Текст книги "The Pirate's Wish"

Автор книги: Cassandra Clarke

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

My thoughts churned around inside me like a sickness.

We walked on and on, far enough that I lost the scent of the ocean and caught instead the rainy damp scent of the jungle. Arkuz reminded me of Lisirra, cause it was big and sprawling and crowded with street vendors selling spiced fruit and charred meat wrapped up in banana leaves, and shops full of spices and jewels and fabric dyes and precious metals. And everybody looked like nobility, the women in these long fluttering dresses, their shoulders bare and their wrists heavy with bangles, and the men in tailored slim-cut cotton shirts.

I speak a bit of Jokjani, enough to understand the vendors trying to entice me to come buy something from them, but not enough to have any idea what Marjani said to the guard at the entrance to Azende Palace once we finally arrived. He used a different dialect than I was used to, and Marjani matched it. For a while it didn’t look like he was gonna let us pass – he was courteous enough to Marjani but kept glancing at me like I was some street rat trying to make off with his palace-issued bronze dagger, and he was obviously trying his best to not even look at Naji.

Marjani was getting more and more annoyed, I could tell, her hands clenching into fists. The guard kept shaking his head and saying something in Jokjani that I knew wasn’t no but sounded close. Then Marjani took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and told him her name. Her full name, her old name, not Marjani of the Nadir but Marjani Anaja-tu. A noble’s name. I’d never heard her say it.

The guard’s eyes widened.

“Do you recognize that name?” Marjani asked. Her voice trembled a little, and I tensed up my arm, ready to grab my sword if anyone made a grab for her.

The guard answered with something that sounded like another name, and this time it was Marjani’s eyes that got wide.

“Really?” she asked. Then she straightened her shoulders and said something I couldn’t catch. The guard responded. I got you and palace and something about time and nothing else. Marjani didn’t look upset though, which was a good sign. Then she said, “Take us to her.”

The guard scowled and gave her this insolent little bow.

Naji frowned. “Was that true?” he asked Marjani in Empire.

“Every word,” she answered in Jokjani. “Don’t speak Empire here.”

Naji glared at her. I wondered how much of that courtship story got related to the guard.

The guard led us through the palace gate and then through a garden laden with flowers and vines and palm fronds, like the royal family thought they could corral the Jokja jungle for their own use. The air smelled sweet and damp, and women in thin silky dresses looked up from their books and paintings as we walked past. All of ’em were pretty the way nobility always is – it’s a prettiness that’s painted on, not in-born, but it still made me nervous, the way they watched us with their polite, silent smiles.

The palace was open-air, the scent of the garden drifting into the room where the soldier left us waiting. “I’ll alert the queen to your presence,” he said to Marjani before he turned on his heel, footsteps echoing in his wake. Naji and me both sat down on the big brocade-covered chairs set up next to the windows. Marjani stayed standing.

“Are they going to arrest you?” I asked.

“What?” Naji asked.

Marjani didn’t answer.

“That is what you told him, right?” I asked. “That story about what you told me–”

“No,” Marjani said. “I didn’t tell him the story I told you.” Her fingers twisted around the hem of her shirt.

“Then what–”

“If you spoke better Jokjani,” Marjani said, “you’d know.”

That stung.

“Arrest her?” Naji asked. Marjani ignored him, and he turned to me, which made my heart pound for a few annoying seconds. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” I snapped. “My Jokjani ain’t good enough for me to know anything.”

Worry lines appeared on Naji’s brow.

The door banged open, and the sound of it echoed across the huge, empty room. A pair of guards came in – these had different uniforms from the one at the gate, and they carried swords instead of spears. Marjani straightened up. She didn’t say nothing to me or Naji, just stood there smoothing her hands over the fabric of her shirt, all wrinkled up from where she’d been clutching it.

The guards walked across the room and stopped and turned to the door. And then two more guards walked in, and then a trio of pretty young attendants and then this graceful woman with dark brown skin and a halo of black hair. Figures she’d be beautiful.

“Saida,” said Marjani, her voice husky.

The woman stopped. She lifted one hand to her mouth. “Jani?” she asked. “No, it can’t–”

Marjani nodded. I realized her hands were shaking. The woman – Saida, the woman from the story, the princess, the queen – rushed forward, the soles of her shoes clicking across the floor.

The guards didn’t even move.

“I thought you were dead!” She threw her arms around Marjani’s neck and buried her face in Marjani’s hair. Marjani scooped her arms around Queen Saida’s waist and her eyes shimmered. When she blinked a tear fell down her cheek.

