56

AS SOON AS WE’D EATEN A BLAND BREAKFAST OF PORRIDGE WITH dried fruit and weak tea, I cleared my throat. “I think I’ve figured out a… method to charm cast over larger quantities,” I said. I wasn’t sure how to explain it to anyone who couldn’t cast, but no one seemed particularly keen on asking as they congratulated me.

“You could put it in cloth being woven?” Alba asked eagerly.

Before I could reply, Kristos added, “And cannon? Shot? What about cursed bayonets?”

“Wait,” I said. “I’m not sure what effects curses would have.” Not to mention, I didn’t need to admit that I knew how to cast curses to a wider audience than already knew.

“Cannons with curses might be more accurate, might fire truer—”

“Or curses might cause the artillery pieces to blow up more frequently,” Sianh replied. “Would the curse be directed at the enemy or no?”

“I couldn’t say,” I said. “So I think it’s best if we work within the parameters of charm magic, for the time being.”

Alba smiled. “Regardless. This will be a secret weapon the Royalists can’t even imagine. You’ll return to Kvyset with me and from there, we will negotiate trade deals with Fenian businesses.”

“There’s one problem,” I said quietly.

Alba met my eyes. “What is that?”

“Casting is illegal in Fen. Anything resembling magic—even illusion like Serafan magicians employ,” I said. “Even card tricks.”

Alba heaved a breath. “Illegal, yes. But this kind of money will convince any smart foundry owner to ignore what you’re doing. If they even have reason to notice to begin with.”

“Why is it illegal?” Ballantine asked. “I confess, for all my knowledge of the currents and winds, to know little enough of Fenian taboos.”

“That’s hardly important information at the moment,” Alba said, sinking her forehead into her hands in a pantomime of weariness.

“It may be important,” Sianh said, “to understanding how we can get around it.”

“It is illegal because it simply… is,” Alba said. “The Fenians have very little sense of humor. Less than the Kvys. They’re the Kvys for whom Kvyset wasn’t humorless enough, remember?”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

Alba conceded. “I’m sorry, I assumed. Fen was colonized by Kvyset centuries ago. Before that, it was an island inhabited by… oh, seals, mostly. And terns. Bandyneck deer, I suppose. At any rate, there was a schism in the Kvys Church, and the outcasts scurried off to Fen. After they got there, some investors pulled their heads from their logbooks long enough to realize that the fishing and the logging out of a fresh country like Fen would make good money.”

“So Fen is a nation of religious zealots and businessmen?” Kristos shrugged. “Could be useful. To know a people, to get their aid, to see how they might be helpful.”

They’re not helpful people at all,” Alba replied. “The religious zealotry died away long ago, but it did leave quite a mark on their social norms regarding magic, marriage, music, general joy… don’t try to tell them dirty jokes, they don’t even understand them. But money, money they understand.” She took a breath. “Fair enough, it is helpful to know where they come from. Fen is a hard place, difficult to carve a living from. They have to be focused on their profits, or else they won’t eat.”

“I know the feeling,” I said quietly. “Very well. We find a Fenian mill and foundry who will take the alliance and turn a blind eye to anything unusual.”

A sudden increase in the flurry of sailors around us wrenched our attention away from future strategies toward the immediate. Ballantine ran past, spyglass in hand. He posted himself at the stern, searching the waves intently.

“She’s a frigate, no doubt, but is she Galatine?” He scrutinized through the glass further. “I can’t tell yet.”

“Does it matter?” Kristos appeared from the other side of the ship. “If she’s Galatine or Serafan, that is. We don’t want to be apprehended by either.”

“If she’s Serafan, she might not be after us. It might be coincidence.” Ballantine lowered the glass. “If she’s Galatine, there’s no reason for her to be here save belligerence.”

“Lovely,” Alba murmured, joining us. “Just when I had in mind we’d manage a bit of a lull before we all had to chin up and fight.”

“Never so lucky,” Theodor replied. “We should likely assume she’s foe and keep ahead of her, yes?”

“Of course,” his brother replied. He called orders to the mate, who deferred with a grumpy nod. “They didn’t sign on for this,” he added, to himself more than anything. We had reticent sailors and a captain who had only served under other officers, but I quelled the rising panic. We were far ahead of the frigate, and it might be only a Serafan navy vessel on regular maneuvers.

“You all right?” Theodor whispered to me. He slipped his hand in mine. I gripped tightly.

“As much as any of us,” I tried to joke. We waited, stiff and sweating under a mounting sun, to know if we were about to be sunk by one of our own ships.

Ballantine snapped his glass shut. “She’s Galatine.”