Leading Aegis: Chapter 4 (Patreon)

Carolina threw back the rest of her ale and slammed the empty tankard on the bar top. Berkeley was struggling to finish his own, so she set her finger under his tankard and tipped it up to help him, but it made ale spill out the sides and down his chin, which made him laugh, which only made more spill until he had to stop drinking or he’d choke.

“Damn you,” he laughed, setting his almost empty tankard on the counter and wiping his face with his other arm. “I could’ve done it if not for your helping.”

She patted him consolingly on the back and gestured to the barkeep for two more. They’d been on Harcam for a week, and this was the first night they’d been able to leave Nadine’s side. The doctors had done a wonderful job, but Nadine had been exhausted and in severe pain, and needed them around to help her with anything and everything. They tended to her willingly, and still wouldn’t have left if not for her insisting that they have some fun before they resent her neediness so much that they strangled her in her sleep. So, there they were, standing at a tavern bar and each two tankards in, enjoying the night out more than they thought they would.

“Alright,” Berkeley said, holding his tankard in one hand as he turned to lean back with his elbows propped on the bar. “Who are we chatting up to get some free drinks?”

Carolina turned to imitate his relaxed stance as she scanned the rest of the tavern. It was a usual crowd — merchants, soldiers, local business owners, and the one or two indentured with an unfortunate addiction. None of them looked like potential targets for a hustle, especially when they were on a Sovereign island and supposed to be keeping a low profile, but Carolina’s eyes made another pass anyway.

“That’s her,” she spat, all but freezing in place except for the slapping of her hand against Berkeley’s shoulder. There, at the back of the tavern, almost hidden behind the crowds, was the girl from the clinic. She was sitting at a table with several other people in matching uniforms, and perhaps she felt that she was being looked at, because she glanced up at that moment and looked directly at Carolina.

“Where?” Berkeley asked, leaning in front of Carolina’s face and briefly cutting off her eye contact.

She shoved his head aside, and she knew that she had a dumbfounded stare and that her mouth was probably hanging open, but she couldn’t help it. Devina was laughing when they locked eyes again, but she also wiggled her fingers in an encouraging greeting, and Carolina couldn’t help but grin as she lifted her hand to wave back.

Berkeley followed the gesture, finally discovering where Devina was sitting. “The Phoenix?” he hissed, grabbing Carolina’s shoulder and swinging her back around to face the bar. “You mean the war witch sitting at a table full of other war witches? Have you lost your damn mind?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” she said absently, craning her chin back over her shoulder to find Devina again.

“NO.”

The rest of her body followed, so that she had her back to the bar. “I thought I did,” she murmured. “I’m going to say hello.”

“Carolina,” he protested as she took a step forward. “Carolina.”

She ignored him, leaving him behind as she crossed the tavern and made her way to the table, Devina’s eyes following her the whole way. When she reached it, she stopped and smiled around at the rest of the witches politely before turning that smile on Devina.

“Nurse,” she greeted.

Devina’s eyes sparkled playfully. “Merchant.”

“Are you alright this evening?”

“Very well,” Devina said. “And you? Oh! How is your friend?”

“Recovering,” Carolina answered. “Tonight’s the first night we’ve been able to leave her alone, but she’s almost through the worst of it, I think.”

“That’s great,” Devina said. “I expect she’ll make a full recovery in no time, then.”

Carolina nodded, and since she’d run through the formalities, she wasn’t sure what to say. The other witches had stopped their conversation to watch, and Carolina was hesitant to continue in case any of them were as intuitive as Devina, and started to think maybe Berkeley’s caution was wise.

“Is that your other friend from the clinic?” Devina asked, leaning to glance toward Berkeley.

“Yes.” She took the prompt, and asked, “I was wondering if you might join us for a drink?”

Devina smiled and stood, stepping around the table to hook her arm through Carolina’s. “I’d love to.”

And Carolina did her best not to blush or grin too much as she led the way back to the bar. “Berkeley, this is Devina.”

The backs of his shoulders rose with a deep inhale, and when he turned it was with a forced smile and a tankard in his hand. “Nice to meet y-” But he turned so fast that ale splashed down the front of his shirt and trousers. “Shit,” he groaned, glancing down his front, “aw, damn, it looks like I pissed myself.” Devina snorted. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, “I’m going back to the, uh-” He stopped and looked suspiciously at her. “The place we’re staying.”

“You coming back after?” Carolina asked.

“No, I got, hm,” he hesitated, “merchant stuff to do,” and he barely glanced back at them as he made his escape from the tavern.

“He doesn’t know that I know?” Devina asked.

