Of Sea and Shadow (The Elder Empire: Sea Book 1) (31 page)

Calder sputtered for a moment before he managed to say, “You know this is completely ridiculous.”

Jyrine lifted the paper and briefly scanned it. “No, I’d say that everything is in order.”

“First of all, if there’s not an Elderspawn present, why would you need to protect me?”

“That’s the first thing you object to, is it?”

“That and the name. Other than that...” Calder swallowed his pride and distaste, nodding to the paper. “In essence, I have to admit, this could work.”

She looked up, surprised. “I wrote this so that I could see you turn red.”

“Well, it needs some fleshing-out, but it’s not a bad idea. I could do without the repeated insults to my person, though.”

“I find those aspects of this plan indispensable.”

He leaned over, tracing the third step of the plan with his index finger. “From what I can tell, the receptionist has been altered to respond only as her superiors tell her to. That involves calling security in the event of an emergency. A member of the Blackwatch saying there’s an Elder loose in the building surely constitutes an emergency.”

“Won’t we need more proof?” Jerri asked.

Calder shrugged. “What signs come along with the invasion of an Elder?”

“I don’t know, screaming? Creeping shadows? Spoiling milk?”

“No one knows.” If there was anything he’d learned from his few months in the Blackwatch, it was that each Elderspawn was different. Some of the Watchmen complained about how their quarry was impossible to track, and others that the Elderspawn’s shrieks had woken everyone within three city blocks. “There’s no predicting the way an unknown Elder or Elderspawn will behave. Most people have to take the word of the Blackwatch that there’s an Elder involved at all.”

She shook the end of her pen in his direction. “If you keep talking like that, I might mistake you for a real Watchman.”

He shuddered, thinking of Bliss. “Not yet, I’m not. But if you’re wearing a Watchman’s coat and badge, they should take your word for the emergency. That’s all, though. They shouldn’t release any prisoners or do anything else without an official order from the Guild or actual proof of an Elder attack.”

“Then how do we get the cell door open?” Jerri asked. “Do we steal a key? Or can you invest something that will help?”

Calder took a deep breath. He had been prepared for this when he came here, but he couldn’t help thinking that he was taking a terrible risk.

First, he covered his fingers in a handkerchief. Then he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the Emperor’s key.

“I won’t have to.”

Skepticism was painted across Jyrine’s expression. “That’s it? Will it fit the lock?”

“It doesn’t have to. One tap, and it will undo any lock that can be opened by a key.”

The skepticism faded, but her reaction was still less than Calder had hoped for. “Oh, really? Okay, that’s one problem solved. But how are we going to get him out of the building?”

He stood with the key outstretched in his hand, feeling foolish. “This is a valuable artifact.”

“It sounds very impressive. But I would expect no less out of a Reader of your skill.”

She was obviously mocking him, but he felt better anyway.

“I know you’re patronizing me,” he said, “but I still accept flattery.” He placed the key down on the table. “Now, how are we going to get him out of the building?”