Naji looked back and forth between the two of them and then over at me.

Queen Saida kissed Marjani, and they stayed that way for a long time, like they’d forgotten what kissing was like. When they pulled apart, their hands stayed touching.

“You’re queen,” Marjani said, her voice full of wonder. They were speaking Jokjani, a dialect I had an easier time understanding.

“I am.” Queen Saida gave this little bow like it was the other way around, like Marjani was the queen and not her. “Were you so far away that you couldn’t hear news from Jokja?” She smiled. It made her light up like she was filled with stars.

“No, I heard. That’s why I came. But I just… I couldn’t quite believe it.”

“You knew I’d inherit.”

“I know, but it’s one thing to hear about, another to actually see–” She shook her head. “And I’ve been in the Empire so long, I’d forgotten–”

“The Empire!” Queen Saida exclaimed. “What’s that like? Have they invaded the ice-islands yet?”

Marjani rolled her eyes. “Surely the Queen of Jokja would know if the Empire had made a move for the ice-islands.”

“I know they’ve been trying.” Saida tilted her head. “Are you sure you were in the Empire? Because you look like a pirate.”

“Well, I was doing that, too.”

Queen Saida burst into laughter, though she covered her mouth up like a lady. Which I guess she was.

Marjani gave her a smile, small and sad.

And then Queen Saida turned to me and Naji. He pulled the mask away from his face, rose up from his chair, and gave her this handsome bow. Then he hauled me up by the arm.

“Saida, I would like you to meet Ananna of the Nadir and… Naji.”

“Just Naji?” asked Saida.

“I am Jadorr’a.”

Queen Saida’s polite smile didn’t waver once. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” she said to Naji. She pressed her hand to her heart. Naji did the same and bowed again. Then she turned to me. “And you, Pirate Ananna.” I gave her a bow cause I liked that she treated me and Naji like we were visiting nobility. Wouldn’t expect that from somebody so beautiful.

“I’ll arrange for rooms in the guest quarters,” Queen Saida said. She looked at Marjani. “Would two suffice? One for each of your companions?”

The air was heavy with the scent of flowers. Marjani nodded slowly. Nobody said nothing about Marjani’s room.

“Wonderful. I’m afraid I have business to attend to… I wasn’t expecting you–”

“I’m sorry,” Marjani said.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll let the cooks know you’re here. You can join me for dinner.”

She dipped her head again and then turned on her heel, skirts swirling around her legs. When she left the room, a scent like spice and flower petals lingered in the air.

One of the guards stayed behind.

“I can see you to the atrium while your rooms are being prepared,” he said, in that stiff formal way soldiers get sometimes.

Marjani looked dazed. She didn’t answer him, just stared at the door where Saida had disappeared.

“That would be fine,” said Naji.

The guard glanced at him real quick and then averted his eyes.

The atrium turned out to be an enormous room filled with sunlight that overlooked the jungle. There was a guy there telling a story to some little kids, half of ’em looking like nobles and the other half looking like servants, and a table laid out with food, fresh fruit and sugared flowers and spicy herbed cheese, plus a sweet sugar-wine that reminded me a little of rum.

There were some guards, too, near the door, keeping their eye on everything. I was in half a mind to try and steal something just to see if I could.

Marjani collapsed on a pile of cushions near one of the windows. Sunlight sparkled across her face. She pressed her hand to her forehead and looked out at the jungle, green and undulating like the sea.

“You didn’t ask her about the starstones,” Naji said.

My stomach clenched up. I should tell him what Jeric had said. But not here, surrounded by stories and sunlight, even though I knew I’d have to tell him eventually: I didn’t want him to die, no matter how bad he hurt me.

“The starstones aren’t going anywhere,” Marjani said. “I’ll ask her tonight.”

Naji frowned, and for the first time since I met her, I felt a sudden flash of irritation at Marjani.

The storyteller finished up, and the kids all burst into applause and started begging for another one. I slumped down next to Marjani.

“I didn’t think I’d ever come back here,” she said out of nowhere. “It’s funny. This room – we used to listen to stories together right over there.” She jerked her head to the corner with the storyteller. “And she’d bring in musicians sometimes and teach me how to dance. I’d never learned at home, cause Father was so keen on me becoming a scholar.” She smiled again, and this time she looked wistful, which I guess was better than bitter. “I used to think about it sometimes, watching you dance on the deck of the Ayel’s Revenge.”

