The siege of Castle Fairview seemed to have taken the life out of the rest of the Commonwealth. Few traveled the roads and in the towns and villages people remained wary but curious of the scant travelers, no doubt seeking news of the war and whether it would spread. When the news caught up with Cian and Raea that King Marcus and the Prince of the Commonwealth had signed a peace treaty granting Damar control of Castle Fairview and its domain, the relief of the commoners was palpable.

  More than a week had passed while Raea and her Varathian travel companion had traversed to the other end of the realm, heading northeast. The weather was turning colder, and Raea rubbed her hands and wrists together as they walked, hoping to warm her limbs even through her gloves.

  “Why is it so cold?” she asked aloud. “If this is what the north is like then I wish I’d never come here.”

  “The north is usually colder than the south,” Cian admitted. “But this has more to do with the coming winter than where we are.”

  “I don't remember winter being this cold,” Raea commented. “It’s always been just…slightly less warm.”

  Cian chuckled at the young girl’s observation. “That is a blessing the south has, certainly. But I’ve never regarded it as anything particularly important.”

  “Whatever,” Raea responded. “How much longer until we get to…what was it called? Granz?”

  “If I have it right in my head, we should be there any moment,” Cian answered. “I think we’ve crossed the border into Novar already.”

  “Novar?” Raea questioned.

  “Yes, the Kingdom of Novar, the most northeastern nation on the continent,” Cian said. “It controls a small sliver of land separating Granz from the Commonwealth.”

  “How does that work?” Raea asked.

  “Granz used to be a territory of Novar, you see,” Cian explained. “Until it gained independence…huh, it’s been several decades, now that I think about it. The kingdom still controls the area around the city.”

  “Why doesn’t Novar retake it?” Raea continued her questioning.

  “Granz is the biggest port in the North by far, and that makes it very wealthy,” Cian answered. “The city rebelled after the King of Novar tried to bar merchants from a rival kingdom from entering Granz, which the business leaders of the city didn’t take kindly to, as it meant that they lost out on the merchants’ coin.”

  “How can a bunch of shop owners stand up to an army?” Raea asked.

  “If they’re rich enough they can hire one of their own,” Cian replied. “Mercenary companies with better trained soldiers than whatever Novar can throw at them, a massive fleet that controls the coasts, and the grandest walls to have ever protected a city. Merchant’s gold has turned Granz into a fortress. Speaking of which, I think we should be able see the walls right about now.”

  Raea looked up from her cold hands, peering ahead. There she saw a great wall of stone climbing up over the horizon. She had seen city walls around Vera, but those had been ancient fortifications, weathered stone the city had long since outgrown. She thought too of the walls around Empress Marie’s palace, the Bastion. Those were worn down, a mismatch with the keep they were supposed to protect, a relic of a bygone era.

  The great walls of Granz, however, were new and well maintained. Even from a distance its size and girth imposed itself on the surrounding area, reminding Raea of some of the great buildings of Vera and Trone in how it dominated the scene. It was so big that the great mass of people gathered beneath it seemed small.

  “Wonder what this is about,” Cian commented as he and Raea approached.

  “Trying to get into the city?” someone asked from behind them.

  The pair turned to see a boy, a teenager a few years older than Raea from the look of him. He smiled at the mismatched travelers, green eyes peering at them from underneath unruly black hair. He was long, lanky, and pushing six feet tall by Raea’s guess. There was something about him that she found out of place, as if his teeth were too bright or something.

  “Just passing through,” Cian responded. “Did something happen here?”

  “There was a big flood in Novar, wiped out almost a dozen villages,” the boy explained. “Refugees have been trying to get into Granz for weeks, but the Council is only letting in people who pay a toll.”

  “Hm, well, unfortunate for them,” Cian commented. “Come, girl.”

  “Wait!” the boy exclaimed and Cian and Raea began to turn away. “I wouldn’t be so hasty.”

  “And why’s that?” Cian asked.

  “There’s a detachment of Novar soldiers here,” the boy answered. “They’re checking for suspicious people who pass through the gates, and from what I hear they’re taking a pretty…open interpretation as to what that means. Like elves and other non-humans. Like you.”

  “Hm, that seems a little odd, Elves aren’t that common in this part of the world,” Cian commented. “Wouldn’t expect Novar soldiers to go so far out of their way just to snag a few.”

  The boy shrugged before responding. “Well, maybe there’s some elven criminal who’s trying to get into the city, I don’t know. But the soldiers are treating all nonhumans with suspicion.”

  Raea looked up at Cian. “Could it be Melos?”

