Page 105 of The Isles of the Gods
When he speaks again, I’m jolted from that thought before I can follow it all the way to its conclusion. “If you don’t mind my asking, who was she?”
“Sorry, who?” I stall automatically. I understand the question, because apart from Selly, there’s only oneshein my life he could mean.
“Your betrothed,” he elaborates, unfortunately. “Something made you run instead of staying to argue with them about the Bibliotek. I assume they were going to marry you off.”
I wince. “It was Lady Carrie Dastenholtz.”
His eyes widen. “Kiki?” Then he grins again. “Keegan and Kiki. The names are a match, at least.”
“We did hear that joke once or twice,” I murmur.
“Mmm. I suppose with your father’s import interests, that makes sense.”
There it is again.Plenty of brain, if only he was inclined to useit.
“She was a logical choice,” I say.
“She’s a good sort,” Leander says. “I’ll admit I have a little trouble imagining the match.”
“She’s a very good sort,” I agree. “But you’re not alone in having trouble imagining the match. If I’m being completely honest, she helped me climb out the window.”
Leander tries in vain to muffle his laughter, his eyes dancing, and we pause together outside the general store, with its displays of preserved food and fishing gear.
“One day,” I say, “I’ll tell you the story of how she and I acquired the gold necklaces. But for now we should attend to business.”
“Keegan,” says the prince of Alinor, shaking his head slowly. “You’re a gem. And I’m a fool for not knowing that earlier.”
It turns out the general store is attended by a young woman far from immune to our prince’s charms, and I gather the items from Selly’s list while Leander flirts effortlessly, mostly managing to conceal the fact that he has no real idea of the prices of any of the items we’re purchasing. He’s the one who negotiates a discount, though, and the girl even lends us a barrow to take our purchases to the docks. He promises to return it in personthis evening.
Leander takes the first turn at pushing the load—not something I would have expected of him at school. “I’d like to get the spirit flags up into the rigging tonight,” he says, “and I’d like to go over the sailing theory again with Selly before we set off in the morning. Dawn, I assume.”
I’m studying the town idly as he speaks, letting the words flow by. The sense of company is nice, but I’m content to stay quiet. It’s almost an hour since we arrived, and already the streets are much darker, the sun mostly behind the mountainnow.
I’m learning the lay of the land, for no reason I can particularly name except it might be useful if something goes wrong. It’s when my gaze traces a path up to the station that I stop suddenly.
Leander does as well, nearly overturning the barrow. “Keegan, what is it?”
My words stick in my throat, and I lift a finger to point.
The last train for the evening is pulling away from the station, and three figures are emerging from the building and turning purposefully down the hill.
One is much larger than the other two, and it’s the slightest of the three who strides out in front.
Though I can see nothing more than their silhouettes against the dying light, a chill twitches between my shoulder blades and travels straight down my spine.
There’s no doubt in my mind I’m looking at Laskia, Jude, and the huge magician who nearly burned us at the inn.
And they’re on the hunt.
LASKIA
The Black Barnacle
Port Cathar, Mellacea
Dasriel pushes open the door to a tavern called the Black Barnacle, holding it for me as I stride through.
He’s so big he’ll need to duck his head when he follows, and I can’t deny there’s a small shiver of something inside me, knowing all that strength is at my disposal. It’s like having a lion on a leash.
