They careened through the canals. Ash flew into Marin’s eyes, and she squinted as much as she could, seeing through narrow slits. The screaming was louder, closer, and she saw colors streak the sky: reds, oranges, and purples—the residue of spells being cast, she guessed. She wondered which side the sorcerers were on. She’d only ever met one sorcerer, Yvex, the one who’d given her parents the spell for her boat, and he didn’t seem likely to involve himself in any political conflict, on either side. She wondered if there were sorcerers who regretted being imperial pets, if there were any who’d switched sides. She wondered what it would take to stop the fighting. Would all of Alyssium burn to ashes, until all that was left were remnants for the sea and the tide to wash away?
It was all too big for her to think about. She concentrated instead on holding on to the boat and keeping the rudder steady as they raced through the canals.
As they spurted out of the gate, Marin loosened the knot around her waist, and she raised the sails. They caught the wind, and the boat keeled to the side. She kept them on the fastest run, not worrying about direction, only focusing on speed.
Behind her, the city burned, and Marin didn’t look back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The sun rose the next day as if blithely unaware that an empire was in its death throes, and Marin was fine with that. So long as the sun still rose and the wind still blew, she could sail on.
Admittedly, that was a low bar, but it had worked for her before. As long as the sun still rose and her parents were okay and she had her boat and her sea serpent… and now her wax myrtle… and apparently a whole lot of musicians?
What am I going to do with them?
She’d left them to their own devices in the cabin overnight while she slept out on the deck, beneath the stars, but now that the sun had risen she supposed she was going to have to deal with them. Feed them maybe? Had any of them thought to bring food? She doubted it. She wondered if Perri would be willing to round up a school of fish.
It was still another day’s sail until Eventrid. After that, she could wash her hands of them, knowing they were safely out of Alyssium. She wouldn’t have to worry. Except about Rijes Velk. And everyone else in the island city.
I can’t save everyone.
It felt good that she’d saved these people, she had to admit. They’d been lucky, though. If the fire had spread faster… if barricades hadbeen erected in their path… if the gate had been closed… There were a dozen scenarios that could have made that into a disaster.
But it wasn’t. We’re fine.
“Marin?” She heard Dax’s voice behind her and turned. He had popped halfway up out of the cabin. She’d expected him to look at least a little rumpled after the excitement of their frantic escape and then sleeping with a heap of musicians in a cabin, but he looked exquisite: flawless skin with zero shadows under his eyes, brilliant purple hair as smooth as silk, crystal horns gleaming like they’d been polished. Distracted by admiring him, she forgot to say good morning or hello or any other kind of pleasantry. After a pause, Dax said, “We’ve made some breakfast. Would you like some?”
“You did? Of what?”
“Ebron was clever enough to ransack the conservatory kitchen on his way out, and Ree said we could use your stove. Also, we found some spices in your pantry—hope it was all right to use some.” He climbed the rest of the way onto the deck, steadied himself, and then crossed to her, carrying a napkin with a boiled egg and a pastry in it. “There’s sausage and onion in the pastry, I think?”
She accepted it and told herself to stop staring. Just because most of them had packed instruments instead of essentials didn’t mean they were all useless. She felt guilty for judging them so harshly the day before, especially Dax. He was sheltered, yes, and guileless, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be practical when faced with reality. “Glad someone packed essentials.”
He smiled happily. “Oh, I did! Got out the full collection of Tasia’s symphonies. She isn’t widely known, so there aren’t a lot of copies in existence. I happened to have them out on loan from the conservatory library so it was easy to grab them.”
That… wasn’t what she’d meant, but okay.
His smile faded as he looked back toward the east. Alyssium was a smudge on the horizon, with darker clouds above that Marin knew were smoke. “My friends confessed last night. They’d beeninstructed to lie to me about what was going on in the city. Specifically Grandmaster Vorac had told them to. Threatened them, actually.”
“How did they know what was happening and you didn’t?” Marin asked. She bit into the pastry. The pastry flaked, buttery and delicate, and the sausage inside was perfectly seasoned with spices that made her tongue explode with little fireworks. “Wow, this is good.”
He shrugged. “None of them are bound to the conservatory.”
“Which means?” She took another bite. “What spices did they use? It’s sweet and spicy at the same time—is it ferris pepper? No, wait… I think there’s cumin and cinnamon, but what’s the tang that comes in at the end?”
“Paprika, I think? It means that legally the conservatory is my family. The others… They still have ties outside, and so they’re permitted to travel to visit relatives and friends.”
Staring at him, she stopped tasting the pastry. “Wait. They owned you?”
“No, of course not.”
“But you weren’t allowed to leave.”
He shrugged and stared off in the distance. “It was discouraged.” And then he sighed. “Essentially, no, I wasn’t. It’s complicated. Once I complete my opus, I’ll be able to travel, but until then, all the expenses they incurred training me, feeding me, and lodging me grant them authority.”
“None of which you had a choice in, right?” He’d told her once that he’d been given to the conservatory as a child. “You were, what, five years old when you were sent there?”
“Four,” he said.