  “I doubt it. Would be some coincidence to run into him a fourth time,” the Varathian answered.

  “Who?” the dark-haired boy asked.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Cian dismissed the question. “What does matter, however, is who you are, and why you’re talking to us.”

  “Oh, well, um,” the boy began before sighing. “My name is Peter, and I’m looking to get into the city.”

  Cian gestured towards the front gates of Granz. “It’s right there.”

  “No, I…don’t have any money,” Peter replied.

  “Hm, sounds like a problem for you,” Cian responded. He began to turn around, but stopped when Raea tapped him on the leg.

  “Who are you?” she asked Peter. “Really, I mean. Because you don’t feel like a commoner.”

  The boy hesitated, seeming unsure as to how to respond to Raea’s question. “Well, um, neither do you,” he said back. “Traveling with a Varathian and all that.”

  “That’s enough, girl,” Cian said with a sigh. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Raea rolled her eyes at the Varathian. “Whatever, old man.”

  Cian shook his head at the girl’s behavior, but in doing so something caught his eye. He turned to stare at whatever it was, a questioning eyebrow raised. Raea turned and followed his gaze, seeing a pair of soldiers walking amongst the crowd, examining people as they went. They wore brown and yellow wool over their armor, their chests bearing an emblem of a bear with spears piercing either side of its neck.

  “Why the hell…?” Cian began, turning to look at Peter, but the boy had disappeared. “Oh, son of a bitch, where did he go?” he asked. He stalked off, sniffing at the air. Raea followed, watching the Varathian at work with great interest.

  He meandered back and forth, following his nose as he went. A group of people that he passed near recoiled from his presence, one of the women grabbing a child off the ground and running in the opposite direction. Raea glanced over her shoulder at the soldiers who, while noticing the commotion, seemed uninterested in investigating further.

  Raea turned her attention back to the Varathian, who was continuing to stray further from the beaten path. She continued to follow him, noticing water spraying up into air in the distance beyond him. A familiar sight to someone who had lived for so long on an island, she assumed that a rocky shoreline was just beyond her vision.

  The further Cian got from the crowd, the more direct his path became. Then he changed course towards a large boulder, disappearing behind it. Raea started jogging toward it once she heard a high-pitched yelp coming from the vicinity. She rounded to the other side to see Cian holding Peter by the shoulders, pinning the boy to the boulder.

  “Who the hell are you really?!” Cian asked.

  “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Peter replied, wide-eyed.

  “Those weren’t just soldiers,” Cian responded. “Those were Royal Huntsmen, and you disappeared as soon as they showed up.”

  “The what?” Raea asked.

  “Royal Huntsmen,” Cian repeated. “Novar’s most elite forces, directly under the command of the King himself. They don’t chase just anyone.”

  Peter grimaced and closed his eyes, breathing sharp and fast through his nose as he fought against his own panic. “OK, OK!” he yelled. “I was lying to you. They’re after me.”

  “Why?” Cian asked, loosening his grip on the dark-haired boy.

  “I ran away from home,” Peter answered.

  Cian scoffed at the response. “Kid, if you don’t start being serious, I’m going to start getting angry.”

  “No, no, I’m telling the truth,” Peter assured him. “It’s just…my home is the Royal Palace in Duvine, and my full name is Peter of House Clovist, Prince of Novar and Heir Apparent.”

  Cian narrowed his eyes at the boy. “You’re a fucking prince?”

  “Yes, yes I am,” Peter confirmed.

  “What kind of stupid prince would run away?” Raea asked.

  “The kind who hates his dad for killing his mom!” Peter snapped back. He swatted at Cian’s hands, causing the Varathian to let the boy go, more out of surprise than any actual harm caused by the young prince.

  “What?” Raea questioned, caught off guard.

  “You heard me, and I don’t feel like explaining myself right now,” Peter replied with a sudden show of backbone. “Instead, I was hoping to hire a Varathian to get me into the city unnoticed.” He produced a fistful of coins from his pocket and shoved them into Cian’s hand.

  “I hope you have more than this,” Cian commented, looking down at the money.

  “I have an account with a bank in Granz,” Peter responded. “I’ll be able to pay you the rest once we get into the city.”

  Cian looked up from the coins on his palm. “You’ve been planning this escape for a while, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah, well, I have to do it right, or there’ll be hell to pay,” Peter replied.

  Cian sighed before taking the coin and stowing it away. “Alright then,” he said, starting to walk towards where Raea assumed the shoreline was. She started walking after him up the gentle slopes of a hill, over the top of which Raea could see once more the faintest signs of ocean water spraying up into the air.

