7

Marcus

I’ve never seen Ash happier than when she came back from the bathing room, towel around her shoulders, hair and skin scrubbed clean. She seems lighter, like a weight’s been lifted. And that smile… I guess we’re all better for a wash, warm food, and a night’s sleep at Toretta’s Harbor Inn. If it weren’t for the hair-bristling argument we’ve been having since after midnight, the good feeling might have lasted.

But it hasn’t.

I know why we’re fighting. She thinks we have enough facts to go on and I…well, I’m going in circles. I must reach Aku before they close the gates for the final session of the year, but I can’t break Palrion law to do it—laws that I will someday have a hand in making and upholding…which won’t happen if I can’t reach Aku in time.

Ash keeps repeating the bosun’s mate’s promise that “no harm will come to any on this voyage.” Does she not hear the contradiction? Can it excuse the captain if children are tossed overboard on other voyages, even if they do it beyond our territory?

“What’s the alternative?” she asks.

“We ride over enemy lands.”

“Marcus, it’s incredibly dangerous and may take far too long.” She’s packing while we talk, being careful with her parchments and inks but shoving her clothes in roughly. She pulls the straps and buckles them tight, like at any moment, her possessions will escape. I can see the frustration in her rise, turning her cheeks pink.

The problem is, she’s right. No other choice presents itself. Samsen, Piper, and Belair weighed in last night—all three are willing to follow me either way. Back to Baiseen, the journey failed, or on to Aku aboard a suspicious ship. They’ve gone down to the stables to oil our blades and tack. Sea journeys are rough on equipment, and we want the gear protected—that is, if we board the ship at all. It all comes back to me. It’s my decision, and I still haven’t made it.

The Bone Thrower’s list of advice doesn’t help much, either, except the urge to go north.

“The Sea Eagle is our best bet—”

“Black sails, Ash.” I slam my empty mug on the table. “Don’t you see? It’s the principle of the thing. Human sacrifice. We’ve outlawed it in Palrio.” I take a deep breath and blast it out in a rush. “My own brother was sacrificed before that, remember?”

“I do.” Her eyes soften while holding my gaze.

“You can’t be so nonjudgmental that you condone it.” My face heats. Part of me suspects Ash is further along the path to An’awntia than any of us. Except she can’t be. She’s non-savant.

“The thought of children dying from the throw of the bones, just because they are different, makes me sick. You know that.”

“But?”

“The ancient texts—”

I hold up a hand. “The short version, please. It’s already near dawn.”

“It’s a complex issue, with different ways of viewing it.”

“What different ways?” Is she kidding? “A child is thrown into the sea. A garland follows. Done. Over. Atrocious!”

“And pulling the heart out of a man’s chest isn’t equally barbaric?” She gasps and her eyes flood with guilt after she says it, but it’s too late. The words are out.

My shoulders want to cave, but I don’t let them. “I won’t apologize for my father protecting our realm.”

“I’m sorry, Marcus. That wasn’t your doing. Neither practice is civilized, but—”

“No more buts. The sacrifices must be stamped out.” I’m not going to debate the Magistrate’s actions with her.

“Forcing people to stop something they believe in won’t take them further along the path. They must see it for themselves.”

“We could be waiting millennia.” I press my hands to my temples. I would sooner die than go home and admit defeat, and by land, we’d never make it to Aku in time—if we made it there at all. Piper’s right, and the Tangeen is, too; beyond our borders, even here in Toretta itself, enemies are plentiful. None of them would want to see me make it to Aku.

And to venture straight into Aturnia? My father would likely have my head on a pike solely for taking the risk. I can’t say I’d fault him. Who knows what the Aturnians might try to exact from Baiseen if they were to take me hostage.

De’ral rumbles, letting me know that won’t happen.

It’s odd, feeling him there, beneath my skin, a weight and heat in the center of my chest. He’s always been with me, I suppose, but now that my phantom has taken form—shared his name—he’s more present. More real. I’m not assuming our struggles are over or pretending to know what caused them in the first place, but it’s progress. And once we’re safe on Aku, with a warrior savant to teach me?

We have to get there first! De’ral blasts the thought into my mind, and for a moment, I’m dizzied. When I recover, Ash is still speaking.

“We could talk to the captain. Confirm Kaylin is right, that no one will be harmed.”

I bark a laugh. “Talk? With a captain of a black-sailed ship?”

“Mother of Gaveren, at least consider it. Change begins with communication.”

“Upholding the law brings faster results.” Damn it, it’s the reason for having them.

Ash lowers her eyes. “This is why war threatens the realms. People trying to force one another to do as they see fit. There’s no respect for their path.”

“Shouldn’t be, when their path is wrong.” Somewhere deep down, I know this isn’t right, but I spit it out anyway. And philosophically debating a practice is not the same as standing idly by and condoning it—

“We have to go!” Belair runs into the room, nearly bowling us over. “Armed guards are headed our way.”

“How do you know?” I dart to the window, but there’s nothing to see. De’ral surges under my skin.

“Samsen’s alter’s been keeping watch from above. They’ll be here in moments.”

Ash quickly grabs our gear.

“They’re knocking on doors along the way, questioning the early-rising marketeers. Everyone points to the inn.” Belair’s hands shake as he speaks.

“Could be someone else here?” I’m grasping for a different reason.

Ash hands me my pack. “Didn’t you notice? We’re the only guests.”

Seems Toretta really is full of spies, and the thought paralyzes me.

“We have to go, Marcus.” Ash grips my arm tightly. “The governor may be an honest man, but by the time we explain ourselves, the whole city will know you are here, the ship will have sailed, and any chance of riding out unseen will be gone.” She shoulders her pack and checks the room one last time.

“Curse it. You’re right.” I pull on my coat. “Where are the others?”

“Outside, horses and gear in hand.”

“Go.” I wave Belair ahead and take Ash’s hand as we run after him down the stairs.