I blushed. “I don’t dance like a queen.”

“Neither did she.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes longer. Naji seemed real intent on the surface of his wine.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

My room was beautiful, with a soft canopied bed and windows that faced the jungle, and a huge porcelain washtub that the servants filled with cool, jasmine-scented water when they brought me into the room. First thing I did was take a bath. Sea baths will keep you clean enough, but nothing beats fresh water to slough all the salt off your skin.

The servants brought clothes, too, a thin cotton dress and a narrow gold belt that I cinched around my waist. I combed my hair out and sat on the window ledge and looked down at the wash of green roiling up against the city’s walls. Papa’d told me once that he knew a man who had crossed the Jokja jungle and came out the most powerful sorcerer either the Empire or the Free Countries had ever seen. I’d never decided if I believed him or not.

For a minute, I wondered what Papa was doing. Had the Hariris gone after him first, back when I was crossing the desert with Naji? That wasn’t usually the way of things, but you never knew with a clan so enamored of the land. Or had Papa and Mama even heard about what I did, to Tarrin, to his parents? Mama hadn’t used her magic to track me, at least not that I could tell, although I might have been too far away from them for it work. Or maybe they just didn’t care.

The wind blowing in through the windows changed. I noticed it as a prickle on my skin. The hairs raised up on my arms. A chill crept into the room.

I fumbled around on the bed, trying to find the knife I’d tossed there while I was taking my bath. The wind blew harder, and then a mist crept in – a northern mist, nothing I should have seen in Jokja.

I touched the charm around my neck.

“Ananna,” Echo said.

I whirled around, knife out, heart racing. She stood beside the window, and she was dressed like a Jokja lady. But she had the same mean starry eyes and the same cold voice and the same swirl of mist where her feet should have been.

“Get out of here,” I said.

“Still protecting him?” Echo drifted forward, bringing the cold damp in with her. “You’ve come up in the world since last we spoke.”

I readied my knife.

She floated over to my bed and sank into it.

“But your affection for the assassin appears to be waning.”

I glared at her, tensed my fingers against my knife.

She smiled hard and cold at me. “The offer still stands,” she said. “Take us to him, and we’ll grant you a thousand boons.”

“Why?” I said. “Why do you want him so bad? Just cause he bested your lord?”

She looked at me, calm and implacable. “That’s exactly why. My lord was humiliated by that particular defeat. We don’t like being defeated, particularly by humans.” She narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose in disgust. “And we don’t like being humiliated either.”

“Yeah? So you’re just gonna let Naji keep defeating you every time you show up?” I jabbed my hand at the door. I didn’t think this was about defeat at all. It was about wanting a place in our world, like Esjar had told me. “You just floated in here like there wasn’t a door or walls. Go find him yourself. Or make me do it, you want him that bad.”

“But I can’t touch you,” she said. “Because of that thing around your neck.” She tilted her head. “Even after all the hurt he’s caused you, you still wear it?”

“Apparently.”

“So coy.” She smiled again. “And as point of fact, the assassin has not defeated me. He’s merely hidden himself with some silly human charm. It took three years by your reckoning to find him before – without anyone having to betray him, even. So don’t think your refusal will actually save him. It only delays the inevitable.” She laughed. “And rest assured that when I find him without your help – and I will – you will not be granted a thousand boons. And not even his pathetic human magic will protect you.”

I waited for her to laugh again, or give me that infuriating mocking smile of hers, but she didn’t. She just stared at me with a calm, placid expression and I thought about how he’d refused to smile for me like kissing me was the worst thing that could happen. I thought about how I didn’t let myself think his wanting me was the result of a spell, how it didn’t even cross my mind when it should’ve.

I thought about how he made me stupid.

“You’re considering it,” she said. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“I ain’t considering nothing.” No, I’d been thinking about the manticore, and how dangerous everyone said that was, making a deal with her, and yet I’d managed to get away with my life intact.

I didn’t want to hand the world over to the Mists, but maybe I could still hand over Naji, and save the world myself.

The door to my room slammed open, and there stood Naji with his sword and pirate’s coat. He gave me a look so full of dismay it was like he could read my mind.

I jumped to my feet, heat rushing to my face.

Echo stiffened. She sniffed at the air, jerked her head around the room.

“I can smell him,” she hissed. She didn’t sound like nothing human. “He’s here.”

“No, he ain’t,” I said.

