IT HAD BEEN the silence of my revenants that changed everything. Without their whispers in my head, I could finally hear the voice of my heart. And it wanted this. We spent all our time in the cabin, Grey leaving only to fetch us food. In addition to the books I got from Bunchen, Grey acquired a stack of maps of Miraband, and we charted the courses we would each take on our one day on the mainland. We created an oasis of ourselves, each morning filled with reading, just as we had done as students, each evening filled with each other. It felt like a moment stolen from time, an eternity cast among the waves.
Until the ship docked.
If I had not noticed the ship slowing, the sails lowering, or the gentling of the waves, I would have known we had reached Miraband by the excited yelling of the soldiers returning home from months on Lunar Island. It seemed as if they’d saved every bit of rum for the hour before docking, so raucous were their celebrations.
The Emperor’s cruiser would be departing Miraband early the next morning, giving Grey only one day to meet with the trade advisory council and me one day to track down the collector whose address I’d found in the copper crucible. We planned to spend the night aboard the ship together.
Before the ship had finished docking, Grey dropped a purse of gold coins into my hand. “What’s this?” I asked.
Instead of answering, Grey said, “This is a short trip for me. I’m returning with the ship so I can be back in Northface Harbor in time for the Emperor’s rally.”
When I looked again from the bag of money to Grey, he added, “I can’t help you, Nedra. I don’t know how. I don’t have any answers for your revenants. If you have to stay here . . .”
I could see it, then, the defeat and sorrow in Grey’s countenance. This was what he had meant by love hurting. He wanted me to stay with him—and give up necromancy—but if I couldn’t, he was letting me go.
And this, more than anything else he’d said or done, proved to me that his love was true.
“I’ll send a message if I decide to stay,” I said. “But otherwise, expect me back here. No matter what, I’m returning home as soon as I can.” My revenants needed me.
The ship finally moored. The soldiers clattered down the gangplank, all eager puppies ready to go home.
“Ready?” Grey asked.
I grabbed Bunchen’s copper crucible, which contained not only the relics of necromancy she’d given me, but also my personal belongings. Thanks to the alchemical lock, the large basin appeared empty; its contents would only be visible again if I made a key of my own blood. I’d lengthened the strap so that I could comfortably carry the vessel across my body.
A warm breeze blew my white hair over my face as I stepped onto the deck, the last to leave the ship. Miraband was far more southern than Lunar Island, which, even in summer, carried a cold bite on moonless nights. I wondered if this city ever saw snow.
Grey touched my arm, leading me toward the gangplank. Despite the warmth, I felt a chill, and turned to see the captain staring at me, his eyes squinted. Even though I’d spent the entirety of the past week cloistered in the cabin and out of his sight, his tense shoulders didn’t relax until Grey and I were off his ship.
The docks at Miraband were easily ten times the size of Blackdocks. Giant ships sliced through the center of the bay while smaller boats darted up and down the connecting estuary. A myriad of languages floated around us, mostly Allyrian, but I caught snatches of Doishan and Choixian, as well as some I didn’t recognize.
Grey was fascinated by the boats. “That’s an eastern clipper,” he said, pointing to one with red sails, “and that’s a modified carrack, probably from Siber. Oh, a cog!” He dragged me across the wooden dock, but I couldn’t care less about the ships. It was the people streaming around us that captured my attention. One whole crew—the one aboard the cog—had skin so pale I wondered how they didn’t burn under the sun. I’d never seen such different colors of hair either—golden brown, yellow, even copper. Lunar Island was a common waypoint on voyages across the Azure Sea, but these pale people must be from Enja, to the west, a part of the mainland that was recently conquered. They had no reason to cross our sea; they’d more likely travel west across the Pan Ocean, visiting the island nations on the other side of the world.
I stared in wonder at everyone around me on the docks. A woman selling rope could have been a cousin of mine, so similar were we in appearance, but she had heavy black tattoos all up and down her arms, over her chest, even a half dozen dots atop each eyebrow. A man wore a fine woman’s gown, his face painted with rouge, and he smiled when I returned his curtsy as we passed. I bumped into a tall woman with skin so dark it seemed to have blue undertones. She grinned at me and spoke something in a language I didn’t recognize. She shrugged when I just smiled helplessly back, as if to say, That’s the way of it here.
Gray darted up to a dumpling stall. “Let’s get the bean dumplings,” he said. “Father always talked about them.”
“Bean?” I asked, doubtful such dumplings could be anything other than disgusting. Beans belonged in soup, not mashed up as filling in pastry.
Grey ordered two for us, and the seller quickly plucked a pair of pale brown dumplings from a steam basket, dropping them in a bit of paper before handing them to us. They were so hot they almost burned my hand, but, following Grey’s move, I bit into mine.
The paste inside the dumpling was made of something grayish-red, and while it did have the consistency of beans, I was shocked that it was sweet. Not like honey or sugar, but almost like a small cake.
“I didn’t expect that,” I said, staring down at the dumpling in my hand as steam dissipated in the air. The outer wrapper was chewier and denser than bread from back home, and I liked it just as much as I did the filling.
“Miraband is great,” Grey said. He had a look about him like a child who’d gotten every sweet in the shop.
“Oryous is not pleased!” a voice rang out above the crowds. Several people rolled their eyes, and space cleared out near a man who stood on a crate at the end of the dock. “The gods envisioned us as free men, outside the tyranny of an emperor! The Emperor is not our god; we need not obey the laws he puts upon us!”
Grey frowned. I knew he heard the man, but he pretended not to, a trait I’d noticed most of the people from Northface Harbor shared. In the villages, no one could pass by without a greeting, but apparently in the cities, it was best to pretend you could be alone in the crowd. And the more disruptive someone was, the more studiously they were ignored. Grey’s pace quickened, heading to the street leading into the city.
I jogged to catch up with him, the copper crucible banging against my back. Three soldiers in red coats—part of the Emperor’s personal guard—marched toward the protestor. I turned around just as two of the soldiers dragged the man off his crate, cuffing him as he continued shouting. In moments, they were all gone, taken to a side street I couldn’t see, the crowd swallowing them up whole.
But the message was clear. Everyone in Miraband loved the Emperor, because anyone who didn’t was silenced.