“We moved at night, Erinna, don’t over?—”
“Tonight, you moved under the cover of darkness, but what about yesterday? Damien said the Professor was in class, wearing the same outfit as the day before. According to him, she seemed more nervous than usual.”
The wood on Kenneth’s armrest creaked in response to his well-hidden fury as he leaned forward in his chair, darkness in his eyes. “I thought you stopped talking to that academy boy.”
“Dad,” Erinna rejoined, holding her father’s stare until he eventually caved, sinking back into his chair. Her father had never been fond of the academy. Neither was Erinna.
The Academy of the Arcanum was one of Iprix’s grand achievements, and what made the small island kingdom a force to be reckoned with among the four Great Continents. Arcanum—the threads that filled the world with magic—was Tarth’s largest resource. With the highest density of well-trained mages and a globally renowned academy dedicated to its craft, not even the continental kingdoms could deny Tarth’s might.
But the Synod of the Everdawn had sunk its rotten claws into the institution and spoiled it from the inside. It had gotten worse ever since Dean Harrowood had been appointed. He was a devout follower of the Everdawn and, worse, subscribed to the fanaticism that aberrants were lesser beings, spoiled at birth by the Unseen Gods. He trained mages—enforcers—how to hunt aberrants. Preached of the horrors an unreformed aberrant could do. Turned mages against each other. Against people like her.
Erinna shivered and wrapped her hands tighter around her cup of tea. Not every mage had bought into it, Erinna had to believe. There were still professors who fought against such ideology. Like Nama. Erinna knew Damien was like that too.He was kind, caring, and the closest friend she had. Before his enrollment, he had been welcome in the house with open arms. It wasn’t fair to forsake him.
“You know what will happen if they find you,” Kenneth warned, breaking through the tense silence.
“Of course I know. I’ve known my whole damned life,” Erinna shot back. Regret flashed across Kenneth’s features.
Erinna had lived her entire life knowing how dangerous it would be if she came across an Enforcer. It didn’t matter how weak her power had become—hells, there were moments Erinna forgot she even had a Talent—it meant nothing. The night her Talent first bloomed beneath her skin had sealed her fate—one of constant secrets. Constant hiding.
Erinna had been a child, nodding off in her father’s arms when she saw it. A ghostly apparition stalking the street outside a tavern. She didn’t understand it at first. Not until the spirit sawher. Then it knew she could see it—could respond. It opened its mouth and screamed.
Erinna shoved the unwelcome memories from her head, burying them deep in her consciousness. There were more pressing matters at hand. “I just mean that we have to be more careful with our operations, especially with the number of guards that have been dispatched lately.”
Kenneth raised the steaming mug to his lips, mumbling imperceptibly into his tea. Erinna was too focused on her anxiety to care about his complaints. Every risk he took impacted them all—the business, his friends, his family.
“There have been more navy patrols around the harbor. It will be a miracle if Rexin can make the voyage without being spotted,” Erinna continued. She gulped down her drink and placed the cup on the achingly ornate side table crafted by Kenneth’s own two hands. “At least run things by me so we can plan better.”
In truth, Erinna would be little help during this trade-off. Kenneth initiated the voyage in such a rush they barely had time to request access to Broman’s old witchstone mines. And of course, that greedy merchant applied a rush charge for emergency use of the abandoned mines he still owned. Kenneth didn’t even use them, despite Erinna’s incessant pleas.
She sighed, adding to her never-ending to-do list. Broman’s men loaded more than agreed upon, so she could probably recoup the cost of the unnecessary fee. Everything had been going haywire since those bells started ringing. Lately, the gongs sounded multiple times a day, and even more at night.
Both Yarrows stared out the window, waiting for the tension to subside. The ocean was dark ink beneath the night sky. Rexin would be sailing dark with no one but Broman’s men and the Kellori family for help. At least Nama was a powerful mage. Transmutation would be somewhat useful at sea. She could strengthen the hull temporarily and protect the ship against sharp rocks if needed.
They had a chance, a very slim one, of making it to the Initian Islands with minimal complications.
“I have a few things to take care of these next few mornings, but I can secure you a ride to Crown Quarter for the day of the meeting,” Kenneth offered.
Erinna aimed a sharp stare his way. Every instinct buzzed with the need to know what he was planning—what secrets was he keeping, what were those vague and guarded plans?
But they’d been through this before, and Erinna was growing weary of these fights. Secrets clung to her parents like shadows, but only her father was alive to ask. Erinna choked down the dull ache of grief that still surfaced whenever she thought about her mother for too long.
“I’ve secured a ride, actually.” She picked intently at a stray thread on her shirt. Anything to avoid her father’s scrutiny.
His brow twitched up. “It’s not that academy boy, is it?”
“He has a name, Dad.”
Kenneth’s groan was half protest, half warning. He folded his arms across his chest in disapproval.
“Tell me your sordid plans,” she countered, “and I won’t meet with him.”
Silence answered. It always did.
They had been playing this game since she started working full-time at the family shipyard. Erinna demanded answers; Kenneth evaded with vague answers or silence altogether.
In rebellion, she decided she would have her own secrets then. Admittedly, her amorous escapades were far less interesting than whatever her father did in the dead of night or early rays of morning. Only now, the stakes felt heavier. Whatever her father was hiding, it didn’t feel like old family business anymore.
Another gong rang out.
