“I’d be a much better option.” Kane gestured to his own person and winked.
“You’re a fucking liar, you bastard,” the shorter one spat, turning back to his victim. His companion unabashedly roamed his body in consideration. Kane leaned as close to the bars as he could.
Hellfire roiled in his veins, and Kane dug into his infernal nature. He could see wickedness and shame roll off the guards in waves.
The two halfwits had ventured into a prison with no abjurative wards to protect against attacks of arcanum. They relied too heavily on the protections woven into the walls and bars, but Kane didn’t have the same kind of Talent as the mages of this kingdom. He had Grace—an older power, a more natural way to manipulate arcanum. Those fools barely gave it consideration, and it showed in their sloppy work.
With the last bit of energy he could muster, Kane snapped his finger, and their pant legs were set ablaze. It required more concentration than usual, likely the effects of the nullifications woven into the bars and stone of the prison, but Kane was a powerful enough caster to overcome it.
The two men ran howling from the prison as Kane stumbled back onto his lumpy cot. The energy he would normally use toheal had been wasted on saving a woman who could barely say her own name.
He would have to think more carefully. He was too close to the finish line to suffer these mistakes.
A gong rang from the surface. A signal that he was one more skipped breath closer to his goals.
He glanced at his neighbor and found the young woman crouched by the bars. Her light blonde hair was untamed, stained brown from dirt. She stared at him with wide brown eyes.
“Can I help you?” He raised an eyebrow and waited for a response. She offered no words of thanks. Not even a grunt or whimper of appreciation. He shrugged.
Silence settled back into the air around him. A faint gong filtered its way even to the depths of the prison. The Chancellor would be dead any day now. It was Kane’s countdown to freedom.
Just as the pirate settled for the night, the sound of scuffling footsteps echoed through the hall, but not in the direction the guards usually came from.Ah, Kane thought. He heard of this man before.
The stranger’s black cloak fluttered behind him as he slinked through the cells, a torch held in his hand. His hood moved, face pointed briefly at the diviner. The wood creaked as he gripped it tighter, and the flames flickered violently in response. Kane could feel the slightest whisper of arcanum from the interloper. It was gone as quickly as it came.
The man stopped at Kane’s cell. There was a thud as a bundle of new clothes was shoved through the bars, along with his old coat. How the hells did this man find his coat?
“Atwater?” the stranger asked.
Kane raised a brow in shocked interest but didn’t offer a reply.
“I have a deal for you.”
Chapter
Four
Erinna loved the dockside market in the morning. Despite the early hour, the place was vibrant and alive. Vendors readied their brightly decorated stalls, and merchants lovingly placed their wares out on display, all while dockhands busied themselves, lugging cargo on and off vessels.
It was much busier these past few months, Erinna noted as she journeyed through Harbor Market. A few navy ships patrolled the water and directed foreign vessels to their offboarding destination.
In the distance, a large passenger ship that bore the crest of Aloria waited to dock. It was the largest kingdom in the Great East, and an uncommon visitor to the island. There was no doubt in Erinna’s mind that they came to pay their respects to the renowned Chancellor.
A mage didn’t become the father of modern magic without some level of international fame, and Iprix had more than lived up to his name.
The bell tolled from the Chancellor’s tower. Another skipped breath.
Erinna’s jaw clicked as she clenched her teeth, resisting the impulse to pace. Whatever peace she’d known a moment agowas gone, replaced by sobering reality. In a few hours, she would be meeting with Captain Wayne Barker of the Royal Navy, negotiating the biggest deal of the year, all while the beloved Chancellor inched closer and closer to death with every passing moment.
Sweat built on her palms. Erinna wished she had the confidence that all but rolled off her father. That trait had certainly skipped over her, replacing it with a less-than-healthy dose of worry.
She turned her focus to the bustling streets. Her friend would be there soon, and she didn’t want to miss him among the growing crowd.
Harbor Market was an amalgam of cultures and goods from the four continents, mixed with Tarth’s local merchant class.
Spices from the Great South seeped their heady, herbal aroma into the air as street chefs grilled local catches. Fabrics from kingdoms in the Great East were displayed in a few of the higher-end vending stalls.
The morning light glinted off metal trinkets from the Great West. A dragonfly hairpin caught her attention. The delicate curve of the wings, the fine craft of the tail. Erinna’s hand went instinctively to her braid, imagining how it would look in her own dark brown hair.
