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The reality of the roof was so much worse than she'd been expecting.
The view was actually beautiful, a long clear shot out to the nearby ocean with the crystalline blue sky stretching overhead. It was almost painfully picturesque. But then Ari looked down at the street multiple stories down and she had to grab onto Loren to keep from swooning. "This is a terrible idea."
Naiah's only response was a smirk. She led them to the far corner of the roof and stepped up onto the raised edge. Ari half expected her to tip over the side just to spite her. Thankfully she didn't. "Even you can make this jump, Ari. Come along." She gestured to the next building, a slightly shorter, fatter version of the one they were currently standing on top of. It was L shaped and the spot she'd indicated was piled with nets and what looked like disused canvas sailcloth in a makeshift cushion. "After you."
"No, really. I insist. You first." Ari was having a hard time making her feet move any closer to the edge even with Loren propelling her from behind
Naiah shrugged and over she went. She overshot the cushion which was probably her intention and rolled, popping back up and onto her feet in one smooth motion. Ari glared at her. "Show off," she muttered. She glanced back at Loren. "You couldn't just throw me over there, could you?" When he said nothing she sighed. "I figured as much. I really regret waking up today," she said as she forced her feet to the edge of the roof and jumped.
***
THE BEACH WHERE THEY'D been holding the Iron King swarmed with activity, fans of guards sweeping the sand presumably in search of clues. He'd been kept in a small cave not far from the harbor, the only structure sturdy enough and remote enough to suit their purposes. And now it was empty. The few castle mages that Cercing had left behind to carry out spellcraft in her absence were immediately obvious by their lack of discernible purpose. She would fix that.
Her soft shoes kicked up waves of damp sand that prickled her legs. If the Iron King was free he could be anywhere doing anything. She had very little but history books on which to gauge his next move. Her Master's on the other hand, his thoughts on this mishandling of affairs were very easy to predict. The next decade spent in the library tunnels looked more and more likely. Cercing didn't look forward to relating any of these events to him.
"What happened?" she called out as soon as she was within range of anyone who might answer her.
One of the guards, a tall man in slightly ill fitting armor turned at her question and scowled. He stood with a group of three others wearing similar expressions but it was one of them that finally answered. "We don't know. Perhaps you should ask your mages."
"I'm asking you."
"Well we have no answer for you," said the tall guard.
At her back, the square bodied and bearded guard spoke up. "Is that the proper show of respect from a castle guard? His Excellency's apprentice is in command in the Champion's absence. You're making a disgrace of yourself."
The guards made a stiff bow. "Excuse us, Vard," said one of the others but it was hard to tell if he meant it or not. Cercing didn't care anyway. She had better things to concern herself with.
"I ask again, what happened?" Cercing stared past them. It was hard to tell at a distance with everyone swarming the area, but it looked as though something had scooped out a pit where the cell had been earlier. The cave itself was unharmed but that was no surprise. Rock made the best fortification.
"He was well guarded, I assure you. We couldn't do anything. We couldn't stop him," said a different guard. She hadn't noticed him immediately, sitting in the sand with his head bowed. There was a faint trembling in the guard's voice. It made Cercing pause.
"He used magic?"
The guard nodded, eyes wide.
She drifted forward. Thin fog still covered the beach in shifting curtains but as she got closer to the cave she could see more clearly. What she saw made her heart thud hard in her chest. It wasn't just a pit in the sand. Something had turned the sand a deep grey and streaks of the dark color ran up the walls of the cave. "How could he do this?"
Inside the cave there was little to see, which was worse. One of the other mages stopped beside her, holding something out. Cercing didn't even have to look at it to know that it was part of the shackles that had held the Iron King. But not all. She frowned. Why would he remove part of his chains but not all?
Unless he couldn't.
Cercing had been prepared for the possibility that she might have to kill him. Her Master had given her a special spell for just such an eventuality though neither of them had been inclined to use it. The spell was just as dangerous to the caster as the victim but that wasn't what concerned her. She would do her duty no matter what it entailed. Lord Virgil had killed before, a reflection of the world in which he had come of age, but she had never needed to. She still couldn't quite imagine ending a life with her own hands. They spoke of it often as if it were simple. She was not sure it was.
