The storm gathers, p.7
The Storm Gathers, page 7
A tapping on her window drew her attention and Rae opened it to find a black bird perched on the ledge outside. She recognized it as a corvim, a species native to the Forest. She smiled at it and it turned its head to the side, peering at her with startlingly bright orange eyes. It cawed at her twice, then flew away. She watched it disappear into the night with a faint smile. Its appearance was a reminder from Mirella, a member of her Val council, that they had a meeting tomorrow.
Excitement bubbled through her. Rae always enjoyed trips into the city.
EIGHT
RAE TOOK THE GONDOLA DOWN the cliffs the next morning. It wasn’t unusual for guards to come and go from the city, so she wasn’t worried about drawing suspicion.
She ambled her way through the crowds towards the Capital’s center, allowing herself to get lost in the mass of bodies.
After a few blocks, she slipped down an alley to where she’d stashed an over-sized parka that covered her blue uniform and hung to her knees. She pulled the hood over her braided hair and slipped back into the crowd.
Rae continued down the main boulevard for another three blocks before stopping at a fruit stand at the corner of two cross streets.
“Hello, Sahira.” She greeted the shopkeeper warmly, pulling back her hood just enough so the older woman could see her face.
“You, again,” the old woman snapped, her thin lips becoming thinner as she frowned. “I thought I told you not to come back. You owe me money for destroying my stand and ruining half my produce!”
“That wasn’t my fault,” Rae pointed out. “Besides, it’s been years and I’ve paid double for your fruit ever since. Even though it’s worth a quarter of that.”
Sahira’s face scrunched up into a frown. “Is this you trying to get on my good side?”
“We both know you don’t have a good side.” Rae gave the woman a wink and picked up two fresh peaches from her stand. She dusted them off on her sleeve, giving each one a careful inspection, conscious of the woman staring daggers into her chest. “I’ll take both,” she announced.
“You’d better, after rubbing them all over your disgusting rags,” the shopkeeper snapped.
Slipping a hand into her pocket, Rae pulled out two gold coins and handed them to the merchant.
Sahira’s eyes went wide. “How did you get this money, girl? I don’t take stolen coin.”
Rae snorted. “Sure you do. And for the record, it’s not stolen.”
Sahira huffed, and pocketed the money, then she made a shooing motion. “Leave. You’re scaring my customers.”
Biting back her retort, Rae turned away and headed down a cross street. As she walked, she tossed a peach into the air, catching it as she went. She continued down the road to a corner where three neighborhoods collided.
A mix of buildings, old, new, and some in between, spread before her. At its center was a circular building crowned with a domed roof. Twin metal doors, flanked by three-foot-tall doorstops, waited in front of her. On the closed doors were Vettan runes—like the ones stamped into Teruth.
Rae had once asked Herba, the bookkeeper, what they meant. He’d joked that they were meant to bring him protection, but all they’d brought was trouble.
She pulled open one of the doors, slipped inside, and was greeted by the smell of old paper and fresh ink.
Books lay in rows before her, their covers made of a mixture of metal, animal skin, and wood. Rae breathed it all in, closing her eyes slightly.
“Enough,” a scratchy voice said. “You know that disturbs my customers.”
She cracked an eye open and stared at the old bookkeeper at the back of the store. “You’re closed right now, Herba,” she reminded him. “You have no customers.”
“Well, it disturbs me.”
Rae chuckled. “Fair enough.”
She started down the row of shelves to Herba’s desk. It was crowded with books, loose papers, and inkwells. “I see you’ve finally organized.”
Herba wagged a finger at her. “I’m in no mood for your sarcasm today, Toma. Your posse is waiting for you inside. Better get in.”
Rae pulled another peach from her pocket and set it on his desk. “I got this for you.”
He frowned at the fruit. “Did you steal it?”
Rae let out a long sigh. “Why does everyone assume I’m a thief?”
“Probably because you are.”
“No, I did not steal the peach. I bought it from Sahira.”
