Of Sea and Shadow (The Elder Empire: Sea Book 1) (25 page)

“I think you’re living better than I am,” Calder said, and laughed weakly. His palms were wet, his heart racing.

Rojric smiled broadly, leaning back in his chair. “Yes, I suspect I am. Better than I ever did on the street, I’m sure.”

This time, they laughed together.

“How are they treating you here?” Calder asked, waving his hand to encompass the facility behind him. “Is everything...okay.”

Rojric chuckled. “Oh, better than okay. Regular meals, plenty to read, excellent medical care. I feel better than I have in my entire life.”

Calder relaxed. Suddenly, the whole plan to break him out of prison seemed silly, like the games of children. When the receptionist had turned him away so many times, he had invented dark and ominous reasons, creating a fiction that his mind was more than willing to accept.

The whole time, his father had been up here reading and exercising.

Calder sat back on the bed, facing his father. “I’ve been living with Mother, you know.”

Rojric didn’t seem surprised; Calder supposed someone in the prison must have told him. “I’m glad to hear it, son. She’s a wonderful woman. Everything is going well for you, then?”

Prison must have done a miracle on his father, to have him calling Alsa ‘wonderful.’ At most, he would have grudgingly called her ‘professional.’

“As well as can be expected,” Calder said. “I, ah...I found a new job. I’m a Watchman now. With the Blackwatch. You know, the Guild.”

This was the news he had most dreaded breaking to his father. Rojric hated the Guilds, didn’t trust them, and the Blackwatch was the most suspicious of all. But this new Rojric, softened by prison, might actually be pleased.

And pleased he was; he positively beamed at his son. “Such good news! You’ve got such a promising career at such a young age. And you’ll be able to serve the Emperor, the light and life of our Empire.”

Calder examined his father carefully, searching for any sign of irony. “You approve, then?”

“Of course! Why would I not? A good, steady income and a chance to serve the Emperor is all I could want for my son!”

Something was wrong here. Were they being watched? Was that why his father was playing the Good Imperial Citizen all of a sudden?

He lowered his voice, just in case. “Father. You once told me that the Empire would be better off eating itself alive than dying slowly under this Elderspawned excuse for a ruler.”

Rojric chuckled again. “No, that doesn’t sound like me.”

Calder’s suspicions bloomed to full-blown alarm. Reaching out to the reading-desk, he placed his hand on the stack of books.

Rojric is in pain, he’s sweating, the walls are closing in, and he has to escape. Maybe if he uses the book, he can break the window and leap into the bay. Break, window! BREAK!

Calder jerked his hand away, already gasping for breath at the brief contact.

Rojric peered at him, brow furrowed in worry. “Are you feeling all right, son? We could call a doctor. They have an excellent medical staff here, you know.”

He grabbed the quilt.

Rojric twists the quilt in his fists, braiding it into a rope. If he kills himself quickly, they won’t be able to hurt him anymore. “No more shots,” he silently begs. “Kill me quickly.”

His father’s pain and fear blazed in Calder, burning away his doubts and worries for himself.

“Two days ago,” he began, suddenly resolute. “I was working out in the harbor. I saw at least five prisoners open a window and plunge to their deaths on the rocks below. Why would they do that, Father?”

Rojric’s smile suddenly looked as though it had been painted on, as fake as the receptionist’s. “How should I know, son?”

Calder pointed at the window overlooking Candle Bay. “If I opened that window, right now, would you jump out?”

His father froze. “You can’t open that window, Calder. It doesn’t open. It
never
opens.”

Calder walked over and placed his hands on the window as though to open it. “I’m a Reader, remember? I can open it. But only if you want me to. Only if you want to jump out. Do you? Do you want to jump out?”

Rojric choked out a single word past a frozen, paralyzed smile. “Yes.”

Calder gathered his father into an embrace, fighting back tears. At that moment, if he could have planted an alchemical charge and blown the whole prison to rubble, he would have lit the fuse with a smile on his face.

