Читать книгу A Jewel Bright Sea - Claire O'Dell - Страница 11

CHAPTER 4

Anna flung the paper away and scrambled to the nearest door, shouting for Raab and Maté. Her maids took up the panic, calling out in terror, until Maté arrived at a gallop, sword and dagger drawn, with Raab only a few steps behind. Her two companions searched every room and closet and finally declared them safe from marauding pirates. Another hour passed while they interrogated the innkeeper and his servants. The results were…less terrifying than expected. One of the kitchen boys had accepted a bribe to tuck the note on Lady Iljana’s tray. The innkeeper dismissed the boy without a reference and begged Lady Iljana to forgive the lapse. Anna wasn’t certain which infuriated her more—Koszenmarc’s trickery, or the innkeeper’s groveling.

In the meantime, the surgeon had arrived. He tsked over Anna’s badly burned wrists and ankles, murmuring that she ought to have summoned him at once. A quick invocation of magic eased the worst of her injuries. After that, he mixed up a salve that she was to apply twice each day, then prescribed an infusion of herbs, which would allow her to sleep, he said.

At last Anna dismissed her attendants. Only Raab and Maté remained behind. Their presence would lead to new rumors about the Lady Iljana’s unseemly behavior. They would have to complete their mission soon, before she lost her reputation entirely and lost whatever advantages her role allowed.

The innkeeper had sent up a veritable feast of island delicacies and several bottles of fine wine—his unspoken apology for failing to protect his noble guest. Maté set to work arranging the platters and dishes. Raab made his own circuit of the room, inspecting every door and window, while Anna set spells to ensure their privacy.

Ei rûf ane gôtter. Ei rûf ane strôm. Stille. Stille.

Magic whispered over her skin as she spoke, like the breath of a ghost that had lost its way between lives. Though nothing within the room itself had changed, those sounds from beyond—footsteps from the courtyard below, the trill of insects, the small, secret conversations of night—took on a faraway quality. Whoever attempted to eavesdrop on their conference would hear a faint murmur and nothing more.

Maté poured cups of water and wine with a practiced air. Strange how he seemed equally comfortable playing the attendant as he was with knife and sword, or crouched in the mud as they followed their quarry. More than once she had wondered at his history. He spoke freely about his childhood on that farm in distant Károví, and just as freely about his service in the army, but over the past six years she had noticed gaps in those apparently artless stories. He never did talk about why he had sold his bond, for one thing, nor the early years with Lord Brun.

We both have our secrets, after all.

A single bell from the garrison tolled the hour. Midnight.

Raab finished his rounds and dropped into the nearest chair. He and Maté had scarcely acknowledged each other since her return, except for the occasional sharp-edged glance. She had the impression of a quarrel that had broken off only in her presence, and even then was barely suppressed.

“Sit,” Maté told her. “You’ve had a long day.”

“So have you. Both of you,” she added.

Raab’s mouth twitched, as if amused. Do not pretend to be my friend was the message. Anna remembered the day Lord Brun had introduced the man and announced his part in their mission. Handy with a sword and a knife, was how Brun had phrased it. Our own personal guard dog, Maté had muttered.

Yes and no, Anna thought. If Raab was a dog, he was Lord Brun’s dog, sent to watch over the man’s interests. It would not do, after all, if Anna and Maté decided to abscond with the jewel themselves.

As if they were stupid enough to risk the Emperor’s fury, never mind Lord Brun’s.

Maté offered a cup of wine to Anna. “Better a miserable day than none at all. Sit,” he repeated. “We need to discuss what to do about our new friends.”

Anna sat and accepted the cup but did not drink. “If you mean those pirates, I don’t see that they matter. We’ll have to hire more guards, of course, and make another search of the shore where Sarrész disappeared, but—”

“We need to leave Iglazi,” Maté said. “Tomorrow, if possible.”

Anna drew a sharp breath. “What? Why? All the clues to our mission lie here.”

“Because of those same damned pirates. They know too much.”

He sank into the remaining chair and picked up a wine cup, but set it aside with a dissatisfied air. Two days with little sleep and inadequate food had exacted a toll. His eyes were like hollows, the folds around his mouth seemed deeper than before, and the lamplight picked out a glittering of silver in his hair.

