The way how that bandit leader stepped over the water makes me envious. I don’t have any rune to improve my mobility. Can I design something to imitate him? I have no idea how he even did it. Did he make himself less dense? Probably not. He also didn’t freeze the water like the Guard Captain. Did he increase the surface tension of the water somehow? I have no idea how to create such an effect with my rune components. If it is that, there is nothing I can do.

  What else could it be? What if he stepped on the air?

  I am an idiot. A sudden thought strikes me like a spark on a dry tinder. My breath hitches. I can feel my pulse hammering in my veins.

  I should be able to step on one of my active shields. Of course.

  My fingers tighten around my notebook. How did I not think of this earlier?

  I scan the ship’s deck. No one is looking at me. No one is close enough to ask me uncomfortable questions about what I am doing. Well, it is not like my tattoos are a secret. But I would like to keep the extent of my abilities under wrap.

  The nobles are watching a group of pink dolphins jumping over the shimmering river under the golden light of the rising sun. Dolphins? What? What are they doing in a river? I thought they were creatures of the ocean. Whatever, don’t get distracted.

  I open my notebook, nearly ripping out a page by accident. Where is my non-magical ink? Here it is. I start to sketch furiously.

  A sphere will be useless. I need a plane, a circular plane. And I need to orientate it horizontally to the ground to be able to step on it. Or maybe not. If I project it perpendicularly to the bottom of my feet, I won’t slip if I step at an angle. It could even let me modify the direction of my movement mid-air with a bit of practice. What else do I need for my future air step rune? Efficiency. I should adjust the size to the minimum required to step on.

  Shit! More runes to draw on or close to my feet. I’ll probably have to choose between using them or my shock absorber runes. I could replace those. Airstepping should let me interrupt my fall, too. Or I could keep both, even if I can not activate them simultaneously, just in case.

  A bundle of blond hair appears beneath the deck and strolls toward us. “Hey, Lord Alexander! Did they finish interrogating the prisoner?” asks some random noble. “Did they discover what the rebels are doing here?”

  People turn towards the newcomer, forgetting about the dolphins. I close my notebook with a clap to listen in. Yuileen’s eyes dart towards me because of the noise. She smiles. Other people look at me, too. I suddenly feel exposed. I am not a part of the background anymore. But the anticipation of gossip proves stronger than the meager interest my lonely figure may stir up, and they turn back towards the blond teenager.

  He runs a hand through his disheveled hair and steps closer, dragging his boots over the wooden deck. He sighs. The nobles gather around him, their faces expectant. The air is thick with the scent of fish and algae, lingering under a quiet tension.

  Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see the dolphins still dancing through the water like spirits. A large pale one jumps out, scribing an arc, but then playfully twists mid-leap, catching the light in a pearly flash before disappearing again under the murky waters. Others follow him, weaving between each other. Their streamlined bodies flicker just above the waterline. For a moment, they all disappear into fading ripples, a sudden void, and a sensation of loss. Then, they resurface. Misty plumes rise into the humid air. Their high-pitched laughter trills over the river. One is in the process of swallowing a silver-glittering trout.

  Alexander exhales sharply, demanding back my attention. How long did he keep us waiting? Isn’t he a drama queen? Or king?

  “They broke him,” he says, his voice low but steady. A shadow crosses his face. His eyes seem a bit sunken and haunted. “It took them a while, but he cracked. Said they were looking for some artifact one of their leaders obtained but then lost in the forest by the feet of the mountain range.”

  “What kind of artifact? Something like those Thundersticks?” asks Sir Kalinich. He was the only one still watching the dolphins. Now, he turns, leaning against the railing.

  “I don’t know. He babbled something about some compass before passing out.”

  Cold sweat trickles down my spine. What? That can’t be a coincidence. But then, who is that rebel leader who supposedly lost it? Could it be the mage-baron I stole it from? Are the rebels everybody is talking about from the Solarian Kingdom? But I have never heard about something similar to those metal and fire-spitting sticks in my home city.

  Silence has settled over the group as they exchange glances. I see a glimmer of recognition in Sir Kalinich and Eliana. They choose to remain silent, though.

  Yuileen giggles. “They came all the way here for a compass. Seriously? You can get one of those everywhere.” Some nobles snicker. Sir Kalinich remains silent, his eyes darting around nervously.

  “Maybe it is some kind of family heirloom,” interjects Kamoe, stirring up the air around her face with an embroidered fan. Eliana leans back, snaps open a similar fan, and imitates her. Acting like the conversation stopped to interest her. “It may have some sort of sentimental value.”

  Yuileen snorts. “I would have never thought that rebels of all people cared about something like that.”

  “Yeah,” mutters some random noble whose name I forgot or never cared to learn. “But if it is in the forest, what were they doing here by the river?”

  “I don’t know,” answers Alexander, tying his shoulder-long hair back into a ponytail. “He said something about losing the trail and getting stranded here without a way back. And because they didn’t know what to do, they decided to stir up some trouble.” He pauses and strokes his nearly inexistent beard, like trying to remember the last details. “Said something about relieving the war front.”

