Gazing up and down the waterfront, Chap searched for Magiere, or more likely Brot’an, who would stand out—up—above everyone else. There was no sign of them.
Leanâlhâm stepped closer. “Magiere and Brot’ân’duivé will come soon.”
Chap huffed and kept peering every which way. It did not help that he was so much shorter than the flow of passersby.
The decision of who would remain at the inn and who would come to meet Magiere had been made quickly. One of them needed to stay behind to watch over their gear. They could not risk theft in leaving it unattended. The obvious guardian was Leesil, but Chap had run into trouble before while moving about alone in populated areas.
In the end, Leanâlhâm had suggested she go with him, considering that Magiere had already framed him as some sort of “pet.” Leesil had agreed reluctantly. So now Chap stood waiting on the waterfront with a quarter-blood girl who was completely out of place and ignorant of all that weighed in the balance.
Two passing young sailors glanced at the girl—then stared a little longer. At least this time she wasn’t pulling at her pants. But she ducked behind him, away from the men, and Chap raised his jowls, exposing teeth with a low rumble. Both men hurried on.
“Strong majay-hì,” Leanâlhâm whispered.
—Chap— ... —Use—my—name—
Instead she suddenly rose on tiptoes, craning her head. “Look!”
Chap lifted his head as high as possible, trying to see through the crowds.
Magiere’s dark hair, pale skin, and hauberk stood out in a break among the merchants, sailors, and dockworkers. Then Brot’an appeared behind her, and Chap rumbled again, his hackles rising instinctively.
There had to be a way to leave behind the old assassin, who never did anything unless it served his own agenda. As Chap’s gaze returned to Magiere, he fervently wished she could see this.
He felt an unexpected, unwanted stab of regret for all that she’d been through in the past year—all that she’d put herself through. She’d changed so much, and he sometimes saw a hardened withdrawal in her face that had not always been there.
An unbidden flash of memory hit Chap.
On the sea voyage from the eastern continent to this one, the world had seemed so different. The trip was not unpleasant, except for Leesil’s persistent seasickness during the first third of the crossing. Chap, Magiere, Leesil, and Wynn had remained together, eventually arriving on the central continent’s eastern shore. They’d then headed west overland with a merchant caravan making the long haul across the entire continent to the Numan Lands and the nation of Malourné, Wynn’s homeland.
Magiere, Leesil, and Wynn thought they were taking the first orb—of Water—to the Guild of Sagecraft’s founding branch in Calm Seatt. With that, they would be finished with their burden. Leesil had honestly believed that he could then take Magiere home to their Sea Lion tavern in the little coastal town of Miiska.
That haven was so much farther off than half a world away.
Chap had known better—and had suspected Magiere did as well. In the end he’d had to make Leesil, and Magiere, face the truth. They could never leave the orb with the sages, who could not protect it and keep it hidden. The three of them had to hide it somewhere no one would find it.
When they were within sight of Calm Seatt in the distance, they sent a heartbroken Wynn on alone. At the time, they believed she would be safer there, and the three of them had headed north to hide the orb.
Since it had originally been uncovered in a high, cold place, they reasoned that it should be hidden in a similar remote and frozen location. Leesil had groaned for days at the prospect of another slog through an icy land, and he griped endlessly about having to ride a horse, as he hated that mode of travel almost as much as sailing by sea.
They had not even known much about where to go until well into the journey. Only then had they learned from locals about the land of the far north simply called the Wastes. To reach that region, they first had a long journey ahead.
They made for the more northern territories, northwest of Malourné, bypassing the peninsula they would later learn was the realm of dwarves. They avoided sea travel a little longer for Leesil’s sake. Later they turned westward for the coast to find sea passage as the faster way to get closer to the icy wastelands at the top of the central continent.
Remembering that deceptively peaceful beginning, Chap wanted to close his eyes. If only he’d known then what had waited at the end of that journey.
“Magiere,” Leanâlhâm called, raising a slender hand. “Here.”
Even before Magiere and Brot’an reached them, Chap sensed tension between the two. Both appeared stiff, and neither looked at the other. Something had happened, and Chap eyed Brot’an.
Catching memories in the shadow-gripper had proven to be nearly impossible. Chap disliked being in the dark, especially concerning the master assassin. With little other choice, he focused on Magiere.
—Did—you—find—a ship—?
She winced at the memory-words in her mind and shook her head as if to clear it.
“Yes, we found one,” she answered, though she did not sound happy or relieved.
“What is wrong?” Leanâlhâm asked.
Magiere finally noticed the girl and looked Leanâlhâm up and down. At the sight of the pants, she grunted with a nod.
“Better,” she said, and Leanâlhâm took on a pouting scowl.
“Only one southbound ship was willing to take passengers,” Brot’an cut in. “It is a large ... very large cargo vessel, and by the way it sits in the water, it is heavily loaded. It will be slow and lumbering, likely making many stops along the way.”
“It’s the best we could do,” Magiere added. “Luckily it’s going all the way to our destination on the Suman coast, so we won’t waste coin seeking additional passage along the way.”
“When ... do we leave?” Leanâlhâm asked hesitantly.
“First light tomorrow,” Brot’an answered.
At that, Leanâlhâm looked about the busy port, as if anxiously searching for something ... or someone. Magiere frowned but said nothing. Perhaps there was nothing more she could say to the girl concerning Osha.
Magiere looked down at Chap. “Did you find us a room?”
—Yes— ... —Leesil—is waiting—
“Only one room,” Leanâlhâm said, “to save money. Leesil is guarding our belongings. Come, we will show you.”
As the girl turned toward a steep inland road, she stalled at the sight of people disembarking from a newly arrived ship. Chap stepped ahead, tugging her into motion with the rope leash.
He glanced back as he walked and tried to dip into her rising memories, something he could do only when he had a direct sight line to a person. Chap caught an image rising in Leanâlhâm’s mind of another dock at another port, one that he recognized.
Ghoivne Ajhâjhe—Edge of the Deep—was the only port, the only true city, in all of the Elven Territories on the far side of the eastern continent. Inside the memory Chap saw—Leanâlhâm saw—a tall, tan-skinned figure striding toward her down a dock at night. Loose white-blond hair hung past his shoulders.
Osha wasn’t wearing the forest gray garb of an anmaglâhk. Over his shoulder was the long and narrow canvas-wrapped bundle, tied to his back by a hemp cord, just as Chap had seen a few days before in Calm Seatt. On that dock, far away in the world, in time, in that memory, Osha stopped before he even reached the shore.
He stared in shock at the sight of Chap ... or rather Leanâlhâm.