All the while, Raab watched them both with cold and assessing eyes. Anna finally took a sip of her wine to cover her own uneasiness.

“I’ve made a few discoveries,” Maté went on. “Our friend Koszenmarc is more than your ordinary pirate captain. He also happens to be the second son of Hêr Duke Vitus Koszenmarc of Valentain. According to my sources, Andreas Koszenmarc spent three years at the Imperial Court in Duenne, serving as his father’s representative. He vanished from Court without a word eight years ago—there was a scandal when his father disowned him. No one is certain what happened, though everyone likes to speculate. However, Koszenmarc likely did meet Hêr Barône Klos at Court. It follows he will soon guess you are not Vrou Iljana.”

His words echoed her own fears, ever since she’d heard Koszenmarc’s voice and recognized the lilt of a noble-born accent. But she could not give up, not yet.

“Then we remove to another island,” she said. “We take up new identities and renew the search from afar. But if we do, we must act deliberately. If we simply disappear, that will only start new rumors and—”

“And you think no one will notice? Lady Iljana and her attendants depart from Vyros. Another young woman makes her appearance a few days later, on another island, perhaps with the same attendants, or perhaps with an entirely new set. Both lead to questions.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he slammed a fist onto the table. “Anna, don’t be stupid. Sarrész has vanished. We can’t even say if he survived the ambush. I say we let Lord Brun hire a Court mage to track the man down. Better, hand the matter over to the local authorities. Commander Maszny knows these islands far better, and he’s the Emperor’s man—”

Raab set his wine cup onto the table, hard. “No. We stay here.”

Maté drew his lips back in a snarl. “And I say we go.”

They were like two rough and battered dogs, facing off against each other.

“We must go,” Maté repeated. “We’ve uncovered every single clue we could, in spite of our lord insisting on this idiotic game of secrecy. Let him handle the problem from now on.”

Raab’s mouth flickered into a smile. “He already handles it. Through me. You know that.”

Maté scowled at the man. Before he could say anything unforgiveable, Anna laid a hand on his shoulder. “Maté, he’s right. Lord Brun gave him the final word. Besides…I agree. We cannot give up now.”

His gaze swung up to hers. “You aren’t afraid of Koszenmarc? You seemed terrified before.”

“I was,” she admitted. “But I doubt the man will make a second attempt. We’ll take extra care the next time we visit that cove. And I will lodge a formal complaint. It would look strange if we did nothing.”

She glanced at Raab, who nodded. Permission given.

Maté, however, studied her with an oddly intent expression. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

“Ah,” he breathed. “Well, then, that is a different matter. Very well. Raab and I shall hire more guards in the morning.”

“And I’ll have another word with our innkeeper,” Raab said. “He ought to hire guards of his own, after this last episode.”

He tossed off a second cup of that expensive wine before he departed. Maté, however, lingered over their feast, untouched except for the wine. He broke off pieces of the loaves and crumbled them into bits. He dumped spoonfuls of each dish onto the plates and stirred them into a mess. Soon their untouched feast no longer appeared quite so untouched.

“You are a thorough man,” Anna said softly.

He shrugged. “They tell me it’s a valuable skill. Do you have further requirements of me this evening, Lady Vrou?”

He was unhappy. She could read that plainly from his tone and the way he avoided her gaze.

She sighed. “No. Thank you.”

Maté bowed and moved toward the door. Before he turned the latch, however, he stopped, his face turned away into the shadows. “Tell me,” he said softly. “Why did you agree to this mission?”

Anna started at the unexpected question, and the implication that she had a choice. “Because…our lord and master ordered me to.”

“And you did not wish to cross him.”

He made it a statement, not a question.

She nodded. “It seemed wiser not to.”

Maté smiled faintly. “True. He can be a hasty man, our Hêr Lord Brun. So you believe we can track down this Sarrész? In spite of everything?”

For a moment, she wanted to confess everything, but that would mean confessing that Brun had offered to cancel her bond but not Maté’s.

“I do,” she said.

“Then I should go. Shall I send in your attendants?”

She shook her head. He bowed and took his leave, as lightly and silently as always. Outside, he spoke to the waiting servants, his words still muffled by the secrecy spells Anna had laid over the doors and windows.