Hesitantly, weakly, Rojric wrapped his arms around his son.

~~~

The cell door was locked, but Calder opened it anyway.

Two security guards hurried down the hall as he walked away, but he just ignored them and they ran past, inspecting the door to see what had gone wrong with the lock. Rojric didn’t make a fuss or try to escape. In fact, Calder heard him chatting pleasantly with the guards from back in his cell.

When he reached the receptionist, he placed the copper bell back on her desk. “I found my own way back.”

“That was against facility procedure,” she said, smiling.

Calder placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward until he was almost nose-to-nose with her. He expected her to back up. She didn’t. “I have a hypothetical situation for you. What if, when I came back, I
burned this place to the ground?”

Her smile didn’t crack. “In that case, I would be forced to call security.”

Suddenly, the whole scene twisted in his mind—the smiling receptionist became the receptionist who
had
to smile. She literally couldn’t make any other expression.

“What did they do to you?” he asked, hoping for a frown, for an expression of confusion to break through her mask.

The smile remained, strong and steady. “We have excellent medical care at this facility.”

Calder nodded.
Of course.
He wasn’t sure what else he’d expected.

Maybe that was just another scripted response, or maybe she had been trying to tell him what happened, in her own way.

It didn’t matter, he supposed. If he had his way, he would leave this prison as nothing more than a hole in the ground. It didn’t deserve to exist.

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN

Alsa stood on the outside of the table, watching the meeting between the Guild Heads, the future Emperor, and her son.

It wasn’t her place to speak—she was meant to keep an eye on Bliss, and to translate for her if she said anything particularly strange. But it was getting harder and harder to keep her peace.

Why wasn’t Bliss saying anything else?

Naberius, in his red suit, rose to his feet and bowed toward the door. “Well, Captain Marten, Quartermaster, I’m sure you have many preparations to make. Please, don’t let me keep you.”

Andel was a difficult man to read, but Alsa knew him well enough to notice the way his mouth tightened. He didn’t like Naberius, and he wasn’t happy with being dismissed. That attitude would not serve him if Naberius actually did ascend to the throne.

Calder, on the other hand, smiled widely. “Of course.” He dipped his head toward each member of the council in turn. “Guild Heads. Naberius. Mother.”

She had stayed quiet long enough. Alsa opened her mouth to speak, but found that Bliss had twisted around on her bench to stare her Blackwatch Commander in the eyes.

Alsa hesitated, and then Calder was gone.

Naberius continued, turning to Cheska. “Captain Bennett, you have served us well as host. Now I have a few tasks for you.”

She folded her arms. “Do you, now?”

“Trust me, I don’t have you doing anything that you wouldn’t do on your own. First, you must...”

While the Chronicler spoke, Alsa leaned down to speak in her Guild Head’s ear. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

“I implied that his wife may be alive, and that he should check for himself. I’m sure he got the message.”

“You didn’t tell him about the void transmission. That there is a member of the Sleepless on that island, that they’re in contact with the rest of their cult, and so it’s probably his wife.”

Bliss drifted her hand through the air, as though she were tracing invisible waves. “It’s all implied.”

“With all due respect, Guild Head, no it isn’t.”

“Is that so? Hm. I will look for an opportunity to clarify, then.”

Naberius was still talking to Cheska. The Navigator didn’t seem too happy—Alsa had seen her smile while throwing a man overboard, and now she was scowling. Everyone was far enough away that they shouldn’t overhear, and they probably wouldn’t bother listening to Alsa anyway, but she lowered her voice so that even Bliss would have trouble hearing her from an inch away.

“And what about Naberius? He’s obviously in thrall to Nakothi. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bliss raised a single finger into the air, staring at it as though it contained all the secrets of the universe. “Not in thrall. Not yet. Close to it, though.”

“That’s even worse than the old Emperor! With him, we would have had a few years left, and then now what? Weeks?”

“Anyone on the throne is better than no one,” Bliss said simply. “If he can stall the Elders for a week, then that’s a week we didn’t have before. We can always replace him.”

“Unless they finish the process, and he’s all they need.”

“Don’t be silly. Naberius isn’t strong enough for that.”

