Page 15

Wyatt dismounted Maple and strode through the doors of the only tavern still bustling with life. He’d already found the rest of his crew members that were scattered about various jobs around town. The last few were ones he’d tasked with spending time in the tavern’s bar to make sure things stayed civil while he collected everyone else. All three of them were sitting at a table near the back of the tavern, engaged in a gambling game of cards with a few civilians.

He walked back to the table, stopped behind one of his crew, and told them, “Finish this hand and then head back to port.”

“Sir?” one of them asked, turning to look at him. “Are we leaving?”

He didn’t want the civilians to think an affirmative meant Sovereign was pulling out, so he said, “I have a new assignment for you near the docks.”

“In that case,” one of his other soldiers said to the rest of the table, “I’m all in.”

Wyatt tuned out the others’ responses as a different woman across the room caught his eye. She’d just finished talking to a few people at one table and was heading to another, but the people at the table she’d just left leaned to whisper to each other while glancing over at him and his soldiers. He didn’t like that, especially because the people she was talking to next kept stealing glances at them too.

“Sorry lads,” Wyatt said, “game’s over. Get back to the docks. Now.”

The civilians groaned and complained, but his soldiers listened and stood up without protest, telling him they’d see him there and then leaving the tavern without another word. Wyatt, however, was still watching the woman. She was dressed normally, in an off-white dress and boots, with her blonde hair pulled up and a black nose ring in her left nostril, but all of the people she talked to seemed to know her, and responded with eager nods to whatever she said.

He'd just decided that he didn’t want to get involved in whatever she was up to when a man burst through the doors of the tavern and yelled, “There’s smoke coming from the mines!”

Wyatt rushed out the doors with everyone else and up the street to see past the buildings at what the man was talking about, and it was true. Even from miles away, a thick column of black smoke rose from the forest right where the mines were. Something big was happening. Something he didn’t want any part in, and he took a few steps sideways to start easing out of the center of the crowd.

But he wasn’t fast enough. People started yelling about rebellion and chasing Sovereign out of the mines, and right as he reached the edge of the crowd, one of the civilians from the card game turned and looked right at him.

The man looked up and down at his cerulean uniform, yelled, “He’s high ranking!” and grabbed him by the collar of his tunic before he could make his escape.

“Please, sir,” Wyatt said, pressing against the man’s wrists, “unhand me. I want no trouble.”

“Should never have come to Remigan then,” the man said, and let go with one fist to wind it back.

He sent his knuckles flying at Wyatt’s face, but Wyatt dodged his head out of the way and slammed his forearm down against the bend in the man’s elbow, breaking the vicelike hold on his shirt. But he kept his grip on the man’s wrist and twisted inward, ducking under the man’s arm and flinging him over his shoulder.

Wyatt staggered several steps away from the man as he landed in the dirt on his back, and he knew he only had seconds before the rest of the crowd would react. It wasn’t enough time to make it back to Maple, especially with several civilians between him and her, and the last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt.

So when someone in the crowd finally shouted to get him, Wyatt yelled for Maple to fly, and as she burst into the air to follow him from above, he turned and took off running.

He sprinted into the alley beside the tavern to start racing between buildings with the angry mob hot on his trail, and it wasn’t just about the fact that he didn’t want to fight any of them. It was about survival. They’d kill him if they caught up to him and he knew it, and so he ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He slid through a turn, grabbing the corner of a building with the tips of his fingers to help propel himself around it, only having about three seconds before the first civilian rounded the corner after him.

He sprinted through the next narrow alley, and was about to make another turn when someone in the mob threw something at him. A glass bottle hit him so hard in the bare shoulder that it shattered, embedding several shards in his flesh and almost making him fall. He stumbled, managing to catch himself with the wall and keep up most of his momentum so that they didn’t catch him, and as he darted past a stack of crates, he pulled them into the alley behind him.

It gained him several more yards as the mob floundered over it. He took the opportunity to make another turn, hoping he could lose them with just a couple more. He flew around the corner, and as he passed another alley on the opposite side, someone reached out of it and grabbed him to pull him in.

Before he could process the coat being thrown over his shoulders and a female voice saying, “Walk, act natural,” his body reacted to it obediently. He slowed to a walk as the woman put a hat on his head, and she pulled one sleeve of the coat over the backs of her shoulders while she put her arm around his waist to make it look like they were holding each other as they went.

And it worked. The thundering footsteps of the mob passed the entrance of the alley behind them, but if any of them noticed, none of them recognized him. He strode with her silently until there were no more sounds of the chase behind them, and then she let him go to test the doors of buildings attached to the alley until she found an open one.

