“Yes, yes, that’s right. But take a seat—I’ll give you the full story,” Stilsaid.
Angelique raised her eyebrows. “Are you certain? You two looked rather comfortable before Iarrived.”
Stil smirked, but Gemma cut him off before he was able to say anything inappropriate. “Sit,” she ordered, absently resting her hand on her new pet’s head when the white canine pushed against her legs. “You deserve an explanation, and I want to thank you for your part in myrescue.”
Chapter 7
The port of Tylis—theplace where Stil’s recommended smuggler/captain made her base—was a city that had tried to stake a claim for itself in the wilds of Farset and had not entirely succeeded in itsventure.
Tylis was perched precariously on a rocky shore, invaded by the ocean to the west and boxed in by a frothing and foaming river to the south. The city technically possessed two ports—a river one with immense wooden docks, and an ocean port with ancient stone docks that were crusted with barnacles and driedsalt.
Since Captain Neely made the river port her haunt, it was there that Angelique went, dodging the impressively large trees and bushes that erupted from theground.
(Greenery seemed to ignore mankind’s attempt to build up the river port, so much so that it was not unusual to see sailors hacking back branches from trees that leaned out over the river so they could dock their vessels. Nor was it unusual to see wild animals like foxes or raccoons trot through the docks with aplomb, unbothered by humans as they went on theirway.)
Angelique watched an osprey land on the mast of a small skiff and scream at a trader until the man swore at the bird and threw a fish at it to silence it.I wonder if it’s because the elves made their home in Farset that things are so wildhere.
The citizens of Tylis didn’t seem to mind the vivid wildlife that surrounded them. Rather, the biggest trees that grew out of the port were used to fly colorful flags; fishing nets were conveniently hung over the strongest bushes to make mending them easier, and Angelique even saw a sailor let a wild forest cat on the ship, which emerged several minutes later with a large rat dangling from itsmouth.
Yes, this certainly has to be the influence of theelves.
Angelique paced the length of the river port three times before she found the ship she was looking for: WreckedLyfe.
Though the boat looked questionable—with a square sail yellowed and tattered with age and what looked like holes in the wooden bow—Angelique could faintly feel the thrum of magic around the skiff. Picking at it revealed spells for water resistance, smoother sailing, and the like—and whoever had done it wasgood.
It might look like a wreck, but those spells are worth more than many of the ships here in port. It’s ashow.
Angelique wiped her clammy hands on her clothes—she had shed her dress in favor of loose trousers, fur-lined boots, a thick linen shirt that draped almost to her knees, and a fur-lined vest that fastened under her left arm. It was warmer here in Farset than it had been in Verglas, but the wind was raw enough to turn Angelique’s skin pink, and the temperature was stillicy.
Hopefully the costume was inconspicuous enough that she wouldn’t garner attention in Zancara—something her enchantress dress would most assuredlyaccomplish.
She took a breath, then strode up to Wrecked Lyfe. “Excuse me, CaptainNeely?”
A woman, who had been wrestling with rope on a bench in the skiff, warily stood and eyed Angelique. “Who wants toknow?”
“My name is Angelique. I was given your name by craftmage Rumpelstiltskin,” Angeliquesaid.
Instantly, the other woman’s eyes lightened. “You’re the famous Angel, are you? Where’s your Evariste? From the way Stil gabbed about the two of you whenever I saw him, you are rarelyseparated.”
Her words—though said in fun—were worse than if she had stabbed Angelique with a sword. The sudden onset of her guilt and frustration swarmed her, but it was the unexpected sense oflossthat almost threatened to drownher.
Angelique’s smile tightened against the storm of her emotions. “He’s missing at the moment, though I am looking forhim.”
The woman’s broad smile turned into a grimace. “That’s right; the last time I saw him, he mentioned the Lord Enchanter was taken. My apologies for mythoughtlessness.”
Angelique tilted her head and studied the woman, noting the way her emotions were clearly broadcasted on her face.I don’t think that is accidental…“You aren’t sorry,” Angelique finally ventured. “That was a test to see if I really amAngelique.”
The woman’s over-done grimace faded into a slight quirk of her eyebrow. “Perhaps.” She didn’t look at all sorry. Instead, she agilely leaped from her boat to the dock, landing with a grunt. She flicked her long skirts—which hit her at the shins and were layered for warmth—then crossed her arms over her chest. “How can I be of service, LadyEnchantress?”
“I need to get intoZancara.”
“Oh my, but that’s illegal.” Captain Neely pressed a hand to her chest as though she mightswoon.
“Evariste might be there,” Angelique bluntly said. “I need to search it to be certain. Stil said you might be able to helpme.”
Captain Neely’s falsified shock faded. She studied Angelique, then tipped her head toward her craft. “Why don’t you step into my workshop?” She easily jumped the railing and seated herself on a wooden bench in the belly of theskiff.
Angelique hopped onto the railing and crouched there for a moment, studying theskiff.
