THIRTY-EIGHT

The harbor bell echoed like a harbinger in the silence of Sagsay Holm as I stood at the window, watching the fog spill over the docks.

West tucked the wild strands of hair behind his ear. His attention was on the buttons of his jacket, but I was thinking about the way he’d looked in the candlelight the night before, warm light on bronze skin. I could still feel the sting of him on me, and the memory made my cheeks flush pink. But West didn’t look embarrassed. If anything, he looked more settled. Steadied.

I pulled in a long, slow breath, trying to calm my nerves. As if he could read my thoughts, West pressed a kiss to my temple. “You ready?”

I nodded, picking up the frock from where I’d dropped it on the floor the night before. I was ready. West had promised me that even if the Roths betrayed us, he wouldn’t honor Holland’s contract. Even if that meant leaving the Marigold behind and spending the rest of our lives in the rye fields or diving on Jeval.

Truthfully, I didn’t care anymore. I had found a family in West, and I’d learned enough from all that had happened to know that I would trade anything in the world for it.

Willa, Paj, Auster, Hamish, and Koy waited out on the deck, each of them straightening when we came out of the breezeway. Tru was at the bow, flicking a coin into the air and catching it.

I walked to the starboard railing and tossed the frock overboard. It fell through the air, green silk rippling before it landed in the slate-blue water.

West was right. Holland didn’t understand the Narrows. She thought that wealth and power could buy her way into Ceros, but she’d underestimated us. There was a lifeblood that connected the people who were born on those shores. The ones who sailed those waters. The people of the Narrows couldn’t be bought.

More than that, Holland had underestimated me.

I watched the dress sink, disappearing beneath the white foam.

It didn’t matter how much Holland tried to dress me up. I wasn’t my mother.

“You sure you don’t want us to come?” Paj asked, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of West and me going to the Trade Council meeting alone.

“I don’t want any of you anywhere near Holland,” he answered. “No matter what happens, be ready to set sail by nightfall. And let the kid go.” He tipped his head toward Tru.

I looked to Koy, then to the others. “Even if you have to leave without us, take him home.”

Hamish nodded, but Willa’s apprehension was plain on her face as she looked between us. West gave her a reassuring look, but it didn’t seem to help. She climbed the mast without a word.

“She’s fine,” Auster said. “We’ll see you in a few hours.”

West took the ladder first, and I climbed down after him. I looked back to the Marigold one more time as we made our way up and out of the harbor, saying my own kind of goodbye.

The Council District sat at the bottom of the same hill where Wolfe & Engel was perched. It was ensconced by bronze archways adorned with scrolling vines that held the seals of the five guilds: gem and rye merchants, sailmakers, smiths, and shipwrights. The most powerful people on the water and on the land.

The pier was built with thick beams of oiled mahogany, carved with the same seals that marked the archways. West stayed close to me as I stepped into the crowd of fine frocks, pinned curls, and tailored suits headed into the district. I could spot the merchants and traders from the Narrows easily, their sea-swept hair and clothes standing out among the crisp, clean colors. They all drifted toward the enormous open doors ahead.

Holland was waiting at the entrance, her gloved hands tucked into her fur stole. When she spotted us, she frowned.

She looked sourly at my clothes as we neared her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“No one was going to believe I was a dredger, much less a trader, in that ridiculous costume,” I muttered. “If you want to use me to bait the Narrows Trade Council, then I can’t look like a Saltblood.”

She sneered at me. She knew I was right, but she didn’t like it. “I’ll have that ship at the bottom of the sea by sundown if either of you get in the way of what I’m doing here.” Not even a hint of anger flashed in her silvery eyes. “Do you understand?”

“I understand,” I answered.

“About time.” A smooth voice spoke behind me, and I turned to see Henrik Roth standing over me. A plum-colored bowtie was tied around his neck, his face freshly shaved.

I tried to read him, desperately hoping that he wasn’t about to ruin everything.

What are you doing here?” Holland growled.

