Song of the Current (Song of the Current #1)

Satisfied, I put the dagger away. “It’s Kenté.” I raised my eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve got a nose for trouble.” She pushed Markos’s blade out of her face. “And you two seem to have a boatload of it. As for how I got on board, like I said, that was easy enough. I cloaked myself in an illusion and followed you to the docks. Then I stowed away in the cargo hold.” She brushed her dress. “Which, by the way, is very full of sawdust.”

I felt somehow lighter now that she was here. It might almost have been one of our childhood adventures. Two girls, conspiring under the tented covers. Only we weren’t children anymore—the danger was real.

“We ought to put you ashore,” I told her.

She pouted. “You two look like you’re having shenanigans. And I want in.” She waggled a finger at me. “I came for the fun of it. But you’re going to keep me because I can help you.”

Curse her, she was right.

“How did you do that?” I asked. “The illusion. If you’re a shadowman, shouldn’t you only be able to work your magic at night?”

“It’s simple. If I make the illusion at night, it will last during the day. Unless I end it, like I just have.”

I noticed Markos staring at Kenté. My cousin was no prettier than me, although her dress displayed a good deal more cleavage.

I smacked him on the arm. “You might keep your eyes up here.”

“I wasn’t—” His cheeks flushed red.

“You were.”

“Maybe a little,” he muttered.

“But how did you come to realize you have shadow magic?” I asked Kenté, ignoring the sharp way her eyes darted between Markos and me.

“Something inside all of us is always calling out to the world.” She shrugged. “That’s what magic is: when something in the world calls back.”

It wasn’t an answer, but Kenté’s cryptic words sparked recognition in me. Calling out to the world was exactly what I’d been doing, only the river wasn’t saying anything back.

She went on. “I’ve been able to do little tricks as long as I can remember. I used to think I was just good at hiding, until …” A strange note came into her voice. “Three years ago I heard the god of the night call my name. Since then I’ve only gotten stronger. I can make the shadows come or go. I can see flashes of Jacaranda’s dreams when she sleeps. I’m sure I could do so much more with the proper training, but …” She sighed. “I don’t want to disappoint my parents.”

“Is there a—a school for shadowmen or something?”

“The Academy,” Markos said, rubbing his earring absently. I suspected he didn’t even notice when he was doing that. “In Trikkaia.”

I understood what Kenté had left unsaid. The Bollards hadn’t the least notion why anyone might not want to be a member of a merchant company. My cousin was expected to make an advantageous marriage and go into the family offices. Her parents weren’t likely to approve of her skipping off to a school of magic. It wasn’t that the Bollards didn’t believe in gods or magic—they were just too practical to put much stock in such things.

“Now.” She grinned. “You must tell me how you came to be mixed up with the Black Dogs.”

All at once Fee sprang to her feet, dropping the tiller. Her rubbery lips stretched into a sneer. She put me in mind of an animal with its hackles raised.

I lunged for the tiller, steadying Cormorant before she sailed into the mud. “What is it?”

She squatted on the deck, peering over the lee side, where Cormorant’s shadow made the water dark. Markos’s hand had flown to his sword hilt, while Kenté merely watched with bemused interest. My pulse pounded hot in my ears, sweat dampening my forehead. Fee would never just drop the tiller like that. Not unless something was wrong. I squinted into the river, but it was too murky.

Fee hissed at the water. “Monster,” she whispered.

Keeping a hand on the tiller, I leaned out. Nothing moved under the water.

“Her.” Fee hugged herself tight. “Her.”

“There’s nothing down there.” I reached out to touch her shoulder.

Her eyes flashed. “Not right.” She flinched away, as if my fingers were fire. “Not here.”

“What isn’t right?” I asked, aware of Markos’s and Kenté’s gaze fixed curiously on me. It had seemed—but that couldn’t be it. That made no sense. It seemed like Fee was afraid of me.

She scuttled back. “Her,” she muttered, shaking her head over and over, and refused to say more.

Once again I glanced at the dark ripples. I saw nothing, but shivered anyway.

“Don’t you wonder what’s down there?” Markos grasped a stay and leaned out to gaze into the water. I wished he wouldn’t. Fee’s strange behavior had set me on edge. Monster. I couldn’t help picturing a great tentacle suddenly popping out of the river to grab him.

“Nothing’s there,” I repeated.

Images jumped into my head. Something massive stirring in the depths. Fish darting in and out of a barnacle-crusted ruin. A woman’s long hair floating. Swallowing, I focused my eyes on the river ahead.

“So many mysteries in the world,” Markos mused. “For one, what do we really know about the gods?” He nodded at the water. “Why does yours speak to you, while Akhaia’s keeps silent? He must be a powerful god indeed.”

Whatever was down there was not the god in the river. Fee wasn’t afraid of him.

“What makes you say that?” My mouth was dry.

“Well, look at all this luck we’ve been having.”

I should’ve admitted the truth to him—that our luck had nothing to do with me. But I told myself my pride couldn’t take the hit. That was a lie. A person can live without pride. It’s just not very comfortable, is all.

That night we moored on the bank of the River Hanu, where the gleaming mudflats and sea of marsh grass had given way to rolling hills dotted with rocks. We’d made excellent time that day, what with the fair wind, and hadn’t seen a sign of the Black Dogs. While we sailed, I had recounted for Kenté the story of our journey, ending with the escape from Bollard House. It was hard to believe that was only the night before. It seemed like a dim memory. If the weather stayed fair, in two days we would reach the Neck. From there it was only half a day’s sail to Casteria.

I bolted the cabin window, drawing the curtains across. “Well, we’ve had no sighting of Victorianos.”

“That’s a good thing.” Kenté saw my face. “You don’t think that’s a good thing?”

I dropped onto the cushioned bench. “We know she went up the Kars. It’s Alektor I’m worried about.”

“What worries you?” she asked.

Unrolling Pa’s chart of the lower riverlands, I spread it on the table. “Where is she? Perhaps Philemon went to look for us in Iantiporos?” I trailed my finger down the map. “Thinking we mean to hide ourselves there, or apply to the Margravina for help?” I shook my head. “I don’t like this.”

“The pirates who are trying to kill you have disappeared without a trace,” she said with amusement, “and you don’t like it.”

I shrugged. “I just don’t.”

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