Chapter Seven #4
She didn’t understand how anyone could chose to fight for the empire.
It wasn’t a secret that the emperor and his ilk only cared about themselves.
They saw other people as pawns or tools.
The law against non-sorcerers using magic was only the most obvious and egregious example.
Yes, there were incidents where non-sorcerers caused problems, but the damage that law did far outweighed the safety it provided.
And there were dozens of other examples.
Tax laws that only made the wealthy richer.
Tariffs that only made everything more expensive, especially for the outer islands.
Education that only favored the rich. Health laws that prioritized the connected.
Those who were hungry, poor, far from the capital …
they were ignored or, worse, seen as collateral.
There was no reason for the wealthy to be as wealthy as they were.
You didn’t need spires and palaces to be happy.
You needed the sea and the wind and family who loved you.
The empire was built on fear and selfishness. It deserved to fall. But she had no way of knowing if it was falling or if it was triumphing. She was just a sailor who didn’t belong in the middle of this mess.
Best not to think about it and instead concentrate on what she could do: get out, with as many as wanted to come. Let the fighters fight.
The first musician to return was a woman with pink hair and even pinker skin. She wore a billowy cloak and carried two bags over her shoulder. An array of flutes and pipes was strapped to her belt.
She was followed by an elderly man with silver tattoos on his bald head. He carried only a lute, his arms wrapped tight around it.
A third came, carrying a drum.
Marin almost laughed. She would have, if it hadn’t all been so awful and dire. She should have expected that musicians wouldn’t be gathering up clothes or food or survival essentials. Of course they’d gone for their instruments.
She nearly protested when two more came down the stairs, hauling the mayharp that she’d brought here for Dax, but she didn’t. She let them carry it onto her boat and down into the hold. She heard their surprise as they saw how much bigger it was on the inside.
More came, thanking her and offering their names. She didn’t listen. She wasn’t intending for them to be on her boat long enough for who they were to matter.
Come on, Dax. Move.
At eight minutes and ten seconds, Dax appeared. He had multiple bags over his shoulder. She could see that one was bursting with papers and scrolls. In his arms was what looked like a lute, except it had three necks and three sets of strings.
“Get on,” Marin said. “We’re going now.”
“How many…”
“Fourteen.” Oh, yay. The original half dozen must have found friends. She didn’t care. They were on board, and Dax was here.
He began to pivot back toward the stairs. “Do you know if Shiare—”
Shooting out of the water, Perri slapped into Dax with his fin, knocking him onto the deck. Marin untied the lines from the dock and shoved off.
Ree hopped next to Dax. “Hi. I’m Ree. I’m on her crew.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Ree,” Dax said. He struggled to his feet, still cradling his lute and bags. “I need to see if my friend made it…”
From belowdecks, a woman called, “I’m here, Dax! We’re all here!”
“Come this way,” Ree said to Dax, leading him toward the steps to the cabin.
Marin called to her little sailor. “Ree, tell them all to sit down or hold on—it’s going to be a fast ride. And then get back up here. I need you on map duty.”
“Aye, Captain,” Ree said.
“Marin…” Dax began.
“Belowdecks,” she ordered.
Once all the musicians and their paraphernalia were stowed safely within the cabin and Ree had returned, Marin said to Perri, “How fast can you swim us out of here?”
He trilled a series of notes in rapid sequence.
Very fast. She liked that answer. “Ree, can you hold on tight to both the boat and the map? If not, I’ll need you to go below with the others. I don’t want to lose you.”
He responded by weaving his branches tight around the base of the mast. He poked holes in the map with other branches so that it was stuck to him.
Marin lashed herself to the helm with a stretch of line. She kept her hands free to control the wheel. Then she said to Perri, “Go.”
He used the tunnel the way a bird used a stretch of water—as a runway for gathering up speed. By the time they reached the mouth of the tunnel, he was going peak speed. He pivoted fast, whipping the boat to the side, to take the first turn.
Ree screeched, “Left!”
Perri turned left.
They careened through the canals. Ash flew into Marin’s eyes, and she squinted as much as she could, seeing through narrow slits.
The screaming was louder, closer, and she saw colors streak the sky: reds, oranges, and purples—the residue of spells being cast, she guessed.
She wondered which side the sorcerers were on.
She’d only ever met one sorcerer, Yvex, the one who’d given her parents the spell for her boat, and he didn’t seem likely to involve himself in any political conflict, on either side.
She wondered if there were sorcerers who regretted being imperial pets, if there were any who’d switched sides.
She wondered what it would take to stop the fighting.
Would all of Alyssium burn to ashes, until all that was left were remnants for the sea and the tide to wash away?
It was all too big for her to think about. She concentrated instead on holding on to the boat and keeping the rudder steady as they raced through the canals.
As they spurted out of the gate, Marin loosened the knot around her waist, and she raised the sails. They caught the wind, and the boat keeled to the side. She kept them on the fastest run, not worrying about direction, only focusing on speed.
Behind her, the city burned, and Marin didn’t look back.