Henrik hooked his thumbs into the suspenders beneath his jacket. “Thought I’d come and watch all the fun.”

There was something unsettling in his smile. As if at any moment, his lips would spread to reveal fangs.

“Can’t get in without a merchant’s ring or a trading license,” he said. “So I thought you’d invite me as your guest.”

I could see Holland weighing her options. She could refuse and risk a scene—one that could reveal her connection to Henrik—or she could agree and risk the same thing happening inside. Either way, she could lose.

She took a step toward him. “You try anything and you won’t make it out of the pier alive.”

“Fine by me.” He smiled.

Holland gave an exasperated sigh before she led us to the threshold of the pier.

“They’re with me,” she said smoothly as the man at the door studied her merchant’s ring.

He answered with a nod, eyeing Henrik. He recognized him, and he wouldn’t be the only one who would.

Inside, glass lanterns hung from the rafters, filling the ceiling with what looked like rows of golden suns. More than one set of eyes lifted to land on me and West as we followed in Holland’s wake. More than one whisper broke the silence.

Holland wove through the fine suits and frocks until the floor opened to a railed rectangle, where two long, empty tables faced each other, each lined with five chairs. The crowd encircled it, filling every inch of the building, and my throat constricted when I realized what they were looking at.

Ezra’s teapots and teacups were set before each chair.

They were exactly as Holland conceived them, their forms astonishing and their grandeur inconceivable. The facets of each gem sparkled, drawing every eye in the room.

Tiered rows of seats marked with trading crests and merchant’s insignias overlooked the platform. Holland found her chair on the row closest to the tables.

I searched the other chairs, looking for Saint’s crest—a triangular sail wreathed by a cresting wave. But when I finally found his seat, it was empty. Behind it, Zola’s crest marked another.

I looked up to West. His eyes were trained on the same thing.

“Do you see him?” I spoke under my breath.

He scanned the room, over the heads around us. “No.”

I touched the back of West’s hand before I shouldered away from him, finding the stairs that led up to Holland.

I took my place beside her, watching the room. Henrik stood at the side of the platform beside West, a look of pure enjoyment on his face. Ezra hadn’t said Henrik was going to be there, and if there was some scheme that betrayed both Holland and Saint, we were about to find out.

A woman came by with a tray of cava glasses, and Holland took two, handing one to me.

The pop of a gavel slamming on the table made me flinch, and the crowd instantly quieted, pressing tighter together as the doors on the balcony flew open.

A single line of men and women filed out, taking the stairs down to the platform and finding their seats. Their newly tailored coats and frocks were trimmed with gold and velvet, their hands covered in jeweled rings. The Narrows Trade Council. Even in their finery, you could see their rough edges. They took their places at the far table before they were followed by the council representing the Unnamed Sea, whose opulence was even more grand.

When they were all in place, they took their seats together. The scrape of chair legs echoed in the silence.

Again, I looked to Saint’s seat. It was still empty.

The woman representing the Narrows Smiths Guild leaned into the master of the Shipwrights Guild, whispering as two men with white gloves filled the ornate teacups before them. It looked as if the teapots were floating off the table, and I could see that Holland liked the admiration. That had been the point.

She swirled the cava in her glass, watching both councils study the pieces with a satisfied grin sliding up the side of her face. She was priming them for her proposal.

The gavel fell again as the master of the Rye Guild for the Unnamed Sea stood. He brushed his coat before he turned to the crowd. “I’d like to welcome you on behalf of the Unnamed Sea and the Narrows to the Biennial Trade Council meeting.”

The doors to the pier closed, shutting out the sunlight, and the room fell quieter, making my palms sweat. I searched the faces in the crowd for my father, my eyes looking for the brilliant blue of his coat.

Beside me, Holland was relaxed, patiently waiting for her moment.

“We’ll open first for new business.” The guild master’s deep voice rang out and the slide of eyes drifted toward the merchant’s seats.