  “Excuse me, where are we going?” Peter asked, following after the pair.

  “There used to be a sheltered path into the city, carved into the cliffs along the coast,” Cian explained. “They were closed down when Granz declared its independence. Hopefully, one of the paths will be intact enough that we can get to the harbor on the far side of the city.”

  “Intact?” Peter repeated as the trio crested the top of the hill. Except it wasn’t a hill.

  “Wow,” Raea said, staring down the cliff face at the jagged rocks below. She looked over at the walls, to where they met the cliff’s edge and followed it down to the sea.

  “I’d read about the cliffs protecting Granz harbor,” Peter commented. “But seeing it is something else.”

  “Yes, part of the reason why the port is so successful,” Cian responded. “The other is that the small sliver of clear shoreline at the bottom is the only place for hundreds of miles where ships can safely dock in numbers.”

  “Hm,” Raea voiced as she took in the sights. “So where’s this path?”

  “Below,” Cian replied as he started lowering himself down.

  “Below?!” Peter echoed before staring wide-eyed down the side of the cliff. “I’m not keen on dying today, thank you,” he said, turning to Raea.

  The girl shrugged in response. “Your choice. But way I see it, the old man might seem a bit crazy, but he’s usually right.” She started to lower herself down the cliffside, following Cian’s path. To her surprise, there were handholds carved into the stone, making the path easier than she had anticipated.

  “I guess I’ll come along,” an exasperated Peter muttered. “Carag, please don’t let me die,” he added as he began his descent.

  Raea shook her head at the prince’s comments before continuing down the path of handholds. She glanced down to look at Cian, only to find that he had disappeared from view. For a moment she thought he had fallen, but as she continued she caught sight of him standing on a path that had been carved into the rock face, impossible to see from above. With minimal effort she swung down to join him.

  Then Peter followed, straining to keep his grip. “Prophet’s blood!” he swore, grimacing as he lowered himself into position to swing onto the path. But one of his hands slipped, leaving the prince hanging by fingertips over the sharp rocks and churning sea below.

  With an annoyed grunt Cian reached out, grabbing Peter by the shoulder and jerking him back onto the path.

  “Oh God!” Peter exclaimed, holding his forehead to the stone floor. “If I die, I’m killing you both.”

  “Good luck with that,” Cian replied before turning to walk down the path toward the city.

  Peter looked up at Raea. “You know, I’m almost regretting this.”

  “Almost?” Raea questioned.

  “Well, being with my father would still be worse,” Peter replied, climbing back on his feet.

  “Because he killed your mom?” Raea asked. “Why would a king kill his queen?”

  “She wasn’t his queen,” Peter answered. “Come on,” he added, gesturing to the retreating form of Cian. Both he and Raea began walking after the Varathian.

  “You’ve got a story, I’m guessing,” Raea said as they moved.

  Peter shrugged. “I suppose you could say that,” he replied.

  Raea looked ahead at the path, how it curved along with the cliffside. It stretched on for miles “Seems like it’ll be a long walk, and he’s not one for meaningless conversation. I’d like to hear your story, if you want to pass the time.”

  Peter studied Raea, watching her face, her eyes. “You didn’t strike me as the talkative type,” he commented. “Not that different from him, actually.”

  “You’re not wrong. I used to live alone, pretty much all my life, and I thought I was alright with that. I think I still am,” Raea admitted. “But, ever since I started traveling with the old man, I’ve realized that other people live in different ways.”

  “And you want to learn about them?” Peter asked.

  Raea nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “I get that,” Peter responded. “And I think you’re right, this is going to be a long walk and-“

  “Watch your step! Parts of the path have collapsed!” they both heard Cian exclaim from ahead.

  The pair arrived at a section where half of the path had collapsed off the cliffside. Peter peered over the edge.

  “And I want to not think about the wet, spiky death below,” he finished his earlier thought.

  “Then you don’t think about it,” Raea commented, bounding over the still intact portion in a few elongated strides.

  “Good point,” Peter responded, moving to do the same. But then he looked down once more, and recoiled from the edge, pushing himself against the inner wall.

  Raea rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s not wait around all day.”

  “Yes, I am trying,” an exasperated Peter replied, trying to turn his head away from the water below even as his eyes were drawn to it.

  Raea sighed before holding out her hand. “Come on,” she said, offering it to the panicking prince. Peter took her hand, and she pulled him onto a more intact portion of the path.

