Devout followers of the Everdawn dropped to their knees in prayer. The crowd murmured quick blessings, and a few vendors seemed ready to pack up their wares.
On instinct, Erinna used the moment of distraction to look for any chance to help the young aberrant. Four academy mages stood between the crowd and the captives. Wards of abjurations glinted faintly in the sun’s yellow-orange rays. Even if she could get through their spells, half a dozen naval soldiers stood at the ready. All for Kane. The young woman barely had the strength to hold herself up.
Kenneth took a step closer to the platform. Erinna reached an arm out to stop him before he tried something foolish. Before he did something he couldn’t take back.
“We promised Broman payment today,” she reminded him, swallowing the guilt that churned her stomach. “You know what happens when we’re late.”
She tugged him away, forcing her own legs to retreat from the gallows. If there had been any opening, Erinna would have taken it. But there was no way to approach unseen. It would be best to continue their errands and ensure they were able to continue to provide aberrants a route of safety. A path that didn’t end in servitude or at the noose.
Broman’s stallwas extravagant to say the least. Three large tables were arranged beneath a large fabric tent, boasting a mix of false and real uncut witchstone. Hired guards stood with swords at their hips. Two displayed magic permission passes around their neck. It was entirely unnecessary.
For a man who got half his fortune on the black market, Erinna thought that subtlety would be the way of survival. But Broman was a witchstone trader. He owned some of the largest veins in the kingdom and nearly supplied the entire Academy with the arcanum boosting material. The man was nearly untouchable. Nearly.
Fortunately for the Yarrows, he was more interested in how much undocumented or counterfeit stone he could ship out on their escape vessels than prying. His secrecy and ability to access those mines came with a price. An expensive one.
Felar Broman himself sat in front with his wife and daughter beside him. Erinna liked his daughter, Nyla. She was eighteen and had just gotten into the Academy. The budding summoner was the apple of her father’s eye, but Nyla didn’t know ofhis underhanded dealings. As far as she knew, Kenneth and Erinna were just pleasant business partners who took some of that money in exchange for carting his illicit substances off the island.
The guards tensed as they approached.
Broman waved his hand with a flourish. “Easy, Station One. These are friends of ours.”
“He has a name, you know.” Erinna crossed her arms and leaned against a sturdy post. The shadow from the purple fabric covering his stall offered a small reprieve from the sun.
Broman ignored Erinna to the best of his ability. It was never pretty when the two of them were left alone to bicker and squabble.
Another gong sounded, and a few mages scurried to the ground for quick reverence.
The many visitors were good for business of late, but once Iprix made his way to the Realm Beyond, there would be a high cost to pay. Anyone with wits understood that. Even with two apprentices, there would be a power disruption to contend with.
Some feared it would embolden the kingdoms from the Great West, entice them to break the tenuous treaty and claim the island kingdom for themselves.
Erinna doubted it. Even without the mighty Chancellor, Tarth still had the academy. A few well-trained mages could wipe out a battalion, handily.
“My favorite shipwright!” Broman exclaimed, clasping Kenneth’s forearm in greeting. The man was short, even shorter than Erinna, who was by no means blessed in height, but his presence was large and loud. Red cheeks and nose betrayed his midday activities, and Erinna swore she could smell brandy on his breath. He had likely stopped by Laerte’s Keep, but Broman’s gambling habits were none of their concern.
Erinna pulled out another payment pouch and tossed it on the desk.
“That is only a quarter of what you owe.” His smile was still bright despite the dripping threat from his tone. The guards moved almost imperceptibly, but from the corner of her eye, Erinna could see their hands hovering just above their blades.
She plastered her own smile and patted the bulging sack beneath her coat. “How about you hand us some items to buy so it doesn’t seem so obvious that we are paying you off.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes. Pristine witchstone soaked the light into its indigo blue surface. A few small pendants hung on ornate iron holders. Half of them were fake obsidian rock but marked at double their value. Broman pushed the counterfeit rocks towards them. Erinna rolled her eyes and dumped the rest of the payment on the counter. Greedy, thick fingers brushed the coins into a brightly decorated box.
“Do you have anything else?” Kenneth clenched his fists at his side, almost white-knuckled. Broman raised an eyebrow, but the druid was in no mood to play games.
The merchant begrudgingly placed a letter in front of him. Erinna tried to grab it, but her father was faster. He feverishly ripped open the blank wax seal. “Dad, what in all the hells is going on?” Erinna felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Nothing to worry about, just a quick errand for me to take care of.” He shoved the letter into his pocket and turned to leave into the throng of people.
“Dad!” Erinna grabbed his sleeve before he could get any farther.
“Erinna, please. I can’t get you involved.” He used her hold to pull her close, planting a quick kiss to the top of her head, mumbling something under his breath. Erinna tightened her hold on his sleeve, hoping to keep him there for as longas possible. But her father still managed to pull free. To slip between her fingers.
With a quick wave of his hand, the ground shifted in response to his Talent, momentarily seizing Erinna’s feet in a thick, muddy trap as Kenneth disappeared into the growing crowd.
He would pay for this, she seethed. A guaranteed argument that would last through the night. Erinna took a step in the direction her father went before?—
“We’re not done yet, Miss Yarrow,” Broman sing-songed and pulled out a few more contracts to negotiate. She cursed and clenched her hands into fists as she returned to the merchant. One deal down, a few more to go in preparation for winter operations. Even if her bones screamed to follow her father, she knew the shipyard couldn’t afford to ignore their contemptuous business bedfellow. If Kenneth wasn’t free to negotiate, it would be Erinna. As it always was.