She turned back to the table and poured a full cup of wine, but before she had done more than taste it, she set it aside.

I lied to my friend. My best and only friend.

* * * *

She slept at last, aided by the surgeon’s herbs and several glasses of that most excellent wine, but her sleep was restless and plagued by dreams so intense she might have called them dreams of past lives, except that all the images were from the day before. Maté’s strangely intent expression, mirrored by Raab’s cold one. The boy’s hesitation when he negotiated the price of her rescue. The moment when Koszenmarc cut her blindfold and she saw his face just inches from hers.

Eventually she dropped into a deeper sleep and did not wake until late morning, long after the rains had ended and a fresh breeze sifted through the half-shuttered windows. There were no bells in Iglazi, nor anywhere in the islands outside the Emperor’s own garrisons. She missed them, the various melodies that marked the different quarters in Duenne. Once more she had the distinct sense that she had arrived in a different world, one stranger and more alien than if she had leaped through the magical plane into another existence entirely.

Anna rubbed a hand over her eyes. Her head felt clear. Her aches had all vanished overnight. Her wrists were still tender, however, and she felt a lingering regret that had nothing to do with pirates and everything to do with her friendship with Maté.

The moment she stirred, her maids glided into her chamber with fresh pitchers of water. That had been her first chore in Lord Brun’s household, fetching the water—a simple task that would not only accustom her to the house itself, but to her duties and her new status as a bondsmaid. That status had changed over the years, from maidservant to apprentice scribe to trusted assistant to the lord’s own personal secretary, and with each finely judged advancement, she found herself with more privilege. Tutors in magic and history. More freedom within the house. And then that final change of status…

She pushed away those memories. She would talk to Maté again. She would tell him…not everything. But she owed him some sort of explanation.

You see, Lord Brun wants a wife. A wife who can offer rank and influence and money. If that happens, he’ll want me gone. Sold, unless I give him good reason to set me free.

Three of the inn’s bondsmaids entered with pots of tea and a tray piled high with those light, flaky pastries she had come to adore.

“Where are Raab and Kovács?” Anna asked them.

“Maester Raab is instructing the new guards in their duties, my lady,” said the senior maid. “Maester Kovács said he had errands to run.”

Ah yes. Maté would be searching out clues about those pirates, no doubt. In between all his other duties, he had befriended a number of “interesting people” throughout Iglazi, people who had provided him with the local gossip. Which reminded her, she too had errands to perform, including a visit to Hêr Commander Maszny at the garrison.

Anna made a careless gesture, as if the matter of guards or errands were not important. “Very well. I suppose they know their business, those two. Please bring me my letters.”

The maids obeyed at once, and soon Anna had a stack of cards and letters next to her breakfast dishes. Vrou Analiese expressed a desire to further their acquaintance. Vrou Antonia invited her to the spas for her health. Barône Sellen’s eldest son, a well-known flirt and a gambler, wished to call upon her later in the day. Luckily, none of them appeared to know Barône Klos or his daughter.

The last one had familiar handwriting on the cover.

Lord Brun.

“Fetch me my writing case,” she said to the maid who awaited any orders. “And tell Innkeeper Huoron I want a chair within the hour. Send for Raab and tell him to have those guards ready.”

As soon as the maids scattered to their errands, she opened the letter from Brun. Or rather, the letter from her supposed man of business, who corresponded regularly with the Lady Iljana.

On the surface, the letter appeared to be a tally of her expenses and income for the previous quarter. She could decode the references as she scanned the pages. This was a reply to her second-to-last report, which relayed their intention to pursue Sarrész to Eddalyon. Raab had already examined the letter and had underlined certain phrases that spoke of bills exceeding income and the need to balance her expenses before the end of the quarter.

Brun was not happy with their progress, she deciphered. He wanted Sarrész either captured or killed and the jewel recovered within the month. Once they had accomplished that, they were to send word and he would meet them in Hanídos. Underneath the signature, Brun had added a postscript about steering clear of local moneylenders as the fees were too high—a reminder for her to avoid mages and the authorities.

Anna remembered Brun’s clipped tones when he first told her that restriction. The Emperor, he’d said, would strongly dislike it if his personal concerns became publicly known.