  “Ah,” Peter let out in relief, putting his other hand on Raea’s shoulder. “Thank you.” He looked at his hand touching Raea, and then stared at her eyes. With a flurry of movement he pulled his hands back, trying to fight back the awkward smile on his face. “Sorry,” he said. “Afraid of heights.”

  “And I’m afraid of the water,” Raea responded. “Now come on,” she commanded, resuming their way down the path.

  Peter hurried after her. “Do you still want to hear my story?” he asked. “Because I think I need the distraction now more than ever.”

  “I’m not going to stop you,” Raea replied.

  “OK, then,” Peter began. “Well, my father is Simon Clovist, King of Novar. But my mother is not Catherine Rurik, Queen of Novar.”

  “You’re a bastard,” Raea surmised.

  “In the literal sense of the word, yes,” Peter confirmed. “My mother was named Aleia, a maid who worked at the Royal Palace in Duvine. To make a long story short, my father rapes her one day, and out I come nine months later.”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Raea came to a stop. “What did she do about it?”

  “She did what any elf woman alone in the world with nowhere else to go would do,” Peter answered. “She bottled it all inside, and did her best to raise her human son by herself.”

  “You’re a half-elf,” Raea realized.

  Peter smiled, holding his hands out in a gesture of showmanship. “Call me the half-elf prince!”

  Raea stared at the prince with cold eyes. “No,” she said, cool and flat.

  Peter dropped his hands to his sides, smile fading as he did. “OK, fine then. Don’t.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Raea admonished him, walking away down the path.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Peter offered, following after her. “But back to the story. See, I wasn’t a prince at first. In fact, for a long while I didn’t even know who my father was. It was a secret my mom buried deep inside her, and one that my father nearly forgot. But when I was ten my true-born half-brother, though I didn’t know that we were brothers at the time, died in a hunting accident. Tragic, really. He actually knew a thing or two about kindness, unlike his father.”

  “Did you know him?” Raea asked.

  “A little bit. But I was just the kid of one of the maids, we weren’t friends or anything,” Peter answered. “Anyway, after his death the Kingdom of Novar was without a legitimate male heir. The Queen was already past her childbearing years, so my father spent months petitioning the High Father to annul their marriage. But there were still two perfectly healthy and legitimate daughters, and the High Father argued that if it was good enough for the Empire of Olica to have a woman on the throne when no man was available, then it’s good enough for the Kingdom of Novar.”

  “Empress Marie, huh,” Raea commented. “I’d say that she was more than good enough for Olica.”

  “What, you’ve met her or something?” Peter asked.

  “Once or twice,” Raea answered.

  “You’ll have to tell me about it some time,” the young prince commented. “But don’t tell my father, because he hates the idea of a woman sitting on the throne.”

  “Why?” Raea questioned. “Seems silly.”

  “He thinks they’re too soft-hearted to rule,” Peter answered. “Whether you agree with that or not, King Simon brought me before the court, revealed me as his bastard son, and declared that I was to be his true heir.”

  “Did that make you happy?” Raea asked.

  Peter shook his head. “I was too shocked to feel anything, let alone happiness, and everything was happening so fast. I went from having nothing but a straw-stuffed burlap sack in a corner to sleep on, to having my own bedchambers with a bed large enough for an entire family.”

  “Sounds like a nice upgrade,” Raea commented. “But what about the part with your dad killing your mom?”

  “Oh, that,” Peter said, frowning. “My father might have felt forced to accept me, but he wouldn’t accept my mom. I wanted her to come with me, or at least not have to work anymore. But my father wouldn’t allow her to be anything other than a maid.”

  “Because she’s an elf,” Raea guessed.

  Peter let out a rueful laugh. “Apparently elves are good enough to wet his royal cock with, but not good enough to treat with any kind of dignity. Or pay a doctor when they become deathly ill. Or even to bring in a priest to give final rites on their deathbed.”

  “When did that happen?” Raea asked.

  “Two years ago,” Peter answered. “She just got sick, like her body was just giving up. I asked my father to get some help for her, he just ignored me. So I asked again, and again. Every single chance I got I would ask him. Hell, even my sisters tried to appease him, but he just acted like she was…I don’t know, some farm animal that had already given him what he wanted. By the end, I was still begging him, but it was already too late. The moment she passed, I started making plans to leave the palace.”

  Raea held her silence for a moment, considering everything that Peter had told her. “I don’t know if I’m the type of person you’d want to hear this from, but I think you made the right choice.”

  “Thanks, it’s nice to hear those words, to be honest,” Peter responded.

  The pair continued following the path before finding Cian standing over a ledge.