“Get in,” she told him, waving her arm.

He listened, hurrying into the dim house that was lit only by the sunlight coming through the few un-boarded windows. The woman followed and latched the door shut behind them, and while he stood frozen except for his gasping for air, she laughed.

“Holy shit,” she chuckled, “they were going to tear you apart.”

And it all finally hit him. That his body was way too hot. That he was so out of breath he felt like he was suffocating. And ‘holy shit’ was right, they’d wanted to tear him limb from limb. He started pacing back and forth across the room, clenching his fist so tight to try and calm himself down that his nails dug into his palm. He’d been in battles before, and he’d been in life-or-death fights. But he’d never been so violently hated by people he wanted nothing but peace with.

“You alright?” the woman asked.

He let out a whined hum to acknowledge that he’d heard her, but he wasn’t ready to do anything else yet. He couldn’t process anything while he was so hot, and sweaty, and out of breath, and miserable. He was so damn hot. Sticky. His skin was sticky and that made him feel more like he was suffocating than being out of breath was and he wanted to scream because he didn’t know how else to make that feeling go away.

Then, without saying anything else, the woman reached out the next time he paced in front of her, hooking a single finger under the edge of the coat to slide it off his shoulders. The coat . That’s why he was hot and sticky and distraught. And the hat. In one quick motion he reached up and flung the hat off his head too, and then he could breathe, and his skin could breathe, and the air was cool and fresh and calming. He only made two more trips back and forth before he finally stopped, relaxing his fist as he inhaled a few deep, slow breaths.

“Thank you,” he said eventually as he exhaled, and finally turned to look at her for the first time.

She was in civilian clothes — a faded red shirt and black leather trousers and boots — though she had a pistol and a short sword belted around her hips. She had big brown eyes, curly brownish red hair, tanned light-brown skin, and maybe the softest smile Wyatt had ever seen as her full lips pulled to one side.

“No problem,” she said with that smile. And because they’d entered into the house’s kitchen, she looked around until she’d found a couple of ceramic cups and an empty pitcher. She pumped fresh water into the pitcher from the storage tank and then poured them both a drink.

As Wyatt took one from her and gulped down half the cup, he noticed that she was also sweaty. “Were you running from them too?”

She shook her head. “I saw them chasing you and was trying to get ahead to help you.”

“You saved my life,” he told her. “I’m Wyatt. Wyatt Kim.”

She looked at the rank on his chest and asked, “Admiral Kim… are you the Admiral Kim?”

“No,” he said, “ that Admiral Kim is my father.”

“That’s good,” she murmured into her cup.

“Why? ”

She finished taking a drink and lowered her cup to give him a small smile, and then gestured to his shoulder. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up first?”

He hesitated, unsure then if he could fully trust her, even if she did save his life. He still didn’t know who she was, or why she’d saved him.

When he didn’t answer, she set her water down and ambled out of the room with a quiet, “Stay put.” He did, and a couple minutes later she returned with a scavenged white shirt, a few clean cloths, and a jar of ointment. “I’m no doctor,” she told him, “but I’ll do what I can.” He didn’t react right away, still hesitant to turn his back to her while she was very clearly armed. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she said, and when he wasn’t convinced, she undid the top button of her shirt to push the garment off her shoulder. She revealed an iridescent insignia, cut through with a scar but unmistakably Sovereign.

“Why are you in civilian clothes?” he asked. “What company are you with?”

She pursed her lips and hummed, and answered, “You could say I’m on special assignment.”

“What are you doing on Remigan?”

“Uniform off and turn,” she instructed instead of answering his question, turning a kitchen chair toward him, “you’ll need to wear that white shirt to get out of here safely and I can see some glass in that wound.”

He decided, at the very least, to trust her not to hurt him, and took his sleeveless uniform shirt off and sat in the chair she’d pulled out for him.

“They almost cut your mark too,” she said, tapping the Sovereign insignia on his shoulder.

“Who cut yours?” he asked.

“Bounty hunters,” she answered right as she pulled the largest piece of glass out of his shoulder.

And he had to give it to her, his surprise dampened the pain of it. “ Who are you? ”

She huffed with laughter, mumbled to herself about needing tweezers before grabbing two kitchen knives to use instead, and then answered, “I’m Rue.”

He winced as she used the point of the knives to dig a smaller piece of glass out of his shoulder. “Rue…? ”

“Cortez, I guess,” she told him. He turned on the seat to narrow his eyes at her, which only made her laugh. “It was my mother’s.”

“Are you an assassin or something?” he asked. “Or a spy? Or are you actually a deserter who just decided to help me out?”