Translation: Brun did not wish his own concerns to become known.

She wrote back a detailed reply, using the agreed-upon story of a missing letter of credit to relate the progress of their investigation, Sarrész’s mysterious disappearance, and their hopes of recovering the trail. Her pen hovered over the paper as she considered how much else to report. Not Maté’s astonishing demand that they simply give up, of course. Could she even find the right phrases to imply that with their code? And what about Koszenmarc?

I’ll tell him later, if I must.

Or Raab would, in this same reply. Neither Maté’s suggestion, nor the business with the pirates, would please Brun. She only hoped he did not punish Maté. She set her reply to Brun aside and started on her letter to Commander Maszny.

By the time she had finished, her maids returned. Anna blew the ink dry and handed it over, unwaxed and unsealed, with orders to have it carried at once to Maszny. The second one, to Lord Brun, she tossed onto her desk, saying that Raab would see to its delivery. Then she sauntered off to her bath with an indifference she did not feel.

Commander Maszny’s reply arrived just as she finished bathing. Anna hurried her maids through the task of dressing her in her newest costume, a confection of linen and lace, which had arrived from the seamstress the day before their ill-fated expedition to find Aldo Sarrész. She allowed them to brush out her hair, then ordered them from the room so that she might read the reply in private.

A very odd, unexpected reply.

The answer itself was simple enough. Lady Vrou Iljana would be received whenever she wished. It was everything else that made her eyes go wide. Expensive, scented parchment, covered with line after line of ornate phrases, written in the flowing script of a courtier.

...delighted...astonished...my heartfelt service...a jewel of society...

She set the letter aside with dismay. Maszny was the younger son of an exceedingly wealthy prince, whose title and holdings dated from long before the Empire existed. And Maszny himself had received numerous decorations for his service in the military. There was even talk the Emperor would appoint him as the first Imperial governor of Eddalyon. This letter was more like those she’d seen from parasites of the Imperial Court, the ones who sent pleading letters to Hêr Lord Brun from time to time, asking for his patronage.

Her maids returned with the news that the two senior guards awaited her in the entry hall. Anna followed them, still occupied with the seeming contradictions between Maszny’s letter and what she knew of his background.

The two men stood at attention in the hall. One was an older man of middle height, with pale grey eyes that looked even paler in his dusky brown face. His companion was younger, with the flat cheekbones and arched nose of an islander.

The older man bowed to Anna. “Lady Vrou. We are yours to command.”

She handed them a silver denariie each. “Very good. I wish you to accompany me to the garrison. You have ordered a chair?”

He bowed again. “Of course, Lady Vrou. It awaits you even now.”

* * * *

By this hour, the morning breezes had died away, leaving the city breathless and close, the sedan chair closer still. Anna closed her eyes and wet her throat with sips of lemon water from the flask a serving girl had handed her before she left the inn. From time to time, she flicked open the curtain to judge their progress. The part of her that was Lady Iljana was indifferent to the passing streets. The other part, the part that was her father’s daughter, could not help taking note of the city.

According to the histories, the first people had arrived in Eddalyon a thousand years before. Very little of those settlements remained, just a few pockets of stone structures, and most of that buried under layers of dirt and stone. A second wave of settlers from four or five centuries ago had built walled cities and grand palaces for their kings. The other islands still possessed remnants of those palaces, but the ones on Vyros had been destroyed by the Empire’s invading troops.

The garrison was the largest of the newer structures. It lay on the eastern side of the city, on a shoulder of land overlooking the harbor. As she stepped down from the sedan chair, Anna took in its high, thick walls, the towers at every corner, the numerous soldiers patrolling the walkways and standing before the gates. These were all signs of a steady, competent hand in charge.

How, then, to explain the style of the letter she had received?

She could only hope her interview would explain these contradictions.

Inside the garrison, her guards and her chairmen were directed to a room to await their lady. A young woman in uniform escorted Anna through the compound, past numerous sentries and gates, and up a flight of stairs to the commander’s office, where she exchanged passwords with more guards.

The door opened and her escort motioned for Anna to proceed.

“My Lady Vrou.”

Anna entered the room and paused.