  “Don’t tell me we came all this way for nothing,” Peter said, stopping several feet from the edge.

  “We’re almost there,” Cian replied, pointing at something up above them. “They just decided to make the last part a tad more difficult.”

  Raea walked over beside Cian and looked up towards where he was pointing. There was a ledge some distance above them, made of smoothly cut worked stone.

  “What’s up there?” she asked.

  “The harbor,” Cian answered. “I’m guessing they tore down the stairs that used to be here. Would have made it too easy to get around the walls if they hadn’t.”

  “Then what do we do about it?” Peter asked.

  Cian studied the distance between where they were and the ledge above. “I’m guessing that’s a little under 15 feet,” he said. “So I’ll throw you both up there.”

  “Throw us?” Peter echoed. He inched closer to the edge and looked down. “Nope, nope,” he said. “I’m going back.” The refugee prince turned around and started to walk away, but failed to make a single step before Cian grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him back.

  “No, you aren’t, I’ve gone too far out of my way to not get paid now.”” the Varathian said with authority.

  Peter opened his mouth to retort, but the words died in his mouth as he came face to face with an annoyed Varathian. “Fine,” he said instead.

  “Good,” Cian replied, putting the prince down. “Raea, you think you can grab that ledge if I throw you up there?”

  The girl looked down at the waters below, closer now than when they had first started on this cliffside path. “If I don’t, will you get me out of the water?”

  “Didn’t you learn how to swim?” Cian asked.

  “I was starting too, but other things got in the way,” Raea answered.

  “Oh, that’s right,” Cian said. “Well, now’s not a good time either.”

  Raea looked down at the water below. “Bet it would be really cold,” she commented.

  Cian put one hand on the collar of Raea’s shirt. “Then don’t fall in,” he suggested. “You ready?”

  Raea let out a sigh of resignation. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered.

  The Varathian gripped the collar of Raea’s leather shirt with one hand while grabbing at the bottom of it with the other. With a grunt of exertion he heaved her up towards the ledge above.

  Raea went wide eyed at the sensation of flying up through the air. She could feel her insides lurch as she reached the apex of her path, her face level with the ledge she had just been craning her neck to look at from below. For a short moment she floated in the air, distracted by the novel sensation. Then she felt herself starting to fall, so she desperately reached out with both arms, managing to get both of them over the edge. The rest of her body continued to fall, first down and then forward, causing her chest to slam into the side.

  “Carag’s blood!” she cursed, grimacing in pain. She dragged herself up and over on the ledge before laying down on it. Hanging her head over the edge, she gazed down at the water.

  “That would’ve sucked,” she commented.

  “You ready?” she heard Cian call out.

  “Ready for what?” Raea asked in return.

  “To catch our prince,” Cian answered.

  Raea frowned, looking out the side of her eye to where she knew the Varathian and the Prince were. “Fine,” she called out, rolling over onto her stomach and holding her arms out.

  As soon she had given her verbal assent, the Prince came flying up towards hers. Acting more out of reflex than anything, she latched onto his outstretched arms with hers, each grasping the other’s hands. Peter’s momentum continued to carry him up however, past Raea, pulling her with him. Then he fell, slamming her already bruised chest into the stone.

  “Fuck!” Raea yelled. Pain shot through her, causing her left hand to lose its grip.

  Peter looked down, a young girl’s right arm the only thing standing between him and the cold waters crashing into the stone face below. “Please don’t let go,” he begged.

  “Argh,” Raea growled in response.

  “Please,” Peter repeated.

  “Shut up!” Raea exclaimed through gritted teeth. With her left hand she pushed against the ground, trying to force herself away from the edge and Peter up over it. Shimmying her hips, she began dragging herself back. She managed to make some distance, inch by inch, until Peter was able to grab the edge with his free hand and pull himself up the rest of the way.

  “Oh, thank the Prophet!” Peter exclaimed, rolling onto his back. “Ground, I shall never forsake you again,” he added, rubbing his hands against the stone floor.

  “Agh,” Raea groaned through gritted teeth, rolling onto her back and holding her hands over her sore chest.

  “Everything alright up there?” Cian called out from below.

  Raea coughed trying to speak through the pain in her chest.

  “We’re fine,” Peter answered for both of them.

  “Sorry I threw you so hard,” Cian said. “You were lighter than I was expecting, little prince.”

  “Yeah, I hear that a lot,” Peter replied.

  “I see,” Cian commented. “Well, you two sit tight, I’ll join you on the other side.”

  Raea stared up at the sky, trying to interpret what the Varathian just said. “What’s he doing?” she finally asked Peter.

