Bridge of Legends- The Complete Series

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  “So, where will you go now, boy?” The boy was tucking his cloth bag back into the recesses of the hidden panel.

  Tamerlan clenched his teeth, thinking. Where did he go, now? He had to try again. He’d have to go back to the Guild House and see if he could grab some of his things there. And he needed more ingredients. Those he could get around the city today if he was careful. If he wasn’t seen or caught.

  He had to hope that Master Kurond didn’t know he was in trouble with the law. If the Alchemists knew and they found him first, they’d punish him in their own way before they gave him to the City Watch. He flinched at the thought of the acid they used to etch a mark of shame on the backs of the hands. He’d seen that before. Old Jand who hauled waste from the Guild House was marked like that. He’d been caught stealing from the Guild. And that would only be the beginning. Worse, their punishments would take time and time was the one thing he didn’t have.

  “If I haven’t earned your name, is there something I can call you until I do,” he asked the boy. “It feels disrespectful to call you ‘boy.’”

  The boy snorted. “You can call me Jhinn, boy.”

  Tamerlan bowed respectfully. He might not be a Landhold anymore, but if being sold had taught him one thing, it was that all people preferred to be treated with dignity.

  “Do you know a place where we could hide a few things, Jhinn?”

  Jhinn grinned. “For a price, maybe.”

  “Okay, for a price.”

  Jhinn gestured at the line hanging from the bridge. “Untie the boat. We’ll talk price while we go.”

  Tamerlan untied the boat, his mind on the list he was forming of where he could go to buy or steal the items he was going to need to smoke again. He’d need a lot of them. He’d need to stockpile. If it mattered how much he actually breathed in, then next time he needed to breathe in as much as possible and he needed to keep on doing it until he got what he needed. And for that, he was going to need a lot of spices and a place to keep them.

  “It needs to be somewhere that I can store a lot of things,” Tamerlan said.

  “Valuable things?” Jhinn asked.

  “To me.”

  “Ten percent. You keep them in my place. I get ten percent.”

  Maybe he wasn’t as young as he looked.

  As they skimmed along the morning water watching the white river birds fishing along the edges of the reed clumps, their long legs scissoring through the water, Tamerlan let the cool morning breeze and the warmth of the sun on his face lull him for a moment.

  It would be okay. He just needed to change his plans and adapt. He hadn’t lost his chance. Next time, he would smoke a lot and next time, he would get a better Legend for the job.

  And now he had an ally. Sort of.

  And that was something, wasn’t it?

  Summernight Eve

  (Fourth Night of Summernight)

  22: To Catch a Law Breaker

  Marielle

  Marielle shifted on the three-legged stool. It was hard to stay still when the scents slipping in through the window were so enticing.

  Oranges and sweet buns, roast pork and sweet peppers, fried cakes and puffy pastries – every mouth-watering food you could buy in the nearby streets and inns were there. And mixed in were the freesia, roses, and mandarins hanging in garlands on the streets, all forming a sparkling tangerine and warm brown sugar symphony on Marielle’s vision. Her mouth watered.

  Excitement and delight spiked in reds and electric blues smelling of electricity and sweet apple. On Summernight Eve, the tradition of Jingen was to dress as the Legends and give gifts door to door. People filled the streets below with baskets and barrows and carts heaped with baking and treats, fruits and trinkets. The more a person could afford to give, the better luck in the year to come. Tomorrow night, on the shortest night of the year – Summernight – the year would begin afresh and with it, the luck that came from giving.

  Marielle would have no such luck. She wasn’t lying in wait to give anyone anything. She was waiting here to take – take a man’s freedom, his future, his life.

  Master Kurond had been very accommodating, allowing Marielle to sneak in when the other apprentices were preoccupied with dressing for the evening. No one had seen her arrive. No one had seen her sit quietly on the stool and with the sun setting soon, it wouldn’t be long until dusk fell and with it, Marielle was certain that Tamerlan – the golden scented apprentice – would return to his rooms to retrieve anything he’d left there.

