I don’t want to die.
I want to avenge my people.
I bow and Luwalhati places her hands on the top of my head. A blessing. An order.
“Retrieve the relics from our enemy’s hands. Resurrect the Drowned City. Bring back the Kingdom of Waves. Let Ophir rise again.” With those words, Luwalhati vanishes.
CHAPTER THIRTYGIN
As Luwalhati promised, when we awake, we find ourselves washed ashore, hidden near the cliffside where we were dropped off earlier. Eban sends a flare up and we’re picked up by Darius’s crew and headed back to the Lashing. Darius will no doubt be disappointed at our failure to recover the relics, but after our boat capsized and we almost drowned, we just want to come back and regroup before attempting another heist. Ever since the bonding, all my thoughts are far clearer. Sharper. The doubts I used to have, the second-guessing, no longer exist. My growing feelings for Eban are self-explanatory, matter-of-fact. I trust him implicitly. We share the same goal. Perhaps one day we will be more than friends. I think I would like that, and I think that maybe he would, too.
I’m happy to return, but Eban is apprehensive, guarded. Though it isn’t only about the Lashing; he’s been like this ever since the trials. I know he’s agonized that he did not achieve the bonding. I wonder what happened, what he saw, whether it was similar to mine or something different. He hasn’t offered up any information, and I know better than to ask. I wish I could comfort him somehow, assure him that everything will be all right, that he’ll succeed with the next trial—that there will evenbea next trial—but of course, I cannot. Because I don’t know that it will.
The Lashing twinkles faintly in the dawn. Evening candles have waned, and so only the barest sliver of light illuminates the colony, a collection of black shapes rising from the sea, like a shadow cast of the bright, magic world lying deep below it. Gentle waves lap up against the docks. Seagulls swoop by overhead. A still, calm morning. A handful of fishermen are already out, gathering their nets and packing up their boats for a long day ahead. When they spot us headed toward the city, they congregate around the edge of the wharf to welcome us back. It’s a stark contrast from the first time we showed up, when hostile faces and weapons were pointed in our direction.
The men, withered and lean from a lifetime of sun and physical labor, pull the boat in and secure it to thick metal rings with graying, frayed rope. “Do you know where we can find Darius?” I ask them.
“Hopefully he’s here and not off on one of his ‘missions,’” Eban says under his breath.
I don’t acknowledge his comment. No matter what, Darius is Ophir, and the leader of the Lashing. He welcomed us here when we had nowhere else to go.
The man points toward the heart of the city. “Should be in his quarters, as far as I know.”
I thank him, and then Eban and I head to Darius’s tent. All the others have their doorways still tied shut; the community is hushed, most still asleep, or in the case of the night watch, just going to bed, though I catch the occasional muted conversation coming from within. Some people are waking up for the day, preparing to work, tending to small children. Their tiny pattering footsteps run from place to place. There are lingering scents from the prior evening’s supper mixed with the fresh sea air. There’s a homey feeling I’ve always hoped for but never fully experienced. The closest was at the pleasure house, at least the initial weeks I spent there, when I felt like I had something resembling a family, a stable one, unlike the ragtag collection of thieves who resided with Aris. At House Eternal, I was well aware I never belonged, no matter how much I wished otherwise. I wonder if the Lashing is my home now.
Darius’s tent is closed like the others. Anyone from Lacon would never know the community’s leader is housed there; it’s indistinguishable from the rest. A testament to the Ophir way of life. I knock softly on the wood frame.
Darius pulls aside the curtain. “You two. Took a while. Did you get the relics?” he asks groggily. He’d clearly been up late.
Eban doesn’t bother with formalities or small talk. “Not yet, but we will. We have some information and we know how to get to the vault in House Dominant.”
We set off from the Lashing later that day while the rest of the world is settling in for the evening. I watch the city disappear behind us. It seems like I’m always saying goodbye, never settling in anywhere. The sky grows darker until it becomes one with the sea. Darius manages the ship. I stand guard, energized by how keen my senses are in the dark. I can hear the currents, the sea life cutting through the water around the ship, and even sense their curiosity about the vessel. There’s a storm far to the west, but it won’t reach us. I’m tuned in to all the life energy around me.
Darius invites us into his captain’s quarters to talk strategy. We tell him about the secret passageway we’ve learned about that leads to the vault.
“The cove is here, so if you take us there, we’ll find the tunnel and make our way to the underground network underneath the estate,” Eban says, pointing to a spot on the nautical map spread out on the table.
“I have a better idea,” Darius says. “House Dominant set out a call for more workers. My sources tell me Lord Talavera is planning an old-fashioned tournament. They need more workers than ever before. That tunnel you speak of is hidden even deeper in the rocks. It will be almost impossible to land on that beach. This way will be much easier.”
Eban and I exchange glances. “You want us to pose as servants,” Eban says flatly.
Darius leans back and kicks up his feet on the table. “Much easier, don’t you think? We’ll practically be walking in through the front door.”
He has a point. Who knows how long it would take to find the tunnel through the mountain that leads to House Dominant. We could be lost there for hours before we found the right passageway.
“But we’ll be surrounded by estate guards and Blackcoats,” Eban argues. “How will we get away to get to the vault?”
“Servants are often sent to a changing room after they’re hired. They don’t want us in our Ophir rags. We’ll take that opportunity to slip away, and if we get into trouble, there’s three of us. I think between you and me, we can take down a couple of them,” Darius says loftily.
Eban grunts.
“So, we’re agreed, then? We will join the caravan from the Sleeve that’s making its way to House Dominant.”
“I don’t like it,” Eban says. “But we’ll do it your way.”
“Excellent,” Darius says.
We retire to our cabins. I wake up when I hear a noise in front of mine and find Eban pacing back and forth on the deck. “Eban,” I say. “Maybe you should try to get some sleep?” His nervous energy is putting me on edge.
