Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
The tension in my limbs slackens as we descend from the clouds. By all accounts, it looks as though Malachi’s army didn’t veer from their path south. The port is cluttered with ships, more moored in the waters around. The town is intact, if not bustling.
We direct the dragons to land on the outskirts, far enough away that panic doesn’t erupt should the people filling the alleys and streets look up.
“This might not have been the best choice in locations.” Elisaf watches Xiaric, whose attention is locked on the nearby field of cattle. “When did they eat last?”
I shrug. “They come and go. Who knows what they grab and where. But we’ll be back soon. Please do not eat the villagers’ livestock!” I call out to Caindra, who answers with a hot puff of air across my face.
The seven of us band together and head for the main gates.
“You said this mortal who helped you knows the captain of that ship?” Zander walks with purpose.
“Seamus, yes. He knew who it was.” I just can’t recall. There was too much happening that day.
“Then let us hope he is still here.”
I hold up the bag of jewels I collected from Ulysede’s vault. “Trust me, he’s still here.”
It took Abarrane two intimidating stares and one question to find out where all the sailors converge. The guards at the gate posed no resistance, far more concerned by the three dragons lingering in the field outside than who they were allowing in.
“This is where they are.” She points at the tavern sign that reads The Screaming Siren. Inside, a fiddler plays a rowdy tune, earning plenty of cheers and jeers that carry through the windows.
“They have a sense of humor, I’ll give them that much.” Jarek pushes open the door, ducking as he passes the threshold.
Inside smells of sweat and ale and freshly caught fish, and I have to hold my breath to adjust as we weave through the dense crowd. We earn plenty of looks, some curious, some hostile. No one would recognize me as the one who brought them here, given I was wearing my old face. None seem to recognize me as Princess Romeria either, which is a nice change. Zander, on the other hand, earns more than a few double takes and whispers. Many of these people lived in his city, after all.
“Can I ask that we not have a repeat of Norcaster?” Elisaf covers my back while Jarek and Solange protect my sides. Lucretia has vanished and hopefully stays that way until we’re back in Ulysede.
“If it involves a battle, know that you have an extra sword at your side,” a deep, gruff voice announces behind us.
“And a big bastard at that.” Jarek clasps hands with Horik, genuine grins plastering both their faces.
Even I can’t help forget our purpose here for a moment, diving into the massive legionary’s stomach for a hug. It’s only been days since we left him at Cirilea’s port to make sure the Silver Mage’s captain honored his commitment. “Kaders didn’t give you issues?”
“’Course he did. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“And all the ships arrived?”
“Aye, they did, Your Highness, and we got your message. The people are growing restless, though, sleepin’ in barns and streets. They push to go south to Bellcross.”
“They will no longer be doing that.” Jarek gives Horik a look before Zander steps in to greet the legionary. “Have you seen my sister here?”
“Princess Annika?” Horik shakes his head.
Zander purses his lips with disappointment. “What about the fellow named Seamus?”
“Aye, that one is right over there.” He points to the little red-haired mortal sitting by himself in the corner, his stein nearly as large as his head.
Zander wastes no time, barreling through the crowd, earning more than one sneer that falls off the moment Abarrane appears in front of them, her hand on the hilt of her sword.
“Where is my sister?” he demands, fists leaning on the table.
Seamus pauses mid-sip, his eyes widening. “Your Highness?”
I squeeze in beside Zander before he causes a scene. “The south wind blows tonight.”
Seamus falters. “And the north wind answers. But … aren’t you …”
I retrieve the mask from my satchel. Slipping it on, I morph into Romy Watts.
He gasps. “You were the Ybarisan princess all that time?”
“You wouldn’t have helped me if you knew.” I dump the mask and fish out the sack of jewels. “We made a deal. I can trust you to give these to the other captains?”
His eyes light up as he tests the weight in his palms. “They’ll skin me alive if I don’t. I couldn’t leave Northmost even if I wanted to.”
I sense Zander’s patience waning. “Listen, this is important. I remember you saying something about that ship that left ahead of everyone else.”
“The Tempest?”
“Yes! That was it. I remember now. Did it sail here?”