  He would probably want the book page Marielle had found. Or at least, she was hoping he would. It seemed valuable. And people rarely hid things under their blankets unless they were personal to them. She felt for it in her belt. It was still there.

  Her every sense was focused on the window. By the scent trail, that was how he’d left. It would make sense that he would return that way, too. In a world where everyone else thought in circles, Marielle couldn’t help but think in a straight line.

  The door to the room creaked as it opened and Marielle jumped, rising from her seat so quickly that the stool wobbled. She fumbled for her truncheon and then froze when the man walking in the door was not the one that she expected.

  “Marielle Valenspear,” the Lord Mythos said, entering with a swirl of magic residue and a puff of plum arrogance.

  “L – Lord Mythos!” What was he doing here? He was hosting a party tonight – one for the Landholds of the city and the Guild leaders. He’d even invited Marielle to it again, sending her a second dress.

  “This is not where I expected you to be tonight, Marielle.”

  Marielle felt sweat breaking out along her spine. “You said it was vital to find the person who tried to break into the Seven Suns Palace.”

  “So it is,” he said, quirking a single eyebrow. That single change to his face changed the entire thing, taking him from sober and angry to mysterious and possibly intrigued.

  Marielle tried to explain. “So, I’m making it my top priority. I’m waiting to see if the apprentice of The Copper Tincture returns tonight. We followed his scent here. He’s the one who tried-”

  She was babbling. She felt like a fool. But when those eagle-eyes swept over her, they rattled her. Those were the eyes that might be the last ones she saw if she failed.

  “You remember what’s at stake here.” It was a statement, not a question. It was almost as if he had read her mind. He leaned in close, so that his eyes were level with hers and only inches away. “Because I haven’t forgotten, Marielle.”

  His gaze should have been intimidating. It should have made her quake with fear, but instead, it was the Lord Mythos who looked vulnerable.

  “I believe in the law, Lord Mythos. I believe in defending it. That’s why I’m here and that’s why I sent Carnelian in my place to report to you at the party tonight.”

  He waved his hand like that wasn’t important but something in his eye gleamed in a way that contradicted the gesture. “I don’t need a report. I know how things are progressing.”

  She cleared her throat nervously. Best not to have any misunderstandings. “Then why did you invite me. Why did you send me a fancy dress?”

  He scoffed. “It’s not enough that I might want to see you? Would that be such a crime?”

  His eyes were haunted with something, like he was being stretched between two trees and the ropes were growing tighter.

  Marielle swallowed, careful with her words. “Do you really have to kill that poor girl on Summernight?”

  His lower lip trembled when he replied. How old was he? He was barely older than she was, she thought. And right now, he looked younger still.

  “It takes blood, Marielle. It takes blood to save us all. And if I don’t give it – if I fail in my duty – so many more will die. The streets will run with blood and the dead will wash up along the shore for months.”

  He ran a hand over his face like he was wiping the thought away.

  Marielle shivered. He really believed t
his mystic stuff. He really believed the old catechism. Marielle didn’t think that she’d ever met anyone who truly believed – who didn’t just say the words by rote, mouthing the traditions because that was what was expected.

  “You believe in the law,” he said. “You feel it in your bones. It pulses through your veins. Each day is purposeful because you love it, because you defend it, because it makes the insignificant things you do – the steps of your patrol, the care of your uniform, the glance you lay over every citizen – it makes all that full of meaning. Isn’t that true?”

  And when his eyes met hers, she felt like he really did understand.

  “Yes,” she breathed, feeling her pulse drumming in her cheeks.

  “That’s how I feel about Jingen. I live to defend this city. I spend every moment of every day thinking about her health and prosperity. I would die – gladly! – in her defense. Can you understand that?”

  He had grown paler as he spoke, his hands gripping the hilt of his rapier until they were white-knuckled.