“I think he’d actually piss himself,” Carolina answered, and Devina laughed. She grabbed the two fresh tankards that Berkeley hadn’t touched and handed one to Devina. “Can I ask you something?” she asked, and when Devina nodded, she motioned for her to follow as she headed toward the stairs. “Do the others know? And how did you know? Am I not being careful enough?”

“They don’t know,” Devina said as they climbed the stairs, “and they won’t find out from me, I promise you that.” They reached the tavern’s secluded balcony and sat across from each other at a small round table, where the music from downstairs was faint and they could hear each other easily. “I think me realizing you’re a pirate had less to do with my intelligence and more to do with your emotional state at the clinic.”

“I suppose it helps that you’re especially disarming,” Carolina admitted, and Devina smiled and gave a shy flick of her wrist. “I mean that sincerely,” she told her. “You were an unexpected comfort to me that day, and I’ve been hoping for a chance to say thank you.”

Devina’s smile softened. “You’re welcome,” she said. “And your friend really is recovering as expected? What’s her name? I’m quite familiar with the doctors at the clinic, so if she needs anything else, I’ll make sure she has it.”

“Nadine. And if you can’t provide her with a tranquil spirit, then there’s nothing she needs. I expect her to be losing her mind with boredom in a few days.”

Devina laughed, “Unfortunately there’s not a magic for that. There are sedatives though. You could sneak some into her tea.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Carolina joked, and they both chuckled about it. “Really, though, recovery will be slow, but she’s doing well.”

“Good,” Devina said. “And how are you planning to fill your days while you’re here?”

Carolina let out a heavy sigh and shrugged. “Unless you know anyone who hires without a contract, I haven’t got a clue. I might have to start planning an elaborate con or I’ll lose my mind soon too.”

“Another restless spirit, I take it?” Devina asked amusedly, and Carolina nodded. “I wish I could help but, to be honest, though I’ve been here three years, the clinic is the only place apart from the sanctuary that I’ve gotten to know anyone.”

“Do you work there?” Carolina asked. “When you’re not training? That is why you’re here, right? At the sanctuary?”

“It is,” Devina confirmed. “But no. Sovereign will only supply me with a week’s dose of my medicine at a time, so I’m in the clinic frequently.”

Her brow furrowed with concern. “Are you ill?”

“No, uh…” She paused to take a few gulps from her tankard. “Much to my father’s disappointment, I, um, am not the son he thought I was.”

“Oh,” Carolina said in realization. “Oh, I… I apologize, Devina, if you weren’t ready to share that with me. I shouldn’t have pried.”

“It’s alright,” Devina told her, and gave a small laugh. “You hardly pressed, and apparently I didn’t need to be nervous about sharing it.”

Carolina shook her head in agreement. “It’s common among pirates.”

“Is it?”

She hummed an affirmative. “Sovereign tries to use access to the medicine as enticement to join ranks, so for a lot of people who were already considering piracy, it tips the scales. Is that why you joined?”

“No, I- ” Devina paused as she squinted at Carolina. “We don’t… get a choice, Carolina…”

“You’re drafted?” she asked, and Devina nodded. “I didn’t know that.” She pursed her lips for a thoughtful moment, and she supposed it made sense that Sovereign wanted to control everyone with magic before they could be hired by pirates. A lot of crews didhave Alters, however, without Sovereign, most were poorly trained. “If that’s the case, then, why stay?”

Devina glanced around nervously even though they were the only ones on the balcony, and at confirming they were alone, relaxed again. “I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully, and shrugged after another brief pause. “I never really thought about leaving. Too many reasons to stay.”

“Like what?”

“Like making my father proud,” she said. “All he ever wanted was a son to share his passion for naval warfare with, and because of my gender and my magic, I couldn’t be who he wanted. Or because I need to learn to control my magic and Sovereign is teaching me. Or because, if I ever did leave, they’d never stop hunting me. Given my father’s title, that would mean never seeing them again.”

“Is your father proud?” Carolina asked.

“I think so…” Devina answered, and she considered it for a few moments before letting out a sigh. “As much as he can be at the moment, anyway. I was ten when I presented for magic, and he came to terms with the fact that I’d never be a strategist or a commander. I imagine he’ll eventually come to terms with my identity too.”

“Did you only tell him recently?”

Devina nodded. “Only a few months ago. My mother took it much better, but I’ve been nervous about writing them again since, so I don’t know if anything’s changed.” She paused and then let out a dry laugh. “They don’t even know my name.”

Carolina’s brow furrowed deeply. “You didn’t tell them with your first letter?”

“I hadn’t chosen one yet,” she answered, and at the confused look on Carolina’s face, explained, “I was too nervous about telling them to decide on one, and Sovereign wouldn’t give me time. They picked for me.”

“What?” Carolina said, sitting straighter in her seat. “That’s not fair. Will they let you change it?” Devina shrugged, but the look on her face said ‘no.’ “Tell you what, when you decide on one, I’ll call you it. And Berkeley will too.”