“If I was a deserter, Admiral Kim,” she said, pausing her work on his shoulder, “would you take me in?”

He considered it, but only for the sake of making it seem like he wasn’t ready to break any and every rule, especially since he was about to do everything he could not to engage in a battle with Remigan’s civilians. “If you hadn’t noticed by the angry mob, I’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

“Fair enough,” she laughed. She pulled the last tiny shard out of his shoulder and began to clean his wound with water and a cloth. “I do need you to do something for me, though, once you’re out of here. I need you to get a message to your father, or Commander Parker, or even the emperor, if you can.”

His brow furrowed. “I’m listening.”

She finished what she was doing with his shoulder, covered it with ointment, and stuck a clean rag to it. Then she inhaled deeply and sighed, and said, “I need you to tell them that Carolina Trace has a rogue Caster on her ship. She’s got every intention of having that Caster Ascend, and believe me when I tell you that if Carolina Trace sets her mind to something, she gets it.”

Wyatt was frozen for a few seconds before he turned to look at Rue. “How do you know this?”

“Because I’m part of Omen crew,” she answered, “and Carolina is my sister.”

He stood and paced away from the seat as his mind raced. He was surprised at the relation, confused about what Ascension was, worried about why it was so important the emperor knew about it, and excited to meet someone who actually knew a legendary pirate. “I have so many questions.”

“I can tell,” she said.

He ceased pacing and turned to face her, and her eyes were as bright as her smile as she stopped looking him up and down, holding out the white shirt and meeting his gaze. He pulled it on and looked down at her lips. “Um, what, why does Carolina want the Caster to Ascend? What is Ascending? ”

“She’s cursed,” Rue told him. “Only a witch with the power from Ascending can undo it.”

Wyatt’s head cocked. An Ascended witch could undo a curse… that was… that had application, and though his mind flooded with more questions, he stayed focused. “Why would you keep your sister from undoing her curse?”

Rue didn’t answer that right away. She licked her lips and then pursed them while she swallowed, and then let out a heavy breath. “That doesn’t matter,” she said. “What matters is that no one should Ascend. No one should have that kind of power.”

“What if I relay your message,” Wyatt asked, “and Anseau wants Simon Beecher to Ascend?”

“It won’t happen,” she answered.

“Why not?”

“Carolina wouldn’t let him take it. I just… I just want someone in pursuit.” She paused for only a moment and then gestured at him. “It should be you.”

“Why should it be me?” he asked.

“Because now I know you,” she said. “I can leave you instructions to keep you on our trail. Carolina will never let the emperor’s Caster Ascend, not when she wants it for herself. But if you’re after us, you might be able to keep her from getting to it too.”

“Why do you care so much about keeping anyone from Ascending?”

“Do you know about Glasoro?” Rue asked him.

He nodded and said, “Apparently it’s not as big a secret as Anseau thinks.”

“It was an Ascended witch who cursed him, and now at least one island will fall, and countless lives will be taken because of it. Like I said, no one should have that kind of power.”

That, at least, he could agree with. “So… are you loyal to Sovereign?”

“Make no mistake, Wyatt Kim,” she said, “I’m not doing this for Sovereign. And were my sister not so determined to break her curse, you and I might have been on opposite sides of Remigan’s fight.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have, but he mumbled, “Maybe not so opposite as you think.”

Her head cocked, and she stared so long and hard at him that he shifted on his feet and almost backtracked, but then she said, “Maybe you shouldn’t be the one to follow us.”

“Why not? ”

“I kind of like you,” she laughed, “and tracking Carolina Trace is a dangerous game.” He couldn’t keep his face from flushing red, and though she clearly noticed and grinned at him, she didn’t say anything about it. Instead, she said, “Don’t engage with Omen, alright? That’s not why I came to you and that’s not the plan, and you will lose crew if you try.”

“What do you want me to do then?” he asked.

“We’re sailing to Cotisall,” she answered, “to see the Fortuna at Grafport. Follow us there and find the largest inn in town. I’ll get a room and wait for you there.”

“How will I know which room?”

She finally picked her hat up off the ground and gestured with it, “I’ll stick a bit of the brim out under the door. I don’t know how long we’ll be there, so leave Remigan as quickly as you can.” He nodded. “If you don’t get there in time, go to the post and collect a letter for George Lilligut, collection number four, nine, one. I’ll tell you in it where we’re going next. If there’s nothing there, it’s because I didn’t have time. In that case, check with the harbormaster. Will you remember that?”

“Yes.”

“And seriously,” she said, “I mean this with my entire heart,” she paused and waited for him to nod before finishing, “stay out of that stupid uniform. The whole lot of you.”

