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Lights flickered to life. I saw Lirr standing before me, but instead of the earthy, forest green light of a Sooth like myself, I glimpsed something opalescent, churning with every shade of green and red. It fluttered, smoke in the wind, and vacillated into a pale silver.

I had never seen anything like it. It was widely known that Lirr was a mage of multiple affinities, but this? This was beyond my knowledge.

Passages from the Mereish book of ghistlore flitted through my mind, mentions of mages and Adjacents, categories of sorcery I had never been taught. Was this what I was seeing now?

Lirr did not look at me. Instead, we both turned as Mary’s light flickered into sight beyond the side door, the one where Usti soldiers were funneling guests out of danger.

Back in the physical world, something struck me. Pain jerked me back into my bones and I found myself on the floor, ribs screaming, a cudgel coming down at my head.

I kicked out, shattering the knee of my assailant, and staggered upright.

The pirates had begun to flee, snatching jewelry and candlesticks and handfuls of food as they rushed back through the yawning ballroom doors. Lirr was in their midst, pulling his people along in a wordless tide of magic. They left bodies behind, twisted corpses and bloody footprints. I saw one brigand slide through a pool of scarlet, laughing like a child on the ice, and flounce after her companions.

I picked myself up, found my balance, and charged after them.

THIRTY-TWO

Shelter

MARY

Demery led me through the shrieking guests and into a curtained alcove. The inebriated Grant carried on a few steps then hastened back to us, gritting his teeth and blinking to clear his head.

“Change of strategy,” Demery said, untangling the gold-braided rope that held the curtain back. It opened with a heavy, ripplingwhump, leaving us with only a slice of light from the hallway. “Mary, stay here. Mr. Grant? You’re with me.”

“Stay here?” I protested. I leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of Demery’s expression as he glanced back into the hallway. The golden rope that had held the curtain dangled at his side, fastened to a heavy bronze ring. “I’m not staying here, not with Lirr so close. You said he wouldn’t even dock in Hesten!”

“I was wrong,” Demery snapped. “Or near enough. He must have anchored outside the city walls.”

“To the north,” Grant started to say with a drunken slur, but the rest of his words were lost in a renewed fit of shrieking from the hallway. He cringed and shoved deeper into the alcove, managing to elbow me in the chest and tread on my foot at the same time.

“Sorry, so sorry,” he muttered, straightening directly between Demery and me. He stank of pipe smoke and wine. “Damn, Iamdrunk.”

Demery shot Grant a hard look, particularly piercing from so close, and the young man froze. “To the north? How would you know that?”

Grant appeared to battle his slow wits. “There’s a smuggler’s anchorage,” he fumbled, then degraded into a nervous giggle as he added, “It may surprise you, good sir, but I have friends in remarkably low places.”

My already hammering heart increased tenfold. If Grant was right, if Lirrwasanchored just north of thecity…

I knew where my mother was. We could rescue her, tonight.

Demery’s gaze was sharp as he looked at Charles, but he pushed his questions aside. “Well, if you want to stay aboard my ship you’ll come with me now. Mary, do not leave this alcove. I’m going to murder Lirr tonight, but if my bait is running free, that will be a lot harder. We’ll be just down the corridor.”

With that, Demery edged outside, cutlass in hand.

“Bait!” I spluttered in panic and indignation. “I’m not sitting here while Lirr comes for me! If my mother’s just outside thecity—youpromised to rescue her, Demery. Captain!”

Demery’s gaze swept back to me with the intensity of an owl. He rammed his cutlass back into its scabbard, grabbed the rope that had held back the curtain with one hand and my wrists with the other.

“We’ll find her when Lirr’s dead,” the pirate said.

The chaos of the palace swallowed my scream. I struck out, but Grant was in the way and the alcove was a shadowed mess of limbs. I managed to free one hand and punch the captain’s face before he barreled me into the wall and pinned me there, crushing the air from my lungs and filling my face with the scent of wool and salt, pipe smoke and gunpowder.

Next thing I knew, my wrists were bound to the ring in the wall. Demery pulled Grant outside, wincing at the blow I’d given him, and the curtain closed.

“Charles!” I bellowed, craning after them. “Charles Grant, you bastard, come back right now! Charles! Demery!”

All at once, the hallway quietened. The last frantic slap of running feet faded away. The last scream echoed into silence. I was alone with the candles flickering in their sconces, and the curtain, which was doing its best to smother me.