Five days after we left Skorsa, I awoke to frost on the edges of the ship and my breath puffing in front of my face. My teeth wouldn't stop chattering as I joined Kieran on the quarterdeck. He laughed and threw his arm around me.
"You'll probably want to buy some warmer clothes for the mountains," he said.
"How cold could it be?" I said, my voice shaking.
"And how far north have you been?"
"I've been as far north as the Kulkan border," I said, adjusting my sleeves down my arms.
Kieran snorted. "You'll want some new clothes."
Aymar grew steadily larger as we approached. It was nothing more than a collection of dark wood buildings on the side of the river, but the snow-capped mountains seemed impossibly close as Kieran's ship sidled up to the dock. Everything was different, even down to the scent in the air. Forcadel always smelled of fish and salt water, but here it was more…I couldn't even describe it. It wasn't home.
"So I suppose this is farewell for now, hm?" I asked Kieran as the two Kulkans put out the gangway. "You guys are continuing up the river?"
He nodded. "Hoping to get to our destination then back through Skorsa before all hell breaks loose. We've got a nice sum of money waiting if we can deliver to Forcadel within the next two months."
I didn't want to ask what he was smuggling; he probably wouldn't tell me anyway. "Any suggestions on how to get to Linden from here?"
"Aymar is the official port for the royal family—see that flag over there?" He pointed out a light blue flag fluttering on top of one of the houses near the docks. "That's their symbol. They say there's an underground road that'll take you under the mountain and reach the capital in a few days."
"That would be convenient," I said.
"They also say the road is for the royal family and shipments only," Kieran said. "Although perhaps if you drop some names, they might let you in. Or, I suppose, you could just pony up some gold."
"Can't really do that," I said, a nervous fluttering in my stomach at the thought of being on my own without any coin.
"Here," Kieran said, sliding a pouch across the wooden bannister. "Take this."
Coins—four gold ones. "Kieran, I can't take more of your money—"
"Consider it buying more favors in the future," he said, closing my fingers around the leather. "It's not much, but I don't think you want to be carrying too much gold. Buy yourself something warm. You'll need it in the mountains."
My eyes moistened as I stared at the bag. "Kieran… I don't know what to say."
"Pirate king is still on the table," he said, his breath puffing in front of him. "I might not be as upstanding as your captain, but we'd surely have more fun."
I laughed, casting a coy look at him. "I wouldn't be too sure about that."
"Be careful, Veil," he said, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. "Niemen isn't Forcadel."
I stood on the docks until Kieran's ship disappeared around the far bend of the river, then remained there until my hands turned blue from cold. Finally, I tore myself from the view, knowing that if I didn't find a pair of gloves soon, I'd lose my fingers. Dock workers—some even in short-sleeves and short-pants—worked and milled around, casting suspicious gazes at me. They were all pale-skinned and light-haired, although their skin seemed rough and leathery from the cold and sun.
As a gusty wind blew off the river and cut right through me, I decided I might be more useful if I was warm, so I ducked into a clothing shop. There was a roaring fire in the corner that defrosted my trembling fingers, and I exhaled as I walked toward it like a moth.
"You're not from around here, are you?" asked a young woman dressing a mannequin.
"How could you tell?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"Forcadel?" she asked, and I nodded. "You all arrive here the same. No cloak, no jacket. Thin boots that slip on the ice. Dressing rubes like you is how we make our business."
I narrowed my eyes, hearing the inflated prices in her words. "I don't have much, so I'm afraid I just need a jacket."
"Suit yourself," she said with a shrug. "But it's a nice summer day here, and it's much colder in Linden."
"You're just trying to make a sale."
"Girl's gotta eat."
I ran my fingers along a wool scarf. "How much does it cost for passage into Linden?"
"Depends," she replied, adjusting the scarf on the model. "I know a man who'll take you to the front gates of the royal castle for twenty gold coins. Make it thirty and no one will know you're there."
And I only had four in my pocket, so walking by foot would have to do. "I'll take a cloak, boots, and gloves."
One gold coin lighter, but a whole lot warmer, I walked through the city in search of a place to find information about the royal road and found what I thought to be a mess hall. I had a silver left, and I used it to purchase a bowl and a tankard—both of which I could refill at my leisure. I settled down at one of the long tables, spearing the potatoes with my fork and keeping my ears open. But the stew was bland and conversations nonexistent. So I'd have to spur some.
"Evening," I said to the man across the table from me.
He cast his gaze upward then back down at his food, muttering something under his breath.
"Is there any salt?" I asked.
He gazed at me once more then stood and walked to another open spot. I might've taken offense, except every other person was eating in silence. Twins three seats down from me were staring into their bowls, ignoring one another as if they were strangers.
It was the oddest thing I'd ever seen. As a whole, Forcadelians weren't the kind of people to close our doors. A little booze, a little smile, and most of us would spill our deepest, darkest secrets to a stranger on the street. Niemen, it seemed, was as closed off as Katarine had been the first time I'd met her.
And that wasn't the only difference. My features—which I'd considered pale from spending my days sleeping and nights on rooftops—were still much darker than anyone else's in the room. They had varying shades of blond hair, some even a vibrant red. A couple of mariners had a smattering of freckles on their face, but with my black hair and brown skin, I stuck out like a sore thumb.
After finishing my meal, I headed out into the frozen streets again, the warmth in my belly from the bland stew disappearing in the first cold wind. The sun was starting to set over the mountain ridges, and although I might find more information at night, I sure didn't want to be outside after dark.
My pace a bit brisker, I continued exploring the city, poking my head into taverns and mess halls alike. All of them—silent inside. It was as if the Niemenians didn't know the first thing about socialization.