“Thank you, Carolina,” she said with a smile, and Carolina nodded. “Well, now that you’ve learned my life story in ten minutes, let’s hear it from you.”

Carolina laughed, “That was hardly a complete story.”

“All things in time,” she said. “Come on, then. How old were you when you became a pirate?”

“Sixteen,” Carolina answered. “I left home and stowed away on a merchant ship to an island where I met Nadine, and I’ve trained at her side ever since.”

“It sounds like you have great respect for her.”

Carolina nodded. “She taught me everything I know.”

“Do you have family somewhere?”

“A mother and sister.”

“Don’t you miss them?” Devina asked, and Carolina gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded again. “Why did you leave home? Why did you leave them?”

She sighed, leaning back in her seat and reaching forward to busy herself with picking at the handle of her tankard. “How familiar are you with indentured life?”

Devina winced. “I’m ashamed to admit that I’m not at all.”

“Born rich,” she mused teasingly, “how embarrassing.” Devina chuckled, but she continued to explain, “It takes a decade to pay off your debt, and almost all of your wages go to your employer to pay it off, so you aren’t able to save much more than that. Maybe you have kids, and no money, no food, nowhere to stay. So, what do you do when you earn your freedom? You go back to an employer, and for table scraps and a shack with enough pillows if you’re lucky, you take another ten-year contract and start the cycle over.”

“Why not save for twice as long, so there’s money left once your debt is paid?” Devina asked.

“Because the contract ends as soon as the debt’s paid,” Carolina said with her upper lip curled, “and employers don’t hire people who won’t take a contract. Why would they pay a fair wage to a free person when they can offer loans for indenture and pay a fraction of a dominion after they’ve taken their share?” She resisted the urge to spit with disgust and shook her head. “I was sixteen when my mother paid off our debts. I knew we’d have to go back, but since I was of age, employers could finally add a working debt for me too. I couldn’t watch her do it again, and I wouldn’t let it be me. Not ever.”

“I suppose your mother never considered piracy?” Devina asked.

“No,” Carolina laughed. “And Rue was too young even if my mother did want to.”

“Well, you write to them at least,” Devina said, “right?”

Carolina gave a sad smile. “I have a few times, but…” She shrugged. “I suppose my mother hasn’t forgiven me yet. She’s yet to write back.”

“I’m sorry,” Devina said as her eyes fell, and Carolina gave a pursed-lip smile. After a few quiet seconds, Devina looked up again and asked, “What about your father? Is he alive?”

She shrugged again, and at the confused look on Devina’s face, explained, “His debt was sold when I was four. His new employer wouldn’t buy mine and my mother’s, and he lived on a different island. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Wha- I- Wait. I don’t understand,” Devina sputtered, “gone, just like that?” Carolina nodded, and Devina leaned forward and set a closed fist on the table. “But you can’t sell people. You can’t force them away from their homes and their families. People aren’t property.”

“But they’re not selling people, are they?” Carolina asked rhetorically. “They’re selling debts, and noncompliance is met with fines that indentured can’t pay, and when you can’t pay those fines, there’s imprisonment. Have you ever seen the prisons that indentured get sent to? It’s a death sentence.” She watched Devina’s jaw clench as she stared at the table with narrowed eyes. “You’re angry,” she observed, “but it happens all the time, and I’ve never met a pirate who hasn’t seen it happen or experienced it themselves.”

“That’s bullshit,” Devina muttered under her breath.

Carolina hummed her agreement, and took a drink of ale before saying, “It is, but I’ve never felt freer than when I’m in the sky. And I’m saving up everything I earn so I can free my mother and sister, and buy them a little house on a pirate island. Or maybe a tavern… My mother can make the best stew you’ve had in your life out of damn near anything.”

Devina inhaled deeply, and when she exhaled, her anger appeared gone. “She sounds wonderful,” she said, and Carolina nodded. “How old is your sister?”

“She’s seven years younger than me, so she’ll be…” Carolina counted in her head. “Almost thirteen, now.”

“You said your father left when you were four?”

Carolina nodded, and realized a moment later what Devina was asking. “Half-sister by blood.”

“Was her father’s story similar to yours?”

“No, she um,” Carolina gave an awkward smile, “she never knew her father.” And Devina’s lips pursed sympathetically as she stayed quiet to listen. “The first time my mother paid off her debts, I was six. We were only on the streets for three days before she gave in and signed a new contract, but being on the streets even that long… I got sick.” Carolina paused, and Devina’s eyebrows lifted with an already dawning realization of what had happened. “I was young, all I knew then was that she went out one night and came home with medicine, and nine months later, we had Rue.”