“Just a moment. If we’re going to rewrite the plan, then I need to take notes.” She pulled a blank sheet of paper out of the pile and began to write a title across the top. “How about, ‘Operation: Calder Does Nothing.’”

~~~

The next morning, Calder rose early. He buttoned up his Blackwatch coat, pinned on his badge, and brushed his hair before walking downstairs for breakfast. He had to ensure that everyone down at the docks saw him at work, acting as if everything was still normal.

Because tonight, he would break his father out of prison.

The dining room was all but empty. No Artur and Vorus, no servants carrying dishes. The table wasn’t even set. Only Alsa stood with her back to the door, hurriedly dropping a sheet over something that looked suspiciously like a birdcage.

“Calder!” she exclaimed, spinning around. “You’re up early this morning.”

She stood between him and the cage, so he leaned to the side, trying to get a clearer look. It was no good; the sheet covered the birdcage entirely. “Did you buy a bird?”

“I thought we would go out for breakfast this morning,” she said, slipping into a chair. “
The Testament
is almost finished, so we won’t have much to do. Which gives us a little while to talk.”

Calder sat across from his mother at the foot of the table. He couldn’t suppress the thrill of nerves that shot through him. Did she know? Was she going to stop him? No, if she knew anything about the Candle Bay Imperial Prison, she might even help.

All this shot through his mind before Alsa gathered herself and spoke. “It’s been almost two years since you came to live here.”

“I will, of course, expect a party.”

“And you’ve accomplished so much in that time,” she said. “Artur tells me you’re quite taken with the fundamental philosophers, and your fencing has dramatically improved. You might even win a duel or two now, so long as you stay out of the arenas.”

He straightened in his chair. “If I can beat Cheska Bennett, I’ll be happy.”

Alsa snorted. “If the Fates are kind, she’ll drown at sea. But no, my point is...well, I know you were somewhat caught up in the whims of the Guild Head, but you did end up with a position in the Blackwatch nonetheless. The other Watchmen have been quite impressed with your enthusiasm. You’ve certainly made it easier on me.”

He allowed himself a small smile, though he wanted to laugh with pride. “Soon, I’ll be doing your job for you.”

She drummed her fingers on the table. “I may be getting old, but I’m not dead.”

From within the shrouded birdcage came a voice like a crumbling tombstone: “DEAD.”

Calder jerked back, his hand going to the nails hanging inside his coat.

Alsa held up a hand to calm him. “One of the things you’ll learn, as you spend more time among the Blackwatch, is that not all Elders are the soul-devouring, grotesque monsters from the legends. Some Elderspawn creatures are just...strange. Alien to us, in biology and mentality. But not malicious.”

He left the iron spikes where they were, pointing a trembling finger at the birdcage. “Is there an Elder in there?”

“An Elderspawn, more accurately. I picked it up recently, in response to one of our more gentle summons. The Guild has already dissected a number of this species, so they were simply going to be rid of it, but I thought you might...appreciate it. To symbolize your membership in the Blackwatch, I suppose.”

Calder was having trouble taking his eyes from the cage. He thought he saw something move, beneath the sheet. “What
is
it?”

“It is what’s known as a Bellowing Horror, or more commonly, a Bellows.” She stood and, with a little bow, flipped the sheet off the birdcage.

Within the cage waited a creature so malformed and poorly assembled that it took him a few seconds to figure out which end was its head. When his eyes finally traced its contours, translating its shape to something that made sense to him, the image of the creature snapped into place like a solved puzzle.

It was scarcely a foot tall, perhaps the size of a bird, and stubby. Built along the lines of a short, fat man. Its skin was greenish-black, like the wood of
The Testament,
and it had a pair of tiny wings that looked as though they belonged on a bat. A green, hairless bat. Surely wings like that were too small to support its bulbous body, but if that were true, why had Alsa trapped it in a birdcage?

Its eyes, balls of formless black, glared at him from inside its leathery face. Its mouth was invisible or perhaps nonexistent, hidden behind a mass of squirming, wormlike tendrils. Several of those tendrils now squirmed around the bars of its cage, as though tasting or perhaps chewing on the metal.

“A Bellowing Horror,” Calder repeated, still weirdly fascinated by the beast. “Why is it called—”

“HORROR!” it bellowed, flaring its pathetic wings.

“Oh. I see.”

Alsa laid a hand on the cage, smiling fondly down. “I call him Shuffles.”

Calder couldn’t help laughing. “Shuffles? That sounds like a three-legged dog.”

“Well, he sort of...” she shuffled forward on the carpet, imitating its walk. “...shuffles along, you see? I thought it was appropriate.”

He couldn’t speak.

“And I admit that there was a cat, in my youth. Mister Shuffles.”

“Ah. And this one does not deserve an honorific?”

She leaned closer to the cage. “To tell you the truth, I’ve never been able to tell if it’s a male.”

Alsa looked at her son, Calder looked back, and they both started laughing.

Finally, Calder waved a hand in Shuffles’ direction. “Seriously, Mother, what am I supposed to
do
with it?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Many in the Blackwatch keep such pets. It’s like having a bird. I had one myself, until it fell into the bathtub and dissolved.” She hesitated, and then added, “I wouldn’t walk around with it in public, if I were you.”

“I can’t imagine I would choose to do that.”

With a flourish of her wrist, she tossed the latch on the cage. “Let’s have you two get to know each other, shall we?”

He tried to protest, but Shuffles had already pushed its way out of the door. It fluttered its wings as it jumped out of the cage, landing with a thump on the table. Its nest of tendrils quested in empty air.

Calder leaned back in his chair.

“Don’t be afraid,” Alsa said. “It can’t hurt you.” She shrugged. “At least, it hasn’t hurt anyone so far.”

She was right about the way the creature moved: it
shuffled
along the table like a child scuffing carpet, occasionally using its wings to hop a few inches closer to Calder. When it was a few feet away, close enough for him to look into the soulless black of its eyes, it leaped.

Its wings buzzed like a hummingbird’s, and it flew at his eyes.

He shrieked like a little girl, throwing up a hand to defend his eyes. It was going to eat him! Fighting a man with a sword was one thing, but this monster was flying
straight into his face!

A heavy weight settled onto his right shoulder, and something drew a wet line across his cheek. A scent blew over him, like copper and fresh fish.

When he opened his eyes a crack, he saw Shuffles staring back from half an inch away. Its tendrils worked in the air, occasionally brushing his skin.

“I think it wants to eat me,” Calder whispered.

Shuffles leaned closer to Calder’s ear, growling with the voice of a malevolent earthquake: “EEEAAAATTT.”

Alsa walked over and ruffled Calder’s hair. “See? It likes you!”

