I continued staring at Khaemezra. “I don’t think so. If you didn’t want Teraeth to reveal the safe passage, you could’ve shut him up. We’re going where you want us to go.”
The old woman smiled. “Clever child. You’re wondering: Is Relos Var truly responsible for the kraken behind us, or did I summon it? Is this all a ruse to convince the Captain to willingly change course and take us directly to where we want to go? Will I sacrifice all these people for a quicker, untraceable passage?”
I swallowed. She hit all the right points.
“You couldn’t! If we lose the ship—!” Tyentso’s voice started to rise, but Khaemezra gestured to her and her speech stopped. I couldn’t tell if she had used magic or simple intimidation. Khaemezra’s gaze never left me, but I found it difficult to meet her stare.
“Will you?” I finally whispered. “Will you let them all die?”
“What do you think?” she asked.
I remembered what I knew about Thaena. I remembered the look on Teraeth’s face as he stared down at the slaves in the hold. I remembered Khaemezra’s concern when I almost died because of the gaesh. I would’ve thought cultists of a death goddess more callous, but they defied my attempts to pin them with an easy label.
“No, I don’t think you’d let them die here,” I finally said, “but that doesn’t mean you didn’t call in the kraken. You’d do it if you thought you could free those slaves.”
“So now a kraken is a weapon of emancipation?” The corner of her mouth twitched upward. “I must admit I’ve never heard that one before. But I didn’t do it, and I believe Relos Var did. You may choose to doubt me, but it remains the truth.”
“That puts us right back at being destroyed by the kraken, devoured by the Maw, or dashed apart on the shoals of the Desolation.”
“You forgot about the Old Man,” Tyentso added. “She hasn’t explained that one yet.”
“Pray I never have to.” The old vané woman turned to me. “You want to help? Watch my son’s back. When things go wrong, someone will try something stupid. He’s going to need to keep his concentration.”
“Wouldn’t you do a better job of that? I don’t even have a weapon.”
“Tyentso and I will be directing our energies to keeping the ship intact as it suffers forces far beyond its normal capacity to endure,” Khaemezra said. “You may not have mastered all the skills that are your birthright, but the ability to pass unnoticed is very much your own. I suggest you make that the key to your goals.” She pushed a dagger into my hands. “And now you are a man with a knife. Woe to the Empire.”
As I turned to leave, I looked over at the ocean water and frowned. Khaemezra saw my expression and turned as well.
“It begins,” she said.
Tyentso made a whimpering sound, and moved toward the stairs. Khaemezra grabbed her arm.
“Be strong, daughter,” she told Tyentso. “I am with you this day.” Then, to me: “Go, while you still can.”
We sailed on the lazy edge of what looked like a slick of oil. The perfectly smooth water was shiny as glass and stretched for three hundred feet. Everything looked serene and safe and calm.
Then a rumbling noise filled the air. The center of the slick erupted in a column of thrashing steam and water. When the water spilled back down, it sank as though draining through the bottom of the world. In seconds we were staring at three hundred feet of spinning gyre, a maelstrom of ocean water spilling down into unfathomable darkness.
We rode on the edge, balanced on the precipice of a cliff. The ship listed, staying in place by what magic—hmm … now that I think about it, I’m sure I do know by what magic. The Misery sailed faster than row or sail could account, racing along at unholy speed.
The crew couldn’t help seeing this. They were silent for a moment before shouts and cries and even orders to help were drowned by the scream of the whirlpool.
I looked around. No one was in a blind panic yet, and Teraeth could handle himself. It would be a while yet before the chaos transformed into screaming frenzy—likely when the crew realized this was a minor “fang” and not the Throat itself.
There was one other detail I wanted to take care of first.
16: THE GENERAL’S REWARD
(Talon’s story)
Kihrin skipped saying goodbye to Surdyeh, although his thoughts were on his father the entire time he navigated the winding streets to the Upper Circle. Under other circumstances, Surdyeh would have been overflowing with supposedly helpful advice on how to behave around nobility. Under other circumstances, Surdyeh would have lectured endlessly on etiquette in his quest to ensure his son’s future as a musician. This always struck Kihrin as hypocritical, when Surdyeh knew perfectly well his success in the Revelers Guild depended on a magical aptitude that the old man refused to let his son legally pursue.*
And Surdyeh had offered no advice for his son except “Don’t go.”
Kihrin never once considered that Surdyeh and Ola’s reasons for keeping him from this meeting might have been legitimate. All he could see was he’d been given a chance: a chance to impress Morea, a chance to win a reward gained on his own merits instead of his father’s, and a chance to shake off the curse of a demon he was sure still hunted him. A chance to escape Velvet Town and the Lower Circle forever.
Besides, he was curious.
The night air cooled the wildfire temperatures left over from the Quuros summer day. The rainbow scintillation of Tya’s Veil and the soft glow of all three moons lit the sky. The shadows staggered over the whitewashed cobblestones like drunk men more afraid of coming home to their wives than the dangers of passing out in an alley. At night, the streets of Velvet Town were more crowded than during the day; this was an entertainment district after all, and not one where the customers wished to be recognized. Sallí cloaks paraded silently, with hoods up—a field of muddy phantoms making the rounds from home to brothel and back again.