Holland took her time standing, looking out over the room. She was enjoying this. “Esteemed councils, I’d like to put forth today an official request for a license to expand my trading route from Bastian to Ceros.”

The silence resounded, the attention of both councils on my grandmother.

It was the Narrows Gem Guild master who spoke first. She stood, teacup in hand. “This is the fourth time in eight years that you’ve submitted a request for a license, and the answer has always been the same.”

The Gem Guild master from the Unnamed Sea stood next. “The successful enterprise of Holland’s trade has benefited both the Unnamed Sea and the Narrows. Most of the stones traded in your waters have come from her dredging crews. We support her request, as we have done in the past.”

As I suspected, the harbor master wasn’t the only one in Holland’s pocket.

“It is imperative that traders in the Narrows continue to run their routes,” the Narrows Gem Guild master replied.

“Let them,” Holland answered.

“We all know that if your ships start sailing the Narrows, it will sink the trade based out of Ceros.”

The Gem Guild master from the Unnamed Sea lifted her chin. “What trade? Word has it that half of Zola’s fleet has been burned in a petty traders’ rivalry and he hasn’t been seen in weeks. Saint didn’t even bother to take his seat at today’s meeting.”

My pulse kicked up as I eyed the empty chair again. Where was he?

A sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach then, the edges of thought coming into focus. If Saint wasn’t here, it could only mean one of two things. Either he hadn’t made it to the meeting because Holland had made sure of it, or … I swallowed.

What if he’d never intended on making it? What if this was another one of his twisted schemes? Looking out for himself. Letting me draw fire from Holland so that it didn’t find him. Maybe he’d struck his own deal. By now, he could even be back in the Narrows.

I bit down onto my lip and breathed through the pain erupting in my chest. That bastard.

“I have a proposal that I think will suit both councils.” Holland spoke again.

Both Gem Guild masters sat back down, and everyone turned to my grandmother, listening.

She flicked a finger at me, signaling me to stand, and I got to my feet, the weight of hundreds of eyes falling on me.

My mind raced and I looked to the teapots on the tables before us. If Saint wasn’t here, there was only one way to bring Holland down. But if I did what needed to be done, I wasn’t the only one who would pay the price with Holland. West would, too.

I found him in the crowd. He stood at the back corner, his eyes boring into me. The set of his shoulders was rigid as he gave the slightest shake of his head in answer.

Don’t do it, Fable.

“I would like to put forth my granddaughter as head of my trade in Ceros,” Holland crooned.

Silence.

“She was born on a trading ship in the Narrows, where she’s lived her entire life. She’s a dredger, a trader, and a gem sage.”

I blinked. A hush fell over the huge room, and I tried not to move. Holland’s attention didn’t leave the councils before us, where more than one master on the Narrows Trade Council whispered to their neighbor.

“She will sail beneath my crest with a fleet of six ships and set up a post in Ceros under the authority of the Narrows Trade Council and Gem Guild,” Holland continued. “Our inventory will be limited to gems and gems only.”

But everyone in the room had to know what that really meant. She’d start with gems. As her coffers grew, so would her inventory. Smaller traders would go under and she’d be there to pick up the pieces. In no time, she’d own the Narrows.

“Shall we call for a vote?” The master of the Unnamed Sea Rye Guild stood, tucking his hands into his gold-lined pockets.

The masters each gave hesitant nods and my hands curled to fists inside my jacket pockets, my heart hammering. She was going to win. She was going to get everything.

I took a step forward before I could change my mind, my skin going cold. But as my lips parted, the door at the back of the pier flew open, filling the room with bright sunlight. I blinked furiously, my eyes adjusting to see a sharp silhouette moving through the crowd.

“My apologies.” My father’s deep voice resonated throughout the room, and I let out a painful breath, swallowing. “I’m late.”

The Unnamed Sea Trade Council eyed Saint suspiciously as he made his way up onto the platform between the tables.

He didn’t look at me as he walked to his chair, flinging his coat out behind him before he sat. “Now, what have I missed?”