He laughed and nodded again. “Got it.”

“Good.”

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, and she nodded. “Well, Sovereign is on Remigan to harvest it, along with eleven other islands, to keep Glasoro from falling.” Rue’s eyebrows shot up, and he wondered if he shouldn’t have revealed that to her. “I can’t help but wonder if, maybe, Simon Beecher should Ascend and break the curse. It would save a lot of lives… wouldn’t it?”

“No, it damn well wouldn’t,” she said. “No one is Ascending, and I swear to you, if you ever suggest Sovereign gets that kind of power again, I’ll end our correspondence, do you hear me?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I just…” He paused and took in a heavy breath. “I’m trying to understand you, and this situation, and to be dangerously honest with you, Rue, I don’t want to be responsible for all the people who get left behind here. I thought it might help. ”

“Look around you, Wyatt,” she said, her voice much softer than moments before. “Look at what Sovereign sent you here to do, and tell me that you think the people willing to do something like this deserve more power. Would you trust Anseau’s Caster with that?”

He gave the slightest shake of his head as he thought more about Beecher’s reputation. “No, I guess I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah,” she agreed.

“I’ll do what I can, then,” he told her. “Just know that once I give the emperor this information, he’ll likely want Beecher to Ascend.”

“Let me and Omen worry about that,” she said. “You just worry about keeping a proper distance between your crew and ours before I figure out what more we should do.” He nodded his understanding. “Right, then,” she said, putting her hat onto her head and slinging her jacket over one shoulder. “Be safe out there. I’ll see you in Cotisall.”

He lifted one hand to wave as she hurried out the door, mumbling, “Bye,” after her.

But once she was gone, he didn’t have time to waste. He needed to make sure Carter and all his crew got back to the ship safely, he needed to make sure that they focused on protecting the ship instead of getting involved in the rebellion, and he needed to send a letter to Commander Parker.

He poked his head out the door to make sure the alley was safe, and then crept along until he had a clear view of the sky to look for Maple. He almost couldn’t find her because her feathers blended so perfectly with a brown roof nearby, where she’d landed to rest and wait for him. He made sure there was no one close enough to attack before she’d reach him, and then let out a shrill whistle, and she dropped off the roof and swooped to the ground to land in front of him.

Once he’d climbed onto her back, they raced to the ship, where he dismounted and told her to return to the stables as Carter sprinted up to him.

“It started!” Carter said. “They’re fighting back.”

“I know,” Wyatt answered. “Come with me, quickly.” He picked up walking, Carter following close behind as he headed directly for his cabin. “Are all the soldiers back safely?”

“They all made it,” Carter said.

“Good.” He pushed open his door and threw it shut once Carter had entered. “I need to write a letter, and I need you to let me focus until I’m done. ”

Carter nodded and stood there silently while Wyatt dropped down at his desk and scribbled frantically at a piece of parchment. First, he supplied an update about Remigan, telling Commander Parker everything down to their suspicion about Major Ludo causing the explosion at the mines, and only sparing details about meeting with the rebels. He also tried to be careful about what information he put about Omen. He didn’t give Rue’s name, or say which island she wanted him to go to. But he wrote about Ascension, told Commander Parker that Carolina Trace had a Caster on her ship, and said that he already had contact with Omen crew who would keep him updated.

The moment he finished composing the letter, he folded it and sealed it, told Carter to stay put, and practically ran out of his cabin to find their messenger. He put the letter into the man’s hand and told him to take his fastest mount, and to return the very moment he had a response, even if that meant standing there while Commander Parker wrote it. He waited just long enough for the messenger to leave, and then told the rest of his crew to pull up the ramp and lock down the ship, as they were waiting to receive crucial new orders and none of them were to engage with anyone outside the crew unless it was to defend from an attack.

Then he rushed back into his cabin and locked the door behind him, turning to face Carter.

“Wyatt…” Carter drawled, “what’s going on?”

“I just met someone from Omen,” he answered.

Carter blinked at him for several seconds before asking, “ Omen . As in the pirate ship Omen?” Wyatt nodded and opened the liquor cabinet in his cabin, not even bothering with a glass and taking a swig directly from a bottle of whiskey. Carter held out his hand. “Give it here, I have a feeling I’m going to need it.” Wyatt handed him the bottle, and he swallowed two gulps and then wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

Wyatt told him everything, not sparing a single detail and then reaching for the bottle in his hand when he was done. Carter held out a finger and took a final swig of his own before passing it.

While Wyatt threw back another gulp, Carter said, “If you thought toeing the line between morality and obedience was risky here, Wyatt, do you have any idea what we’re in for now?”