Herba shuddered slightly. “Horrible woman.”
“She’s prickly.” Rae cocked her head to the side. “A bit like you.”
The bookkeeper frowned. “Get your ass inside before I call the city guard.”
Laughing, Rae walked around the desk to a door built seamlessly into the back wall. She pressed on it until she heard a click, then slid the panel open to reveal a small room taken up by a round table. Seated at the table were two men and two women. A final chair waited for her.
Rae took her seat, her humor from a moment before gone. She was no longer Rae Toma. Now, she was the leader of the Val, and this was her war council.
She nodded towards Mirella, seated to her left. The Tiskona woman had been visiting the Capital at the behest of her queen when the war had begun, trapping her in Siora. After learning about the Val, she’d joined and soon became the middleman between Rae and the Tiskona queen.
“The Forest is well stocked with provisions for the summer,” Mirella said. Her voice was crisp, with hardly any hint of her accent remaining. “No new weapons are needed, but I will keep in contact.”
Rae nodded and turned to her spymaster, Zarah, who sat beside the Tiskona ambassador. The young woman’s hair sat in a tight bun, accentuating her cheekbones. She had been two years ahead of Rae at the citadel before being recruited into the spy guild known as the Revry. Her skin bore the marks of her time there with a trail of tattoos that snaked up her arms and disappeared into her shirt. What those tattoos meant, Rae had never asked. She’d learned that the Revry, and Zarah’s departure from it, were not safe topics of conversation.
“Nothing of note to report,” the woman said. “I’ve been tracking the Yovar ambassador, as you requested. He’s been growing more and more agitated ever since the Shadow Fire disappeared. I suspect the Yovar government doesn’t have as much of the substance as they have led the world to believe.”
“What makes you think that?” Mirella asked.
“Just a hunch.” Zarah turned back to Rae. “It’s unclear if they will send another shipment. Since the destruction of House Kitza, the rest of the Royal Houses have been trying to monopolize on the fallen family’s Sioran connections. This is the first lucrative deal they’ve made. I doubt they will want to pack it in, but if my suspicions are correct, they may have no choice. Either way, I’ll keep you updated.”
“Thank you.”
Rae turned her attention to Cyrus. “The Shadow Fire has been sunk,” he said simply. “Nothing to worry about.”
“There’s always something to worry about,” Mirella replied evenly, giving Rae a small nod. She returned the gesture and glanced at Jonah, whose face was grim.
“There are new Citadel graduates on the streets,” he said gruffly. “Pups snapping at our heels, desperate to prove themselves by finding information on the Val.”
“They’re early this year,” Zarah commented.
“It’s because of the war,” Rae said. “I expected this. We’ll suspend all operations for two weeks, as per usual, then reconvene.”
Jonah, Zarah, and Mirella nodded in agreement, but Cyrus held up a hand. “What about the food we have coming into the city in two days? People on the streets are starving. They need this. We’ve already arranged for passage into the city and bribed the guards…”
“We bribed the old guards,” Rae replied. “A shipment into the city is too risky right now.”
Cyrus’s face darkened. “The people are starving.”
“You think I don’t know that? But if we get caught, we won’t be able to help them in the future. It’s the long game.”
“We’ve been playing the long game for years,” Cyrus snapped.
She raised an eyebrow. “You do understand what ‘the long game’ means, don’t you?”
“I’ll see to it personally,” Cyrus insisted. “The food will spoil if we don’t get it into the city. It’s a waste.”
Rae ground her teeth. “No. Not you.” She turned to Jonah. “Can you do it? Work in small groups. If anything feels off, you abandon the operation and scatter, understand?”
Jonah nodded. “Will do, boss.”
“Why not me?” Cyrus demanded. “I know this city better.”
“You’re also reckless,” Zarah said, her voice hard. “And easily noticed.”
Cyrus’s hands tightened around the arm of his chair. “I’ve never been caught before. Unlike you.”
