“Right.” When she opened them once more, fire ignited over her shoulder, Vi gripped the spine of her journal between her teeth and they descended.
The ladder ended at the end of a tunnel pathway that left them with only one way to go. She walked with a hand along the wall until the glow of the flame merged with the light of moonlight shining off craggy rock. Then, Vi extinguished her fire, giving time for her eyes to adjust, and headed out toward the silver moonlight that bled through a crack at the end of the tunnel.
Squeezing herself through, Vi emerged onto a rocky path along the cliff-edge, just as Samri had described.
“Careful,” Vi said over her shoulder. Jayme was also pushing herself though. “It’s—”
“Narrow and windy.” Jayme finished, clinging to the wall as she emerged.
The wind howled, threatening to rip Vi’s cloak off. Holding on to it was no better, as it only became a sail that could pull her down onto the rocky waves below. She may have been better without a cloak, as Jayme was.
One hand on the stones next to her, Vi turned right and began walking downward.
They walked for nearly an hour, inching along narrow sections of stone and the remnants of water-worn pathways from centuries of storms. The cliff ledge above them gradually lowered, until it wrapped around and dropped the two women off on a small platform behind a rusted gate. Vi gave it a pull; while it squealed in protest, it wasn’t locked.
“Put your hood up,” Jayme suggested. “All the way, I’ll keep a look out.”
Adjusting her hood over her head and linking arms with Jayme, she stepped into the streets of Norin for the second time in two days, this time under vastly different circumstances.
“Do you know where we are?” Jayme asked, her voice still hushed and tense.
“Make a left here,” Vi suggested. “Anywhere down and away from the Le’Dan manor is best.”
Eventually, the streets connected with one she recognized from her earlier wanderings around the rich shopping district. Jayme seemed to recognize it as well, and with their location known, they immediately struck out on a direct course for the docks.
Sailors already bustled about, heaving huge nets and crab traps onto ships. Most of the energy was around what appeared to be fishing vessels, so her focus remained on the other, quieter ships.
TheDawn Skipperwas as quiet as it had been the last time Vi had wandered here, and she approached the vessel with tense anticipation.
A man sat on the thick post beside the boat’s lowered gangplank. He had his arms folded over his chest, chin almost lowered on them as he dozed while sitting upright. He jerked awake, and a moment later his eyes were clear and appraising.
“We’re looking for Marcus.” Vi kept her voice quiet.
“You found him.” The man’s voice reminded Vi of the rumbling crash of waves, and with it she felt a shift of magic about him. All in her head, perhaps… but she would bet he was a Waterrunner. “Are you the girls Lord Le’Dan mentoined? The daughters of one of his servants who wants to take up seafaring? Holly and Arwyn, was it?”
Holly—yet another new name. It made sense to retire Yullia. That name was likely to be discovered as her alias. She didn’t want it to trail across the sea as well. Best to let Yullia die on the Main Continent.
She glanced at Jayme, wondering how her friend felt about her own false name. She didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest. “Arwyn,” she said with a nod.
“And I’m Holly.”
“Right, then, on the boat with you both.” Marcus led them up the creaking gangplank that squeaked with every crest of the water beneath. Vi followed close behind, not looking back once. “The Lord was gracious enough to send your things ahead.”
“He’s a generous man,” Vi murmured, inspecting the ship’s main deck. There was a sloping rise to the quarterdeck in the back, but otherwise not much else. It was a noticeable contrast to the sumptuousness she’d come to associate with the Le’Dan aesthetic.
“While he made clear your goals for this voyage—” Marcus stopped speaking long enough to give them a look that spoke volumes, “I’ll expect you to pull your weight while aboard.”
“I’m stronger than I look,” Vi assured him.
“Me as well.”
He snorted. “I have men for the heavy lifting. How are you each with cooking? Or cleaning?”
Vi would’ve preferred the heavy lifting—at least it’d come with some direction, she assumed. Vi had never cleaned her own rooms or cooked her own food in her life. Still, she didn’t want to make a fuss and was certain she could manage. “I can’t speak to cooking, but how hard can scrubbing be?”
“Not cooking for you, then. Mare will still have the responsibility of ration management.”
“I can help Mare,” Jayme offered quickly. “I’m a confident cook.”