  “Yes,” Marielle said. Because she really did understand. If Lord Mythos – if Ettiene Velendark - loved Jingen like she loved the law, then no wonder he was so obsessed with the Summernight sacrifice. Her love of the law filled her up. It called to her on dull days and shone brightly when she’d feared she’d lost her way. It made her warm inside with a fire that didn’t stop burning. She could quote every law of Jingen. They ran through her head when she polished her boots and brushed her hair. They tickled her memory when she rode on a gondola or watched the water lap in waves around the waterlilies. The law was life. And it kept all things and people in Jingen safe as long as it was followed. And she loved that she was a part of that.

  And if Etienne felt the same way about this city, then she respected that. More than that, she understood him.

  He was looking away now, looking out the window to where the sun was growing dimmer. Perhaps it was a colorful sunset. Marielle would never know, and she wouldn’t care because not seeing the colors of sunset meant she could see the colors blooming up from Lord Mythos, the crimson and birch smoke of passion and the deep rose of obsession, bursts of creativity in peacock blue with the scent of peaches and something almost like the gold of attraction sprouted up from him in splashes of intensity. And mixed in it all was the heady clove and mint smell of him mixing and strengthening.

  He turned back to her, hawk-fast, his eyes dark with intensity. “For the first time in my life, I feel torn, Marielle. I must make sure that the Lady Sacrifice does her duty. I must not let anything stop it.”

  “Then why wait until Summernight?” Marielle asked. “Does one more day make so much difference?”

  “The timing must be precise,” he said, shaking his head. “If it is not done at midnight on Summernight, it will be for nothing.”

  Marielle swallowed.

  He turned back to her, eyes haunted. “Do you think I revel in it? Do you think I desire it?” His voice lowered. “My own cousin died as a Lady Sacrifice while I watched. It haunts me to this day.”

  Marielle’s mouth was too dry to swallow.

  “But this time, Marielle – this time is worse.” The look in his eyes echoed his words.

  “Why? Haven’t you done this before?”

  He scoffed. “Every year, I do this again. But this year there are fewer choices for the Lady Sacrifice, Marielle. And you are one of those choices.” His voice grew so quiet it was barely above a whisper. “And I do not want you to die.”

  His whisper tickled her ear, raising the small hairs along the back of her neck.

  Flattering. But why her? He barely knew her.

  Marielle’s eyes narrowed as she watched him. But it wasn’t fear that filled her. It was a gut-wrenching horror that someone else was going to die and that likely, she was the one person who could stop it. Because if Marielle offered to take her place, wouldn’t she be a perfectly acceptable replacement?

  She should say something. She should offer herself in the place of the other girl.

  But no matter how many times the thought echoed through her mind, she couldn’t voice it. It was as if her very voice was betraying her. It stuck in her throat like a fish bone.

  “I must leave,” Lord Mythos said eventually. He was looking at the door, but he bowed his head over his white-knuckled grip as if he was trying to keep a hold on himself. “Catch this thief. Neither of us can live with the alternative.”

  He left without looking back at her, his short cape swirling in the wind of his passage. The door shut softly behind him and with it, the warmth seemed to leave the room. Marielle wrapped her arms around herself and sunk back into the stool, but now she felt haunted as if one of the Legends really had come back to life and was standing there jabbing at her with a stick.

  She could end someone else’s pain if she was bold enough. But while it sounded noble when she thought it the first time, she didn’t know this girl. She didn’t know anything about her. Maybe she wasn’t a good person. Maybe she didn’t deserve to live any more than Marielle did. But what filled Marielle with shame was the realization that even if she did know her and even if the Lady Sacrifice was the perfect paragon of all virtues, Marielle’s tongue would stay silent. She didn’t want to die. And she wasn’t ready to give up her own life for anyone else – even an innocent victim of an ancient tradition.

  The minutes ticked by far too slowly and with every one Marielle smelled her own bitter disappointment as it filled the room like a brown haze and hung over her head like a cloud, tasting of sharp turmeric.

