Page 105 of Harbinger

“Isidore.” I give him my sister’s name before anyone overhears him use mine. Too many people here have read my name in the Civicus.

Kieren’s brows bunch together, but Jude nods like he understands.

“Nice to meet you, Isidore.” He winks at me.

Jude signals for another round without asking, as if he’s decided we’re staying awhile. The tavern seems louder now, full of shouts and laughter. The noise scrapes against my nerves. I keep my hood up, but I can feel eyes sliding toward us and then away again.

“You look like someone waiting for a knife in the back,” Jude says to me. “Relax. If I was going to sell you out, I’d already be richer.”

“That’s not reassuring,” I say.

He laughs. “It should be.”

“So, how will this work?” I ask. Jude strikes me as the type who might be full of shit, and I’d rather know that before I set foot on his ship.

He explains the route like it’s a game—rough waters, forgotten lanes, places Bishop’s patrol ships won’t bother watching. “We’ll leave at dawn.”

My chest constricts, time closing in around me like a fist. That wasn’t the plan. We can’t be here in the morning.

“Dawn?” Kieren repeats, rolling his small bone token between his knuckles. He leans across the nicked table and lowers his voice. “We need to leave before—” He falls silent as the barkeep places three overflowing mugs in the center of the table.

The man squints down at Jude. “You’ll pay your tab before you go,” he warns, gold tooth glinting with every word.

Jude beams that easy smile at him. “I’m settling my finances right now.”

“Before your boots leave my threshold,” the barkeep clarifies. He turns slowly, his head tilting slightly like he’s trying to get a peek under my hood.

Kieren edges closer to me, and the man grunts and walks away. My best friend watches him leave before swiveling back to Jude. He leans forward, his voice pitching low again. “We go tonight, or you’re settling that tab yourself.”

Jude stills, both men sizing each other up. Kieren has a foot on Jude easily and the kind of muscle that comes with years spent on a farm, but the ship captain looks like he fights dirty. I press my lips together, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut. Can we really trust him to get us out of here in time?

“You drive a hard bargain.” Jude chuckles and lifts his mug. “One more for the road.” He tips his head at me. “Drink up. The ale won’t be this fresh at sea.”

I manage a few sips as they hash out final details. Their beers are long gone by the time Kieren slides a few gold coins across the table to him.

“You’ll get the rest when our feet touch the Lost Continent,” Kieren warns him.

But Jude snatches the coins up, eyes shifting around the room, and then stands swiftly. “I’ll pay the tab. Meet you outside in five.”

As we head for the door, the bartender’s gaze catches on me again. This time, he doesn’t bother hiding his interest. His gold tooth flashes when he smiles, and my stomach drops. I pick up my pace, and Kieren matches, shooting me a confused glance as I push open the door.

Outside, the night feels colder than it should, but I gulp down the fresh air.

“Once we’re aboard,” Kieren says, swinging one of our packs higher on his shoulder, the other dangling by his side, “you sleep. I’ll watch the door.”

“There’s no need.” Now who’s lying?

But he holds up a hand. “You’ll rest better.” He looks around us. “Everything will be better when we get this place behind us.”

I’m not sure I’ll stop looking over my shoulder until we’re on the Lost Continent. “Do you trust Jude?” I ask him, lowering my voice as a few men stagger out of the tavern.

“Trust might be taking it a bit far,” he admits. He glances at the tavern’s sign, then back at me. “But he didn’t ask who you were. We paid, so we’re his cargo now. He’ll protect us. I think we’re in good hands.”

Good seems like too strong a word, but I don’t argue with him. There’s enough to worry about without looking for more problems. But when the door to the tavern slams shut behind us, I nearly jump out of my skin.

Jude strides up to us, whistling. “Best get going. Tide waits for no one.”

The streets thin as we head closer to the water. Stone pavers give way to packed earth and narrow lanes that slope steadily downhill. Houses grow sparse, lights fewer, until the dark opens up and the smell of the Baron Sea rolls in heavy with salt and rot.