The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4) (31 page)

“Thank you, but I’ll pull my own weight,” Tinjin said, shouldering his bag.

“Aye, sir,” Pierce said. He ran back across the swaying gangplank and disappeared among the other sailors and porters who were stuffing the hold with supplies for the return voyage.

Pierce returned a minute later with his uncle, a middle-aged man in knee-high boots and a sun-bleached overcoat. The man’s unruly hair was swept back and stiff as though he spent a lot of time facing into the wind, and his leathery face bore the same slightly elfin features as his sister’s. His slight smile seemed to stretch against the rictus of his perpetual toothy sneer, and when he spoke, it was through his teeth to keep the long-stemmed pipe clenched between them from falling free.

“Master Tinjin,” he said, “I’m Captain Greene. You’re ready to go, I take it?”

“Yes, Captain,” Tinjin said, “Thank you for having me.” His hand emerged from his pocket with a bulging sack of coins.

Captain Greene raised his hand. “You pay when I get you there, sir, not before.”

“You have my every confidence, Captain,” Tinjin laughed, “I’d just as soon be free of its weight.”

“No, sir,” Greene hissed through his teeth, “It’s bad luck, bein’ paid before the cargo’s delivered.”

“Ah, my apologies, Captain,” Tinjin said, returning the coins to his pocket, “It seems I have much to learn about the ways of the sea.”

“Plenty o’ time for that, sir,” Greene said, stretching his grin a bit tighter, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll have Mister Nash square you away while I see to the finals.”

“Of course, Captain,” Tinjin said, “although I did wish to introduce you to a friend of mine who may be interested in sailing with you at some later date.”

Greene, already half turned to go raised a bushy eyebrow and eyed Garrett and the disguised Ymowyn suspiciously.

“This is young master Wyn,” Tinjin said, “a gentleman of exemplary character. I can vouch for him.”

“Another wizard?” Greene demanded.

“Not exactly,” Tinjin said, looking to Ymowyn.

“A healer, sir,” Ymowyn said, bowing slightly.

“Hmph,” Captain Greene said, squinting at the fox woman’s illusion, “Get you some sun and learn to tie a few knots, and I can find a berth for you if you’re ever lookin’ to go to sea.”

“Aye, sir,” Ymowyn answered in a surprisingly gruff voice.

Greene turned and stamped away, leaving them with Pierce as he returned to his ship.

Tinjin turned to face Garrett and Ymowyn and nodded. “I suppose this is it, then,” he sighed, “I never really cared for this sort of thing… goodbyes. My heart prefers to imagine that we will see one another again soon, and I think that’s the best way to go about it.”

Garrett nodded. He was having trouble meeting the old man’s gaze.

“I’ll see you soon, Garrett,” Tinjin said, taking him in his arms and squeezing tightly.

Garrett hugged him back. “I’ll see you soon,” he whispered.

Tinjin released him then and gave Ymowyn a brief hug in turn.

“Tell Max I said
hi,
” Garrett said, his voice starting to break with emotion.

Tinjin nodded. “I’ll send him back home as soon as I can,” he said, “and then… well, I don’t know what happens then… but I am anxious to find out.” He grinned fiercely and looked away toward the channel leading out to the sea.

“Good luck, Tinjin,” Ymowyn said.

“Good luck to us all!” Tinjin laughed, and then he turned and strode across the dock and plank onto the waiting ship with Pierce close behind.

Garrett broke down in sobs, and Ymowyn guided him back toward the carriage.

“Do you mind if I ride back with you?” she whispered when they reached the carriage door, “My face is killing me.”

“It’s all right,” Garrett said, climbing inside and sitting down to dry his eyes on his sleeves.

Ymowyn pulled the door shut behind them and scrubbed the illusion from her face with human hands that were suddenly red-furred paws. “Ah,” she gasped, wiggling her nose and baring her fangs experimentally, “That’s better!”

Garrett stared at the floor, saying nothing.

Ymowyn looked around the interior of the coach, tracing her fingertips across the black velvet cushions. “This is nice,” she said, “but how do you make it go?”

“Oh,” Garrett said, suddenly aware that he was the carriage’s owner now. He turned and banged his fist against the wall of the carriage, yelling, “Home!”

The carriage lurched into motion, turning back toward the city and rolling along the crowded dock, sailors and porters parting to give a wide berth to the undead horses and their burden.

“Wait, I have to get to class!” Garrett reminded himself. He banged on the wall again and shouted, “Temple!”

“Did you want me to drop you off somewhere else first?” he asked Ymowyn, but she shook her head. Garrett sank back into the seat and lost himself in his thoughts once more.

“Thank you for the ride,” Ymowyn said, smoothing the front of her dress and adjusting her tail on the seat beside her.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not easy being on your own,” she said.

“Huh?” he said, stirring from his thoughts.

“You’ve never really had the chance to be your own person before,” she said, “It can be a bit daunting at first.”

“Yeah,” he said, “I guess.”

“What are you going to do now?” she asked.

“I dunno, I guess just keep doing what I have been doing,” he said.

“That’s a terrible idea,” she laughed.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You’re a young man who has suddenly found himself the master of his own fate,” she said with a grin, “I demand that you make at least one stupid decision by this time next week.” She reached across to slap him on the knee. “It’s practically a rite of passage!”

“But I don’t want to make any stupid decisions,” he protested.

“That’s got nothing to do with it,” she laughed, “You are required to do something stupid, and there’s no debating it! Get drunk, start a fight, pursue dangerous women… there’s no end to the debauchery a young man might commit once he’s loosed upon the world. Do something stupid, Garrett!”

He gave her a baffled stare. “That sounds like terrible advice,” he said.