Zarah stiffened, her mouth curved to reply, but Rae cut her off. “Either Jonah heads the mission, or there will be no food entering the city this week. Which will it be, Cyrus?”
“He can do it,” Cyrus snapped. “But—”
“Excellent,” Rae said, rising to her feet. “Jonah will bring the food shipment into the city. We will cease all contact for the next two weeks and I’ll send word when it’s time to meet again.”
They all nodded this time and rose from their chairs as well.
Holding up five fingers, Rae reopened the paneled door and slipped into the bookshop, giving Herba a wink before slipping back onto the street. She turned the corner, heading into the older neighborhood that clung close to the bottom of the cliffs.
As she walked, Rae took in the painted white and gray stone. Most of the color had faded from the murals through the centuries, but some artists had come in a few decades ago to touch up the more prominent pieces. Still, even the faded works were beautiful, the muted colors complimenting the texture of the stone. She drank it all in like a tourist. Tamar’s sword at her hip gave her a new appreciation for the ancient architecture as she passed a wall depicting Oriane Asha and her white dragon, Kubriel.
Distracted, it took Rae nearly five minutes to notice that she had someone tailing her. She didn’t let her shoulders tense or her breath become unsteady. She continued on as she had before, keeping her pace slow and leisurely. Her hood was still up, covering most of her face. It was likely that whoever was after her was just some citizen looking to steal her purse. Still, they were good—Rae wouldn’t have been able to detect them if she hadn’t been the top of her class at the Citadel.
She made it to the end of the block, then slipped down a side street and pressed herself into the shadow of a doorway. Her pursuer came around the bend, hesitated for a moment, then turned her way. Rae held her breath, counting their footsteps until…
She kicked out with one leg, knocking the man’s feet out from under him. Before he had a chance to recover, she sprang forward. With one hand, she caught him by the collar of his shirt and raised to strike.
She froze, eyes going wide as she took in the identity of her stalker.
“Took you five minutes to notice me following you,” the man said, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “Your father would be disappointed.”
She released his collar with a shove. The man stumbled backward, trying to find his balance.
Rae crossed her arms, surveying him. “What are you doing here, Aram?”
NINE
ALANA HADN’T BEEN ON A ship since the day she’d set foot in Jaarin. Now, looking at the sea spread out in front of her, she felt her body hesitate. It had been five years since she’d last seen her homeland and, in that time, she’d become an entirely new person. She had no doubt her countrymen had heard of her reputation. Would they hate her for it? Fear her? Alana found herself more bothered by the possibility than she wanted to admit.
“Are you ready?” Maria’s voice was irritatingly soft.
“I’m always ready,” Alana lied. She turned to walk past her two guards but stopped in front of Johnathan, frowning. She glanced at Maria. “What’s wrong with him?”
“The captain says that there are icebergs in the north. We are going to take the southern route around the Shallows. He,” she made a motion at her fellow guard, “is afraid.”
Alana snorted. “I forgot how superstitious you are, Johnathan.”
“I’m practical,” he snapped. “The Shallows aren’t natural.”
“The Shallows are very natural,” Alana argued. “They’re just rock formations that formed beneath the water when the sea level was higher.”
“They say poisonous mist surrounds them,” Johnathan pressed. “That dark spirits lurk in the shadows of the spires.”
“They also say that the mountains in the Skyfall range move,” Alana said. “Do you believe that, too?”
“That’s different.”
“Is it? It’s just another made-up story told to frighten gullible people.”
Johnathan let out an annoyed huff, arms crossing over his chest. Alana sauntered past him and headed down the wooden ramp to the docks, the sounds of her two guards arguing floating behind her as she went.
The Shallows were an area of the Western Sea between Okaro and Jaarin where ancient rock formations sprouted from the water in great spires that climbed towards the clouds. Before being properly mapped, the rocks had sunk countless ships, leading to the folk myths surrounding that area of the sea. She had never seen the Shallows. They were too far from Okaro to be worth visiting. And on her journey to Jaarin, they had taken the northern route specifically to avoid the area.
