Pulling on his hand, she tugged him toward the dock. All around, villagers were coming out of their houses and marveling at the blossoms. Even more winged cats had returned to their rooftop perches and were batting the flowers out of the air as they fell. Larran had them in his hair, and she knew she did too. It made Kiela think of festivals and of weddings. She felt her cheeks blush.
“Let’s see what we saved,” Larran said. Still holding her hand, he led her toward the dock. The flowers kept falling, but her heart sank as they drew closer.
Ships in the harbor had been tossed around. A few were beached. One had been smashed against the rocks. Blossoms floated on the lapping waves and on the damaged ships.
“We weren’t quick enough,” Kiela said.
“It’s not all the ships,” Larran said, “and they can be repaired. We saved the homes. And the people. Even them.” He pointed to beyond the harbor, where the warship with its white hull and red sails was listing to the side as it headed back toward Caltrey. “You were right. They hadn’t escaped the storm. If not for the spell—”
“They’re coming back,” Kiela said. A piece of her had hoped they’d accept the miracle for just that and continue on to their next destination.
“There’s time to hide you and Radane,” Larran said.
She shook her head. “Radane, yes. Me, they met. They know I’m here. Hiding would only look like guilt. Besides, you cast the spell too—and Ivor, Bryn, Eadie, Ulina, Caz, Meep. We’re all in this. If we all disappear . . . I’m not leaving all of you to face this.”
Larran looked worried. “Maybe we don’t need to make it easy for them, though?”
“Oh, yes, we should absolutely lie our faces off.”
Holding hands, they watched the imperial ship sail into the harbor. One of its masts had snapped, and a sail was torn. Clearly it hadn’t gone through the storm unscathed.Maybe it’s only here for repairs. Maybe they won’t ask questions.
And maybe the chicken will start talking.
Of course they’d ask questions.
Kiela was aware that others were scurrying over the dock. This time, though, the villagers weren’t gathering to greet the ship. Everyone was focused exclusively on cleaning up from the storm. People were working together to patch their boats, to pull them off the rocks, and to sweep up from the damage—and from the flowers.
Only Kiela and Larran were standing still, watching the wounded ship come in.
Kiela knew she should help too, but she felt rooted to the dock.Maybe I should hide us all.Maybe she should grow more plants and stuff everyone behind them. She didn’t think that would work this time. What they’d done was too large to ignore.
The ship limped into the harbor.
Halfway between the breakwater and the dock, it dropped anchor. Shortly after, a rowboat was lowered, and she saw the captain and several sailors rowing toward them.
When they reached the dock, Larran reached a hand down and helped them tie off to the piece of the dock that was still sturdy. The captain, Kiela noted, had flower blossoms in his hair, as did the rest of them.
“Everything okay with your ship?” Larran asked. “Need any help with repairs?”
Captain Varrik climbed out of the rowboat and ordered his sailors to remain by their oars. Kiela wondered if it was a good sign that he didn’t have them disembark and immediately begin an investigation. “My crew is already working on it,” he said. “We returned to ensure that your island survived.” Walking to the very end of the dock, he surveyed the harbor. “I see there’s been some damage.”
Larran shrugged. “We’ll manage. We always do.”
“You’ve had storms of this magnitude before?”
Joining him at the end of the dock, Larran said, “The storms have been worsening ever since the capital stopped sending its sorcerers around. The outer islands have suffered the most. We depend on the sorcerers maintaining a balance in the magic, to offset the miracles they make in the capital. I’d planned to visit Alyssium and appeal to the emperor, but given the mess in the capital . . .”
“I have reason to believe the situation will improve,” Captain Varrik said.
“Oh?” Kiela asked. “Will sorcerers be sent on circuit again?”
“I don’t believe that will be the solution.” He looked at her, and she wished she could read what he was thinking. It was the kind of look with unspoken words behind it. Her heart thumped faster and harder, and she hoped he couldn’t hear it. “The lawsarechanging, but unfortunately, they are changing slowly.”
She wanted to ask which laws precisely, but she wasn’t sure she dared. Asking could be tantamount to admitting that they’d broken several laws, and she wasn’t sure that was wise. It had to be a good sign that he hadn’t immediately arrested anyone.
Fortunately or unfortunately, she didn’t have to ask.
“So, did they repeal the law saying only approved sorcerers can perform spellwork yet? Specifics, please.” It was Caz. Kiela hadn’t seen him come down the dock, but here he was, his tendrils wrapped tight around his soil ball. It was remarkable he was here, willingly, with water sloshing underneath the boards, but as proud as she was that he’d overcome his fear, why hadn’t he stayed hidden? He knew he was difficult to explain. Granted, he had every right to be here, but convincing the captain of that, in the wake of the abrupt and flowery end to the magic storm, could be a challenging task. It would have been better if—