  “He’s going around and going in the normal way,” the prince answered. “He said he can’t jump that gap and that he could afford the toll anyway.”

  “Oh,” Raea said, surprised that the Varathian was getting in the city through such mundane means. “So what do we do now?”

  “He knows the bank I have my account with,” Peter said, standing up. “Come on, we’re supposed to meet him there.” He offered his hand to Raea.

  “Thanks,” the girl said, grabbing Peter by the arm and letting him lift her to her feet. Now that she was no longer concerned with what was happening outside the wall, she turned her attention to inside. “Wow,” she stated, looking out at the massive harbor and the dozens of ships coming, going, and docked within it. The wall extended some way out to sea, protecting the docks from the open ocean and forming a half open semi-circle around it.

  “You can say that again,” Peter commented. “I’ve never seen the sea or a ship before today, but this is something else. Are all harbors like this?”

  “Kind of, I guess,” Raea replied. “I grew up on an island and lived most of my life near a harbor, nothing near as big as this though.”

  Peter looked around, studying the docks. “Hey,” he said, pointing at a staircase leading down to the harbor. “Let’s go that way,”

  “Sure,” Raea responded and the pair started walking.

  “So, you’ve heard some of my story,” Peter began. “Mind sharing some of yours?”

  “My story?” Raea asked. “Why would you want to hear that?”

  Peter chuckled and gave Raea a half-smile. “Come on, you’re a young girl traveling with a Varathian, that alone makes you interesting.”

  “Alright,” Raea said. “But don’t blame me if you end up regretting it.”

  ***

  Raea and Peter sat in the lobby of a bank, a purse containing the rest of Cian’s payment sitting on the table between them. Raea watched the people coming and going through the marble column flanked entrance to the bank, wondering would kind of person would have so much money that they would decide to keep some in a bank. She glanced over at Peter, who had picked up a book from a shelf in the corner.

  “How is it?” she asked.

  “Terrible,” Peter replied without looking up from the pages. “The prose is flat and the characters don’t act like living people. But there’s not much else to do here other than wait.”

  Raea continued to watch Peter, his eyes moving across the pages.

  “You like reading?” she asked him.

  “Um, yeah, I guess,” he answered. With a sigh he closed the book and laid it down on the table next to the coin purse. “Actually, I love reading. Learning how to do it is the best thing that came out of all this prince stuff. Well, at least one of them.”

  Raea shifted in her seat, thinking on Peter’s last comment. “Is there something that you’re going to miss about your home?” she asked him.

  “My sisters,” he answered.

  “On your father’s side?” Raea questioned.

  “Yeah,” Peter replied. “They were the only ones who accepted me after my father announced me to the court.”

  “I’ve never had a sibling, at least that I know of,” Raea commented. “What’s it like?”

  Peter paused, thinking over his response. “Um…I think…that the most important thing is that you look out for each other. My sisters had every reason not to like me, I was a near stranger who had been shoved into their lives. Anna, my older sister, could’ve resented me for getting between her and the throne, but she didn’t. In fact, she was the one who taught me how to read.”

  “That’s nice of her,” Raea commented.

  “Yes, that and so much more,” Peter agreed. “And then there’s the younger one, Chloe. She’s a sweetheart. She used to sneak food to the servant’s quarter’s for my mom, even after our father forbade it. She even tried to hire a doctor when she got sick, but unfortunately our father found out.”

  “That was brave of her,” Raea said.

  “What about you?” Peter flipped the question on Raea. “Is there anybody you miss from Carsani?”

  A continent away from the life she had once know, Raea pondered the question. Father Paul? Maybe, but…

  “No,” she said with conviction.

  Peter sighed, his eyes looking to the floor as he slowly nodded his head. “I see. Then I think you have chosen the right path for you. You’re almost there, you know. As I understand it, Artimax is only a few days’ sailing from here.”

  “Hm,” Raea grunted, uncertain how she felt about that.

  It was at this moment that the ambient sounds of the bank ceased. The pair of tellers having small talk between customers went silent. The steady pitter patter of quills and stamps being applied to paperwork came to a halt. Raea lifted her head, looking around at everyone else. She followed their attention to the front door, where a Varathian had just walked in.

  “The atmosphere really changes when he enters, huh,” Peter commented.

  “Eh, you get used to it,” Raea responded.

  Cian scanned the room, acknowledging the attention he was receiving, but not responding to it any further. He walked straight to where Raea and Peter were sitting and, upon seeing that the Varathian wasn’t there to make trouble, the other people around the bank returned to their prior preoccupations.

