Page 88 of The Thief and the Traitor Bride

“What does this have to do with resurrection?” Gail asked. He had a point; Nore had never been one for long, drawn-out stories or folklore, but she failed to see how the wrath and forgiveness of the sea goddess could lead to anything more than another stormy sea.

“The central myth is that of resurrection,” Terlo said. “When Retarik—”

“The mage,” Caspian said.

“In our current terminology, yes. The first mage. When Retarik died, Kitalma—”

“The first well,” Caspian said.

Terlo angled him a level look. “Just because you missed the explanation doesn’t mean everyone else did.”

Caspian waved a hand, sitting back in his chair. He lazily draped an arm over Nore’s shoulders.

“When Retarik was lost to sea in the battle, Kitalma begged the goddess of the sea for her life back. She did succeed, and Retarik was returned to the land of the living. Some sources say that when she returned, she bore a child, or even multiple children, but the interpretation of that is unclear and potentially impossible—”

Nore snorted. “So the resurrection is totally possible, but not the child?”

Terlo’s patience was remarkable. “We can discuss that point later. The greater discovery: Retarik’s life was given back by the goddess of the sea. She was resurrected. So, if there is some artifact or icon, I believe it would have to do with her.”

“Hmm,” Caspian said. He sipped his own coffee—he drank it sweeter than even Nore’s—and said, “Isn’t there a temple to Retarik?”

“Is that the one in the forest?” Nore asked. “I went there this morning, to see what remained.”

It was Caspian’s turn to look surprised. “You did?”

She shrugged, brushing off his surprise. “You were busy. I was awake. I wanted to see what I found.”

“And did you?” Caspian asked, his voice odd. He ran a finger along the rim of his coffee cup. “Find anything, I mean.”

For a half second, Nore thought about saying… something. But she looked up and caught the intent way Gail was listening. Something about it didn’t feel right—not until she knew.

“No,” Nore said decidedly. “Graves, mostly. Ruins. Terlo might find more meaning there, but I could not.”

“I can go back, to be sure,” Terlo said. “Caspian, where did we say the other temple was? It’s not in Maerin, no?”

“In Osar,” Caspian said. “Only, I don’t think it’s a temple anymore. It was in one of the books you lent me.” He paused. “And it sounded as if some of the High Lady’s guard leave tributes there. For her safety.”

“Did you learn that this morning?” Nore asked. Even Gail was looking at Caspian with new appraisal.

Caspian shrugged.

“Well,” Terlo said, thinking this through. “Then that should be where we start looking.”

I received a disappointing report from Finch. I don’t suppose you have business to see to up north? If there is anything you have in terms of persuasion, I daresay now is the time.

Dove to Tern, 1636 UCE

seventeen

IT WASN’T POSSIBLE FOR her to join the investigation that afternoon: Nore received a note after breakfast that her shipment was arriving later that day, so she spent half of the afternoon in the harbormistress’s offices, finalizing declarations and providing manifestos while Caspian and Terlo went to Locke’s old university archives to search for more information on Retarik’s resurrection and the temple in Osar.

Gail walked her down to the port, careless as ever—supposedly, he had an afternoon appointment nearby. It was good, she thought, to spend time alone with Gail. After the papers were finalized, they waited together at the harbor front.

“How was your meeting yesterday?” Nore asked.

Gail cast her a sidelong look. Nore understood; when she was on missions with other spies, she never inquired about their work, and they never asked about hers. At least that rule he seemed aware of.

“Fruitful,” he said flatly. “And you? Any report from dinner last night with Thrick?”