***
A sheen of cold sea mist coated my skin as I stared at the approaching coastline. My grip tightened around the satchel pressed to my hip, and I braced my legs against the dip and sway of the ship’s motion.
I’d spent hours crossing the channel above deck, taking in the fresh, salty air and trying to come up with a plan. The meager amount of coins in my satchel weren’t likely to set Thomas or Mr. Edwin free, and the gulls overhead seemed to swoop and cry their agreement as if they could read my mind.
I knew a little about the man who’d accused Thomas of theft. Mostly anecdotes from stories floating around our village. His daring adventures were fodder for the gossips, but the later stories made him sound more like a villain from a fairy tale than an actual person. Bowen MacKenzie was a treasure hunter who’d found fame and fortune discovering some of the kingdom’s most prized artifacts until his last expedition ended in disaster. Now, the dashing adventurer was a disfigured recluse who’d gained the nickname “Bowen the Beast.”
I heaved a sigh and grumbled under my breath, “Just my luck. Thomas couldn’t have been accused by the local baker, could he? Figures it would be by a man with an ominous nickname.”
The ship docked before I was ready, and I followed the other passengers down the narrow gangway. With my feet firmly planted on solid ground, I scanned the crowd swarming the harbor.
“Which way to the agency?” I asked a sailor unloading luggage, but he shrugged and walked off with a crate balanced on his shoulder.
A hysterical laugh bubbled in my throat. I swiped my sleeve across my brow. This was crazy! I didn’t know where I was going or even what I planned to say when I got there.
Thomas’s steady voice echoed in my ears, and I drew in a deep breath.Don’t think of everything you have to do, only the task in front of you.He’d instilled that saying into me whenever a problem seemed too overwhelming, and this seemed like a good time to put his advice to use. First, I needed to find the agency. I’d worry about the rest later.
Leaving the docks, I walked down an alley that led to the main thoroughfare. Carriages rumbled past, weaving recklessly between shouting pedestrians. Tall buildings of wood and stone flanked both sides of the road, and the air was cleaner than the fish and sweat-infused atmosphere of the wharf.
I stood on the edge of the street, cursing my height while trying to see over the tops of men double my size. Someone jostled me from behind, and I stumbled into the roadway, landing hard on my palms.
Dirt and rocks embedded themselves into my skin as a cloud of dust blurred my vision. I cursed, brushing my stinging palms against my skirt. A sound thundered in my ears, rising above the general chaos in the street. I looked up to see giant hooves crushing gravel into the cobblestones, headed straight for me.
“Get out of the way, lady!” the carriage driver snarled, jerking on the reins.
Snarling back, I scrambled to my feet. The driver didn’t wait for me to leave the roadway. He maneuvered around me, the carriage wheels nearly taking off my toes.
Anger churned inside my stomach. I hadn’t been in the kingdom five minutes and I’d already wound up in the dirt. Gritting my teeth, I sidestepped another rolling pedestrian killer and reached beneath my cloak to wrap my fingers around the hilt of my favorite dagger.
Knowing I had the familiar weapon so close eased some of my tension. After escaping the witch, I vowed never to allow myself to be caught defenseless again, and it was an element of control I found reassuring.
Further down the lane, I finally located the spike-tipped gates that surrounded the royal agency. The kingdom’s seal glittered in the sunshine above the doorway, and long woven banners fluttered lazily in the breeze. I crossed the street, pausing as another carriage rolled past. This one was different from the others. The vehicle was sleek and black, with thick coverings over the windows giving privacy to the occupants inside. It rumbled to a stop outside the agency gates, and the sea of people parted, giving it a wide berth.
The number of onlookers grew. They whispered behind their hands, some outright gawking at the parked carriage. Even though their stares were brazen, a rising trepidation emanated from the crowd; a nervousness that reminded me of when the fair came to our village and the revelers approached the creature exhibits with giddy fascination mixed with a healthy dose of fear. I waited for the passenger to exit, wondering who could have caused the disturbance.
The door opened, and a man dressed fully in black emerged from the vehicle. He paid no attention to the gaping audience or the fact they stumbled back, increasing their distance, as he pushed through the iron gate. His formidable frame bounded up the stone steps.
“That’s him!” someone beside me gasped. “That’s Bowen the Beast.”
I craned my neck, watching his progress until he disappeared behind the heavy-looking wooden door. The noise from the crowd dimmed, turning into a buzzing nuisance.
So that was Bowen MacKenzie?
His height alone should have sent me scurrying back to the ship, but there was something captivating about him that kept me rooted in place. Maybe it was the way he seemed to manipulate the crowd, as if a single gesture from his powerful arms would send them scattering into the wind. He plowed through with intent and an air of authority I found enthralling.
As the crowd thinned, I forced myself to take the first few steps up the agency staircase. I peered at the engraved seal above the door and squared my shoulders.
Straightening to my full five foot three inches, I reviewed my newly formed plan: Storm the agency, demand my father’s release, and—if I could help it—try not to end up in a cell next to him for threatening them all with the blade at my hip.
Chapter 4
Liana
The agency clerk put down her pen and smiled politely as I approached her desk. It was a smile born from years of dealing with the public, laced with an underlying impatience that did little to calm my nerves.
“Can I help you, Miss?”
I smoothed damp palms down the front of my cloak and tried not to fidget. “Yes, my name is Liana Archer. I’m here to plead my father’s case. He’s been arrested, and I’m certain there’s been a terrible mistake.”