Alana made her way up the gangplank of the ship. The rocking of waves against the hull was like a song she hadn’t heard in years. It brought back distant memories of journeys along the coast with her father and sister—those few hours when she’d been free from her mother’s oppressive presence.
A man appeared in front of her, wearing the tricorne hat that marked him as captain. “Welcome, Alana, I am Captain Abin Ressin, and it is an honor to welcome you aboard my ship.”
“The honor is mine,” Alana replied, giving the man a small smile that felt wrong on her lips. “This is a beautiful ship. You should be proud.”
“I am,” the captain said, his hands going to his chest in a gesture of love as he observed the deck. “Make yourself at home here.”
“I will do my best. But I admit, it has been a long time since I last set sail.”
“I’m certain you’ll get your sea legs before the day is out,” Abin assured her. “But, perhaps a trip into the scout’s nest will serve as a reminder to the princess you once were.”
Alana met the captain’s gaze and gave him a small nod. Leaving him behind, she weaved around crates and sailors as she made her slow way to the main mast of the ship. For the journey, she’d elected to wear simple brown pants and a black shirt that was covered by an intricately embroidered red coat that hung to the backs of her knees. Alana preferred dresses, but the garments simply weren’t practical at sea.
“Excuse me!” the sound of a man’s voice came from behind her, and Alana barely had time to jump out of the way before the crate the sailor was carrying dropped to the floor. The man cursed, his face turning red. “I’m so sorry! I slipped and—oh gods, you’re…” He got down on one knee. “Queen Alana Zaya.”
She raised an amused eyebrow. “You may stand.”
He did so, a hand running through his loose, blond hair.
“What is your name?”
“Wren, Your Majesty.”
“Be careful, Wren. I’d prefer that none of my sailors break their necks on this journey.”
“I’ll take steps to avoid that, Your Majesty.” He gave her a low bow, then ran back down the deck to help his fellow sailors load up the ship.
Alana returned her attention to the mast and began to climb. Although it had been years since she’d been on a ship, her body adjusted quickly to its movement. There was a time, long ago, when there was no surface she couldn’t scale. Her father used to challenge her to climb the tallest trees on the palace grounds or reach the top of the largest ship in the harbor. Alana made it to the lip of the lookout’s nest and pulled herself over the edge, startling the boy standing there. He stumbled back, nearly tripping over the edge before she caught his wrist, pulling him to safety.
“Your Majesty!” the sailor exclaimed. He couldn’t have been older than fifteen, with light gray eyes and curly brown hair. “You shouldn’t be up here. It’s dangerous.”
Alana’s eyes ran over the boy. There was something so familiar—and yet so foreign—about him. Finally, her attention flickered out to the ocean. “You needn’t worry over my safety. I have an army of people who do that already. What’s your name?”
“Penn, Your Majesty.”
A small smile graced Alana’s lips. “Tell me, Penn, how did you come to sail with Captain Abin?”
“He came to my orphanage a few years ago,” he said, frowning at the memory. “He needed someone who was a fast climber to keep watch at night.”
“Fortunate then, that he chose you. You get to sail the world. Such a life must be exciting.”
Something sparked in the boy’s gaze. “It is. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen, Your Majesty.”
“Tell me.”
“Really?” he asked, clearly surprised.
Alana shrugged. “I always enjoy a good story.”
He eyed her. “Are you sure you’re Alana Zaya? The Queen of Darkness? The woman who executed a man during her first months as queen? Who burned the Seacrest estate? Who they say even the sea fears?”
Alana fought a laugh. “The very same.”
“Pardon me, Your Majesty, but you aren’t what I imagined.”
“And what did you imagine?”
“Someone far more…” Penn trailed off as he searched for the right word, “terrifying.”
“Sometimes the people you should fear the most are the ones who are the least assuming. People don’t whisper my name in dark corners because I’m some brute with a knife in an alley.”
