I don’t tell her that based on the last two river shipments, that’sexactlywhat’s going to happen.
To sail these ships out of Bahari waters once we’ve secured them, we’ll need a small swarm of able-bodied sailors baring deep Rouste or Ocruth roots with their feet onthisside of that wall.
So far, we only have forty-three.
“I have this urge to storm back there and feed him my fist,” she mutters, pulling a black leaf from the satchel and stuffing it in her mouth.
I want to do far worse than that.
“I noticed the travelers were all frightened the moment they stepped off the barge …”
She nods, chewing. “We almost missed a stop last night after seeing a pack of Vruk edging along the riverbank.”
My heart lurches. “TowardLorn?”
Another nod. “Thisside of the border. Not your problem.”
No, but if Cainon’s attitude at the Conclave is anything to go by, I doubt he’s going to bother the risk of pinching a nerve in the effort to protect them.
“They’re traders, not warriors.”
“And the village will surely be missed come his yearly tithe.” Cindra extends the open pouch toward me. “Want some? Blunts the edge.”
Ignoring the offer, I turn and stare out the mouth of the alley.
Inherdirection.
I have everything I ever wanted, and you’re ruining it.
I tighten my fists, knuckles popping.
I need to respect her wishes. Give her space. Drain some of the murderous energy crackling through my veins before she’s forced to see that side of me …
Fuck.
“Isn’t it best to just let the Vruk inch their way here?” Cindra says past her mouthful, and I hear her spit. “Perhaps the Southern High Master’s help would come easier once they weather the same wrath.”
No.
“That’s not how I do things.” I reach into my pocket, pull out a loop of keys, and toss them at her. “Graves Inn. Shit end of town.”
“Charming,” she chimes, pocketing them.
“You can trust the innkeeper. See the crew make it to their lodgings. Make sure everyone’s comfortable and heartily fed.”
I dig my hand in my pocket again, pulling out the heavy weight of a silver token that I flip at her.
She’s swift to snatch it, frowning. “Master?”
“There is a very disgruntled whaling crew. Captain Rowell’s ship is berthed on the other side of the pier. If I don’t return and our people keep getting pushed back, follow that lead. He could be a viable backup, and from the looks of that ship, they know how to sail in rough seas.”
I spin, stalking down the alleyway.
“He wouldn’t show your people the same respect!” Cindra belts at my back as I turn onto the main street, it’s only occupant a rat that scurries over the cobbles, then disappears into a hole in the wall.
“I know,” I murmur, charging toward the river.
“You’re not trying hard enough,” Elder Creed says, his words stabbing down at me—lumped in a sodden, heaving pile on the floor amongst my puddle of spew.
