The simple pleasantry got a suspicious look and narrowed eyes in response. Apparently, Maeve had left quite an impression on the locals. That girl had been a real piece of work.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Nauja said, her tone carefully neutral. She turned to Carlos and inclined her head in something resembling politeness, only a lot stiffer. “Wizard Ramirez. We have heard of you, even here. You have done much for one so young.”
Carlos gave her his easy, confident grin. “Just wait until I’m old enough to get my driver’s license.”
Nauja stared at him for a second and then looked down sharply, her cheeks turning a few shades pinker. Not that I could really blame her. Carlos was pretty darned cute, and he could kiss. My lips tingled faintly in memory, and I folded my arms so that I could rub at my mouth unobtrusively.
Maybe three minutes later, the door to the fish market opened and candlelight shone weakly out into the foul weather of the night. Nauja rose immediately and walked inside. There was a young man about her age waiting inside, wearing a heavy flannel robe. He had another one waiting, and wrapped it around her shoulders carefully before nodding to us and standing aside so that we could enter.
We went in, and the young man shut the door behind us. It took a couple of seconds for our eyes to adjust to the low candlelight, and then I saw why the Miksani were so upset.
They were in the middle of a funeral.
A dead man of middle years, resembling Nauja enough to be her father or uncle, lay on a table in the middle of the room. He was dressed in a mix of practical modern clothing and native garb, maybe sealskin, richly decorated in beads and ivory. His hands were folded on his chest, and a bone knife or spearhead of some kind lay beneath them. Nauja and her male counterpart took up positions on either side of a woman of middle age who stood beside the body, her expression drawn with grief. The three of them stared at me expectantly.
Carlos stepped close enough to me that he was almost touching. His hip bumped mine deliberately, and he looked up at the rafters of the little market building.
Dozens of bright eyes were staring down at us. I couldn’t tell how many cormorants lurked in the rafters, but they were everywhere, and waiting with the silent patience of predators.
I dragged my eyes from them back to the elder woman facing me. “I am Molly, the new Winter Lady,” I said in what I hoped was a respectful, quiet tone. “I’ve come for the tribute.”
“I am Aluki,” said the woman in a quiet voice. She gestured toward the bier. “This is my husband, Tupiak. We sent to you for help years ago.”
“I take it no help came,” I said.
Aluki stared at me. Nauja looked like she wanted to fling herself on me and rip my eyes out.
“Well, the problem has been addressed, and now I’m here,” I said. “Let’s set things straight.”
“What do you know of our troubles?” Aluki said.
“I know they’re on the Betsy Lee,” I said.
Nauja’s eyes suddenly became huge and black, and she all but quivered in place.
Carlos stepped between us and nodded respectfully. “Elder Aluki, I am Warden Ramirez of the White Council of Wizardry. We’ve been made aware of difficulties in this place. I’m here to help. If I can be of service in restoring balance to the Miksani, I will be glad to do so.”
Aluki inclined her head to Carlos. “We are not a wealthy people, Warden. I cannot ask for your help.”
Of course not. The Miksani were of Winter, and the Fae never gave or accepted gifts or services without equal recompense. The scales of obligation had to remain balanced at all times.
“You need not,” Carlos responded. “I’ve come to a bargain with Lady Molly, who has already offered payment on your behalf.”
Oh, that was an excellent gesture on Carlos’s part. And it worked. Aluki gave me another glance, one more thoughtful, before she nodded.
“My predecessor,” I said, “failed to make me aware of her obligations before she passed. Please tell me how Winter may assist you.”
“No,” Nauja hissed, surging toward me.
Aluki stopped the younger Miksani with a lifted hand, her eyes on me. Then she said, “Our enemy has arisen from the deeps and taken mortal shells. Each season, they take some of our number.”
“Take?” Carlos asked. He nodded toward the dead Miksani. “Like that?”
Aluki shook her head and spoke in a level, weary tone. “The enemy has power. Our people survive by hiding among the mortals. Few of us are warriors. Only Tupiak, Nauja, and Kunik had the power to challenge the enemy. They tried to rescue those who had been taken. They failed. My husband was wounded and did not survive.”
“Your enemy has captives?” I asked. “Right now?”
She nodded and said, “On the ship, belowdecks. While they are captive, there will be no tribute.”
“Well, then,” I said. I exchanged a glance with Carlos. He gave me a wolfish grin and nodded. I nodded back and said to Aluki, “The Warden and I are going to go get them out of there.”
She lifted her chin. “You can do this?”
“I can,” I said. “I will.”
There was a low thrum in the air as I spoke the words, and I felt something go click somewhere in my head. I had just made a promise.
And Winter kept its promises.
Aluki stared at me for a moment, then sagged, bowed her head, and nodded. “Very well.”
“Your people who were taken,” I said, “how will I know them?”
Nauja bared her teeth and spoke with her jaw clenched. “They took our children.”
“GOD, I LOVE hero work,” Carlos said as we stepped back out into the storm. “No murky grey area, no anguished questions, no conflicting morality. Bad guys took some kids, and we’re gonna go get ’em out.”
“Right?” I asked him, and nodded. “This must be what my dad felt, all the time.”
“Knights of the Cross never have any missions they question?” Carlos asked.
“I think they get a different kind of question,” I said. “For Dad, it was always about saving everyone. Not just the victims. He had to try for the monsters, too.”
“Weird,” Carlos said.
“Not so weird,” I said. “Maybe if someone had offered a hand to the monsters, they wouldn’t have become monsters in the first place. You know?”
“I don’t,” Carlos said. “Maybe I’ve seen too many monsters.” He settled his weapons belt a little more comfortably on his hips and wrapped himself up in his cloak again. “Or too many victims. I don’t know.”
Our steps crunched in the sleet, and between that and the rattle of more sleet and the crash of waves on the shore, I almost didn’t hear his next words.
“About six months into the war,” he said, “I was carrying pliers with me, so that I could take vampire teeth as trophies. That was how much I hated them.”
I didn’t say anything. Carlos, like a lot of the other young Wardens of the Council, had been baptized in fire. Harry had spoken of it once while doing his best to shield me from the war. He’d felt horrible leading a team of children, as he saw it, into a vicious conflict between the White Council and the Red Court:
I feel like I’m putting them through a meat grinder. Even if they come home in one piece.
“You hated them. And then they were gone,” I said.
“Poof,” Carlos said. “War over.” He shook his head. “Odium interruptus. And then it was supposed to be back to business as usual again. Just supposed to move on. Only I never quite figured out how. And half the bunks in the barracks were empty.”
“Part of you misses it,” I said.
His lips tightened, though it wasn’t a smile. “I miss the certainty,” he said. “I miss how tight I was with the squad. The rest I can mostly do without.” He glanced at me and then away. “The Wardens’ job isn’t always simple. Or clean. I’ve done things I’m not proud of.”
“Haven’t we all?” I said.
We walked in silence for a few steps. Then he said, “Once we get these kids clear, I want to kiss you again.”
My tummy did a little happy cartwheel, and my heart sped up to keep it company. “Oh yeah? What if I don’t want to?”
He gave me a very direct, very intense look. His eyes were dark and hot and bold.
“You want to,” he said.