Chapter Eleven
The village of Dew on the island of Aver was adorable. Sure, it wasn’t flocks-of-winged-cats adorable, but it had cheerful pastel houses, cobblestone streets, and flowers beneath every window and on every street corner. Marin liked it.
She guided her boat into a slip in one of the many public docks—to entice visitors, Dew had filled its harbor with dozens of fingerlike docks instead of moorings, available to anyone for a fee—while Ree scampered up the mast.
“Ree, maybe you shouldn’t—”
He leaped off the top of the mast, somersaulted in the air, and splashed into the harbor just beyond the dock.
He sank beneath the water for less than a second before he bobbed up and shouted, “I’m okay!
” then paddled himself with his branches toward the dock.
Kneeling, Dax scooped him out of the water by his top branches. Ree shook himself off like a wet dog.
“Okeydokey.” Marin sighed.
After checking to be sure her silver ribbon was tied neatly, Marin plastered on a smile for the dock official as the burgundy-clad woman bustled down the dock.
Her white hair was slicked back and pinned, and she was scowling as if she disapproved of boats cluttering up her harbor, or maybe she just disapproved of their boat.
Her quill posed over a notebook, the woman asked, “Name and business in Dew?”
“Mariner Eversay. Here to visit the job board.”
Joining her, Dax said in a low voice, “Mariner?”
“I know,” Marin whispered back. “Good thing I wanted to be a sailor, right?” She’d once spent an entire afternoon reassuring her pa that she didn’t feel pressure because of her name. She chose to love the sea.
“Any deliveries?”
“Not this time,” Marin said, “though I can procure pretty much anything you want, for the right price. Earlier this season, I found a rare mayharp for the Music Conservatory of Alyssium. Had to bargain with a dragon for it.” She grinned at Dax.
“The dragon had a particular fondness for Eltaminium pearls, so I traded those.”
The official smiled, her expression softening so much that she was nearly another person. “I grew up on Eltaminia. Haven’t been back in ages.”
She’d guessed right on the slight accent. “A beautiful place.”
“Indeed.” In a far warmer voice, the official asked, “Your crew?”
Marin pointed to each of them. “Dax and Ree will be coming ashore. The sea serpent and orange cat are with me as well, but the serpent will stay beyond the docks. Can’t speak for the cat.”
“No one can speak for cats,” the woman said wisely.
Marin paid the fee for the dock usage, which was lower than she’d expected—the official had given her the fee for locals, thanks to the Eltaminia connection.
She had been to that island once—it was in the western reaches of the Crescent Islands, and it had beautiful beaches lined with stone statues who watched the waves.
As the official pocketed the fee, she eyed Dax with interest. Marin was trying to figure out why that made her want to snarl, especially when she’d been given a discount already. Abruptly, the woman asked, “Are you a musician?”
“Yes, I am,” Dax said.
The official looked pleased. “If you’re looking for a gig while you’re here, ask at the Kraken’s Nest. My cousin and her wife own it, and they’ve been desperate for new acts ever since the last flutist set the bar on fire. They’ll pay fair.”
“Will they pay room and board?” Dax asked.
A good question, but a better one: “A flutist set the bar on fire?” Marin asked.
The dock official noted the payment as she answered, “She claimed she could juggle burning bottles of alcohol while playing her flute. She could not.”
Transaction completed, the dock official retreated to attend to other business.
With an eager-as-a-child smile, Dax turned to Marin and asked, “Do you mind if inquire at the Kraken’s Nest? That’s the inn you mentioned, isn’t it? The one we can’t afford?”
The Kraken’s Nest was the premiere place to stay in Dew.
It supposedly had gryphon-feather beds and boasted a restaurant on the first floor that served an incredible blueberry pie.
She’d never tasted it and had certainly never stayed there.
He might as well see the best the island had to offer.
“Go for it. Ree, want to come with me or go with Dax? I’m going to check the job board.
” She waved toward the center of the square, up the hill from the harbor.
“No offense, Dax, but Marin’s task sounds more sailor-y,” Ree said.
“Absolutely not offended. Come join me at the Kraken’s Nest when you’re done.”
“You’re that certain you’ll get the job?” Marin asked. She’d heard him play, but mostly complex, beautiful pieces, not up-tempo background-while-you-eat music. She wasn’t sure conservatory music was what an inn would want, even a fancy inn with blueberry pie.
“As certain as you are that you can sail a boat.”