The future Emperor had fallen silent, and Cheska was missing. Bliss, of course, hadn’t bothered to lower her voice—the whole room heard what she’d said.

Alsa resisted the urge to cover her face with a hand, instead straightening her coat and trying to look as disciplined as possible.

Naberius’ handsome smile had an edge to it. “Commander Grayweather, I’m sure you’d like to have a few words with your son before he returns to his ship. You’re dismissed.”

A perfect opportunity. Now Alsa could warn Calder about Naberius, and about the void transmission from the island. She bowed to Naberius and turned to walk out of the room.

A small, pale hand rested on her arm. “I’d rather she stay,” Bliss said softly.

It could be frustrating, working directly with Bliss—the Guild Head often decided to follow whatever whim popped into her head, without reason or explanation, and Alsa was simply expected to adapt. So for a moment, Alsa couldn’t see past her irritation.

She had
just
explained that she needed to talk to Calder. It was even Guild business! And now Bliss didn’t want her to leave?

Then Alsa noticed something: Jarelys Teach and Mekendi Maxeus were staying at the table, as though they had no intention of moving.
He’s dismissing the people he doesn’t need,
she realized.

What business did he have to discuss with three of his four supporting Guild Heads, and no one else?

Maybe this was one of those occasions where Bliss actually
did
know what she was doing.

Naberius clapped his hands together. “Right, then. General Teach, would you remove Commander Grayweather from the room?”

Teach hesitated, looking to the Blackwatch Head.

Bliss smiled just a little. “I’d rather she
stay
.”

General Teach turned back to her future Emperor, her spine ramrod-straight even in her seat. “I will do as you command. But if the Guild Head resists, then this whole ship would be in danger.”

Naberius’ smile had vanished, and he gestured to Maxeus. “It’s two against one.”

“That won’t matter if we’re all at the bottom of the ocean.”

Bliss began tracing designs on the table with her finger, doodling invisible figure eights.

A bead of sweat traced its way down Alsa’s cheek. If three Guild Heads came to blows...Teach was right, the ship wouldn’t survive. Even
The Testament,
anchored two dozen yards away, would be in danger. She had to make sure that didn’t happen, even if it meant playing into Naberius’ hand by missing the meeting. But Bliss wanted her there...

She was spared the decision when Naberius threw up his hands. “Fine then, Commander Grayweather can stay. It would have been easier had she just cooperated, but it’s no matter. Make sure she stays under control.”

Alsa’s stomach sank. There were only a few reasons she could think of that Naberius wouldn’t want her specifically to hear the contents of this meeting, and most of them revolved around Calder.

Sure enough, Naberius adopted a commanding pose, leaning one hand on the table and pointing the other at the General. “Load as many Guards onto
The Testament
as you can. Get the crew on deck, and then execute them.”

Alsa’s stomach was sucked into the void, and it left her feeling empty. She had stayed away from Calder for most of his life, and spent much of that time angry with him. But this was her
son
. And it made no sense.

Maxeus adjusted his mask, uncomfortable. “Why wait? Why not kill him now?”

“I agree,” Teach said. “Make this an official execution, and let me take care of it right now.”

Naberius’ fists tightened. “If you plan on following my orders in the future, then now would be an excellent time to start. I don’t trust Captain Bennett any more than Captain Marten. Let me remind you all that she is a Soulbound, and we are all riding on her Vessel.”

“It seems to me that she will put the pieces together when she
sees
us gunning down her ally,” Maxeus said.

“And what will she do then? Rescue their corpses?” Naberius waved a hand through the air. “I’ve given her an explanation, and orders that will prevent her from acting until it’s too late. We can clarify afterwards.”

General Teach glowered at the table. “I will keep Captain Bennett under control, but I don’t like risking you in this.” She turned her glare on Naberius. “Let them sail off alone, and I will follow on my Windwatcher. I will kill them all in a day or two.”

Alsa’s instincts screamed for her to pull her saber and cut her way free from the room, but she would die before her sword cleared its sheath.

Instead, she spoke. “Please, I must know why.”

The Chronicler looked to Bliss, as if to say,
“You see? This is why I wanted her to leave.”

“He has proven repeatedly that he will not follow me or my orders, and I suspect he will turn on me as soon as circumstances allow. I’m simply minimizing risk.”