“She did what she had to,” Devina said softly, and Carolina hummed her agreement. “How long do you think it’ll take you to save up enough for them?”

“I’m not sure,” Carolina answered. “Being here will add to the time, but I owe Nadine as long as it’ll take for her to recover.”

“Then I hope for her quick recovery,” Devina said, and Carolina smiled gratefully. She sat back again and stared at the table for a few moments before saying, “I can see why so many pirates hate us.”

“Who’s us?” Carolina asked.

“Us,” Devina repeated. “Alters, Summoners, Casters.” She shrugged. “You know, Sovereign. Soldiers.”

“Sovereign and soldiers aren’t the same,” Carolina told her, and she tilted her head. “A lot of soldiers are just indentured who thought Sovereign would give them freedom. If you ask me, most pirates don’t care enough about soldiers to hate them, and it’s only in a fight that that indifference looks like hate. And you,” she gestured toward Devina, “I believe you’re mistaking a fear of witches as hate.”

Devina’s eyes looked her over for several long seconds, and then she asked, “Do you fear me?”

“The only fear I have in life is that my freedom will be taken from me,” Carolina answered. “And you promised not to turn us in.”

“I meant it.”

“I believe you,” she said, and then asked, “What’s a Caster?”

“You’ve never heard of Casters?” Devina asked. She shook her head. “Right… um, well, I suppose the easiest way to explain it is that all our magic is about energy. Alters can manipulate it, giving them control over the element they choose to train.”

“Right,” Carolina agreed.

“Summoners can channel it,” Devina explained. “So, while they could control an element like Alters can, they don’t train in it. They rely more on the entities they summon with their own energy, or they can heal a person with theirs.”

“And Casters?” Carolina asked.

“Casters can-” She paused and shook her head. “Well, I suppose magic is a lot easier for us. Altering and summoning come naturally, and we can’t create energy, necessarily, but we can use our own energy to inflict our will onto other things. Like spells, or certain potions that require more than just herbs and minerals. Casters change energy into something different.”

“You said ‘we,’” Carolina pointed out, and it looked like Devina inhaled to counter that, but decided not to. Instead, she just offered a pursed-lip smile. “How come I’ve never heard of you?”

“We’re rare, I suppose,” Devina answered. “And it wouldn’t be usual for a pirate crew to encounter one.”

“What do Casters do?” she asked. “What are you training for?”

“Well, when a Caster presents and comes to the sanctuary, they train for whatever Sovereign needs at the time,” Devina said. “The Fortuna is young, it’ll be a long time before she needs to be replaced. And Sovereign has a master potion maker.”

Carolina hummed, and though Devina seemed to hope that’d be the end of her curiosity, she waited patiently for an answer to the second part of her question. Eventually, she had to prompt, “And you?”

Devina smiled, though her focus dropped to the table and her face fell just as quickly. “The emperor wants another Caster who… can shift political powers.”

Carolina’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand what that means.”

Devina hesitated for several long, sober seconds before she drew in a breath to say something else. But, before she could get it out, one of the other witches appeared at the stairs from the tavern down below. “Devina,” he called, “curfew.”

“I’ll be down in just a minute,” Devina told him. He disappeared down the stairs, and Devina turned her gaze on Carolina, staring for several more moments before saying, “I can’t believe it’s time already. I wish I could stay.”

“Will you meet me here again?” Carolina asked. “Perhaps we’ll stick to lighter subjects next time.”

“I’d like that,” Devina smiled. “Not tomorrow, but the night after?” When Carolina nodded, she stood and crossed the table, stopping beside where Carolina was still sitting and extending her hand. “It’s Parker, by the way. Devina Parker.”

“Carolina Trace,” she replied, and though Devina had offered her hand for a shake, Carolina brought it to her lips and pressed a parting kiss to the back. “Till next time, Miss Parker.”

……..

Carolina stepped through the door of Setting Sun and stopped, Berkeley and Rue coming in right behind her while Ribbon was perched lightly on her shoulder. They’d arrived at a secluded port on Clerwood the day before and, while she’d stayed on the ship, Berkeley and Rue had gone into Breezeport to scout where Setting Sun was. It was one of the largest taverns she’d ever been in, with a bar on either side, crowded seating in the middle, and musicians in the back surrounded by people dancing. They were there to try and locate Henry Marsh, but she had no idea what he looked like, and there were far too many people to begin asking patrons. The only hope she could see was asking one of the bartenders, who might know him by name if he frequented the place as often as Ariane believed.

She moved away from the door, navigating through tables and patrons toward the bar, until she stepped up to it and waved for the man behind it. He nodded that he saw her, finished serving the drink he was holding, and then came over.

“Evening,” he greeted loudly over the music.

“Hello,” Carolina said, leaning halfway over the bar top to hear him better. “I’m looking for someone named Henry Marsh, do you know him?”

