The High Priests of the Everdawn were diligent in their duty. They would sound the bell at every waver, letting the entire Kingdom know to prepare for Chancellor Iprix Hagan’s passing.
It shocked Erinna three months ago, but had since become a morbid comfort.
The rest of the nation, however, dreaded the imminent passing of the beloved mage. Chancellor Iprix Hagan had served generations of Tarthan kings and queens, had brought prosperity to the small island kingdom, and built the esteemed Academy of the Arcanum. Yet, Erinna couldn’t care less about an old man who had been reduced to a bumbling old fool by thetime she was born. Right now, she had more pressing concerns. Where in all the hells was her father and their charges?
She broke her nervous pace at the front of the dock, scanning the inky horizon where the star-speckled sky bled into roiling black water.
The cool saltwater breeze brushed against her cheeks, carrying with it the scent of brine and seaweed. She steadied her breathing, letting the rhythmic lap of waves against the pilings anchor her restless thoughts.
Eventually, her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Silhouettes emerged in the distance—dark shapes materializing against the darker sea. The crest of a large wave, small fishing vessels bobbing close to port, the outline of an unfamiliar boat…
Her heart hammered in her chest. “Rexin, there’s someone out there!”
With a speed that defied his frame, Rexin was at Erinna’s side with a scope in hand. “I swear those navy rats have been everywhere these days,” he grumbled, working the scope across the bay, searching for the boat Erinna spotted. “Nothin’ there, kid.”
“But I was sure I saw something.” She shook her head in disbelief, taking the scope for herself. Nothing but choppy water.
“Sorry,” she muttered, unease still crawling beneath her skin. Rexin patted Erinna’s shoulder and returned to his perch, lighting another match and warming his pipe.
Finally, the familiar scuff of boots sounded on the moor, accompanied by the hurried and uneven gait of their clients. Erinna turned to greet them. Her father emerged from the shadows first, his broad shoulders cutting a familiar silhouette against the dark.
His eyes swept the docks with practiced vigilance. Two hooded figures trailed close behind him, their faces buried beneath deep cowls.
The members of the Kellori family were the evening’s charges. Nama Kellori tried to calm the restless child in her arms. Her husband, Ivan, marred by fatigue, struggled beneath the sacks that held the last remnants of their lives on Tarth.
“You’re late.” Erinna sent her father, Kenneth, a pointed stare. He smiled and shrugged a bag off his shoulder, depositing it into his daughter’s hands before starting up the gangplank, leaving the family in Erinna’s charge. “Be nice,” he said low enough for only Erinna to hear before disappearing on the deck.
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her relief that they had finally arrived, safe and unharmed. The ship creaked softly against the pier, and in the silence of night, Erinna could hear the shifting of crates on deck.
Three other men were already on board. They were hired hands from their merchant benefactor, Broman. Erinna hated dealing with that coinrat, but he had a large wallet, and the Yarrows had deep pockets—both families required their work to be untraceable. She did rest easy knowing their loyalty to each other was based on mutually assured destruction.
Erinna turned to the family, holding a hand up in a signal for them to wait. Kenneth would let them know when it was safe for the Kelloris to board—when Broman’s men had finished all they needed to. They were so close to completing the mission. Get the Kelloris settled below decks and pray no one stopped the boat before it reached neutral waters.
“My apologies, Miss Yarrow. We tried to get here as fast as possible, but…” Ivan started, voice trailing off in exhaustion as he adjusted the bags in his hands.
“It’s all right.” She tried to offer a reassuring smile. It was an impossibly difficult situation. Stay and give up the rights to their daughter, or flee and bear the marks of traitors.
A low whistle sounded from the boat. It was time to get them settled. “Let’s just get you on the ship.” Erinna gatheredthe smaller bags from the man and ushered the couple toward the roughly repaired vessel. It would sail, thanks to Kenneth’s magic, but the voyage would be less than ideal.
Another gong sounded.
Erinna swore it was louder this time and sooner than expected. The last thing they needed was to be caught smuggling an aberrant away from Tarth while the esteemed Chancellor wasted away on his deathbed.
Aberrants were born with Talents that defied the divine blessing of magic, according to the latest fanatical installment in the Everdawn Doctrine. Such individuals were touched by the Unseen Gods, born a crime that bore a death sentence or worse—reformation.
They were claimed first and foremost by the king and given two options in life. Spend the rest of their days in royal service, undergoing torture meant to treat their affliction, or die.
The child in Nama’s arms ceased being theirs once her Talent manifested. To steal her away was an affront to the royal court and met with harsh punishment or death. Death would be a mercy.
The scars across Rexin’s eyes and the crooked bend in his fingers spoke of the nicer consequences should one be suspected of fraternizing with an unclaimed aberrant.
Tarth was a wonderful nation for the magically gifted, so long as it was within the schools deemed natural by the church of the Everdawn.
The least the Yarrows could do was provide a third option. A new life. Shipwrights were uniquely poised to smuggle things away when needed.
Erinna tossed the luggage on deck with an unceremonious thud before freeing her hands to help the young mother aboard. Warm brown eyes peeked from beneath her hood, and a dark curl escaped a hastily made bun.
They hardly had time to dress in their usual wealth, and Erinna had been adamant that high-value goods be sealed, hidden, and never worn during the journey. The glint of gold and shine of pearl would attract pirate attention from miles away on the sea. Erinna didn’t know how their operation hadn’t suffered at the hands of seafaring brigands, but thanked the Mother Goddess for their fortune.