The spell sat heavy on her heart.
She would have to find the Iron King and use it now unless the Champion could best him (doubtful.) And when she did, the King would be beyond saving. Ending not just one life but two then. She would have to reconcile herself to this and quickly.
***
"I SUSPECT YOU ARE BAD luck," Naiah said with a surprising amount of ease considering how fast they were running.
Ari contented herself with thinking nasty thoughts at her. She wasn't even entirely sure why they were running since it seemed like the men who had been following them had gotten lost at least twenty minutes back, but Naiah was in the lead and Ari was too out of breath to ask her.
"Where is this ship of yours?"
In response, Ari made a wheezy noise and tripped.Ari finally caught up enough to grab Naiah by the arm and pull her to a stop. "Walking," she panted. "We can walk for a while. You remember walking." Another cramp pulled at her stomach and Ari doubled over. That was definitely no stitch in her side. Her breath whistled through her gritted teeth as she sucked in air. "I don't have a fin somewhere embarrassing now, do I?" She patted her hands over herself, even lifting her cuffs to check her arms again, but her anxiety was ratcheted up as high as it would go. There were too many things happening and she couldn't worry about all of them at once so she settled for the easiest one.
"Are you unwell?" Naiah regarded her with arms folded.
"I told you. Just a little case of scales. Totally fine. Nothing to worry about." Ari let out another whine of air as she straightened. Her stomach felt like a rock. "This quest isn't going quite the way Virgil said it would."
"What a surprise."
Ari glanced around them on the street. Somehow it was almost sundown. The shadows growing out of doorways and alleys made the whole situation seem much more ominous than it had before. "The ship is in the harbor unless they found a way to make ships into land vessels and didn't tell me." Ari had to admit that in this of all places that was actually a possibility. "But first, detour. I need to pick up some things."
***
THE SHIP WAS EERILY silent when they climbed aboard. Ari didn't know much about ships, but she was pretty sure that someone was supposed to be on guard even when they were docked but their appearance had no effect on the silence wrapped around the vessel. Her grip tightened on Cheyna.
The sword had been none too pleased to see her when she finally got back to the hotel to retrieve it. It didn't say anything exactly, but she had the distinct feeling of disapproval when she buckled on the sword belt. It had a strange aftertaste, like bread that was about to go moldy.
"Where is everyone?" chimed in Loren with the obvious question.
Naiah's answer was a knife in each hand. Of course that was her answer to everything. Ari had missed her.
They crept over the creaking deck of the ship, Ari's eyes chasing every movement she saw until her head. She was not made for all this intrigue. "Is this a trap?" she whispered. "It feels like a trap."
At least someone had been kind enough to light some of the lanterns on the ship before they decided to lay in wait. It made sneaking around a lot easier when she didn't have to worry about tripping on the ubiquitous barrels and coils of rope and bodies lying face down on the scuffed planking. She stopped with a gasp. Loren and Naiah saw the body at the same time she did, but Naiah was fastest. She crouched to turn the person over.
His face wasn't immediately familiar, but the general appearance of deadness made it hard for Ari to look at him too long or too hard. Her eyes skipped over him, away and then back. Someone had slit his throat. The rush of blood had seeped into the front of his uniform but the color was still plain on the arms. Blue. One of Cylian's.
"There's another this way," Naiah said, already stalking off. This time she nudged the body with her toe before flipping them over. "Different uniform. Same slit throat."
"It can't be," Loren said.
"What? What can't be?" Ari peeked around his shoulder. Sure enough, the uniform this time wasn't blue. It was green and embroidered with little obnoxious flourishes. "That's one of Thiele's men."
"So it would seem. He must have been on duty with Grange when they were attacked."
"They did not struggle. Their attacker surprised them," said Naiah.
"But I thought Thiele was the weasel behind this mess," Ari said, retreating a step so Loren blocked the blood splotch on the deck. It was never going to be something she wanted to see.
"You were meant to," said another, faintly dry voice.
Ari drew Cheyna as she spun to face Cercing who stood in the doorway of the captain's cabin.