  “How did they even get this far into the heart of the empire without anyone recognizing them?” asks Kamoe, snapping her fan closed.

  “You ask me, but who should I ask?”

  I carefully gaze over the crowd, trying to discern if someone could be on to me. Does anyone look at me differently? It doesn’t seem that way. Eliana and Sir Kalinich, who seem to know the compass, don’t even look my way. Maybe they only know what the compass is but not when and where it got stolen or who stole it. Or even that it was stolen.

  Could all my pursuers through that forest have been rebels? No, there were different factions, or they wouldn’t have started battling each other just because of a few missing items. If one of those groups were these rebels everybody is talking about, who were the rest? And why didn’t they start fighting as soon as they saw each other if they were at war?

  “A fisher boat!” exclaims someone. “Those triangular sails… We must be getting close to Minas Kalin!”

  “What?”

  “Finally, I can’t wait to sleep in a real bed.”

  “Ugh, yeah, ship traveling accommodations always leave to be desired.”

  “Yeah, even the servants that work at my family’s manor enjoy better sleeping conditions. My back is stiff like a board.”

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  I tune the chatter out, not caring much about this turn in their conversation. They are being ridiculous. The cabins here are bigger and more luxurious than most rooms back home in the crafting district. Maybe not more like those in the wealthy part of town, but what did they expect? It’s a ship. Space is limited. The merchant also needs it to store his wares. He may have storage rings for the most valuable cargo, but most of the bulk is too voluminous.

  “Look!” exclaims Yuileen. “You can already see the canyon. We are nearly there!” She turns towards me. Her eyes sparkle. “Mini! You said you had never been to Minas Kalin before, did you not?”

  “No?”

  “Excellent! We must take you on a tour before your relatives lock you up in their manor with all that clan business and nonsense.” She squeals and catches Kamoe and me, each by one forearm. “Come, let’s get to the front. The view when you enter the lake is amazing!”

  We walk and get dragged all over the ship in her bubbling excitement, leaving the rest of the nobles behind. What lake is she even talking about?

  For now, all there is to see are the riverbanks rising higher over the waterline, getting more abrupt. Grassland gives way to shrubs and grey granite boulders. Quartz veins glint through them under the still-rising sun.

  The carrack drifts forward, spurred on by the rhythmic beat of the oars. They are not rowing because the current got faster, but because a fresh breeze is blowing into our faces. Bare-chested men are furling the sails up so they don’t hinder our advancement. More fisherboats drift by. Some of the people on them greet us.

  The carrack advances into the hush of the canyon. The river narrows a bit, but the walls of this canyon are much further apart than those of the mountain rivers I climbed around last week. They are much higher, too. Towering stone walls rise like silent sentinels on either side, casting our passage into shadows. The once bold wind is quietening into a mere whisper that hushes the creaks of the wooden hull. The slaps of the oars echo over the waterline. The dolphins have fallen behind at some moment. Now, only salmon and armlong trout glitter under the crystal-clear waters.

  We pass a bend in the canyon, only to discover more walls and further bends. The current is increasing in intensity and laps against the wood of the ship’s prow.

  More and more shadows drape the deck as the cliffs swallow the daylight. The scars of centuries streak their face. Cave mouths yawn everywhere.

  And then, the daylight completely disappears, and we are funneled into darkness, a tunnel carved by time and water, its entrance a gaping maw in the rock.

  Suddenly, I can hear the echoes of the loud, whispering nobles because the oars have grown still. I blink. The ship is still advancing, though. The darkness gives way to flickering torches, illuminating paths carved into the stone on both sides.

  The crew moves over the ship in hushed efficiency, igniting our lanterns along the railings. Their golden glow pools across the deck as the carrack slips into the void.

  I can see how we are advancing now. Someone threw ropes from both sides, and the crew hitched them onto prepared hooks. They are used to drag us along with the help of towering beasts of burden, breathing and sweating heavily.

  The walls close in further, nearly scratching the hull. The air feels damp here, thick with the scent of manor and minerals. Echoing drops fall over the deck from the unseen heights above. Individual notes sing a song, almost like a prelude to rain.

  Then, as suddenly as we enter, the tunnel splits open into a vast, breathless expanse. A sea of blueness unfurls before us, reflecting the light into the open sky. The ropes fall off, loosened by the crew. The panting animals fall back, and the rowers start beating their oars again, but not before a group of armored people jumps onto the deck.

  “Halt!” One of them opens his visor, revealing a thin-lipped man with a bushy beard. “Documentation, please.” The ship comes to a standstill.

  What documentation? Do we need documentation? Why has nobody told me about it? Shit! Do I need to slip away? I am about to turn invisible but then stop. What if one of them is advanced enough to have that soul sense Yuileen talked about? I would even stand out more. I blink. Why has none of the nobles moved? Kamoe is leaning against the railing. Her eyes seem lost on the emerald green slopes and meadows that cover the shore. Yuileen hops around impatiently, acting as if all this is just a nuisance that has nothing to do with her, a waste of time. Maybe they mean the ship’s documentation, a merchant’s permit, or a list of the cargo we carry. It would be ridiculous for people to have individualized documentation like we were property or something. Right?

