“It depends which side he’s working for—the ones who want to kill me or the ones who want to use me.” Her shoulders sagged. “I guess I am about to find out.”
Closer to the dock, the ship was even more massive than it had appeared, and the white-and-gold hull gleamed in the sunlight. Kiela saw the soldier-sailors swarming over the rigging, preparing to drop anchor in the deeper water of the central harbor. She calculated they’d have a few minutes while they secured the ship and then a few more while the sailors rowed to the dock in one of the multiple dinghies attached to the sides of the warship.
“We need a new plan,” Kiela said. She had magic on her shelves, didn’t she? If she could just find the right book, then surely, they could read their way out of danger. She wished they had a bit more time . . .
“Let’s get out of sight,” Bryn suggested. “We can talk inside the bakery.”
As the ship dropped anchor in the harbor, Bryn hooked her arm around Radane’s, and they strolled purposefully and not-suspiciously off the dock. As the three of them headed for the bakery, questions flew around them—“Where are you going? Don’t you want to see?” And “Who is it? Why are they here?” And “Is it a sorcerer? Have they finally sent one?”
In response to every question, Bryn repeated the same answer: She was going to make more baked goods. The new arrivals would be hungry, and she wanted to make sure her bakery was ready. She didn’t know if it was a new sorcerer. She didn’t know any more than they did, except that everyone likes baked goods so that’s what she was going to make. Probably muffins, because they’re quick. Yes, she’d use Kiela’s jam.
Kiela listened to the gossip swirl and determined the consensus was that the emperor had at last sent his sorcerers out on circuit. They were coming to end the storms, fix the islands, and unravel the mess they’d made. So far, no one had linked the ship to their resident ex-investigator, but she was certain it was just a matter of time before the words popped out of someone’s mouth and then spread.
At last, they ducked into the bakery and shut the door.
“It could be a coincidence,” Bryn said as she pulled the shutters over the windows. “You don’t know they’re looking for you, and you were caught in a storm, blown off course—they shouldn’t have any idea you’re here.”
“Even if it is a coincidence and they are not here for me, once they see me—” Radane shook her head. “I need that invisibility spell.”
“It’s not a true invisibility spell,” Kiela cautioned. She’d read the description when Radane had confessed in the cave. “It’s more of a stealth spell. It’s supposed to make your footsteps quieter and your appearance fuzzier. I don’t know if it’ll stand up to direct scrutiny. Plus I can’t guarantee it will work at all. We’ve never tried it.”
Radane began to pace back and forth in front of the bakery counter. “If they suspect my presence at all, they will search for me relentlessly. You don’t know how thorough imperial soldiers can be. They will turn over every rock on the island.”
“It’s a very poorly named spell, if anyone searching for you can still find you.” Bryn positioned herself in front of Radane and caught her in her arms mid-pace. Radane sagged against her.
Kiela had an idea. “What if they didn’t? Search, I mean.”
Both of them looked at her.
“Your ship sank, right?” Kiela said. “What if we spread the word that you drowned with it? Larran never saved you. You never reached Caltrey. If they believe that’s true, they won’t have any reason to search the island. We can hide you with a combination of the invisibility spell and the island caves until they leave.”
“I like it,” Bryn said, “but too many people know she didn’t drown, and there’s not enough time to spread the word to everyone. With my family, we had months to establish my new truth, but with only a few minutes, someone could spill the truth without ever knowing they’re causing problems. But . . .” Now it was her turn to pace, talking as she walked and waving her hand excitedly. “Why not a smaller lie, one that it’s plausible that not everyone would know, that doesn’t contradict anything? A woman was rescued. She claimed to be an imperial investigator. All I have to do is say that you left, after having found nothing. Who’s to say it’s not true? Especially if no one can find you. You could have left.”
“Yes!” Radane said. “Tell everyone that I left after I failed to find any evidence of wrongdoing. While you are spreading that, Kiela will assist me in casting the invisibility spell.” She turned hopefully to Kiela. “If you are willing?”
“Obviously, yes,” Kiela said. How was that even a question? She thought of Larran rushing out into the storm when he spotted the floundering ship and wondered if this was how he had felt. If there was a way to help, she had to try. “One complication: we’ll need the spellbook to cast it, but if you’re seen going up to my cottage, then that’s the first place the imperials will look. We won’t have time to perfect the spell.” Every spell she’d tried had required significant research and experimentation first—look at the singing tree, the apple-blossom bird, and Meep. “We need to buy as much time as possible. Is there a less visible way up the cliff?”
Bryn twisted her apron in her hands anxiously and shook her head. “Not unless you can fly, scale vertical rocks, or swim up a waterfall.”
“What about Ivor? Could he fly us—”
Cracking a shutter open, Radane peeked out the window down the street. “The ship is anchored,” she reported. “Sails down. I cannot be here.”
“You’ll go in disguise, dressed as me.” Bryn ducked into a back room and emerged with a pile of clothes and aprons. “Anyone who sees you will assume you’re going to purchase more jam for the muffins. That’s perfectly plausible, isn’t it? So many muffins would require a lot of jam. I’ll start baking them, act as casual and innocent as possible, while you—”
“It won’t work,” Radane said. “We are too dissimilar in both size and demeanor.” But she began pulling on a pair of flour-dusted pants and tying an apron around her waist.
“It could work,” Kiela said. Everyone was at the dock, gawking at the new arrivals. They wouldn’t be watching the bakery or the cliff stairs. “You only need to pass at a distance.”
Bryn pulled out a handkerchief and tied it around Radane’s hair, tucking the red behind the fabric. After studying her for a moment, she piled on extra aprons to make her silhouette rounder. “Everyone’s attention is on the ship. They won’t look that closely at you.”
“You do not know that,” Radane said.
“Then I’ll create a distraction,” Bryn said. “I’ll . . . lob muffins at them. I don’t know. I’ll think of something. All you need to do is make it out of town, and I’ll—”
Eadie barged in through the bakery door, her horse hindquarters bashing against the doorframe. She leveled a finger at Radane. “You! Imperial investigator! You said you’d quit. Was that a lie? Did you call your people here for our Kiela? Because we won’t let you—Why are you wearing so many aprons?”
Our Kiela.Kiela felt herself blush. She’d never had anyone rush to her rescue before.
