“As certain as you are that you can sail a boat.”
Marin laughed and held up her hands in surrender. “Sorry. Of course. We’ll see you at the Kraken’s Nest, where we’ll feast to your success.”
At the end of the dock, they split up. The cat went with Dax, andthe shrub came with Marin, while the sea serpent played with the seagulls and the stray winged cats in the harbor.
The job board was exactly that: a board posted within a gazebo in the town square that was covered with notes advertising available jobs. Some of them were for landfolk—gardening and housekeeping jobs mostly, as well as a few workers advertising their skills (a childminder looking for part-time work, a flying-sheep herder, and an enchanted cake baker, though the ad wasn’t clear whether it was the baker or their cakes that were enchanted). Marin scanned the ones relevant to supply runners while Ree bounced beside her.
“I can’t see,” Ree said.
“Want me to pick you up?” she offered.
“Yes, please.”
She scooped him up and held him level with the job postings.
“Second problem,” Ree said. “I can’t read.”
“You can’t read?” Marin wondered why she was surprised. He was a bush. He shouldn’t have been able to talk. “We can do lessons on that after you’ve learned how to sail, if you’d like.”
He hugged her with his branches. “I love you, Marin.”
Marin patted his leaves and wondered why her eyes had suddenly decided to feel all hot and teary. “Me too, Ree. Me too.” She inhaled and blinked hard until the moisture went away.
Behind her, a familiar voice said, “Tell me you didn’t scoop up all the choice jobs before I had a chance.”
Luckily, the last of her sappy tears were gone in time for her to turn around with a smile for her fellow supply runner. “Hey, Tavo. How’s sailing?”
“Good, all good.” Tavo looked exactly the same as he had the last time she saw him: sunburnt and smiling, with a mouth as broad as a horse’s mouth and hair that trailed down his back in a thick braid. He wore a red tunic so bright that it made tomatoes look pale. “Youknow, excepting everything.” He waved his hand airily, to indicate the state of the world.
He must have been near Alyssium. Not surprising. Most supply runners made the capital part of their route, due to the number of goods that needed to be transported into and out of the city. Big contracts went on bigger ships and barges docked at the port, but smaller businesses often used private runners who could navigate the canals. Despite the tariffs and the rising taxes, it was still the best way to make a living. Or at least it was before the current upheaval. It could be better, if the empire had truly fallen.Or worse, if it hasn’t.“What’s the latest?” Marin asked. “Last time I was there it seemed to be on fire.” She thought again about the Great Library and hoped Rijes Velk was okay, then she thought about the undelivered letter and felt a twinge of guilt. She wished she could report back to the gardener that his family was fine. He had to be worried.
“Empire’s fallen and fire’s out,” Tavo said cheerfully. “Apparently sorcerers are good for something? Still a mess, though. I’m sticking to the outer routes. Might try west.” He peered at the job board and plucked a paper off. “Like this beauty.”
Marin turned back to the board and let his words sink in. The empire had fallen. The fire was out. It was over. Good had won, not strength and power. She hadn’t expected that. After Iovar… She shoved thoughts of him aside and took a deep breath.
She wondered how the world would change. For now, though, she studied the job board. There were a few jobs that weren’t far off her route—she wanted stops en route to Flicker so she’d still arrive in time for the festival. It would be nice to return home with a fresh bag of coins, especially since she wouldn’t be bringing her own pie.
One caught her attention: a merchant on the island of Yori wanted several specialty cheeses. It was in the right direction, and she could buy the cheeses here in Dew—she’d spotted a cheesemonger on one of her prior visits, though she’d never been inside. She plucked the job off the board, as well as a few others that looked reasonable. “Happy sailing, Tavo.”
“You too, Marin and, um, plant?”
Ree waved to him with a wad of leaves as Marin left the gazebo. She tucked the job slips into one of her many pockets, specifically a waterproofed pocket that was good for bits of paper, and, still carrying Ree, headed for the Kraken’s Nest.
Up two cobblestone streets, the Kraken’s Nest was painted a cheerful lemon yellow, with flower boxes filled with an array of festive squash. Its sign was a smiling kraken with tentacles open wide as if to hug its customers, which, in Marin’s experience, was not typically what kraken did.
She heard voices rolling out the door, along with music. A woman was singing loudly and not entirely on-key, but the tri-lute somehow danced around her voice anyway, changing key as it went as if her notes were all intentional. “Guess he was right,” Marin said to Ree.
The door was wide open, and Marin, with Ree, stepped inside.
Inside the Kraken’s Nest, both the inn’s lobby and the dining area were filled with candles everywhere: from chandeliers in the ceiling, in sconces on the walls, and along the mantel of the wall-wide brick fireplace. Bundles of herbs dangled from the rafters, filling the place with the scent of cinnamon and lavender, on top of the rich scent of spices from the food, which a few servers were carrying from table to table on platters. Most of the tables were full with families and couples, though there was the occasional solo diner. All eyes were riveted to the stage beside the fireplace, and no one noticed a sailor and a wax myrtle joining the audience.
The stage was tiny, just a raised platform next to the fireplace, and it had candles placed around its edges that flickered and danced. Dax sat on a stool on the stage, all his focus on his lute, while the singer, a woman with tawny fur and tiny antlers nestled in a crown of leafy branches, stood nearby, a serving tray in her hands with plates of food that no one seemed to care hadn’t been served.
As one song slid into the next, Dax glanced up. His gaze traveled over the audience, and it stopped when it found her. A smile lit uphis face. His fingers didn’t stop moving over the strings, and Marin felt something inside her crack open.
That music.
His smile.