Marin laughed and held up her hands in surrender. “Sorry. Of course. We’ll see you at the Kraken’s Nest, where we’ll feast to your success.”
At the end of the dock, they split up. The cat went with Dax, and the shrub came with Marin, while the sea serpent played with the seagulls and the stray winged cats in the harbor.
The job board was exactly that: a board posted within a gazebo in the town square that was covered with notes advertising available jobs.
Some of them were for landfolk—gardening and housekeeping jobs mostly, as well as a few workers advertising their skills (a childminder looking for part-time work, a flying-sheep herder, and an enchanted cake baker, though the ad wasn’t clear whether it was the baker or their cakes that were enchanted).
Marin scanned the ones relevant to supply runners while Ree bounced beside her.
“I can’t see,” Ree said.
“Want me to pick you up?” she offered.
“Yes, please.”
She scooped him up and held him level with the job postings.
“Second problem,” Ree said. “I can’t read.”
“You can’t read?” Marin wondered why she was surprised. He was a bush. He shouldn’t have been able to talk. “We can do lessons on that after you’ve learned how to sail, if you’d like.”
He hugged her with his branches. “I love you, Marin.”
Marin patted his leaves and wondered why her eyes had suddenly decided to feel all hot and teary. “Me too, Ree. Me too.” She inhaled and blinked hard until the moisture went away.
Behind her, a familiar voice said, “Tell me you didn’t scoop up all the choice jobs before I had a chance.”
Luckily, the last of her sappy tears were gone in time for her to turn around with a smile for her fellow supply runner. “Hey, Tavo. How’s sailing?”
“Good, all good.” Tavo looked exactly the same as he had the last time she saw him: sunburnt and smiling, with a mouth as broad as a horse’s mouth and hair that trailed down his back in a thick braid.
He wore a red tunic so bright that it made tomatoes look pale.
“You know, excepting everything.” He waved his hand airily, to indicate the state of the world.
He must have been near Alyssium. Not surprising.
Most supply runners made the capital part of their route, due to the number of goods that needed to be transported into and out of the city.
Big contracts went on bigger ships and barges docked at the port, but smaller businesses often used private runners who could navigate the canals.
Despite the tariffs and the rising taxes, it was still the best way to make a living.
Or at least it was before the current upheaval.
It could be better, if the empire had truly fallen.
Or worse, if it hasn’t. “What’s the latest?
” Marin asked. “Last time I was there it seemed to be on fire.” She thought again about the Great Library and hoped Rijes Velk was okay, then she thought about the undelivered letter and felt a twinge of guilt.
She wished she could report back to the gardener that his family was fine. He had to be worried.
“Empire’s fallen and fire’s out,” Tavo said cheerfully. “Apparently sorcerers are good for something? Still a mess, though. I’m sticking to the outer routes. Might try west.” He peered at the job board and plucked a paper off. “Like this beauty.”
Marin turned back to the board and let his words sink in. The empire had fallen. The fire was out. It was over. Good had won, not strength and power. She hadn’t expected that. After Iovar … She shoved thoughts of him aside and took a deep breath.
She wondered how the world would change.
For now, though, she studied the job board.
There were a few jobs that weren’t far off her route—she wanted stops en route to Flicker so she’d still arrive in time for the festival.
It would be nice to return home with a fresh bag of coins, especially since she wouldn’t be bringing her own pie.
One caught her attention: a merchant on the island of Yori wanted several specialty cheeses.
It was in the right direction, and she could buy the cheeses here in Dew—she’d spotted a cheesemonger on one of her prior visits, though she’d never been inside.
She plucked the job off the board, as well as a few others that looked reasonable. “Happy sailing, Tavo.”
“You too, Marin and, um, plant?”
Ree waved to him with a wad of leaves as Marin left the gazebo. She tucked the job slips into one of her many pockets, specifically a waterproofed pocket that was good for bits of paper, and, still carrying Ree, headed for the Kraken’s Nest.
Up two cobblestone streets, the Kraken’s Nest was painted a cheerful lemon yellow, with flower boxes filled with an array of festive squash. Its sign was a smiling kraken with tentacles open wide as if to hug its customers, which, in Marin’s experience, was not typically what kraken did.
She heard voices rolling out the door, along with music. A woman was singing loudly and not entirely on-key, but the tri-lute somehow danced around her voice anyway, changing key as it went as if her notes were all intentional. “Guess he was right,” Marin said to Ree.