"Excuse me," I said, walking up to a Niemenian guard stationed at one of the cross-streets.
He grunted and turned to me. "Whatdya want?"
"I'm looking for information on passage to Linden," I said, holding my cloak closer as a cool wind seeped through my clothing. "Can you help me?"
He rolled his eyes and marched away.
"Seriously?" I said. "Does no one in this city have any common decency?"
I heard a snicker behind me. A pair of young teenaged girls giggled together.
"What?" I snapped, crossing my arms.
"As if anyone would tell a seaweed like you anything. Why don't you go back to your own country?"
My jaw fell open as they walked away. Was that they called us up here? Seaweed? As insults went, it was a little laughable.
Apparently, I would have to bribe or beat information out of someone. I returned to the docks, where I'd seen a riverside tavern that appeared to be somewhat livelier than the rest of the city. Inside, the fires roared and several Forcadelian sailors sat around a large table, their bellowing laughs echoing out onto the street. I sidled up to the bar, palming my gold coin and hoping I wouldn't have to show it.
"What are you after?" the bartender asked.
"Whiskey," I said. "And information."
"You got money?"
I grimaced, but I put the gold coin down on the bar. "Will this suffice?"
"Depends," he replied, eyeing it greedily. "What kinda information are you looking for?"
"Headed to Linden," I replied. "How do I get there?"
"That information will cost you more than that," he said with a smile. He was missing one of his front teeth.
I exhaled and placed the remaining two gold coins on the bar. "What about for this?"
"Oh, for that?" He swiped the coins off the bar. "That'll get you out the door."
I chuckled and sat back. Then in one movement, I jumped over the bar, grabbed the bartender by the arm, twisted it behind his back, and pressed my knife to his throat.
"Give me my coin back or I'll take it out of your hide," I snarled.
He cried out and placed the coins on the bar. I vaulted over the dark wood and grabbed the coins, replacing them in my pouch.
"You might've been able to swindle Forcadelians in the past," I said, pressing him harder to the bar. "But now you'll think twice about it."
"Oi!"
The guard I'd seen earlier in the day walked through the door. He yanked out his sword and pointed it at me. "I knew you were trouble, Forcadelian! Unhand him!"
I released the man. "He stole from me."
"Lies!" the man cried. "She just attacked me! Trying to rob my bar!"
"Oh bull—"
The guard stormed toward me. "You're under arrest!"
"Perfect." I heartily rolled my eyes. "I'll just be on my way. No need to do anything stupid."
The guard lunged for me, but overcompensated and slid over the wet surface, landing in a heap on the floor. I took the opportunity and dashed out the door, into the cold night.
In hindsight, it might've been smarter to go to jail.
I kept running until I was far out of town, until my lungs burned from the cold. It was now past dark, and there was nothing on this road but shadows and a bitterly cold wind that blew right through this so-called warm cloak. I'd hoped there'd be a nearby town that might have an empty room, but so far, I was just walking aimlessly.
Panic creeped in at the edge of my mind. Even in the weeks when I'd first arrived in Forcadel and I hadn't had a place to lay my head, I hadn't worried too much. It had been a balmy spring, and sleeping under the stars was something of a blessing. But here in this frozen wasteland, if I didn't find shelter, I might very well die of exposure.
My fingers found the fabric of my mask in my slingbag, and I pressed the cloth against my numb face. My breath dispelled the cold somewhat, but the rest of my body was still trembling.
My foot slipped on a patch of dark ice and I landed hard on my rear. I winced, both from the pain and from the frigid wetness now seeping through my pants. Gingerly, I crept back onto the dirt of the road and glared at the offending patch. My tailbone ached—I hoped it wasn't broken. I officially hated this country.
But just as I was cursing everything related to Niemen, including Katarine, I spotted something in the distance. A small light.
Sending a prayer to the Mother that I wouldn't find more of that northern hospitality, I gathered myself and walked toward it. As I drew closer, I made out the shape of a farm, the light coming from a lantern over the farmhouse.
I approached slowly, keeping my footfalls quiet. The farm itself was modest; a large barn with locked doors sat directly across from the house. A shadow moved, and I nearly fell on my ass again. The cat meowed, gazing up at me with eyes illuminated by the lantern.
"Are your people nice?" I whispered.
The cat turned and walked away, its tail curling around in what was probably a rude gesture.
I blew air between my lips quietly, watching the air blossom upward. Nothing in this country had led me to believe that if I knocked on the door, the people inside would help me.
A horse whinnied from the stable next to the barn, and I smirked. But what the house occupants didn't know wouldn't hurt them.
The stables were also locked, but I managed to find a window I could slide open. I landed in the tack room, where I snatched a few blankets that would surely keep me warm during the night. Quietly, I opened the door and walked down the row of doors. A horse popped its head out and whinnied at me; I cooed to quiet it. Holding out my hand, I wished I had an apple or something, but the horse clomped over to me without it. I pulled off the thick gloves and pressed my fingers to its soft nose.
"Ssh," I whispered, running my fingers down its muzzle. "If you don't rat me out, I'm going to bunk with you tonight. Promise I won't hog the covers."
The horse nudged me again, and I realized it was uncovered. So I unlocked the gate and threw one of the horse blankets on top of the animal and made sure it was attached for the night ahead.
"There, happy now?" I asked, locking the gate again. The stable next to it was clean and mostly empty, save for a pile of hay. I laid another horse blanket on top then sat down and covered myself with my cloak. I was still frigid, but even the cold hay was warmer than nothing. And with some difficulty, I lay back and drifted off to an unsettled sleep.