  “I see you made it,” Cian commented as he approached Raea and Peter.

  The latter took the purse off the table and tossed it up to the Varathian. “Thanks to you two.”

  “My pleasure,” Cian replied as he caught the money out of the air. He felt the heft of the gold in his hand before slipping the purse into a pouch on the front of his scabbard harness. “Come on,” he added, gesturing for Raea to follow him before turning away and walking towards the door.

  “Oh, alright,” Raea responded, surprised by the abrupt exit. “Um, see you, I guess,” she said to Peter as she stood.

  Peter offered a wave. “Goodbye, Raea of Carsani. I hope that we meet again in the future.”

  “…OK,” Raea replied, unsure what else she could say, before she walked out of the bank with Cian.

  “Come on,” Cian said once they were out on the street. “We’re only one stop away from Artimax.”

  “We have to sail there, don’t we?” Raea asked. “I don’t think I’ve been on a ship since we left Carsani.”

  “Ha,” Cian chuckled, giving Raea a wry smile. “Fitting, isn’t it? Start your journey with one ride on a sail ship, end it with another.”

  “I guess,” Raea replied.

  The Varathian shook his head at the girl. “Where’s your sense of the moment?”

  “Sorry, left it at home,” Raea joked.

  “Ha!” Cian barked. “Then let’s see if we can find you a new one!”

  ***

  “Oh, Peter and I walked past this place on the way to the bank,” Raea said, staring up at the sign of a merchant house by the dock.

  “Figured you might,” Cian commented. “Come on,” he added before walking through the entrance. Raea followed him in and upon entering the building saw a man sitting on the counter, blowing smoke into the air.

  He was a striking figure, with skin and hair unlike anyone Raea had ever seen, the former the color of clay and the latter dark with a coarse texture. His upper lip was obscured by a handlebar mustache that twitched as he opened his mouth to remove a smoking pipe from between his lips.

  “Cian!” he cried out, holding his pipe aloft as he leapt to the floor. “How are you, my friend?” he asked as he embraced the Varathian.

  Cian looked down at the man who, nearly a foot shorter than him, was putting his arm around the Varathian’s midsection. “Amir,” he said, trying to contain his annoyance.

  “Ha, ha, ha,” Amir laughed, removing himself from Cian’s person. “What are you doing here? Last I heard Cedric was moving you to and fro on the damned other end of the continent!”

  “You know Cedric?” Raea asked.

  Amir looked at the girl for the first time. He hesitated, studying her. “He’s one of my employees,” he answered her question belatedly. “Who is she?” he asked Cian.

  “This is Raea,” the Varathian answered. “I’m taking her to Artimax.”

  “Ah, so you were looking for a new recruit,” Amir commented.

  “Not at first, but that’s what ended up happening,” Cian replied.

  Amir gave Raea another appraising look. “Has there ever been a woman Varathian?” he asked.

  “No, there hasn’t,” Cian answered.

  For a moment Amir continued to look at Raea quizzically, but then he shrugged. “Ah, doesn’t matter. People used to tell me coming here would be a disaster because no one had done it before, but someone has to be first. Isn’t that right?” He smiled at Raea, gesturing at her with his right hand, the one holding the smoking pipe.

  Raea stared back at the dark skinned man, studying his dress. He had thick, dark make up around his eyes that clashed with his clothes, which were dyed in bright white and purple with gold buttons sewed into it in various places that had no apparent function. He had a white half cape draped over his left shoulder, his left hand seeming to have the sole task of holding it so that it fell over him in just the way he desired. The whole ensemble was so distracting that Raea forgot about the conversation for a moment.

  Seeing the girl’s lack of response, Amir smirked at Cian. “You’ve got yourself a talkative one,” he said wryly.

  Cian chuckled at the comment. “It has its perks.”

  “Where are you from?” Raea asked, heedless of anything the other two had said.

  “Oh, you’re going to cut right to that? What refreshing directness,” Amir commented. “To answer your question, I am from the great city of Madesta on the Salt Coast, far to the southeast beyond the Blood Desert.”

  “Sounds almost as isolated as where I grew up,” Raea replied.

  Amir leaned in towards the girl, making a show of examining Raea from head to toe. “Judging from your red hair, I’m guessing that you could only come the Sunset Ring,” he said. “Am I right?”

  “Where?” Raea asked in return, dumbfounded

  Amir blinked in surprise, clearly unaccustomed to his guesses being off the mark. “You don’t know it? Hm, I’ve never met anyone with your hair color that wasn’t from the Sunset Ring.”