Commander Maszny’s office was cool and shaded. Its floor was tiled in dark blue, its walls the same pale brown as the rest of the garrison and hung with large maps of the region. At the far end of the room, two men stood over a table. One was a much older man, black-skinned and with features cut in sharp lines, his springy white hair cropped close to his skull—clearly a mainlander from the southeast provinces. The other was a younger man, dressed in the same uniform, but with more badges affixed to his collar.

The younger man stepped around the desk and bowed. “Vrou Iljana. I am Hêr Lord Prince Dimarius Maszny, commander of this most desolate province. I am delighted to receive such a lovely ornament of Duenne’s Court.”

It took all her control to keep from staring at this welcome. “Commander Maszny. Hêr Prince. I am not delighted. As I wrote, my reason for this interview is anything but pleasant.”

“Oh, ah, yes. Those brigands.”

Anna bit back an angry reply. “Those were pirates, not brigands, my lord,” she said evenly. “And however delighted I am that you have received me so quickly, I am also angry and distressed. My people tell me you were strangely indifferent to my plight yesterday.”

Maszny waved a hand. “And I am distressed by your distress, my lady. Let us partake of refreshments while we discuss the matter.” He gestured toward a table set with elegant cups and decanters. “As for you, Captain Rouphos, I must banish you to oversee the garrison, while I attend to Vrou Iljana’s needs.”

Captain Rouphos coughed, but said nothing. He bowed to Anna and saluted Maszny before he withdrew. Maszny appeared not to notice. He swept his hand around to guide Anna toward the table. “Would you care for some wine? Or anything stronger?”

“Tea,” Anna said. She managed to disengage herself from the man and sat down. The tone of his letter ought to have warned her. Even so, she could not picture anyone like Maszny taking command of such an important post as Eddalyon.

Maszny himself appeared amused. “My dear Lady Vrou. Please don’t abandon all good opinion so quickly. You have a complaint to lodge, and I must perform my duty.” He inspected the various decanters, made a face. “My unreliable servants have provided us no tea, but we do have strong coffee, brewed in the Eddalyon fashion. Will that suffice?”

He poured a cup. She accepted it from his hands, noting the calluses on his palms. A swordsman, then. That fit with the reports she’d had about the man. It did not fit with his manner today.

She glanced up in time to see him studying her. At once, he smiled and offered her a plate of biscuits powdered with cinnamon. Anna accepted one and sipped at her coffee, which was chilled and spiced even more heavily than the biscuits. Maszny, she noticed, had poured himself a generous cupful of wine. He leaned back and took a long swig.

“So you have crossed paths with our local brigands—pirates, I mean.”

“Yes, Hêr Commander. Or rather, they have crossed me.”

“Ah, a terrible thing. Tell me everything, if you please, my Lady Vrou.”

So he was amused, she thought. She let her annoyance leak through as she told him, in blunt phrases, about the attack and subsequent events. She wanted to speak about the dead and wounded guards, but Vrou Iljana would not, no matter how Anna Zhdanov wished it, and so she dwelt upon the outrage to her person and her position. Her father the Barône would not take the matter lightly, she said. He had connections in Duenne’s Court. He would not suffer the insult to his family.

Throughout her speech, Maszny listened with eyes half-lidded, his mouth relaxed into a faint smile. She could almost believe he’d fallen asleep, except that he occasionally took a sip from his wine cup. Once, when she mentioned leaping from the ship to escape, his eyes widened, but he offered no other reaction.

“And not one hour after I returned to my rooms, he bribed a kitchen boy to smuggle a letter into my private chambers,” Anna said, her voice catching on a deliberate sob. “He dares too much.”

“You are not so very wrong about that,” Maszny murmured. Then in a louder voice, “So. What are your exact wishes in this matter?”

“That you hunt down these pirates, Hêr Commander. That you guard Vyros and its citizens, as your Imperial orders no doubt require.” Remembering the pirates’ attack, the glitter of steel sweeping toward her, it was not hard to sound angry and frightened.

“You are overset,” Maszny said. “Quite understandable.”

He poured a cup of wine for her, but she waved it away. “You have my official complaint, lodged by my man Kovács, and now you have mine. You know my wishes in this matter. Let me only add that I believe this attack was not entirely random.”

