Page 137 of Tempest

“Try it,” the jeweler said, smiling. “Gold suits you.”

“I know,” Cat mused, her smile bittersweet. Then she turned, wrenching herself from the jewel house like a bullet pulled from the body. She certainly felt the same, sore with anger, hating everyone for the turn her life had taken.

She cursed Fell first, who proved himself to be a Meridian dog to the last, eager to serve whatever master would feed him. Then she cursed the master in question, Governor Osprin, a monster who stood central in her hatred.

But most of her rage, the bitter, aching kind she could almost forget in daylight, but could not escape in darkness—that she reserved for Valerian Kane.

If only you had listened, she thought, shoving a square of dark chocolate into her mouth. The taste of refined cacao from an Arcayan vendor helped a little, dulling the edges of her frustration. It was enough to carry her down to the Nera docks, into the hubbub of the teeming harbor.

In her new clothes, somewhere between Arcayan tunic and Meridian dress, she seemed a cross-section of the many folk in the port. The artisans had added bands of gold and turquoise embroidery to her hems and sleeves in an attempt to decorate the widow’s gown. Even they found my tastes depressing, Cat thought, glad for their skill. The bodice hugged her figure before flaring at the waist, the hem cut to mid-calf to allow her to get in and out of a boat without soaking the dress. And the sleeves could be buttoned high above the elbow, if the heat demanded. But Cat kept them long to the wrist, reluctant to show a tattoo more damning than her face.

Most of the ships were transports, ferrying passengers between the islands of the Lyrian Sea. After a few careful questions and quiet observations, Cat learned the Travesa and the Dorales were Esperese ships bound for Itzima. The first directly, but in a week’s time. And the second departed in the morning, but returned to Alvaris first, before making the journey south.

Neither were ideal, and Cat pondered both over a steaming mug of tea, flavored with cacao and cinnamon. From her perch in a small shop overlooking the harbor, she could see the mainmast of the Fledge. The deck was empty.

Much as she hated Jasper Fell, Cat begrudgingly admitted he would never betray his men. Not for any price, in coin or pain.

The Fledge was not the only ship she watched. The harbor seemed a veritable parade, from the armed brigantines to sloops like the Fledge to barges and fat-bellied transports. Esperese flags, Arcayan streamers, Itziman pennants. And more than a few flying no colors at all, for safety in neutral waters, Cat ventured, same as the Fledge.

But there were no pirate vessels she recognized. No men-o’-war. No ships of the line. Not even galleons. If Valerian Kane was gathering warships, they were not in Nera. And neither was he.

Black clouds gathered on the horizon, but miles away, too far off to worry over. Even so, she itched at the thought of spending a week in the city. She was no friend to the pirates, no matter what her reputation said. And Fell would protect his men, but not her, not anymore. He still held a sword over her head, and she intended to be far away when it fell.

The Dorales it was, then. To flee as fast as she could and put the world she knew behind her once and for all. Quickly, she left the tea shop and returned to the harbor, paying for the dawn passage with carefully measured coins.

She would be gone before the first storm clouds reached Nera. It was time to chase a new horizon.

* * *

“YOU’VE DONE THIS before,” Cat reminded herself, watching her reflection in the tiny mirror purchased earlier in the day. It was one of many wares strewn about the little room at the limestone inn, alongside her parcels of clothing and new baggage. “You can start again. Again.”

She huffed, scowling into the glass. Looking at herself, at what she had become, it was difficult to swallow. Six months ago, she had a plan and a heading and enough money to do whatever she wished. And as much as she wanted to blame Fell or Valerian or the whole damn empire for where she was now, she had to blame herself too. Her greed. Her pride.

And her own weak heart, her fear. The ill-founded hope that kept her holding on too long. Until everything burned around her, and the corpses swung high.

“Welcome to the Lyrian Sea,” she cursed aloud.

The mirror did not reply, and Cat almost threw it across the little bedroom. Instead, she stared at herself, weighing the seemingly infinite—and still very limited—options left to her.

I could stay right here, lock my door until dawn, and then head down to the docks and the Dorales.

She blinked at herself, hair still wet from a much-needed bath. It trailed to the middle of her back, chestnut curls dark and damp, soaking through her new shift.

I could go out into the city, find a little dinner, and return before the revels truly begin.

In the window, the first stars pinpricked a purple sky. Music drifted up from the streets—drums, fiddles, flutes, and conch trumpets creating a merry tune. Cat could not help but tap a foot against the tiled floor, keeping time with the melody.

I could sit myself down at a card table, bet a few coins from my purse, and board the Dorales a richer woman, with a stronger foundation on which to build.

Her jaw clenched, the mirror reflecting a hardened woman with coin-bright eyes and a determined look. She felt the greed rise up again, the same terrible want that had made her linger in Archenport. It was a burden still—but a boon too.

The only shield in this world is money. Not love or loyalty or even your wits. Only wealth keeps you alive—and free.

It was a hard lesson to learn, but Cat learned it long ago.

Quickly, she donned a new dress, black with amber accents to match her eyes, and belted her purse around her waist. Instead of boots, she slipped on a pair of Arcayan sandals, the braided strips of leather winding around her feet. Intricate gold and shell beading decorated the ankles, flashing as she walked.

It matched the small hoops in her ears, two golden circles hastily bought from a smaller jeweler on the way back to the inn. Cat Rose never could resist a bit of shine.