“Don’t lie to me!” She slid forward, growling and spitting. “I told you, Ananna, I’ve found him before and I’ll find him again.”

Naji streaked forward and sliced her clean in half with the sword. She dispersed into mist. The room was so cold my teeth chattered.

Naji sat on the edge of my bed, his eyes staring at the space where she had been. I wrapped my arms around my chest. Slowly, the cold leaked out, the warmth came back in.

“You were going to betray me,” Naji said.

“What!” My face got hot. “No, I wasn’t.” But the lie turned to ash in my mouth and I didn’t try to deny it again.

Naji looked up at me. I expected anger but his expression was flat and empty. “Yes, you were. I could… tell.”

“You could tell? How the hell could you tell?” I shook all over, staring at him. And then his voice was in my head.

Because we’re connected.

I shrieked and jumped back, slamming my hands over my ears. Naji’s mouth hadn’t moved. He hadn’t spoken. But I heard him.

I’d been hearing him, on and off, speaking when he wasn’t speaking. I’d caught glimpses of his feelings. Not all the time. Just little enough that I thought it was my imagination, that I thought I was feeling my own emotions.

“Do you understand what happened during the sea battle?” Naji asked.

“I got shot through the belly.” My voice trembled.

“Before that.”

I closed my eyes. My arms tingled where I’d sliced open my skin.

“Yes,” Naji said. “You gave me your blood. I tried to tell you…” His voice dropped, and I remembered. He was dying on the deck, choking out that my giving him blood would connect us. And I hadn’t understood, because we were already connected, because of the curse, because I loved him.

“When you gave me your blood,” he said. “That magic… it drew us together. It’s ack’mora, not northern magic like the curse.” He took a deep breath. “You wanting to betray me is like me wanting to betray myself. I had to fight… to fight from–”

“Stop,” I said, because I could hear the rest of that sentence echoing in my head. Fight from handing myself over to the Mists.

Naji leaned up against the bedpost like he was trying to catch his breath. He peered up at me through the tangle of his hair. I could hardly breathe: I kept thinking about the moments I felt warmth from him when he was with me. Happiness. Comfort.

“When you shared your blood, it created intimacy,” he said. “And the magic joined us together. It was like sex–”

His voice trailed off.

I glared at him, humiliated. “Wouldn’t know,” I snapped. “I figured the boon out before we let it get that far, remember?”

He stared at me, his mouth open like he wanted to say something. I could feel his thoughts, his emotions, crowding at the gates of my mind, but now that I knew what they were I shoved them away. I didn’t need him inside my head.

“That wasn’t my fault,” Naji said.

I turned away from him, still flush with embarrassment. He was right, of course, but I wasn’t gonna let him know that.

“Maybe you should leave.” I glanced at him over my shoulder. “I’m not sure I want to talk to you right now.”

“The boon wasn’t my fault,” Naji said. “But you were going to turn me over to the Otherworld. That was your choice.” He looked sad, even though his words slashed at me like they were full of rage. I wasn’t going to let him know I felt guilty about that, either.

“I was only thinking about it,” I said. “She raises some good points.”

His mouth hardened.

“I asked you to leave and you’re still here.”

He stood up. Grabbed his sword. But he didn’t leave. He came and stood real close to me. The exact opposite of leaving.

“They lie,” he said. “When they try to strike deals. You’ll be in thrall to them, if you help them, if you–”

“I ain’t gonna help ’em!” I shoved him away. “Get out of my room. And stay out of my head!”

“I’m not in your head,” he said. “You’ve blocked me.”

“Seems fair, given how I can’t get in your head.”

Naji gave me a long look. “Yes, you can,” he said. I knew he was right. “You’ve been doing it all this time. You just don’t seem to want to control it.”

Anger flashed white-hot behind my eyes. “Don’t tell me what I don’t want to do!” I swung my fist at him, sloppy with rage. He caught my arm, and at his touch I saw a flash of that night after the manticore’s feast, only it wasn’t me looking up Naji, it was Naji looking down at me, his thoughts flushed with desire and… and affection.

I yanked away from him.

“There,” he said. “You went inside my head.”

I turned away from him, sucking in deep breaths. That desire, that affection – that wasn’t from the boon. I felt it. It was from him.

“I know about the starstones,” Naji said. “I know about your conversation with Jeric yi Niru.” A pause. “I know you… worried.”

“Oh, shut up!” I jerked away from him. “I did not.”

Naji watched me.

