Maybe it’s not that bad.
From this distance at least, it didn’t look as if the fire was everywhere. It could be contained. She knew the city had plenty of sorcerers who could suppress fires. She’d seen them call torrents of rain from the sky and waterspouts from the sea. In a few seconds, it could be doused, and then she’d feel ridiculous for turning around and failing to make a delivery.
Ahead of her, Perri lifted his head out of the water and trilled a question. He then added another cascade of notes.
“I’m sure Dax is fine,” Marin told him.
But she wasn’t sure.
She couldn’t tell if the smoke was anywhere near the conservatory. Or the library. Or the florist shop, where they were supposed to deliver the gardener’s letter (which, she’d confirmed when she read it, was about greenhouses, not about former statues or illegal spellcasting). It could be a localized fire, under control and about to be extinguished. Or… not. Rijes Velk had specifically warned her not to return too soon. This could be part of the chaos she’d predicted.
I knew Ma and Pa didn’t have all the information.
She should have trusted her instincts, the pessimistic ones that said it was too soon. She’d wanted to be wrong this time, though. She’d wanted the revolutionaries to have won and for the world to be a better place.
Looking at the smoke staining the sky… half of her wanted to turn around and sail home, where there was pie.
The other half kept her sailing toward Alyssium. “We’ll deliver the letter, check on our friends at the library and the conservatory, and then go someplace less on fire. Okay?” After that, she swore they wouldn’t come back for a nice, long time.
Perri arched into the air, scales sparkling, saying yes.
Shielding her eyes, Marin looked up at Ree, who was up on his favorite perch, the top of the mast. She wondered if she should have insisted he stay on Belde. She’d expected Alyssium to be a mess as whoever was in charge sorted out the aftermath, but she didn’tmean to bring her newest crew member into actual danger.There’s no “aftermath” yet; it’s still ongoing.“Are you okay with this, Ree? I mean, you’re made of wood.”
“Ahh, but I’m not made of kindling,” Ree said. “Green wood burns terribly.”
“Well, we won’t go anywhere near the fire,” Marin said firmly. “If it looks unsafe, we turn around, even if we haven’t made the delivery. Agreed?”
Both the sea serpent and the shrub agreed.
Closer, she saw multiple boats leaving through the archway, a variety of craft from skiffs to gondolas to sailboats. She noticed no boats were sailingin. Wondering if she was making a terrible decision, Marin sailed through the archway.
Ree helped furl the sails as Marin poled through the canals. She’d noticed that the guards hadn’t been stationed by the arch, and there were even more boarded-up windows. The uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach grew, but they’d come this far—it felt silly to turn around just because everything wasn’t back to normal. She reminded herself that they weren’t going to stay: deliver the letter, check on Rijes and Dax, and then leave. That was it.
She pulled out her map of the city canals, spread it out on the deck, and plotted a route to where the florist shop was. Ree hovered next to her, studying the map too. She noticed his leaves were trembling slightly, and she wondered if he was nervous. “Do you want to be in charge of the map?” she offered. “I’ll steer, and you tell me which way to go?”
His leaves puffed out. “Yes! I can do that!”
She smothered a smile. She’d already committed the route to memory, but she didn’t tell that to the little myrtle. If it made him feel better to navigate, then that was fine by her.
She poled onward, trying not to be unsettled by how quiet the city was.
“Left!” Ree shouted at the next fork. His voice echoed across the canal sandwiched canyon-like between empty mansions.
Specks of gray drifted through the air, and it took Marin a while to realize they were bits of ash. She could smell the smoke and wondered how widespread the fire was.
“Straight!”
Beside her, Perri swam just below the surface. She watched the ripples from his passage. There seemed to be more trash in the water than she’d ever seen—chunks of wood, a chair, a basket. He sank beneath them as needed.
Farther into the city, the stench of smoke grew stronger, and her throat felt dry and rough.
“Left!”
She heard screaming in the distance. As Marin slowed, she saw the canal up ahead was blocked—it had been stuffed with debris, everything from chairs to tables to doors. Her mind couldn’t make sense of it. It looked deliberate.
A word popped into her mind:barricade.
It was a barricade. She began to pole in reverse, awkward since sailboats weren’t intended to go backward. She adjusted the wheel as they backed to the last intersection. She was grateful thatSilverwas as maneuverable as she was. If she’d been any longer…