  She was a terrible person.

  23: A Gamble

  Tamerlan

  “This is more stuff than you need, boy. Dried up plants and stinky goo. I would never promise a place for them if I knew what you wanted to hide.” Jhinn shuffled the ingredients deep into the hull of the small skiff, packing them down under an oiled canvas.

  Tamerlan carefully arranged the smaller bunches of ingredients he’d kept for tonight, stuffing them one at a time into a small leather satchel at his side.

  “When you told me that you had a hiding spot, I had no idea that you meant it was another boat,” he said.

  This boat was smaller than the sleek gondola that Jhinn steered everywhere. Stubby, but with a low profile, the top completely wrapped in oilcloth, this little boat wasn’t made for people. It was made for supplies.

  “What do you think happens if the city gets attacked? What if we have to run fast? I have a plan. You have stinky plants.”

  Jhinn did have a plan. He’d taken Tamerlan out of the city and down the river to a little dip in the bank under the roots of a pair of Da’shal trees. The tiny craft was tucked in there, filled mostly with water in skins and glass bottles and dried foods wrapped in oilcloth.

  “Thank you for letting me keep my supplies here,” Tamerlan said. “I don’t know why you’re so kind to me.”

  The boy rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why you want to store stinky plants like they’re made of gold. But I do know why I helped you. And not just because you saved my boat.” He paused. “I can see your friends.”

  “Friends?”

  “The two people looking over your shoulder all the time. The one with the long red hair and the one with the bronze bow. They want things from you. They haunt you. No man should live like that. My people have ways of dragging unwanted spirits out. You want to find a Spirit Singer? I can take you.”

  Tamerlan swallowed. Jhinn could see Lila Cherrylocks and Byron Bronzebow when he looked at Tamerlan? That was concerning. He’d never believed all the talk about the Waverunners being from another world but talk like that made a person think it might be true.

  “It’s a generous offer,” Tamerlan said. “Thank you.”

  “No, not generous. Necessary. You can’t let spirits take you. They use you for their own reasons. Evil.”

  “I need them right now. I need to save my sister, and without the spirits, I’ll lose my chance.”

  Jhi
nn clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Where will you go with your sister when you get her free?”

  Tamerlan flushed. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’m just trying to get her out of the Sunset Tower.”

  Jhinn sighed. “You have no plan, boy? You’re lucky you met me. When you have your sister, you bring her to Jhinn and I’ll get you out of Jingen, yeah?”

  “It’s a generous offer,” Tamerlan said with a smile. “Too generous. We’ll be wanted fugitives. That will bring trouble for you.”

  The boy shook his head, waving his hands dismissively. “I already have trouble. I already lost my family. I’m already mocked for the boats I build. I always wanted to go look for the People of Queen Mer. Maybe now is the time. Bring your sister. We’ll go together.”

  “Sure,” Tamerlan said gently. The boy was big-hearted and far too generous. Tamerlan wouldn’t involve him if he didn’t have to. But what if he had to? “We’d love to go with you.”

  If he lived that long, it would even be kind of fun.

  He’d read about the People of Queen Mer, of course. They had set out from somewhere in the north in the years that the Dragonblood Plains were first building the five cities. They had been sent by prophecy to find a story of some kind and told by the same prophecy that they must not leave the water until it was found. Most of them had passed by the five cities intent on their search, but some of them – their boats battered by the waves and in need of repair and their stores low – had stayed in the five cities, working as gondoliers or ferrymen to try to make enough money to resupply and finish the journey. Either the gondola business wasn’t as lucrative as it looked, or they’d simply decided to stay because even now, generations later, they had not continued their search for the story.

  “Okay, it’s a plan. And now you go and get what you need from your rooms, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Tamerlan said, smiling slightly. He hadn’t smiled this much in ... how long? “Let me take a turn with the oar.”