed shut, but Jago and I managed to get a few open using tools from the shelving construction.

  Jago lifted a pink silk dress up to the light. “Looks like you can replace the one you gave away.”

  “Six, Jago. Just when I was starting to give you the benefit of the doubt. I can’t wear pink with my hair.”

  “You can wear anything.” He held the dress beside my face. “And what’s this about starting to give me the benefit of the doubt? I thought we had an understanding.”

  I pushed the dress away and said, “Want to take it to your trapper friend?”

  Jago studied me a moment, well aware I’d dodged his question. “Tempting, but no.” He folded the dress up with more care than I would have expected and set it back down. “Louis is like me—won’t want to deal with large objects that might take time to sell. Jewelry’s still best. It’s small and easy to convert.”

  “We should have plenty of that.” I searched through the next crate and found it filled with books. “Wow. I had no idea Jasper was selling these.”

  “It’s smart. They’re not rare in Adoria but not nearly as common as they are in Osfrid either. Lots of folks would love to build up their libraries.”

  I lifted up a leather-clad novel I’d heard of but never read. It was a popular romantic adventure, and the book just fit in one of my cloak’s inner pockets.

  “Are you stealing that?” asked Jago in mock horror.

  “Borrowing it for Vanessa.”

  “I hope that lot appreciates what a good friend you are. What’s that look for? Are you laughing?”

  I was. After collecting myself, I explained, “I . . . it’s just . . . it’s funny, that’s all. There was a time—not even that long ago—that I think they would have been shocked to hear me called their friend. And I’d have felt the same about them. But yes . . . yes. We’ve become friends.”

  “Did that happen before or after you started looking out for them?”

  That one gave me pause too. “After, I suppose.”

  “And you helped them because . . . ?”

  “Not everyone needs an ulterior motive,” I said sharply.

  “Of course not. I’m just trying to understand how you think, why you’d step up for people who—if I’m reading you right—used to not like you.”

  I pulled off the next lid. “I stepped up for them because someone had to.”

  This crate held more dresses, but underneath them was a trove of accessories—including a jewelry box. We broke the padlock and then knelt beside each other as we spread the box’s contents over the floor. He regarded it all with a practiced eye and began separating pieces out.

  “This is costume, so is this. This one’s silver, but the gems are glass. That’s genuine. This one’s costume . . .”

  I knew the jewelry we’d wear out in Cape Triumph was real, but I also knew most of it was already safely there, used from year to year. New additions to the collection that were especially valuable traveled in Jasper’s own luggage. This cache must be what he was selling, and I hoped there were enough authentic items to make up Jago’s price.

  “This,” he said, after much shuffling and mumbling. “This would do it.”

  The set he waved to contained five necklaces, two bracelets, and four rings—all gold with differing gems. “That’s worth a hundred gold?”

  “A little over. To cover differences in trade and exchange.”

  “Done,” I said.

  Jago regarded me with amusement. “No hesitation, huh?”

  “It’s a small price to get us all back quickly.” I frowned. “Assuming the Icori honor Orla’s offer. What if they don’t?”

  “I’ll need to confirm it all with her, but if that’s what she said she’d do, then she’ll do it. She’s a stickler for honesty and integrity.” He spoke with an admiration that seemed contradictory, given his own dubious morals. “Which, I admit, is part of why I’m even doing this.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Orla doesn’t much like Osfridians—can’t say I blame her, given her experience.” Carefully, he began placing the rejected jewelry back in its box. “And yet, she thought well enough of you to suggest this.”

  “She must think well of you too, to sell you passage in the first place.”

  “Believe it or not, most people outside of Constancy think well of me. Some even like me. I’ve done a lot of traveling, a lot of trading. You get more done by making friends, not enemies.” He scooped up the remaining jewelry and held out a necklace adorned with emeralds. “What about this? Green would look good on you.”

  “Green looks great on me, but I think the Coles might have a few things to say about me wearing that around the house. Or anywhere in Constancy. I honestly can’t believe no one’s taken that scarf away from you yet.”

  “No law broken in wearing it—it’s just frowned upon.” He straightened the last crate and strolled to the back door with me. “They think I wear it because I’m vain.”

  “Are you?”

  “I wear it because it’s warm. And yeah . . . maybe I do like the flair a little. Everything I had growing up was a hand-me-down—so faded, you couldn’t tell what their original color used to be.”

  “Same here,” I said. “We got the neighbors’ handoffs, mended them for me, and then patched them up again for my sister.”

  “Lucky you, being the oldest. I had three other brothers who got dibs on clothes before me. They were practically threads by the time I got them, but that’s how it is when money’s tight.” He self-consciously touched the red fabric at his neck. “Money’s still tight, but I couldn’t pass this up. It proves something to the world. Plus, I got a good deal. Why, Tamsin . . . what’s this? Are you smiling at me?”

