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“You can’t do it? Sorry, I thought you were a skilled captain.”
“’Course I can do it!” He scoffs, insulted. “But not with you two on the ship.”
“We won’t be on it. You’ll have mortals.” A plan is forming, one I hope we can execute with the help of Seamus.
“How many?”
“As many as you can fit.”
His gaze flickers between the two of us. “You plannin’ on usin’ a wagon to move that chest of gold? Because that’s how much you’ll need.”
“You’ll have more wealth than you know what to do with. And an act of goodwill on your conscience.”
He heaves a sigh. “Cirilea sure isn’t what it was, and I’m hearin’ whispers of a comin’ war that I want no part of. When you wantin’ to leave port?”
“As soon as possible. By tomorrow night at the latest.” Cirilea’s army out of the city helps my cause. Hopefully, Atticus joins them.
Kaders puckers his lips. “I’m stayin’ at the Trinket Inn. You get me that letter and the gold, and I’ll get your mortals to Northmost.”
“You’ll get both. Have your crew ready, but don’t tell any of them what for.”
“Aye, I know what loose lips they have after a few pints.” He turns to go back inside.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Jarek warns. “There’s only trouble to be had in there. Go back to your inn and get rested.”
“Here. As down payment for our deal.” I hand him the dagger.
He tests its weight in his palm. “Haven’t seen quality like this before.”
“And there’s plenty more where that came from.” Jarek steps in close, to loom over the captain. “But if you cross us in any way, I’ll bury that in your stomach.”
“Yeah, yeah, you Islorians and your threats. Can’t wait to get away from this fates-damned city and you lot.” Kaders ambles down the alley.
We move in the opposite direction.
“What was it you said? That we are just here to gather information?” Jarek sighs.
“Things change. The city’s gates are locked, no one in or out. Wendeline is alive. Atticus has her marking all the mortals like I told him to and then executing any who glow. He’s taking all the mortal children from their families.”
Jarek curses. “He’ll be keeping them in the castle.”
“Seamus says people are pissed. There’s talk of storming the castle, from both mortals and the keepers. I don’t know …” I shake my head. “I have a bad feeling in my gut about all this. We need to get as many of these mortals out of this city as possible.”
“I can eliminate the guards, if you think you can blow through the gate.”
“I don’t know if I can. And that many? You’re good, but you’re not that good, and I won’t risk losing you. Plus, we can’t leave Cirilea completely unprotected.” I download all that I learned about the coming war in the east. “The city needs their gate intact and the king’s guard alive. The Silver Mage is our best plan.”
“It won’t fit everyone.”
“No, but between it and the other ships, we should be able to move out a lot.”
“You want to steal ships.”
“No. Seamus know the captains. We’re going to bribe them.”
“And all this gold we’ll need in order to do that, how do you plan on transporting it all the way from Ulysede’s vault, down to the crypt, through the stone, and all the way down to the port?”
“That’ll be tricky.”
“More like impossible.”
I bite my lip. A thought strikes me. “Do you happen to know where Cirilea’s vault is?”
He chuckles. “So now we’re thieves, working with thieves.”
Like old times. I smile as I slide into a comfortable coat.
We exit out the alley onto Port Street.
Where the soldier with the beard waits for us, his sword drawn.
Jarek’s blade is out before I can process what’s going on.
“I was sure you were dead by now.” The bearded male’s attention is on Jarek, his stance set for a fight.
Jarek’s returning grin is vicious. “I’d hoped you were.”
“Seems both of us are disappointed, then.” His hazel-green eyes flip to me. “You keep bad company.”
“I’ve heard that once or twice before.” Who is this guy? He doesn’t look familiar, but Jarek obviously knows him. All I know is he’s attached to Atticus. Did he come out here to wait for us on his own, or was he instructed to? I guess we got off too easy.
“This is Kazimir, His Highness’s personal lackey,” Jarek answers my unspoken thoughts. “I’ve heard he washes Atticus’s ass crack for him on the daily.”
“Only when he asks nicely.” The male—Kazimir—holds his easy smile. A façade, surely. “Who are you and what are you doing with a legionary in our city?”
I mock gasp. “Is that what he is? Why didn’t you tell me what you were?” I playfully smack Jarek’s forearm.
His jaw clenches. He’s never appreciated my charades. “I think you should be more worried about the mercenaries stationed in the windows across the street with their arrows pointed this way than a pretty female and her guard who want to leave. I doubt they’re here for us.”
