Lila rolled her eyes and went to help the men haul more chests ashore. A couple of hands would stay with the Spire, while the rest took up at an inn. The cart loaded, Alucard presented his papers to a guard in gleaming armor, and Lila let her gaze wander over the other ships. Some were intricate, others simple, but all were, in their way, impressive.
And then, two boats down, she saw a figure descend from an Arnesian rig. A woman. And not the kind Lila knew to frequent ships. She was dressed in trousers and a collarless coat, a sword slung on a belt at her waist.
The woman began to make her way down the dock toward the Spire, and there was something animal about the way she moved. Prowled. She was taller than Lila, taller than Alucard for that matter, with features as pointed as a fox’s and a mane—there was no better word for it—of wild auburn hair, large chunks not braided exactly but twisted around themselves so she looked half lion and half snake. Perhaps Lila should have felt threatened, but she was too busy being awestruck.
“Now there’s a captain not to cross,” Alucard whispered in her ear.
“Alucard Emery,” said the woman when she reached them. Her voice had a slight sea rasp, and her Arnesian was full of edges. “Haven’t seen you on London land in quite a while. Here for the tournament, I assume.”
“You know me, Jasta. Can’t turn down the chance to make a fool of myself.”
She chuckled, a sound like rusted bells. “Some things never change.”
He flashed a mock frown. “Does that mean you won’t be betting on me?”
“I’ll see if I can spare a few coins,” she said. And with that, Jasta continued on, weapons chiming like coins.
Alucard leaned on Lila. “Word of advice, Bard. Never challenge that one to a drinking contest. Or a sword fight. Or anything you might lose. Because you will.”
But Lila was barely listening. She couldn’t tear her gaze from Jasta as the woman stalked away down the docks, a handful of wolfish men falling in step behind her.
“I’ve never seen a female captain.”
“Not many in Ames proper, but it’s a big world,” said Alucard. “It’s more common where she’s from.”
“And where’s that?”
“Jasta? She’s from Sonal. Eastern side of the empire. Up against the Veskan edge, which is why she looks …”
“Larger than life.”
“Exactly. And don’t you go looking for a new rig. If you’d pulled the stunt you did to get onto her ship, she would have cut your throat and dumped you overboard.”
Lila smiled. “Sounds like my kind of captain.”
*
“Here we are,” said Alucard when they reached the inn.
The name of the place was Is Vesnara Shast, which translated to The Wandering Road. What Lila didn’t know, not until she saw Lenos’s unease, was that the Arnesian word for road—shast—was the same as the word for soul. She found the alternate name a bit unsettling, and the inn’s atmosphere did nothing to ease the feeling.
It was a crooked old structure—she hadn’t noticed, in her short time in Red London last fall, that most of the buildings felt new—that looked like boxes stacked rather haphazardly on top of each other. It actually reminded her a bit of her haunts back in Grey London. Old stones beginning to settle, floors beginning to slouch.
The main room was crammed with tables, each of which in turn was crammed with Arnesian sailors, and most appeared well in their cups, despite the fact it was barely sundown. A single hearth burned on the far wall, a wolfhound stretched in front, but the room was stuffy from bodies.
“Living the life of luxury, aren’t we?” grumbled Stross.
“We’ve got beds,” said Tav, ever the optimist.
“Are we sure about that?” asked Vasry.
“Did someone replace my hardened crew with a bunch of whining children?” chided Alucard. “Shall I go find you a teat to gnaw on, Stross?”
The first mate grumbled but said nothing more as the captain handed out the keys. Four men to a room. But despite the cramped quarters, and the fact that the inn looked like it was far exceeding capacity, Alucard had managed to snare a room of his own.
“Captain’s privilege,” he said.
As for Lila, she was bunked with Vasry, Tav, and Lenos.
The group dispersed, hauling their chests up to their chambers. The Wandering Road was, as the name suggested, wandering, a tangled mess of halls and stairs that seemed to defy several laws of nature at once. Lila wondered if there was some kind of spell on the inn, or if it was simply peculiar. It was the kind of place where you could easily get lost, and she could only imagine it got more confusing as the night and drink wore on. Alucard called it eccentric.
Her room had four bodies, but only two beds.
“This’ll be cozy,” said Tav.
“No,” said Lila in decisive, if broken, Arnesian. “I don’t share beds—”
“Tac?” teased Vasry, dropping his chest on the floor. “Surely we can work something ou—”
“—because I have a habit of stabbing people in my sleep,” she finished coolly.
Vasry had the decency to pale a little.
“Bard can have a bed,” said Tav. “I’ll take the floor. And Vasry, what are the odds of you actually spending your nights here with us?”