  “Never heard of it, I’m from Carsani,” Raea said. “Sunset Ring sounds interesting though,” she added, finding the words resonating with her being.

  “Not particularly, it’s a very poor place,” Amir responded. “Though given you come from Carsani, any place is more interesting than that, eh?”

  Amir smiled at Raea, waiting for a further response. “Very talkative,” he muttered when she did not oblige him. “I assume you want passage to Artimax,” he said, turning to Cian.

  “That’s right,” the Varathian confirmed.

  “Then I have just the man for you,” Amir replied before walking around the counter. He knocked on the frame of the door behind it.

  “What ya want?” a voice called out in response. The familiar face of Cedric peered out from the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  “Long time no see, pal,” Cian said with a smirk.

  “Yeah!” Cedric replied, his grin showcasing his missing teeth. “So what, ya took the direct route while I went the long way?”

  “Something like that,” Cian answered. “Perhaps you can help us with the last leg of our journey?”

  Cedric gave Cian a quizzical look before glancing over at Raea. “Artimax, eh?” he said, turning back to the Varathian.

  “That’s right,” Cian answered.

  “Then let’s get going,” Cedric said, stepping out from behind the counter.

  Amir looked back and forth between Cedric and Cian, his face aghast with surprise. “Hold on, Cedric, you just got back. Don’t you need to rest?”

  “Ah, it’s nothing that will stop me from helping a friend,” Cedric responded. “Ain’t that right?” he asked of Cian, holding his hand out for the Varathian to shake.

  “It is,” Cian said, taking the sailor’s hand in his own.

  “Now hold on a minute,” Amir interrupted. “You’re going to be taking this trip on my time and I don’t have any shipments headed for Artimax. Can’t have you costing me money.”

  “I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement,” Cian offered.

  And so the Varathian and the merchant began haggling, compromising, and planning. Finding all of this to be terribly boring, Raea took the chance to step outside. Once she did she leaned against the wall next to the door, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

  “It is good to see you again, Astraea of Carsani,” a vaguely familiar voice said to her.

  Opening her eyes, Raea turned to see a priest in black robes with one blind eye.

  “You’re that priest from the prison in Vera,” she noted. “Father…something.”

  “Wodan,” the holy man said with a gentle smile.

  Raea nodded in response before leaning against the wall once more. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Didn’t you have a job at the prison in Vera?”

  “I left my post shortly after you left the prison, as my purpose there had been fulfilled,” Father Wodan answered. “Since then I have been touring the northern realms, ensuring that the pieces fall into their proper place.”

  “What does that mean?” Raea asked.

  The priest paused, smiling at Raea, giving the girl suspicions that he would ignore or dodge her question. “Tell me, have you met the prince yet?” he asked, confirming those suspicions.

  Raea stared at him. “How do you keep knowing this shit?”

  “He is one of the pieces,” Wodan gave as an answer, unhelpful as it was.

  “What, am I one of the pieces too?” Raea questioned, her nostrils flaring with her annoyance. “Think I’m going to turn into a phoenix of something?” she added, thinking back to Cian’s vision.

  Father Wodan half-turned away from Raea, allowing her to see his blind eye in profile. He took a deep breath, seeming to be deep in contemplation.

  “Possibly, but perhaps you won’t,” he said after a moment.

  “Look, say something that makes sense or shut up!” Raea exclaimed, exasperated, before turning away and shaking her head in disgust.

  At this moment the door to the merchant house opened, with Cian stepping outside. “Did you say something?” he asked Raea.

  “What?” the girl responded, trying to regain her bearings after the Varathian’s sudden arrival. “I was just…” she began as she turned towards Father Wodan, only to find that the priest was no longer there. She walked to the corner of the building and, for a moment, thought she saw the tail of a black robe disappearing into a crowd. But there was no further sign of the priest.

  “What the hell?” she asked aloud when she saw no sign of Wodan.

  “Something the matter, girl?” Cian questioned.

  Raea shook her head as she turned back to face the Varathian. “Um, no, it’s nothing. Just thought I recognized someone.”

  “Well, if you’re done with that, we’re leaving first thing in the morning,” Cian said.

  “Wait, that soon?” Raea asked.

  “Yes, Amir wants his ship back as soon as possible,” Cian answered. “We’ll sleep on Cedric’s ship and set out at earliest light.”

  “I guess we’re heading to the harbor then,” Raea said.

  “That’s right,” Cian confirmed. “Come, Cedric will meet us there. We’ll be on the shores of Artimax before you know it.”