“Who?” he asked, and turned his ear toward her.

“Henry Marsh.”

He heard her that time, because he looked past them and scanned the tavern. After a handful of seconds, he looked back at her and said, “Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him since last night.”

“And he’s usually here by now?” Carolina asked. He nodded. “Do you know where we might find him?”

The man shook his head, but pointed to a table near the middle of the tavern. “He usually sits there, with the fellow in the brown cloak. He might know.”

“Thank you.”

Carolina told Berkeley and Rue to wait there at the bar for her, and then waded through the crowd again to that center table. She pulled out a chair and sat down across from the man in the brown cloak, and stared at the back of his balding head while he watched the music and dancing, until he realized that he was no longer alone.

He turned around, his brow furrowed in confusion, and said, “Can I help you? I’m saving that seat for a friend.”

“Henry Marsh,” Carolina said knowingly. “I’m looking for him, and the barkeep said he’s usually here by now.”

He looked her up and down, studied Ribbon, and then scanned Carolina’s face as he considered that. “Why are you looking for him?”

“I need help with something,” she said, “and I was told to find him.”

“Told by who?”

“Someone named Ariane.”

“Ariane?” the man asked. His expression softened a little when Carolina nodded, and he held out his hand. “I’m John.”

Carolina shook with him, but on this Sovereign island, she didn’t trust him enough yet to reveal herself. “Nice to meet you, John. So, do you know where I can find Henry?”

John shrugged. “He was supposed to be here an hour ago. I was going to give him another hour before I went to his house to find him.”

“You know where he lives?” she asked. “Would it be alright if my companions and I escorted you there? The business I was hoping to meet him for is especially important.”

He followed her gesture toward Berkeley and Rue, and then looked back at her thoughtfully. “If Ariane sent you, then I know he’d want to meet you.” He finally gave her a nod. “Alright.”

He stood, and Carolina waved for Berkeley and Rue to join them as she followed him out of the tavern. He led them down the street, away from the main bustle of the port town where all the soldiers were and to a quieter part of Breezeport. The section was mostly rickety homes and indentured quarters with a few small, struggling businesses mixed in — not the kind of place she imagined a Sovereign archivist living.

“Are we close?” she asked. She’d been off the ship for almost an hour already, and the ache in her manacled wrist had already traveled up the bone of her forearm.

“Yes,” John answered, gesturing up the street, “it’s that one th-” He stopped short and left them behind, jogging the rest of the way with Carolina and the others running after him. He reached Henry’s house and stopped at the cracked door, and gave it a soft push as he called, “Henry?”

The inside was dark as John pushed the door farther open, the stale air from inside meeting their noses. She drew one of the daggers at her hip and put her hand on John’s shoulder, pulling him gently behind her.

“Wait here, John,” she told him.

She held her dagger in her right hand and stuck her head through the doorway, scanning left and right in the darkness for the sign of any lingering danger, and when she was certain there was no one immediately visible, she stepped in. The more her eyes adjusted, the more certain she was that nobody was there.

“What do you think?” she asked Ribbon, who was perched on the back of her shoulder and peeking over. The whippon gave an easy chirp in reply. “If you see any candles, will you light them please?”

Ribbon’s beak clicked as she shot a tiny flame at every candle, until the entirety of Henry’s small dwelling was illuminated in a warm glow. Berkeley and Rue had stepped up to her side to scan the house with her, but as light filled the place, John shoved past them.

“Henry!” he exclaimed, bursting into the room to search for his friend, dead or alive.

The room was in shambles, books thrown, tables overturned, papers scattered and turned to ash in the fireplace. But there was no Henry.

“Burglary?” Rue asked.

“I have to alert the authorities,” John said, rushing toward them.

Carolina grabbed the shoulder of his cloak before he could get past her and kicked her foot backward to shut the door. “Not yet.”

“My friend is missing! He could be dead!”

She stretched forward while keeping a grip on John’s shoulder, righting an overturned chair with her free hand and then guiding him to sit down. “We want you to find your friend,” she told him, “but I must implore you to wait.”

John looked at her, and then at the rest of the destroyed home. “Does this have anything to do with you?”

“I’m not sure,” she answered. “Can I trust you to sit tight while we investigate for a minute?”

He sighed, nodding while he slumped over and buried his face in his hands, and Carolina, Berkeley, and Rue fanned out in the small house to see what they could find.

Berkeley nudged a silver pitcher on the floor. “If it was a burglary, I imagine they’d have taken everything.”

“But they were looking for something,” Rue pointed out, gesturing to the emptied drawers and shelves.

“Or they wanted it to look that way,” Carolina said. “John, did Henry bring people into the archives often?” John shook his head, and Carolina wandered over to the hearth. “The fire’s cold… but Henry was seen at the bar last night.”

