I shook my head, turning to Iradîo to ask what she had demanded of Tallu when there was a massive explosion. We could see it even from the ocean, a brilliant light that broke the night, almost as bright as the dawn behind us.
Thirteen
No one was chasing us. We traveled fast, the electro mages running the ships working with the sailors so that each ship kept pace.
Seeing the Imperium from the ocean, I was reminded of the weeks it had taken Eonaî and me to get to the Imperium. We had passed familiar coastline, lands filled with pines and other fragrant evergreens, the last hint of frost melting off the branches.
Then we had hit Dragon’s Rest Mountains, the faraway range that had always marked the limit of both our view and our hope. They had seemed small in the distance, yet they had towered above us when the ship passed them—peaks so tall it would have taken years to climb them, pinnacles made of jagged ice and snow so thick that not even conifer trees could grow on them.
Faced with their majesty, I had understood why the Imperium had failed to cross them.
I remembered holding my sister’s hand on the deck as we watched the mountains pass, knowing it was the last time we were ever going to see the Northern Kingdom. We would never again see my mother’s great hall or watch the winter snows cover ourlands. We would never again hear the tales told around a campfire as they had been told to every generation of northerners before us.
Going south again on an imperial ship left me with a similar sense of uncertainty. All I knew of the Imperium was the land around the palace, and the familiarity of that was disappearing with each league we traveled.
Seabirds fished along the coastline, and the houses went from the terracotta roofs popular in the inner Imperium to steep thatched roofs and houses built on stilts to withstand winter storms and floods. We passed fishing villages at a distance, their small boats built differently than the ones we had taken from Lady Jolushi.
I spent most of my time above deck, working over and over in my head the anxiety I had expressed to Tallu. Tavornai was massive. How could I hope to find Spider in its many islands?
It would be like walking into the northern ice fields and hoping to see the great northern bear.
My thoughts were still running in circles, chasing each other, as Tallu slept beside me, his body so still and his breath so even that I continuously checked the whole night to make sure his illness hadn’t taken him, that my husband still lived.
The sails were drawn, and the hum of the motor vibrated throughout the ship, the only sign that we were still moving, guided by stars and experience. General Saxu had proven more useful than any of the sailors on the ship.
They had never traveled further than the rivers leading to the Imperial Capital; although they knew how to sail on open ocean in theory, they had never done it in practice.
Beside me, Tallu snuffled, his mouth opening in a sharp gasp before he settled into quiet breathing.
I sat up, moving so gently that he didn’t even stir when I got out of bed. I dressed in silence and cracked open the door, the pressure in my throat loosening at the sight of one of Saxu’s soldiers-turned-Dogs, his blade already drawn.
He relaxed when he saw me, and I shut the door behind me, gesturing with one hand toward the deck. He nodded, and I headed up, the call of the night sky too great, the feel of Tallu’s rooms too claustrophobic.
I stopped when I reached the top stair. There were already two people on deck. I narrowed my eyes, squinting in the dim light toward the single lantern set between them.
The Kennelmaster grinned at his companion, and it was the first time I had ever seen such an expression on his face. Iradîo snorted, rolling her shoulders to dislodge his hand. He let it fall to his side, turning back to the dark waters.
What did the two of them have to talk about? Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps they were merely exchanging experiences as spymasters for two separate nations. Perhaps they had formed some attachment, both reporting to Tallu only to have their advice ignored.
I crept forward, keeping to the shadows, my body low even as I finally reached the mainmast, hiding behind the enormous pillar of wood.
I heard snatches of words.
“… forgive… never… how can I show…”
My mind spun. The Kennelmaster coughed, loud and harsh, the sound thick and vibrating as though his lungs were about to come up through his mouth.
“Are you satisfied?” Iradîo asked, her voice carrying in the silence as the Kennelmaster wheezed, trying to catch his breath. “With your life, with how you spent it? Are you satisfied?”
“Satisfied?” The Kennelmaster’s voice sounded raw, scraped into nothing. “How could I not be?”
The question hung between them and he shook his head where it hung between his arched shoulders, his forearms resting on the ship’s railing. Then he straightened, and I shrank even more, curling into the merest shadow, the hint of a shape in the darkness.
He took his lantern when he left, his footing steady as he made his way below deck, even as he gripped the railing in tight fingers.
I crept forward, keeping my footsteps quiet, covering my movements with the noise of sailors calling out to each other in the dark. When I was behind Iradîo, I asked, “What were you talking about?”
She jumped, spinning to search the darkness until her eyes caught on me.
