The carriage rumbled forward. The buildings grew larger as they traveled closer to Crown Quarter. Modest homes gave way to sprawling estates and businesses that occupied entire blocks.
When the carriage finally stopped, it was before a fountain so massive Erinna could fit half her home inside its basin. A leviathan rose from the center, its stone body coiled upward in impossible spirals. Water streamed from its gaping maw. The serpent’s curved body formed each tier, each loop a basin unto itself. They had finally arrived at the royally endowed district of Crown Quarter.
Ostentatious. Erinna glared at the statue as her feet hit the ground. “Every time I look at it, I swear it’s staring back,” Damien whispered into her ear. It was clearly a joke, but something about it made the hairs on Erinna’s neck stand on end as they weaved around the garish monument, entering the main square.
Most of Crown Quarter was extravagant. Buildings gleamed with precious metal accents and large, opulent windows. The stones beneath their feet were polished and cut to perfection. Shops lined the streets with well-crafted signs above the doors. Faint floral scents decorated the breeze from manicured potted plants. Even the noise of the crowd here was muted.
Still, the buildings grew even larger in size and prominence as they ventured deeper into Crown Quarter. The palace lay just beyond her line of sight, on the bluffs at the edge of the city. A short distance ahead of them, the Chancellor’s tower rose above the structures, with the military building standing just before it.
Erinna turned to stare at the pristine path that led to the military quarters. That’s where Captain Wayne Barker’s officewould be, where she would walk out with either a heavy purse or burdensome failure. Her father was likely there, waiting for her arrival.
A faint touch against her elbow pulled her from her thoughts and growing apprehension. Erinna turned to face her friend, one eyebrow raised in question.
Damien didn’t speak at first. He pulled her close with a gentle tug, pressing her lightly into his chest. It was different than their first embrace—more intimate than a friend greeting a friend. Erinna’s breath faltered, but she welcomed the comfort.
Damien pressed his lips to the top of her head. The gesture was so light she almost didn’t notice. “Good luck today. If anyone can get that cranky old man to cave, it’s you.”
“You too.” Erinna wanted to say more, but emotion thickened her throat and tightened her chest.
With one reassuring pat against her back, Damien broke contact, the chill breeze rushing into the space he left behind.
“You got this, Eri,” he promised with a wink before turning down his own path. The one opposite Erinna’s. The farther he went, the tighter the dread in her stomach wound. In times like these, she wished for an academy ally who knew about her business and her Talent. More than that, Erinna found herself wishing—not for the first time—that there was a world in which they could be more than friends.
Her attention went to the leather bracelet, and her heart hammered once again with dull panic. It wasn’t just for aberrants, she reminded herself; it was for any Talent aimed her way. Still, Damien made it clear who he thought the enemy was. It was the reminder she needed to clear her head of what-ifs and fantasies.
Another gong sounded. It was loudest in Crown Quarter, and Erinna cringed from the noise as it rattled her eardrums.
She shook her head and reclaimed her focus. Erinna would spare no more time on what-ifs. She had a meeting to attend and a deal to make.
Chapter
Six
Erinna thanked the Mother Goddess once again that she had not been born a mage—at least, not a lawful one, anyway.
From the spacious and terribly ornate window of the captain’s office, she watched as foreign mages dressed in mourning robes journeyed toward the castle walls. The most devout would already be gathered around the Chancellor’s tower, kneeling on a slab of black marble. They’d continue their exaltations from sun-up to sundown in preparation for Iprix’s passing. Most of them were mere pilgrims from one of the great continents. Tarthan mages had already paid homage and respect when the bells first started to toll.
Another gong of the impending death bell. Erinna had lost track of how many had rung that day.
“Please,” she whispered and resumed her nervous pacing around the decorated military office. “Please wait until after we complete this deal.”
Her boots crushed delicate cloth made by the finest weavers from the Great West. The luxurious fibers dyed a blue so deep it resembled the ocean at midnight. Silver thread embroidered stars, in the image of The Great Gazer constellation. A starryvisage only visible during the winter solstice. To see it was a great blessing for a sailor and promised an easy voyage.
It was silly, Erinna thought, to have such a fine piece of craftsmanship situated in the naval ramparts overlooking the sea. Humid saltwater breezes would wreak havoc on the carpet and provided a comfortable home for mold and mildew.
Another toll of the bell.
She winced at the ringing in her ears. “Gods, just let him pass in peace.”
“Dearest, keep the blasphemies in your head.” Kenneth lounged comfortably in a red velvet chair, eyeing the bag of baked goods from Madds. If they had been meeting with anyone else, he would have dug into the buns and pastries that slept in the sack tucked beneath Erinna’s chair. But they couldn’t afford a poor first impression. Erinna had made that abundantly clear.
She bit the inside of her cheek to silence more treasonous griping. Her father was right. It would not bode well to besmirch a great pillar of the Tarthan nation.
The old mage was revered to near piety. Erinna was sure the populace prayed more to the Chancellor for wealth than to the Everdawn. But who knew how powerful the Synod of the Everdawn would become once Iprix finally passed.
Erinna bore little sentiment for the mage. He’d become a bumbling old man before she could read and was bedridden for most of her life. In his last few decades, Iprix was more a figurehead than a functional member of the king’s council. He should have stepped down a decade ago and appointed a new Chancellor.
Instead, his passivity and arrogance paved the way for the Church of the Everdawn to weave its influence, condemning poor families to misfortune in the name of faith and justice.