“Indeed?” He drank from his cup, now seemingly bored. “How so?”

Anna dropped her gaze and hesitated. “This is difficult for me to say, but… You know I came to Eddalyon to, to seek an old friend from Court.”

Maszny lifted an eyebrow. “An old friend?”

His tone was offensive, but Anna decided to ignore it. Best if she pretended embarrassment. “I hardly dare speak more plainly, Hêr Commander, but surely you understand me.”

A glance through her eyelashes showed Maszny smiling. “I believe I know your friend,” he said.

“Then you know that he, too, vanished suddenly, not far from the place those pirates attacked me and my guards. I believe they took him hostage.”

Maszny was silent a moment before he replied. “I understand your concern, but I see a few contradictions. Unlike your father, Lord Gerhart has no money, nor any family of high standing.”

Anna gave a careless shrug, as if these contradictions meant nothing to her. “Then he is a stupid man. Or perhaps this Koszenmarc believes all nobles to be as rich as my father.” She paused. “You are investigating Lord Gerhart’s disappearance?”

“Oh, we investigate everything, Lady Vrou. Do not trouble yourself about the matter.”

“I cannot help it, Hêr Commander. You understand why. If you would be so kind—”

“—to let you know the details of our findings?” Maszny laughed softly. “Would that comfort you, Lady Vrou? What if we discover your lordling did not survive his capture? What comfort might I offer you then?”

His voice was soft and husking. Anna abruptly stood at the insult. “None at all. I believe we are done here, Hêr Commander.”

Maszny unfolded himself and held out a hand. “The Lady Vrou is cruel.”

She ignored his hand. “Do your duty, Hêr Commander—”

“That I can easily promise, Lady Vrou. In spite of my disappointment.”

“—and you will let me know your findings, or I shall write to my father, and my father to the Emperor, to express our dissatisfaction.”

She stalked out the door before he could reply. Outside, the same young officer waited to escort Anna back to the gates. She hardly noticed. Maszny had proved useless. Surely he had obtained his rank and his position through intrigue or favors, if not by outright bribes.

Outside the garrison, her new guards gingerly handed her into the waiting sedan chair. Anna closed her eyes and rubbed her aching temples. I used to be a calm woman. My father always complimented me on my manners.

It was Eddalyon that had changed her. That and Lord Brun’s mission. She ought to have argued with him. He sometimes listened if she approached him the right way. But no, she knew his ambitions. He simply would have bought or hired another in her place, then handed Anna off to another household. She could picture the conversation: She’s young enough, pretty enough. She doesn’t make a fuss in bed.

A hard bump yanked her from her bitter thoughts. The sedan had stopped in the middle of the street. More chairs jostled around hers, and from not far ahead came the noise of others trapped in the chaos. Anna opened the shade and rapped on the door. “What is wrong?”

“A blockage in traffic, Lady Vrou,” said the leader for her chair. “May I suggest we take a different route?”

“Whatever you think best.” She rattled the shade closed and collapsed in a puddle of irritation. Gods-be-damned traffic. Gods-be-damned fops that bought their rank as officers in the Imperial Army. She wished, not for the first time, that she could vanish into some anonymous name and position, in a city far away from Duenne and its intrigues.

But it was Duenne and those same intrigues that guaranteed her freedom.

With some awkward maneuvering, the carriers threaded their way back and around to a side street. Anna drew the shade back a few inches. She could see little except the blank facades of several tall buildings. A few laborers passed by with baskets perched on their heads. Then no one. It was quiet here, and the streets were shadowed by overhanging buildings. She didn’t even see a member of the watch.

Without warning, the sedan chair tilted to one side. Anna yelped and flung her arms out. Before she could catch hold of anything, the chair tilted wildly in the opposite direction, then crashed to the ground.

Anna lay bruised and breathless in the wreckage. “Guards?” she croaked. She sucked down a breath and tried to remember their names. Then she recalled they had not mentioned their names, nor had she asked. “Guards?” she repeated.

No one answered.

Truly frightened now, she disentangled herself and climbed from the wreckage.