  “I just understand it, that’s all.”

  He smiled too. It had a different quality than Gideon’s. Gideon’s was more polished and practiced. It made you feel good because of its beauty. Jago’s made you feel good because you wanted to keep smiling back.

  “But,” he said, “you still don’t trust me.”

  “Of course not. I barely know you.”

  With the goods repacked, we stood up and walked to the door. “Well, Orla recommended me, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, but I don’t really know her either. Can I trust her? Can I trust the Icori? Sometimes I can’t even believe this plan is contingent on traveling with Icori! I’m so anxious to get to Cape Triumph that it’s the least of my worries. But if you’d suggested one month ago that I go on a river trip with Icori, I’d have thought you were crazy.”

  It all came out in a burst, but Jago pondered it very seriously. “Don’t believe the propaganda. Most Icori are trying to do what’s right and get along in the world, just like everyone else. Can you trust every Icori? No. No more than you can trust every Osfridian. But I’m telling you, though, if it’s in Orla’s power, she’ll see i
t through. She’s a good friend to have.”

  “I’m glad, but it sounds like you’re saying I should trust her because you trust her. And I should trust you because she trusts you and...well. You see where the logic starts to break down.”

  “And yet here you are.”

  I shrugged and stepped aside so that he could open the door. “Here I am. Because you’re pretty much the only help I’ve got right now.”

  Jago turned the knob and flashed me one of those smiles. “Trust me, I’m the only help you need.”

  CHAPTER 14

  I MADE IT BACK TO THE CHURCH IN TIME FOR THE SECOND half of services, and no one aside from the Glittering Court girls had noticed my absence. The only punishment I faced was self-inflicted: I’d missed lunch. By the time we piled back into Jago’s sleigh, I was dizzy with hunger.

  He drove us home, declining Samuel’s stiff invitation for supper. Again, Jago gallantly helped each of us down. Clasping my hand, he examined both sides of it. “If you’re worried about your hands, you should wear your mittens more often.”

  “I lost them.” I watched Dinah’s back as she entered the house. “But I’ll let my fingers freeze off before I let her know. She’ll have me writing about negligence using my own blood.”

  “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to either one of those ends.” He checked the horses’ bridles and then hopped back up to his seat. “I’m going to head out early tomorrow to see Louis.”

  “How long will that all take?”

  “Depends if I make any stops. But I’ll be back within the week either way.”

  The thought of his absence from town made me feel oddly alone. We had too few allies, and despite Jago’s quirks, it was comforting to have another outsider around.

  “What a lovely service,” Dinah told Gideon at supper that night. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Uros’s truth put so eloquently. ‘Fear is a cage, and we are our own jailers.’ I can’t get those words out of my head.”

  “Me either,” I chimed in. Gideon wouldn’t look at me, but a smile flickered over his face.

  “It was an excellent message,” Samuel agreed. “Ned and Lowell spoke to me about it afterward, remarking on your progress. Next time, you need to encourage people to succeed—but also make them understand the dire consequences of not succeeding.”

  When I retired for bed later, my friends immediately clustered around me and demanded to know where I’d disappeared to.

  “I can’t tell you,” I said, eliciting groans. “It’s not all settled, and even though I trust you, I can’t risk it accidentally getting out yet.”

  Vanessa flounced on her bed with a pout. “Can’t you tell us anything?”

  I paused in unbuttoning my overdress. “Well, I brought you a present. It’s in my cloak.”

  Vanessa dove for it and pulled the novel out. “I’ve been dying to read this! Where did you get it?”

  “You’re better off not knowing.”

  “I hope you’ll share that,” Damaris said, leaning over Vanessa’s shoulder.

  “Of course. After I finish it.” Vanessa clutched the book to her chest. Beaming, she told me: “Tamsin, you have no idea how glad I am that you get things done.”

  Although no new snow fell overnight, the roads still weren’t fully cleared the next morning. A neighbor drove us to town in his sleigh, and I found myself looking forward to the day, despite its labor. The last two days had been stifling, and I was glad to have the freedom of my own schedule again.

  After the neighbor delivered us to the town’s square, Gideon offered to walk with me to Chester’s. “You really helped me out with that sermon.”

  “You did all the work. That delivery was incredible.”

  “Because I had the right words. You really know how to get through to people. A gift like that . . .” He straightened his hat and gazed at the morning activity in the square. “Well, it’s something you should do on a regular basis.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think I’ll have many chances to do it in Cape Triumph.”

  “You could do it if you stayed here.” His eyes turned downward as he kicked at the snow. “Is there any reason—any person—that might persuade you to accept this way of life?”

  “What? No. Well, maybe if the angels themselves came down and—” The sight of his serious mien drew me up short.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “No, I’m sorry, I—”

  “It was out of line—”

  “It was—”

  We both stopped trying to talk over each other, falling silent at the same time. Then our eyes met, and we started laughing. “It must sound crazy to you,” he said. “We’ve known each other for, what, just over a week? But I’m telling you, these moments with you have been some of the happiest in my life.”

