My King, trapped in the dungeons.
My mentor, and all the memories that came with him.
My enemy, sitting upon a throne that did not belong to him.
Did Myrin already know of my return?
If not, it’d be soon. Caleb would see to that.
Part of me wanted to demand Kevin fly me to Castle Lockes now just so I could face Myrin and get this over with. I had the dragons. I had my magic. GW thought I wasn’t yet ready, telling me there was still much I needed to learn, especially in the face of Myrin having Morgan’s magic combined with his own.
But that didn’t matter in the end. Because while the Great White had been able to slow Zero’s cycle, we had perhaps a month left before he would feel the call of his kind and return to his home in the desert to sleep away the next hundred years. And if the gods were right, I needed him just as much as I needed the others.
The clock was ticking.
Within the next month, this would be over, one way or another.
“All right?” Kevin asked me quietly as Brant and Katya crossed the road.
“Yeah,” I said.
He followed my gaze to the City of Lockes. “We’ll get it back, pretty. All of it. I know it.”
I nodded and crossed the road toward the Port.
THE PORT had been a center of commerce for Verania, a bustling extension of the City of Lockes. It was always a little grimier, and stank of fish and salt, but it was an important part of the economy. Trade routes led through the Port by land and sea. Ships of all sizes sailed from faraway lands, bringing wares to trade: spices that made smoke leak out your ears, fabrics that felt like the caress of a lover, alcohol that caused one to believe that one was a fantastic singer and led one to regale anyone within earshot with the joys of “Cheesy Dicks and Candlesticks,” no matter how many times the audience had heard it before. (“Why does Ryan get that disgusting dreamy look on his face every time he hears that song?” Justin had demanded. “It’s like he’s been enchanted by a godsdamn siren. And Sam, do you really have to sing it again? I am going to harm you irreparably!”)
The people of the sea town were of the hardworking sort, rising even before the sun to head to the docks, fishing vessels sailing out while the stars above started to fade and a light appeared in the east, passing the ships of the night fishers coming back after hours at sea. They’d be met by others on the docks, ready to pack the haul on ice for transport to the markets in the Port and the City of Lockes.
The people here weren’t like those in the King’s Court. They worked from sunup to sundown, while still others worked the entire night away. It was a never-ending cycle, and it kept the wheels of Verania spinning smoothly.
They were of the rough sort, the dockworkers and the fishermen and women. Maybe not so much as those that skulked in the shadows of Meridian City, but they’d probably feel more at home there than they ever would in the City of Lockes. But they loved their King as much as the rest of us, and rarely had issues with the Crown. Aside from the time where there was the threat of a strike that the King had stepped in and mediated, I’d never known there to be any strife.
It probably helped that out of all the cities and villages in Verania, the Port had had the lowest number of people signing the petition to have me removed from my position as the apprentice to the King’s Wizard and banished from Verania. I tended to like people who didn’t give a shit about things like that.
Speaking of.
“So, hypothetically,” I said to Brant and Katya as we approached a set of large gates at the entrance to the Port—something that hadn’t been there before I’d left. “Let’s say we arrive at the Port—I mean, Camp HaveHeart—and I come face-to-face with a teenage girl I deem not fit for living. Would there be consequences if I were to, hypothetically, explode her in front of everyone with nothing but the power of my mind?”
“You can do that?” Brant asked, eyes wide.
I smiled reassuringly at him. “Hypothetically.”
He didn’t look very reassured. If anything, I thought maybe he walked farther away from me, pulling his sister along with him. Which, rude.
“Hypothetically, you’d probably get arrested,” Katya said.
“Interesting. Follow-up hypothetical. What if said teenage girl was the incarnation of evil, and by eradicating her, the world would be a much better place?”
“He’s talking about Lady Tina,” Kevin whispered to Brant. “In case you couldn’t figure it out on your own. And he’s not being hypothetical. He’s being for real.”
Katya bristled a little. “Lady Tina has been
instrumental in helping the Resistance get as far as we have. The Foxy Lady Brigade has taken out more high-ranking Darks than any other group, including the knights. She’s second-in-command for a reason.”
“Yeah,” I said. “About that. Is there any possibility that all of you have lost your godsdamned minds? Do you know what she did? Aside from starting the whole movement against me, she always accused me of having dry muffins! My muffins were not dry, no matter what she said or how they tasted like sandpaper.”
“She also played a part in leading you to Ruv and Myrin,” Kevin added.