“I know,” Wyatt said, shaking his head .

“We fight pirates for a living.” Carter threw up his hands and turned around, making a full circle before facing Wyatt again. He took the bottle out of Wyatt’s hands and lifted it to his lips, paused to let out a huff of laughter, and then gulped down more whiskey before setting the bottle on the desk. “If I told you I was getting tired of fighting pirates anyway, would you call me crazy?”

“No.”

“And are we agreeing, here and now, as best mates, that we’re setting out to do the right thing, even if it isn’t the Sovereign thing?”

Wyatt hesitated for a moment, took a hasty drink of whiskey, put the bottle back down, and then answered decidedly, “Yes.” Carter began to nod, but Wyatt said, “ But ,” and he stopped. “We need to be careful, Carter. We are toeing a line, and if we set foot beyond it, well then, I think there’s no going back. Sovereign will call us deserters.”

“So, we make the right thing and the Sovereign thing match up,” Carter said, and Wyatt gave half a shrug. “It’ll be easy,” he added with a grimacing smile. “So easy.”

“I have to tell you something else,” Wyatt said.

“What?” Carter asked.

“Peter’s my best mate.”

“Shut up,” Carter snorted with laughter and punched him on the shoulder. “You ass. Never mind about this whole thing, I’m telling your father what you’re up to.”

Wyatt laughed, “I’ll tell him it was your idea.”

Carter rolled his eyes and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, taking one final drink before walking back over to return it to the cabinet. “Let’s play cards. We’re waiting on a response from Commander Parker anyway, and I don’t want to think for another second about all of this.”

And that’s exactly what they did, until late into the night when Wyatt couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. Carter fell asleep slumped over in the desk chair, and Wyatt collapsed in his own bed only to wake early the next morning to insistent knocking on his door.

“Carter,” he hissed, throwing a pillow across the small room at him. “Wake up.”

Wyatt slid off his bed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes while he staggered to the door, but when he opened it and found the messenger on the other side, it woke him entirely.

“Your response from Commander Parker, Sir,” the messenger said, holding out the letter .

“Thank you.” Wyatt snatched it out of his hand and closed the door, hurrying to the desk where Carter was suddenly sitting straight in the seat.

“Well?” Carter asked while Wyatt unfolded the paper. “What’s it say?”

Wyatt read it over as quickly as he could. “He wants us to follow Omen…” He skimmed farther and then stopped, looking up at Carter. “Simon Beecher is joining bounty hunters to meet us here. They’re already on the way.”

“Bounty hunters?” Carter asked, his eyebrows furrowed. “I thought the point was to track Omen, not to arrest its crew.”

Wyatt glanced again at the parchment. “They’re not after Omen cr- Shit . They want the Caster. Alive.”

“That’s not good, is it?” Carter asked.

“Rue didn’t say anything about turning over the witch,” he answered, shaking his head as he groaned. “I don’t think that’s good at all.”

They didn’t get time to discuss that further, because a soldier burst through his cabin door yelling, “Sir! The civilians are taking the docks!”

He dropped the letter onto his desk and sprinted out the door and to the bulwark with Carter. Fighting on the island had continued throughout the night, and while he and Carter had been distracting themselves from their anxiety about their moral situation, the civilians had been fighting for their lives. They’d finally managed to beat the rest of the soldiers back to the docks, but it didn’t look like they had any intention of taking the ships, as there was one ship at the opposite end that was already on fire.

“They’re destroying the ships,” Carter murmured.

“Bohlt!” Wyatt shouted, whirling around to find the face of his helmsman in the crowd of soldiers. “Get us out of here!”

Bohlt immediately ran for the helm, shouting orders at the riggers while he went.

“Sir?” one of his other soldiers asked as he began to follow Bohlt. “Shouldn’t we stay and help?”

Wyatt stopped just long enough to shake his head and say, “We received new orders from Commander Parker this morning. Remigan is no longer our priority.”

The soldier nodded, and Wyatt hurried up to where Bohlt was taking control of getting them out of the slip. He didn’t say anything while they pulled out, and instead just stood there, watching the island burn in the morning light as the civilians took it back, and doing his best not to look like he admired them for it.

Once they were a safe distance from the docks, he instructed Bohlt to keep them in the sky near the island and then went down to brief his crew on their new assignment. He only gave them the essential information — that they were being joined by Simon Beecher and bounty hunters to track Omen with orders not to engage — and while they weren’t going out to fight with Omen, he could’ve sworn that some of his crew also looked relieved to be leaving Remigan. And so they’d wait, and then they’d follow the infamous pirate ship Omen to Cotisall.