“I have to try,” he went on. “With the starstones. I’ve been communicating with the Order. I have to try–”

“Of course you have to try,” I said. “It’s the only way I’m going to get rid of you.”

He recoiled, and something flashed across his face that I couldn’t identify. I didn’t bother peeking to see what it was; it might have been hurt. But then his eyes narrowed and he said, “You’re never going to get rid of me. Not as long as your blood flows through my veins.”

I scowled. “Get out of my room.”

“I’m only warning you.”

“Get out!”

“If you try to call down the Otherworld,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I’ll know. Don’t ever forget that.”

“For Kaol’s sake, Naji, I ain’t gonna call down the Otherworld. I just want you to leave me alone!” I whipped my knife at him without thinking. He slid away in a blink. The knife thrummed into the wall.

“That was unnecessary,” he said.

“Get out.”

He gave me one last hard cold look before melting into the shadows. I leaned up against the wall and dug the heels of my hand into my eyes, trying to stop the tears from flowing over my cheeks, and failing. I concentrated, trying to see if I could feel him hiding in the room, if I could slip into his thoughts the way I did earlier. But there was only emptiness, a blank space where he’d been.

I let out a deep breath, and I realized I was shaking.

The sun room was filled with the orange and pink light of the sunset by the time I dragged myself up there for dinner. The windows were all open-air and gauzed with fine white netting. Flowering vines traced along the walls, growing out of carved stone pots. There was a table in the center of the room stacked high with food: charred meats and fresh fruits and crusty fried breads, along with more bottles of that sweet sugar wine.

Marjani and Naji were waiting for me when we walked in, but there was no Queen Saida yet. Naji sat up straight in his chair and didn’t look at me. Marjani seemed distracted.

I sat down at the table and poured a glass of wine.

“You shouldn’t start yet,” Naji said. I glared at him.

“This isn’t a formal feast,” Marjani said. “It’s dinner. She can have a glass of wine if she wants.”

Naji gave her one of his looks, but she didn’t notice, just kept staring at the door. I drank my wine down, poured another glass.

We hadn’t been waiting long when a pair of guards marched into the room, and then another pair, and then Queen Saida, fluttering behind them like a flower. Her attendants weren’t anywhere to be seen, but I guess she couldn’t ditch her guards that easily. She smiled at each of us in turn and then sat down at the head of the table and plucked a mango slice off a nearby platter.

“Eat,” she said cheerfully. “The cooks have been slaving away since this morning, I’m sure. I’d hate to tell them their efforts were wasted.”

Didn’t have to tell me twice. I scooped up a big pile of carrot salad and a lamb chop and took to eating. It wasn’t quite like carrot salad in the Empire – they used some different sort of spice I didn’t recognize – but it was still delicious.

For the first part of dinner, Queen Saida asked me and Naji a bunch of polite questions about our “journey”, like we’d been onboard some passenger liner and not a pirate ship. She asked about the manticores like they were Empire nobility. When I told her about the Isle of the Sky, she sat there with her pretty head leaning to the side, her eyes on me the whole time I was speaking. I was halfway through talking about drying out the caribou meat when I realized I’d just spilled half my life story to this beautiful woman.

I took a big bite of lamb to shut myself up.

“And you, Naji of the Jadorr’a,” said Queen Saida. “How did you come to know so much about… what was it called, caribou? Caribou preservation?”

Naji took a drink of wine. “I had a different life before I joined the Order.”

“Of course.” Another polite smile. I frowned. She was just so easy to trust.

I snuck a glance at Marjani. She’d stuck a lamb chop on her plate and pulled some of the meat away from the bone, but I could tell she hadn’t eaten hardly any of it. She kept her eyes on Queen Saida the whole time, following the movement of the queen’s graceful hand as she lifted spoonfuls of cream pudding to her mouth.

I wondered if Marjani was ever gonna ask about the starstones. Probably not. Probably Queen Saida didn’t even have them, Marjani just wanted to come see her now that she had a ship and a crew that’d listen to her–

Queen Saida set her spoon down beside her plate.

“Alright,” she said. “What is it?”

“What is what?” asked Marjani, though she flinched.

Queen Saida smiled. “You’ve been coy all day, dearest. You want to ask me something.”

Naji took a long drink of wine. His face had turned stony.

“I don’t know how you do that,” Marjani said. Her expression was serious and concerned, but her eyes lit up like she thought it was funny.

“Intuition. Now spill it.”

Marjani sighed. She tugged on the end of her locks.

