Her mother had known she was in danger.
And Ozik had sent Vaasa into this office, knowing precisely what she would find.
CHAPTER
7
Water sloshed against the side of the boat, frozen and unforgiving, as Reid’s footsteps echoed on pitted wood. He gazed out at a ship in the distance that seemed to be gaining on them.
Cold wind whipped through his hair. Running his hands along the banister, he took note of each imperfection on the Asteryan vessel that guided them through the narrow passageway separating Asterya and the Sheets; the short, clumsy thing would probably sink before they ever reached the other side. The dilapidated merchant’s boat could very well crack open at the next sharp curve, plunging them into the frozen depths.He felt the ice of it in his bones, the water in his lungs, the darkness of drowning.
Reid shivered. All he had done for days now was shake in this cold. His hands felt like stone, numb and painful. Yet as it stood, this was the only way forward.
The story the rest of the continent would hear was clear: Reid of Mireh had been injured in a battle on the far side of the Iron Peaks just a few days ago. News of his retreat would arrive in Mekës in no time, and so his lack of appearance wouldn’t raise any red flags to the Asteryans. They would mark him a coward and likely have a laugh. Reid, on the other hand, would slip in under their noses. He’d taken a branch of the Sanguine that emptied into the icy ocean on the eastern side of the continent, on the trade route between Asterya and Zataar. This particular sea was littered with cays and infested with pirates, but this had been their only hope.
Meanwhile, Kosana moved their forces to strategic locations throughout northern Asterya—ready at the drop of a hat to resume the carnage and plunge into the Loursevain Gap. He was certain the Icrurian vessels could navigate it, or at least that his forces were skilled enough sailors to make it through. All they would fight were the pirates, but Kosana had assured him it was a task she could handle.
All Reid saw was raven hair and eyes a darker shade of indigo than the midnight water he had sailed across to get to her. Vaasa had told him she loved him, hadchosenhim, and now she would be no one else’s so long as she wished it.
He was going to find her.
The captain of their ship rattled something off in Asteryan as the vessel in the distance grew even closer. It was gaining on them. Each moment it seemed to come nearer—and nearer—and nearer. Red sails whipped in the wind, no insignia upon them to mark who they sailed for. The vessel had speed, more sothan this ship, and something about the look of it caused Reid to furrow his brows. Oars broke the surface and then plunged below.
An Icrurian vessel?
Reid turned to find the merchant dipping below deck—hiding, he realized—and as Reid gazed around, the mood of the crew shifted. Apprehension threaded the deck. Reid followed the merchant down the steep ladder to the cramped crew quarters, where the man spat off rapid-fire commands at people as if the crew had no real meaning to him.
Reid’s mother sat with Koen at the only bolted-down bench, wrapped tightly in what little fabric the stingy merchant had to spare. It was too cold here for his mother. Her older bones were born and raised in the Icrurian heat. Koen’s lips were a perpetual shade of blue as he eyed the desperate merchant who sat on the edge of the bench. Thewarmmerchant. His beady gaze never shifted to Reid’s.
The man’s proximity itself was a warning—he usually didn’t come near them. Only Reid’s payment, salt by the pound, was going to save the boat beneath their feet. It was the reason the man had discreetly let their group board, Reid’s “ailing” mother another part of their guise. So far, it seemed the merchant hadn’t pinpointed who they really were. Their considerable resources depicted them as wealthy and lucky, someone with enough money and reason to travel to Mekës—and desperate, given his mother’s supposed illness and the fresh border war. But their accents and Reid’s lack of language revealed them to be anything but Asteryan, so the only hope was that the merchant believed them victims of the war Reid himself had started rather than a high witch, a councilor-elect, and the man who would be Icruria’s headman in a matter of months.
The boat came to a halt. Scurrying footsteps sounded on the main deck, and then thud after thud after thud followed. Mostof the crew members still in the hull raced toward the deck, only three staying, locking the hatch behind them.
That was when the screaming began.
Reid’s mother rose to her feet. Reid started forward, but Koen gave one sharp shake of his head. He pushed his spectacles up his nose, his hand shaking slightly.
The merchant sat uselessly upon the bench and made no effort to stand. He only rocked back and forth. Reid reached for a dagger at his waist. He would have given anything to be on one of his own ships, with compartmentalized spaces he knew like the back of his hand. To be wearing warmer clothes that prevented this ache with each movement. His ear bent to the sound of voices, muffled and speaking a language he didn’t understand.
Asteryan.
Another thud against the deck caused everyone below to go quiet.
The snapping of wood broke the silence: the lock on the hatch.
Boots appeared and slammed against the crew deck floor, carrying someone with them. A body unfurled of medium size and feminine build, and Reid was met with an audacious smile. A woman stood in front of them—light-red hair braided over both shoulders and sharp eyes the color of moss. She tilted her head. She wore animal furs and leather armor, looking warmer than all of them. Sharp blades, long and small, settled into sheaths on her thighs, waist, and arms. Full lips pursed as she looked them over, gaze landing mercilessly on the merchant. Raising her sword and pointing it at him, she spoke in Asteryan, a slight accent riding her words.
The merchant began to shake.
He looked their way, then back at her. Desperation flooded the merchant’s response, and Reid didn’t need to speak the same language to know the tone of it. He picked up on a few keywords,debtbeing the most notable. Koen stepped in front of Reid’s mother; Reid edged just slightly closer to Koen.
The red-haired woman snorted at the merchant, sliding her green eyes to them in what Reid thought might be disappointment.
Koen, who knew enough Asteryan to get them by, began to speak, and the moment he did, the woman furrowed her brow. She gestured her sword at the merchant, speaking in the common tongue of Icruria, sending shock into the pit of Reid’s stomach.
“Did you know he would sell you out so quickly? He’s just offered to let me have your entire party in exchange for me leaving his wares on his ship. A shame, I’ve been chasing this fool for months. He owes me a debt.”
Reid stepped forward. “Who are you?”