She was alone. Tall windowless buildings lined the shadowed street. Far below, down a series of steps, lay the avenue they had left behind. A scuff of boots against the pavement gave her scant warning. She pivoted about and found herself facing Andreas Koszenmarc.

“Vrou Iljana,” he said. “Good day.”

Anna resisted the urge to lick her dry lips. A dozen men poured from the alleys and doorways ahead. More footsteps sounded behind her. He had trapped her neatly.

“Don’t worry,” Koszenmarc said. “I shan’t kidnap you again. Even I can see there’s no profit in it.”

He’s guessing. He can’t know anything, Anna told herself.

But when Koszenmarc circled around her, she flinched.

“Ah, the lady breathes,” he said softly. “I had begun to think you were made of stone, like the statues of sea monsters that line the harbor. Have you seen them?”

“I have no interest in statues.”

Koszenmarc continued pacing around to face her once more. Though she kept her gaze upon him, Anna felt the presence of all the other pirates. It was precisely for accidents such as today that Lord Brun had insisted on those lessons in battle magic. Think, she told herself. There must be one spell that could drive them all away.

His mouth curled into a smile that did nothing to reassure her. “So. No statues. I wonder what does interest you. Lord Gerhart, for one. Magic, for another.” He waited a moment. When she didn’t answer, he shrugged. “They say those who come to the Eddalyon Islands are dissolute nobles, or the runaway sons and daughters of the same. You, you fit none of these categories, despite your efforts to pretend otherwise. Why are you here?”

He spoke softly, but she had not missed the sword at his belt, nor the dagger that suddenly appeared in his hand. Here was no foppish courtier. He would not hesitate to kill her. It made the choice to attack easier.

“I am here for my health,” she said evenly.

His teeth flashed bright against his dark brown skin. “Such bravado. Not that I would expect less from a vrou of the first rank.”

Now, she thought. While he believes he holds the advantage.

Swiftly she turned her focus inward, to the point between magic and the world, and called upon the gods. Ei rûf ane gôtter. Ei rûf ane viur. Lâzen alle liehten.

A wall of bright fire leapt up between her and Koszenmarc. He jerked backwards. Anna caught a glimpse of his face through the translucent flames, his golden eyes wide with astonishment. With another phrase and a sweep of her hand, she sent the fire billowing outward, forcing him and his men beyond the next intersection—a narrow lane between the two nearest storehouses.

Anna darted down that lane. A shout sounded behind her—Koszenmarc calling out orders. The fire would die out within a few moments. Once that happened, the pirates could overtake her. She veered left at the first cross street. When she came to an alleyway slanting down toward the harbor, she turned again. If she could reach the main avenue, she could dodge into any one of the shops that lined the street and send someone for the city watch. Her pursuers were gaining on her, she could tell. She gulped down a breath and rounded a corner—

—and ran straight into Maté.

“You,” she gasped.

He grabbed her by the arm. “Come with me. Hurry.”

Before she could ask how he knew where to find her, Maté pulled her into a narrow passage between two houses. They fled down a series of steps to the next ring of streets. Above the thrumming in her ears, Anna heard the clatter of boots on stones. Maté drew her close. “Quick and silent now,” he murmured in her ear. “Can you do it?”

She nodded.

They hurried through a maze of passageways, through an even narrower tunnel that opened into a square crowded with chickens and goats. Opposite them was a wooden gate—locked, of course. Maté pried loose several slats, and they squeezed into another, larger courtyard.

High walls surrounded them, an expanse of pale brown brick darkened by moss. Several windows opened onto the courtyard, all shuttered against the sunlight, except for one high overhead. The ground here was dark and hard-packed. Matted grass and a few stubborn flowers grew in the corners. A spicy scent filled the air, mixed with the faint smell of rotting garbage from an unseen heap.

Maté made a quick circuit, pausing at each door and gate. At length he nodded, as though satisfied. Anna leaned against the closest wall, trembling. “What next?” she said softly. “Can you find our way home from here?”

“Not yet.”

His voice sounded odd to her ear—strained and unhappy. She was about to ask if something was wrong—something more than pirates and kidnapping and a heart-stopping flight through Iglazi’s back alleys—when Maté turned around. His eyes were flat, his expression so closed it frightened her.

“It’s time,” he said, “that you told me the truth.”