  The merchant stumbles closer, nearly falling over, trying to match the fast-paced steps of our guard captain that accompanies him.

  “Ander?” asks the thin-lipped sentry. “Shouldn’t you lot have arrived days ago?”

  “We encountered some troubles that delayed us,” answers our guard captain. He leans closer and whispers something into the other man’s ears.

  “Shit!” swears the thin-lipped man. A shadow seems to fall over his face. I’ll need to go to report that.” He turns around to address the rest of the men he brought up onto our ship. “Let them through. They are on the list and cleared for passage anyway. It’s the merchant’s carrack of Count Avonia’s fleet. The one that was missing.” He turns in our direction and dips an imaginary hat. “Ladies.”

  Some crew members unfurl the sails again to catch the playful breeze and give our rowers more time to rest their tired muscles.

  We zigzag into the ribbons of mist that curl lazily over the open water of the lake's center.

  Suddenly, we are through, and my mouth falls wide open. There is a city, the mother of all cities. Rows after rows of white-washed buildings rise from the shoreline to the heights of the mountains surrounding the lake.

  Yuileen giggles. Our eyes meet. “It’s incredible. Right?” I clap my mouth shut. “They say that eight million people live in Minas Kalin.”

  “What?” I blink and step back, trying to process what she just said. How can so many people live in the same place?

  “It’s the third biggest city of the empire,” adds Kamoe. “And in my opinion, the most beautiful one. The Emperor’s summer palace is here. And a lot of other incredible manors and ancient monuments.”

  And there are even bigger ones? How? More people live in just this city than in the whole Solarian Kingdom. What are those rebels thinking about? If we Solarians are the rebels that everyone talks about. Wait! She said the Emperor lived here too or something like that, didn’t she? I don’t need to meet him, thank you. Powerful figures can bring trouble to you on a whim. Where in the seven hells does my compass point at? My fingers itch, eager to take it out and check. But I need to find some privacy first. There is no privacy anywhere close by. Hundreds of other ships welcome us into the docks.

  Yuileen has decided to drag us into a bustling market street that I absolutely need to know, in her opinion.

  My eyes fall upon a pair of street rats weaving through the crowd, cutting purses with practiced dexterity. They stay clear of our group, wary of the towering guards Captain Ander sent with us.

  My usual role may have reversed, but this place still feels familiar. Even though the sheer size of the market is a bit overwhelming. It hums with life, a sprawling maze of colorful tents and noisy crowds pressed between the towering buildings of the city. The sharp tang of spices hangs thick in the air, mingling with the scents of fresh bread and roasting meat. Merchants bellow their wares. Their haggling voices rise over the chorus of inane chatter and laughter.

  Yuileen drags us through the chaos with a practiced air of confidence, lifting her silken skirt just enough to avoid the grease stains and rests of fruit covering some cobblestones. We cut through the crowd like the ship we just left did through the churning waters of the river.

  “Come, I know an artificer on the other side of the market who incorporates his creations into stunning jewelry.”

  “Are you looking for jewels, fine ladies?” Some merchant has listened in and is now trying to divert our attention to his wares, waving at them with his arms. “I have gold and silver filigree. Every piece is unique, the work of a real dwarf. Rings and necklaces with finely carved sapphires and emeralds. They would look great with your eyes, young lady.”

  Yuileen scoffs. “As if.”

  “He does have a point,” interjects Kamoe. These gems have the same color as your eyes.” She runs her hand through a mountain of stones and trinkets, letting them fall between her fingers. Then she smirks. “But I think they are just colored glass.”

  “No touching,” cries the merchant, wobbling closer. “What? Glass? Baseless slander! I say. If you are not buying, move on, or I will call the guards.”

  Yuileen snickers and casts the merchant a dazzling smile, looking over his shoulder. The man turns around and comes face to face with one of our fully armored and towering guardians. His mouth gaps open, then he looks at us, making the connection, and it falls closed again.

  “I mean. Stay as long as you like and check my wares, your Grace.” With an agility belying his stubby legs, he shrinks back into the shadow of his stall.

  “Come on, stop dawdling,” grumbles Yuileen. “There is nothing useful to find in this market sector.”

  Kamoe laughs and plucks a ripe, orange-pink peach from a basket, tossing a coin to the vendor. “Okay, but why the hurry?”

  “There is so much to see, and we don’t know how much time Mini will have with all the stuff going on in her family.”

  I suddenly freeze. Just a few paces away, leaning against the corner of a building, is someone who I would never expect to encounter in this place.

  “Dogface,” I mutter. How? What the heck is he doing here?

  I close my eyes, trying to dismiss his image. When I open them again, he is still there. This makes no sense! Nobody of us knew about this city or even this whole empire. What is happening? Yuileen is saying something. Her words flow in and out of my consciousness, just incomprehensible noise. Dogface winks at me. Then he steps back and disappears around the corner.

  A kid brushes against me and disappears into the crowd. I can feel a piece of paper left behind in my hand.