“I don’t like this,” grumbled the Antari prince as he joined them on deck. “Jasta, we—”
“We unload the crates and restock,” insisted the captain as she and Hano uncoiled the ropes and threw them over. “One hour, maybe two. Stretch your legs. We’ll be out of port by nightfall, and to the market by late morning.”
“I for one could use a meal,” said Alucard, unhitching the ramp. “No offense meant, Jasta, but Ilo cooks about as well as he sees.”
The ship drifted to a stop as two dock hands caught the ropes and tied them off. Alucard set off down the ramp without a backward glance, Bard on his heels.
“Sanct,” muttered Jasta under her breath. Kell and Lenos both turned toward her. Something was wrong, Lenos felt it in his gut.
“You coming?” called Lila, but Kell called back, “I’m staying on the ship.” And then he spun on Jasta. “What is it?”
“You need to get off,” said the Ghost’s captain. “Now.”
“Why?” asked Kell, but Lenos had already seen the trio headed their way down the dock. Two men and a woman, all in black, and each with a sword hanging at their waist. A nervous prickle ran through him.
Kell finally noticed the strangers. “Who are they?”
“Trouble,” spat Jasta, and Lenos turned to warn Alucard and Bard, but they were already halfway down the dock, and the captain must have seen the danger, too, because he threw his arm casually around Lila’s shoulder, angling her away.
“What’s going on?” demanded Kell as Jasta spun on her heel and started for the hold.
“They shouldn’t be here, not this early in the year.”
“Who are they?” demanded Kell.
“This is a private port,” said Lenos, his long legs easily keeping pace, “run by a man named Rosenal. Those are his swords. Normally they don’t dock until summer, when the weather holds and the sea is full. They are here to check the cargo, search for contraband.”
Kell shook his head. “I thought this ship dealt in contraband.”
“It does,” said Jasta, descending the steps in two strides and taking off down the hold. “Rosenal’s men take a cut. Convenient, too, since the only ships that come here do not fly royal colors. But they are early.”
“I still don’t understand why we have to go,” said Kell. “Your cargo is your problem—”
Jasta turned on him, her form filling the hall. “Is it? Not in London anymore, princeling, and not everyone outside the capital is friend to the crown. Out here, coin is king, and no doubt Rosenal’s men would love to ransom a prince, or sell Antari parts to the Ferase Stras. If you want to make it there intact, get the traitor magician and go.”
Lenos saw the other man go pale.
Steps sounded on deck, and Jasta snarled and took off again, leaving Kell to snag a pair of caps from the hooks in the hall and pull one down over his copper hair. Holland couldn’t have heard Jasta’s warning through the floor, but the stomping must have said enough, because he was already on his feet when they arrived.
“I assume there’s a problem.” Lenos’s stomach cramped with worry at the sight of him free, but Kell just pushed the second cap into the Antari’s hands.
“Jasta?” called a new voice overhead.
Holland tugged the cap down, his black eye lost beneath the brim’s shadow as the captain nudged them both out of the cabin toward the window at the back of the ship. She threw it open, revealing a short ladder that plunged toward the water below.
“Go. Now. Come back in an hour or two.” Jasta was already turning away as one of the figures reached the stairs leading down into the hold. A pair of black boots came into sight and Lenos threw his narrow frame in front of the window.
Behind him, Kell climbed through.
He waited for the splash, but heard nothing but a rush of breath, an instant of silence, and then the muted thud of boots hitting dock. Lenos glanced over his shoulder to see Holland leap from the ladder and land in an elegant crouch beside Kell just before Rosenal’s sellswords came stomping into the hold.
“What’s this now?” said the woman when she saw Lenos, limbs spread across the opening. He managed an awkward smile.
“Just airing out the hold,” he said, turning to swing the window shut. The sellsword caught his wrist and shoved him aside.
“That so?” Lenos held his breath as she stuck her head out the window, scanning the water and the docks.
But when she drew back into the hold, he saw the answer in her bored expression and sagged with relief.
She’d seen nothing strange.
The Antari were gone.
V
Lila had a bad feeling about Rosenal.
She didn’t know if it was the port town itself that disturbed her, or the fact that they were being followed. Probably the latter.
At first, she thought it might be nothing, an echo of nerves from that close call back on the docks, but as she climbed the hill to the town, the certainty settled like a cloak around her shoulders, awareness scratching at her neck.
Lila had always been good at knowing when she wasn’t alone. People had a presence, a weight in the world. Lila had always been able to sense it, but now she wondered if maybe it was the magic in their blood she’d been hearing all along, ringing like a plucked string.
And by the time they reached the rise, Kell either sensed it, too, or he simply felt her tensing beside him.