Rue was digging through drawers in the single dresser near the bed, and called, “Look! All his clothes are gone.”

“He’s alive?” John asked, shooting out of his chair and hurrying over to check the drawers for himself.

“Gone,” Carolina repeated thoughtfully. “Why would he have left?”

“It’s an awful coincidence,” Berkeley said as he reached her side.

“Or it’s not at all,” she replied.

Rue left John in the bedroom and came to stand at her other side, asking, “You think Ariane sent word ahead?”

She only considered that possibility for a moment. “No. I had no reason to believe she was being dishonest with me, and why would she mention him to me only to have him run?” She glanced around the small house before looking at Rue. “Who left the ship last night?”

“Only me and Berkeley…” Rue answered, scanning Carolina’s face. “That I know of.”

Berkeley inhaled a sharp breath as he realized why Carolina was asking. “Well, I didn’t do anything.”

“Surely you don’t think I did,” Rue said imploringly.

“No,” Carolina said, reaching up to stroke the side of Ribbon’s neck while she thought about it. “Of course not, you’re my sister. And Berkeley, I mean this in the best way, but you’re far too simple to have orchestrated something like this.”

Rue huffed with laughter, and he reached behind Carolina to punch her in the shoulder before saying, “I know what you really meant was, ‘because you’re my best friend and I trust you with my life.’”

Rue rubbed out her shoulder while she asked, “So you think someone snuck off the ship last night and what? Scared him away?”

“Anything is possible,” Carolina said, “but that’s only if this had anything to do with us, and right now, it changes nothing. John?” She turned around as John came out of the bedroom, still in his uniform brown cloak. “You’re an archivist, correct?” He nodded. “Before you alert the authorities, I need you to get us in.”

“What?” His eyes went wide. “No, I can’t- I don’t- sneaking people in was Henry’s thing. I don’t know what schedule he took, what paths.”

“I have faith you can do it,” she told him.

“I never go at night,” he protested. “I don’t know if there are guards, or how many, or where they’re posted.”

“We’ll take it slow,” she said. He inhaled to protest some more, so she unclipped the purse of coins on her belt and tossed it to him.

It hit the ground at his feet with a clatter, and his mouth snapped shut as he bent over to pick it up. He opened it, rifled around to see exactly how much there was, and then gave a heavy sigh. “Fine. But if we get arrested, it’s on you.”

“Fair enough,” she said.

He motioned for them to follow him out, and they returned to the street to start their trek to the archives.

“How’s your wrist?” Rue asked as she slowed them a few paces behind John and Berkeley.

Carolina tightened the fist of her right hand and then stretched her fingers. The dull ache had reached her shoulder, but she could still ignore it if she focused on other things. “It hurts, but I have time.”

“Are you sure you want to pursue this?” she asked quietly. “You don’t have a witch, and finding one you can trust will be even harder.”

“What other choice do I have? I’ve tried everything else I could think of.”

“Not everything,” she muttered, and at an inquisitive look from Carolina, added, “you could try to be happy with what you have.”

“I’m a prisoner on my own ship, Rue,” Carolina sighed, frustrated by the mere thought of accepting the rest of her life with the manacle. “My freedom was stolen from me.”

“But it’s not prison,” Rue implored. “And your ship is perfect. Your crew is perfect. And you have Berkeley. And me. Why isn’t that enough?”

“Because I’m a dog on a leash, and I get a jarring snap to the neck every time I get too comfortable. Do you understand?” She paused, and though Rue’s jaw had started working back and forth, she didn’t reply. “Of course not,” she mumbled, “how could you when you enjoy every opportunity this ship has to offer at the cost of myfreedom.”

Rue’s narrowed eyes turned on her. “A dog on a leash still has a home and a family,” she snapped. “And Ifound you after you abandoned us, remember? Not the other way around. So maybe you should appreciate where the rest of us come from before accusing us of privilege at your expense.”

The next sigh Carolina gave was softer as she said, “Rue, I didn’t mean-” But Rue didn’t wait for an apology, and stomped ahead to catch up with Berkeley and John. “Talk about putting my foot in my mouth, huh?” she whispered to Ribbon, who was wrapped around the back of her neck.

But how could she put into words why it was so hard to be grateful for what she had? Ever since Devina had cursed her, her friends and her space had been limited to a ship. She didn’t get to go to port and meet new people or explore new places without immense suffering. Her entire world had been standing still and stagnant for eight years. And it wasn’t just about the ship. It was… it was lonely. She was lonely. That’s what it was. Even with Berkeley and Rue and Ribbon, and any other crewmate that she considered a friend. Eight years was a long time to go without an intimate connection, without companionship, and her confinement meant that she couldn’t move on even if she’d wanted to.