  I watched admiringly as he ran a hand through his hair, the pale winter sunlight turning it to burnished gold. I couldn’t help a pang of wistfulness. He was terribly good-looking. And kind.

  “Gideon, I don’t know what to say. I’ve loved spending time with you too. I think you’re the only bright spot in this town.”

  He vehemently shook his head. “No, there’s more to it than you realize. I swear. If you could just give it a try and really open yourself up to it . . . I think you’d see what I see. I know the dazzle of Cape Triumph and its wealth are alluring, but it’s all a pretense. You have a radiant spirit, Tamsin. Do you really want to cover that up by being around others who don’t?”

  A radiant spirit. No man had ever said such a thing to me, not even Harry, back in the days when every word out of his mouth had been worthy of a love poem.

  “It means so much that you think of me that way. Not many have,” I added, a catch in my voice. “And I’ll be honest—I don’t think many people around here share that opinion.”

  “That’s just because you’ve been living with the Coles. If you and I were—” He cleared his throat, red flooding his cheeks. “If you were my wife, running your own household, things would be a lot different. And you saw how powerful that sermon was! With your help, I could really get through to people. We could inspire them instead of scaring them.”

  “I’d love to see that,” I said sincerely. “And if things were simple for me . . . well, who could say? But they’re not. I’m committed to an expensive marriage contract and have a lot of complicated things in my life to look after. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “I do.” Though he was disappointed, his eyes glowed with an inner light. “But knowing you think well of me, even a little, makes me happy.”

  “I think well of you a lot.”

  We stood like that a few more moments, wrapped in a warm sort of contentment. “I suppose I shouldn’t keep you,” he said at last. “We’ll talk more later?”

  “Of course.”

  His unexpected proposal left me with a flood of conflicting emotions as I walked to Chester’s. Who could have seen that coming? Damaris would probably claim she had, I thought wryly. I felt guilty for refusing him and even guiltier that I wasn’t head over heels in love with him—not that I expected to be with anyone I married. I did care about him, though. Gideon was an amazing person, and I’d be lucky to find a man half as good and kind. If he’d spoken to me like that in a Cape Triumph ballroom, his pockets full of gold for Jasper, I’d have probably said yes in an instant.

  I was so distracted that I didn’t even notice the small cloth bundle on Chester’s kitchen table until after I’d made my first round of laundry pickups. Sometimes, if he had leftovers, Chester would leave me a biscuit or piece of cheese. Touched by his thoughtfulness, I unwrapped the cloth and found . . .

  . . . mittens.

  I tried them on wonderingly, trying to identify their unbelievably soft, black material. Cashmere? Angora? How could it feel like silk and sti
ll be so warm? Along their cuffs, tiny silver beads had been stitched with exquisite care, like a sprinkle of stars across the night sky. But when I put my arms down, my dress’s sleeves settled over the cuffs, concealing that taboo glamour.

  “Oh, Jago,” I murmured, “I suppose you think you’re being clever.” Maybe he was. Anyone glancing at me wouldn’t think I wore anything but a respectable pair of Grashond-approved mittens. Unable to help a smile, I tucked them into a cloak pocket, unsure if I’d risk wearing them. Even if I didn’t, it made my steps a little quicker and my heart a little lighter, knowing I was carrying a secret bit of sparkle with me.

  * * *

  A few days later, an overnight storm dropped enough snow on the roads to snarl travel again, reminding me again that winter still had us in its grasp. We were dreading an arduous walk to town that morning when, luckily, a sleigh-owning neighbor came by and offered a ride. As we gathered our things, Dinah suddenly came thundering down the kitchen stairs and roared, “What is this?”

  Samuel, reading papers in the sitting room, leapt to his feet. “Dinah Cole! Control your volume.”

  Dinah rushed up to him, her eyes blazing with fervid outrage. “Look! Look what I found!” She threw something to the floor. It hit with a loud thump, and I clamped a hand over my mouth to hide a gasp. It was the pilfered novel.

  Samuel picked it up, leafed through the pages, and then slowly raised his eyes. Whereas Dinah had reacted without restraint, he spoke with a chilling, more frightening control. “Where did this monstrosity come from?”

  Dinah pointed up. “It was in the attic. I found it when I went up to retrieve Gideon’s book.”

  I had no chance to feel affronted at Dinah borrowing my borrowed book, because the horror of what else had happened was too overwhelming. Vanessa was supposed to hide the novel before going to sleep, and she must have forgotten last night. And I’d forgotten to check. Now, standing beside me, her face was so ashen, I thought she might faint.

  By then, the racket had brought Gideon out of his room. Samuel strode over to my friends and me, holding up the book. “Whose is this?” he asked in that impossibly emotionless way.