“That would be me,” Bryn said cheerily. “She helped me out at the bakery before she went on her way, and I gave her a bag of cinnamon rolls for her journey. You need sugar for the sail to the next island in the chain—it’s not a short journey, and my cinnamon rolls are the best. Would you like to try one?”
“What ship did she take, if hers crashed?”
Bryn glanced at Kiela, just a quick flash of the eyes, but the captain noticed it. He turned to Kiela. “How are you involved in all of this?”
She didn’t think. She just answered. “I sold her my parents’ boat.”
“Did you now?”
“I didn’t need it,” Kiela said. “I’m not planning on ever leaving Caltrey.” She smiled at Larran, and this time the smile was real. He smiled back at her.
“Eh, she’s lying,” Fenerer said. “That citygirl has no boat but the one she sailed in on—a kind of scow with a sail. Not Caltreyan. She’s from Alyssium. I’d bet she knows everything about this heir of yours. I’d bet they’re in cahoots. Or else sworn enemies. She did her in. Buried the body. Or transformed her into something nasty. A bit of moss. Or a slug. I’m telling you: she’s brewing up illegal spellcraft in that cottage of hers. You need to arrest her.”
Primly, the captain said, “I’m not in the habit of arresting civilians on no evidence. But that said, I must insist on seeing this cottage.”
“I don’t live there,” Kiela said. “No one does. It’s abandoned.”
“You have a jam shop, run out of your cottage!” Fenerer cried. “Obviously a front for something shady. How can you survive just selling jam? Especially just one flavor.”
Captain Varrik turned to him. “Is your accusation that she’s a rogue sorcerer, a murderer, or a bad businesswoman? I am losing track of your complaints.”
Fenerer drew himself up. “I am only saying that she doesn’t belong here.”
Bryn slammed a mug of tea down on one of the tables. “It’s you who doesn’t belong. Perhaps when Captain Varrik’s ship leaves, you should be on it.”
“Oh, I will, and you’ll be calling me Baron. Because I’m telling you: there’s something wrong about that blue-haired citygirl.” He wagged his finger at Eadie then Kiela.
Larran stalked toward him. “Enough, Fenerer.”
“She’s spelled you too, she has,” Fenerer said. “Otherwise you’d see it. She’s the source of everything strange that’s happened on this island. She’s a rogue sorcerer. And I’ll say it again: she knows exactly what happened to your investigator.”
Captain Varrik turned to Kiela. “Forgive the imposition, but I must ask you to show us this cottage now.” It was clearly not a request, but it was just as clear that he wasn’t happy with the source of his inspiration. She hoped that meant they weren’t doomed.
“Ha!” Fenerer said in victory.
In a low voice, Larran said, “You must see that Fenerer is . . . not our most reliable citizen. He’s prone to paranoia, and he took a dislike to my wife from the start. An irrational dislike. He’s chosen her as his scapegoat for everything from the tide to whether his fish stew was oversalted.”
“Then it should be no problem to show us this cottage he speaks of,” Captain Varrik said. “You must understand my position—my superiors have set a clear task, and no matter my personal feelings on the matter, I cannot be anything less than thorough.”
“And what are your personal feelings?” Kiela asked.
“Irrelevant,” he said. “Please, lead the way.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Kiela led the captain and his soldiers to the cliff stairs. “Watch your step.” As soon as she said it, she felt silly—these were soldiers and sailors who were undoubtedly used to much more perilous conditions than wooden stairs in the breeze.
But the captain said courteously, “Thank you,” and held the handrail as he began the climb. Overall, he didn’t seem a bad sort. Of course, that wouldn’t stop him for an instant if he guessed she’d hidden the heir or that she possessed stolen spellbooks and, worse, had used them. She was fully aware of this, no matter how polite he was. He didn’t know her at all and would have no reason to hesitate.
Rather than joining them on the stairs, Larran said, “I’ll catch up with you folks later. I’ve got to get the herd out to sea to help with the day’s fishing.”
“Now?” Kiela said. She tried not to let all her worries and fear seep into the one syllable, but she heard her voice squeak and knew she hadn’t hidden it all well.
He shrugged casually. “Work doesn’t stop because life interferes.”
The captain looked back at Kiela. “Is there a problem?”
Only if you discover everything illegal I’ve done.“Of course not. I can take you to the old cottage while Larran tends his herd.” She didn’t need Larran with her. It wasn’t as if he could do anything about a half-dozen trained soldiers if they decided to arrest her. Still . . . she’d expected him to come with her, at least for support and encouragement.