After a minute of walking along by herself with those thoughts, Berkeley dropped back to join her, and they followed John the rest of the way in silence. Eventually, they reached a large building in the main section of Breezeport that stood apart from the others around it. It almost looked like a church, with its square shape, stone walls, and large wooden doors. There was some light coming from the two narrow windows on either side of the main entrance, but the outside of the building was dark. No guards, no patrols, and rarely a passerby.

“If we’d known it was this easy,” Carolina said to John as they all stopped down the street from the building, “we wouldn’t have involved you. Did you know there wouldn’t be guards?”

“I’ve only ever been here during the day,” John said, and pulled a heavy metal key out of his cloak pocket and held it up. “And you’d still need me to get you in. All the windows are too small for someone to fit through, and the doors are automatically locked from inside and out.” He tucked it back into his pocket and gestured to the side of the steps leading up to the entrance. “Hide in those bushes while I go inside and make sure it’s empty. Don’t move until I come back to get you.”

“Can we trust you, John?” Carolina asked.

“I believe you didn’t threaten or kill my friend,” he answered, “and I have nothing to gain by betraying you.”

“Then we’ll wait.”

He nodded and hurried ahead of them up the steps while they all crept into the bushes outside the building. He approached the door with his key in his hand, checked to make sure they were hidden, and extended his hand, but the locks clicked before he had a chance to stick it in. And as the door swung open and John stepped back to give it space, Carolina drew her dagger, prepared to do whatever she must so they wouldn’t be caught.

“John,” the man who came out of the building said in surprise.

“Omar,” John greeted, giving a nervous chuckle. “I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

Omar didn’t seem to notice his tension. “Didn’t you hear?” he asked. “Someone tried to kill King Izaak. I couldn’t wait to come and start archiving.”

“Oh, yes, I did hear,” John said, and Carolina tucked her dagger halfway back into its sheath. “Do they know who it was?”

“Probably one of the mining companies,” Omar answered, “though no one will ever be able to prove it. He’s in hiding now, and I’ve just sent a letter to our contact at the palace to let us know as soon as Emperor Anseau appoints an interim ruler.”

“Wouldn’t the emperor want to send protection for him?” John asked.

“Maybe if anyone knew where he was,” Omar shrugged. “But, if you ask me, it’s about time the Paramounts are governed by someone less… radical.” He paused and all John did was hum, so he said, “But never mind, what are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d come and do some updating.”

“You’re a saint,” Omar patted him on the shoulder as he stepped past him. “Just leave the documents at my table out, will you?”

“Of course.” John turned to watch him go. “Have a good night, Omar.” Once Omar was far enough away, he whispered toward the bushes, “I’ll be right back,” and disappeared into the building. It took a minute, but shortly after that the door cracked open again, and John stuck his head and arm out and waved for them to come. “Quickly.”

They darted up the steps and skittered past John, and then he secured the door behind them and led the way farther into the building. The inside was only one massive room, but it was covered wall to wall in books, with more shelves arranged neatly in aisles, and tables between them covered in more empty books and parchments.

“You know,” Carolina murmured to Rue, “if there was anything to make me grateful for what I have, it’d be the idea of spending my life in here.” And she feigned snoring for good measure.

Rue glared at her, managing to maintain that stern expression for only a moment before she laughed, “Piss off.”

Carolina grinned, and though Rue shoved her in the shoulder and wandered off a few paces to look at a shelf, she could be certain at least that Rue was no longer angry.

“What is it you’re looking for?” John asked.

Carolina ran her finger down the spine of a book on the end of a shelf. “I need to know everything I can about Ascension.”

“Asce-” John stopped short, staring at her for a second before letting out a huff of laughter. “These are archives, not a library.”

“I’ll decide for myself what’s fiction,” she replied. “Do you have anything or not?”

“Let me see,” he mumbled, and headed for the rear of the building.

Carolina brought Ribbon down off her neck and held the whippon toward the entrance. “Go and perch on a window, my little lookout.” And while Ribbon went to watch the door, Berkeley and Rue followed her to where John was scanning a shelf.

He pulled down a book that was entirely made up of pages with alphabetical words or subjects on the left and a number on the right. He set the open book on a table and ran his finger down the page, flipping to the next, and then the next, and the next as he went through the A’s muttering ‘ascension’ under his breath.

“Oh?” he said, finally stopping and tapping his finger. “It is here, but... ninety-seven is crossed out.”

“What does that mean?” Carolina asked.

“Ninety-seven and one-thirty-one.” He ambled away from the book and to another set of shelves along the wall, scanning the square scraps of fabric with numbers on them that had been sewed to the leather spines of all the books. “Ninety-seven was… Hm.”