Ymowyn shrugged. “I’m a terrible person,” she laughed, “but the advice is good. Trust me Garrett.”

Garrett smiled. “I’ll try,” he said.

“That’s the spirit, Kingslayer!” she said, raising her fist toward the sky.

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he sighed.

“I don’t care,” she said, “I’m a terrible person, remember? Someone has to remind you of your glorious conquests from time to time, otherwise you’d be in danger of becoming overly humble.”

“I didn’t kill him!” Garrett said.

Ymowyn raised her hands, open palmed. “If it weren’t for you, he’d still be alive, wouldn’t he?” she said.

Garrett said nothing.

“You may not have meant to kill him, but your actions led to his death, and the world is a better place for it,” she said.

Garrett scoffed and looked away.

“It
is
a better place,” she insisted, “No matter what you might think of Prince Cabre, I would rather that weak-willed boy was sitting on my country’s throne than that monster he called his father.”

Garrett gave her a look of disgust.

“Of course I would much rather a true king were sitting upon the throne,” she said, “and all the Chadiri driven from our lands.”

“Where are you gonna find one of those?” Garrett laughed.

She gave him a hard look.

“What?” he asked.

Lady Ymowyn smiled slyly and looked away. “The last Songreaver had no qualms about taking other people’s thrones,” she said.

Icy fingers seemed to close around Garrett’s heart, and he held his breath until the feeling passed. He gave Ymowyn a look of disbelief.

“Just something to think about,” she said, grinning sharply. She glanced out the window and suddenly exclaimed, “Ooh, roses! Let me out here, please.”

Garrett called out for the coachman to halt, and the carriage rolled to a stop in the middle of a busy market.

Lady Ymowyn swung open the door and hopped out.

“Thanks again for the ride, Garrett,” she said, poking her head back inside, “and don’t forget to do something awful by next week! I’m holding you to your promise!”

“I didn’t promise anything!” he cried.

Ymowyn’s eyes flared angrily, and she touched her fingertip to her nose before pointing it at him. “Something stupid!” she said, “No argument, or I’ll have Warren introduce you to a few of those Marrowvyn girls!”

Garrett sighed in frustration as the fox woman gave him a final wink and slammed the coach door shut.

*******

Garrett and Banden walked together after sparring class, letting the heat of mock combat fade from their limbs in the cool morning breeze of the outer temple grounds. Banden sported a nasty bruise across his right shoulder, but Garrett had managed to escape with only a few scratched knuckles. The class had not lasted long enough to inflict many serious injuries today. Matron Shelbie had appeared halfway through and shared a whispered conversation with Matron Brix. Afterwards, the initiates had been given the rest of the day off without explanation.

“You think it has to do with that thing you saw sneaking into the temple?” Banden asked.

“Maybe,” Garrett said, “Serepheni seemed really upset about it when I told her, and she was going to tell the High Priestess.”

“I wonder if it works for the Chadiri?” Banden said.

“Who else?” Garrett said.

“It just doesn’t seem very brave or noble,” Banden said, “sending some creepy guy in to spy on us like that.”

“What’s that got to do with it?” Garrett asked.

“I don’t know,” Banden said, “It’s just something my sister told me once. She said you have to look at people’s reasons for doing things to understand what they might do next. I mean, with the Chadiri, it’s all about showing the world how brave and strong they are. They want everybody else to know that they’re the best at everything, and their god is the strongest. This just seems kinda… sneaky for them.”

“They sent those demons after you and my friends,” Garrett said, “That wasn’t very brave.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Banden admitted, “but I’ve been thinking about that too. I mean you said those things were working for the Inquisitor, but that his own people didn’t like him very much. What if he’s doing something he’s not supposed to? What if he’s the real spy, and, if the other Chadiri found out,
he’d
be in trouble?”

Garrett considered it for a moment. “Maybe you’re right,” he said, “That would explain a lot.”

“Maybe we should go tell the Chadiri about what he’s up to,” Banden said.

Garrett laughed.

“I’m serious,” Banden said.

Garrett frowned. “Well, assuming they didn’t kill us on sight,” Garrett said, “Why would they take our word over his?”

“I don’t know,” Banden said, his eyes falling, “I just wish there was some way we could just talk with them and try to work things out.”

“Is that what the Peacebringers do?” Garrett asked.

Banden blinked. “Yeah, I guess so,” he laughed, “I wasn’t really thinking about it like that, but, yeah, I think that’s what they did.”

“Are there any of them left anywhere that could help us?” Garrett asked.

“I don’t know,” Banden said, “I never really paid attention to what my sister did back then. There might still be some Peacebringers left alive somewhere, but I wouldn’t know where to find them.”

“Banden!” a girl’s voice called out, and the two boys saw that Frae was waving at them from an opening in the wall of a nearby hedge maze.

Banden grinned and took a look around to make certain no one else was watching. He and Garrett jogged over the green wall and stepped through the gap into the leafy shadows where the girl waited. The two shared a brief kiss, and the young priestess glanced nervously at Garrett as she pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” Banden asked.

“Nothing,” Frae said, looking away, “I just… I just saw something that bothered me a little.”

“What was it?” Banden asked.

She glanced at Garrett again before looking away. “I’m not supposed to talk about it,” she said, “it was something in the Inner Sanctum.”

“Garrett’s my friend,” Banden said, “You can trust him.”

Frae took a breath to steady herself. “I don’t know…” she said.

“Did it have something to do with why they canceled classes today?” Banden asked.

“No… I don’t know what that was about,” she said, “This was something else.”

“Tell me,” Banden said, “Maybe I can help.”

Frae’s eyes moved toward Garrett again and just as quickly away. “You have to promise that you won’t tell anyone… either of you.”

“We won’t!” Banden said, “I promise.”