“We need to borrow your starstones,” I blurted out. “Naji has to touch them.”

Naji let out a long sigh.

“My starstones?” Queen Saida laughed. “Is that why you sailed halfway across the world to see me?” She rested her chin in her hand and gazed at Marjani, who looked down at her lap like she was embarrassed.

“Don’t be absurd,” she said.

“It’s for Naji,” I said. “He has a curse.”

“Are starstones a cure for curses?” Queen Saida turned to Naji. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about magic.”

“They are for this one,” Naji said.

“I thought starstones were dangerous, though? The court wizard never let me near them.”

“Your court wizard was correct.” Naji glowered, his scar turning him menacing.

“Oh.” Queen Saida frowned, and Kaol help me if it didn’t make her look even lovelier than when she smiled. “Well, I would be glad to help you, but I’m afraid I don’t have them anymore.”

The room got so quiet and so still I swore I could hear everybody’s hearts beating.

“You don’t have them?” Marjani said. “But they’re priceless–”

“They were stolen!” Queen Saida threw up her hands. “By members of your lot, in fact. Pirates.”

“They are not my lot–”

“Oh, I was teasing, dearest.” She looked back at Naji. “I’m truly sorry. Father kept them in the armory and during the last sacking… Well, that’s always the first place pirates go.”

“How could they take them?” Naji’s voice had gone quiet and angry. “What pirate would possibly possess the knowledge–”

“Why were they in the armory?” I asked, cause I didn’t feel like listening to Naji rant about the idiocy and unworldliness of pirates.

“Because Father thought of them as weapons.” Queen Saida looked at me and I felt myself blushing under her gaze. “Not that he or anyone else could ever figure out how to use them as such. Not even the wizards would touch them without special gloves.”

“Oh yes,” said Marjani. “The gloves. I remember now… What was that lord’s name, the one who always paraded around with them…?”

Queen Saida laughed. “The Lord of Juma. That was his title, anyway. I don’t remember his proper name. But he was always showing off.” She laughed again, and Marjani glowed. If the two of them were gonna be like that the whole time, we’d never get anything done.

“What pirates stole ’em?” I asked. “Were they Confederation?”

“Confederation?” Queen Saida furrowed her brow. “I’m not certain. They were pirates.”

I frowned. “You didn’t see their colors?”

“She means the flag,” said Marjani.

Queen Saida shrugged. “I didn’t see them. I get whisked away at the slightest hint of danger – you can ask the captain of the guard.” She smiled at me. “Are you going to track them down, like in a story? I’ve heard some of the Empire stories about the starstones. You ought to be careful.”

“Naji needs those stones,” I said.

Naji looked up at me from across the table. I turned away.

“Gero!” Queen Saida called out. A man in bronzed armor detached himself from the wall and bowed. “I know you heard the question. No need to pretend in front of me. What do you remember about the ships that stole the starstones?”

Gero nodded again before he started speaking. “They were Confederation, my Light,” he said.

“I still don’t know what that means.”

“Confederation pirates sail under common laws, although individual ships and fleets remain independently captained,” Gero said, which wasn’t quite true, but I didn’t feel like correcting him. “I don’t remember the flag, however. I’m sorry. It wasn’t one I recognized.”

“Who would you recognize?” I asked.

Gero turned to me. “The Lao clan,” he said. “And the Shujares. The Hariris. The Liras.”

The clans most prone to attacking the Free Countries.

“That at least narrows it down,” I said. “Thanks.”

The guard kinda squinted at me then, like he wanted to say something about me recognizing all those pirate clans. But he didn’t. He just turned to Queen Saida and bowed and then pressed back against the wall.

“Well,” said Queen Saida. “I’m truly sorry that wasn’t more helpful.” She looked at Naji while she spoke. “I’ll see if I can find out more information for you, and when you make sail, I’ll lend you some ships and crew from my own fleet.”

“Saida, you don’t have to–” Marjani leaned forward over the table and pressed her hand against Queen Saida’s arm.

Queen Saida held up her own hand. “Of course I don’t have to,” she said. “It’s not a matter of what I have to do; it’s a matter of what I want to do.”

“Thank you, my Light,” murmured Naji. He dipped his head, and emotion flickered through me – despair, creeping in like the cold northern sea, and anger like the fury of the Empire sun. Not my emotions at all.

He was in my head or I was in his: it didn’t matter. I saw past his blank assassin’s face, and I knew his hopelessness.