“Why ‘hm?’” Berkeley asked, craning his neck over Carolina’s shoulder to look at the shelves.

“It’s not there,” Rue said.

John quickly searched the nearby books as if it had been misplaced, and when he didn’t find it, he hurried to the hundreds. “One-thirty-one,” he said to himself, almost pleadingly while he went up the row. “One-thirty-one. One-thirty-” He sighed and plucked a book off the shelf. “It’s here.”

He brought the book to a nearby table and flipped open the cover while Carolina and the others crowded around him. He located the page number for Ascension in the table of contents, turned to the page, and pointed to a tiny section that was hardly a paragraph.

“Ascension:” Carolina read aloud, “history suggests there’s a fountain or well that, when drunk from, provides a witch with access to unconditional energy for magic. In addition to that access, it amplifies power and gives additional magic and immunity to time. The only known witch to have ever gained access to the fountain was Vivienne Wright.” She paused and read it silently again. “Immunity to time… Ariane didn’t mention that.”

“Is that like being immortal?” Berkeley asked.

“Or ageless,” Rue said, “at the very least.”

“That’s it?” Carolina said, reaching past John to flip to the next page and then back again. “That’s all it says? That’s useless. Where is book ninety-seven?” There was no response even after several long seconds, so she prompted, “John?”

“I don’t know…” he mumbled.

“Books don’t just disappear,” she said. “Is there a book about Vivienne Wright?”

He left the table and went back to the book with the subjects and numbers, and flipped a large portion of pages at once to get closer to the W’s. Then he went a page at a time until he’d found it. “Ninety-seven.” He shook his head and glanced back toward the shelves. “It can’t be right, though,” he whispered. “Not whole books.”

“What do you mean by that?” Rue asked.

He just stared until Carolina said sternly, “John.”

He finally looked at her, and then down as he shook his head. “Alright… we’ve been given orders in the past to…” He hesitated until Carolina gave a prompting lift of her eyebrows. “To remove or rewrite sections from the archives.”

“Remove?” Berkeley repeated.

“Destroy,” John admitted with a wince.

Carolina’s eyes closed as she sighed heavily and said, “What was that about this not being a library?”

“I know,” he said, shoulders slumped.

“Who was in charge of editing history?”

“Henry was the senior archivist.”

“Henry?” Carolina said with a tiny smile. “The same Henry who might’ve been willing to share secret history with outsiders? Is there any chance, John, that he wouldn’t have destroyed things that he was supposed to?”

He stared at her for a few moments while he considered it, and then gave a noncommittal nod. “Knowing Henry, it’s possible.”

“If he kept it,” she said, “where would it be?”

“I suppose…” He paused and glanced around the archives. “Not here, and he never mentioned any other hiding places. Perhaps his house.”

“Then we go back.”

“Hello?” Rue said. “His house was ransacked. What if whoever did it already took what we’re after?”

“I have to be sure,” Carolina said. “And if he hid it well enough, maybe they didn’t find it.” She looked imploringly at John. “Will you take us back?”

“Yes,” he said readily.

He gathered the two books he’d taken from the shelves and returned them to their places, and then led them to the door. He unlocked it and poked his head out first, found that the coast was clear, motioned for them to go out before him, and then locked up and started leading the way back to Henry’s.

The pain in Carolina’s arm had progressed to a throbbing stab up to her elbow, which would soon follow to her shoulder, but she was determined, and did her best to ignore it as they paced along behind John. It wasn’t easy, especially in the dark of the dimly lit, quiet street where she had no distractions, and she was so desperate to find something that, as they rounded the corner of the street to Henry’s house, she almost didn’t notice the guards. But several of them were standing outside the house, and light was pouring out of his open door as more shadows moved within.

Carolina grabbed the hood of John’s cloak and pulled him backward, retreating behind the corner of the building so they were no longer in view of the guards.

“That’s not good,” Berkeley whispered.

“How did they find out?” Carolina hissed.

John peered around the corner and groaned. “That woman,” he said, and gave Carolina a moment to peek too. “Miss Ida. She fancies him and is always poking around.” His eyes widened as he turned to face her. “Henry didn’t have any family. I’m closest to kin, they’ll be going to my house to tell me he’s missing. I need to go.”

“Then you should,” Carolina agreed. “But will you meet us here again? The guards will clear out soon, and if you’re closest to kin they’ll give you responsibility over his house, right? Please, I’ll pay you another share of what you got today.”

John looked from her to around the corner and then back again, and thought about it for half a minute before saying, “I’ll meet you here at noon the day after tomorrow, that should give me time to sort out the affairs. But I’ll do it for free. I think it’s what Henry would’ve wanted.”

“Thank you, John,” Carolina said, holding out her hand.

He shook with her, said, “See you then,” and hurried off.

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