If there were a hundred warships near Ostchen, in addition to the other vessels in the harbor, no wonder the lights in the Other were so blinding.
“Done,” the midwife said, clipping her last stitch and winding a clean bandage around my arm.She tied it off and patted my knee maternally, then sat back and held out a hand.“Three dettes.”
Grant paid her and we left.As the scent of the sea and the prickle of fog replaced the woodsmoke and herb aroma of the house, I nodded Grant back towards the bridge that led to the mainland, though I was too slow to take the lead, lightheaded and still feeling drained.
The tide had swept back to reveal acres of tidal mud, piles of refuse and boulders and posts clung about with sea fauna and mussels.
“We may not have time to findHart,” I said.Our boots echoed too loudly on the bridge, wide enough for a cart but with more than a few rotting boards and a rail white with gull droppings.The responsible birds spun overhead, shrieking as the sun neared the western horizon and the sky began to blossom with pink and orange.“Our escaping with word of that fleet is now paramount.The Mereish must be on the cusp of invasion, and with their new magecrafts?We are helpless.”
Grant paused to let a man and his clutch of children pass.A trail of day laborers came behind them, grimy and chatting away in a dialect so thick I hardly understood.
“What do we do, then?”Grant asked.“If we cannot findHart… We need a ship.”
“We take one.”I rubbed the back of my neck with my good hand.“Damn, circumstances could not be worse.Though the darkness of the first Black Tide will certainly be an advantage, if we time our escape properly.Otherwise, we may be stranded longer.”
We joined the main road heading back into Ostchen, going against the flow of workers and shoppers returning home.A few curious glances came our way, but the closer we came to the jumbled rise of buildings, docks and little islands, the more ignored we were.I began to note figures in the dark everywhere I looked, down beneath stilt houses and docks.Scavengers, recovering what they could and tapping mussels off the supports of their homes.
“It could get better,” Grant pointed out with a wry grin.“There are so many ways it could get better.”
A chittering snapped my gaze to the shadows between two barrels, where an impling crouched.Not the one with the collar, but the juvenile I had sent to look forHart.
Hastily I beckoned Grant off the road and behind the barrels.The impling vanished and reappeared, thin talons clacking, and looked up at me with a disturbingly earnest face.
“I have found the stag.”The creature’s voice was high and frail, somehow both branches scraping in a high wind and the hiss of water through a cracked hull.
Grant made an undignified, choking sound.“Itspeaks?”
I spared him a glance.“Apparently so.”I crouched slowly in front of the diminutive monster.“Where is the ship?”
The creature blinked its small, burnt-orange eyes and pointed north.“With the ships.”
“Can it be more specific?”Grant asked.
The impling’s tiny gaze moved to him and narrowed even further.
Hope ignited in me like oil-soaked tinder.“Please lead us there, but discreetly.Can you do that?”
It nodded eagerly and flickered half out of sight.When it spoke again, its voice was the hushed rasp of sand, falling through open fingers.
“This way.”
THIRTY-NINE
The Serpent and the Stars
MARY
By midnight, the halls were quiet.Tane and I waited, poised at my door as the last footsteps of a guard on their rounds faded and silence reigned.
Are you ready?I asked Tane in the quiet of our mind.
In response, a wash of traitorous indigo light rushed down my hands and into the door, which promptly swung open and almost struck me in the face.
Two figures peered inside.Halfway through grabbing a chair to brandish—tottering dubiously as I did—I froze.
“Olsa?”I croaked.My eyes darted between the two.“Illya?”
“Hello, Mary.”Olsa gave the room a practical sweep, naked sword in hand.They both looked whole, if tired, Olsa with her blond hair raked into a practical tuft and Illya… well, Illya frequently looked as if he’d just walked out of a storm, so today was no different.