~~~

As Calder and his mother sat in the back of the carriage, rumbling down to the harbor, an uncomfortable thought lodged in his brain. It wouldn’t go away, jabbing him with every crack of the carriage wheels on the cobblestones.

What was he going to do if he failed?

If he and Jerri were caught
before
breaking his father out of prison, they probably wouldn’t see much of a penalty. At worst, it was another case of a young Watchman testing the limits of his authority, which the Guild had seen many times before.

But what if they were caught after unlocking Rojric’s cell? What if they couldn’t sneak him out of the facility?

Even if they escaped capture, it wouldn’t be hard for the Candle Bay staff to figure out what had happened. Calder had attempted to visit his father every few weeks, after all, and he would become the premier suspect in any investigation.

Of course, he had considered all that before. But now there was a new ingredient to his thoughts, a new note to his dark daydreams.

If he were caught, what would happen to his mother?

He hadn’t planned on taking his father to stay at the Grayweather house—not only would Alsa never allow it, but it would be the first place Imperial investigators would check. However, the thought didn’t bother him. Rojric Marten was perfectly capable of disguising himself, finding another place to stay.

But if Calder failed, and was caught, how much blame would fall on his mother? Would she be able to keep her position in the Guild? Would the Blackwatch itself come under scrutiny, with a crime committed by one of its members? What would Bliss do, when two of her Watchmen had disgraced her so thoroughly?

And if he succeeded, his mother would eventually find out. Would she turn him in? Would she demand that he resign his post at the Guild?

For the first time, Calder was starting to realize how little he’d actually considered about the outcome of his plan.

But it was already too late.

Jyrine would be preparing herself even now. He had his own tools, invested and designed specifically for this operation, hidden inside the carriage, disguised as materials from
The Testament.

The plan was going through, and he would free his father.

But, like a gambler who found himself trapped in a bad bet, he suddenly wondered if the stakes had risen too high.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

When they pulled up to the long stone dock on the Gray Island, three people were waiting for them.

One was a pretty Heartlander woman with a long white scar down the center of her face. She wore her hair in dozens of small braids, and she had traded in her black outfit for an elegant purple dress that wouldn’t have been out of place in the Capital. Two men, wearing the same black outfits as the Consultants on Nakothi’s island, flanked her to either side. Their mouths were covered by black cloth, and they kept their eyes fixed on the dock.

When Calder walked up to the edge of the ship, he sent a mental command to slide the ramp down. As soon as it was in place, the Consultant gave a smooth curtsy.

“Captain Calder Marten, it’s quite an honor to meet you. My name is Kerian, and I am here to facilitate your visit to the best of my ability.”