Interlude
LADY SAYYIDA VIRTORIS, HOUSE OF THE SEA SERPENT
The eastern winds blew her curls around her eyes as Sayyida Virtoris strode through the throngs of dockworkers, gaze downcast to draw minimal attention.
Sayyida and Vidar had traveled to the small eastern port with a skeleton crew on one ship, their smallest, least adorned vessel, Slynkr.
She wasn’t a war vessel, but a smuggler’s ship, owned by the family boasting the most robust armada in Winter’s Realm. And today, Slynkr had done her job and smuggled Sayyida and Vidar into an unfamiliar city. A city that, through a letter from Saga, Lord Riis has told them to journey to.
The rest of their fleet had continued south, to anchor among the small islands closer to Grindavik. While not an ideal scenario for the Virtoris siblings to stray so far from the fleet, among those remote islands, their ships would not draw the attention of anyone loyal to House Ithamai.
“I see the flag.”
Sayyida glanced up, found it too. “Should we scout the area first?”
Even if she was certain Saga would never betray her, Sayyida held no such assurances for Lord Riis. She did not know him well enough, and he was a spymaster, after all. House Skuld, the lesser house that ruled Vantalia, was another issue. They remained loyal to the king.
“I think so,” Vidar said.
They climbed up the final ramp, feet finding the cobbles, free of snow and packed ice. As she entered the shelter of the city’s buildings and the maritime winds were dampened, she realized Winter’s Realm was nearly warm enough to walk about without a cloak.
The city was on the small side, and as they walked the streets, Sayyida was not impressed by what she saw.
“Eireann wouldn’t have fit in here well at all,” Vidar murmured.
She laughed without humor, having forgotten that Eireann had been betrothed to some rat-faced male from House Skuld. The king knew how to make enemies by mistreating the sons and daughters of the great lords and ladies.
“Not enough luxury,” Sayyida agreed.
Myrr was the Golden City, the Jewel of the Southlands, and though that shining name came about because of the vast number of light fae the Baliks produced, there was quite a lot of gold, too.
Vantalia, by comparison, was drab and depressing.
Every shop they passed appeared run down, the wood rotting from the salt and sea water.
The fae looked little better. Such sadness ringed their eyes that Sayyida had to wonder what was going on in the city that made it such a miserable place to live.
They’d walked for about ten minutes and observed nothing of note. No one appeared to be following them. And aside from the drunken nymph who had tried to force coin from their hands before Sayyida told him off, nobody on the street was paying close attention. Above, no one eased out their windows.
“I think we should head back.” Sayyida nodded back in the direction they’d come. “We can wait by the brothel for a while to be extra careful. Observe who comes and goes?”
Her brother gave a succinct nod. “I agree. Let’s—”
A figure dropped out of the air before them. Short, but not as short as a dwarf, with a black hood obscuring their face.
“Actually,” a raspy feminine voice purred. “I have a better plan for two sea serpents skulking around Vantalia.”
Sayyida drew her blade. Vidar was only a second slower.
Where did this female come from!? Sayyida chanced a glance up. The motion gave her away.
“Yes, the rooftops.” The female did not appear at all bothered by their swords. “You’re not as inconspicuous as you think.”
“Who are you?” Vidar demanded. “And how do you know who we are?”
“Ooooh, that voice!” The fae leaned one shoulder against the closest building. At her touch, blue paint chips fell to the cobbles. “You must have all the ladies dropping their garments, Lord Virtoris!”
“Don’t say our names!” Sayyida hissed. More could be listening from windows.
“Any other names I might give such a handsome lord are inappropriate, so you tell me, what else am I supposed to call him? I was told that only you’d be here, Lady Glia.”
Sayyida’s spine straightened at the name. The one she was supposed to use when they entered Lord Riis’s brothel. “How do you know that’s who I am?”
The female pulled down her hood, and they got their first good look at her face. Thick black lashes framed startling amber eyes. Her face was heart-shaped, her lips rosebuds, both pleasing, delicate features offset by a head of copper-red curls even more wild than Sayyida’s black ones.
“I’m Yrsa, daughter to Lord Riis, at your service.” She swept into a deep and somewhat mocking bow.
A grin spread across Sayyida’s face. “You live in Grindavik, don’t you?”
Yrsa nodded. “With my sisters.”
“Sváva and Geiravor?”
“So you have heard of us!”
“You’re absolute legends!”
It was common knowledge that Lord Riis had dozens of children, but many of them weren’t at all well-known. The Terrors of Grindavik were a notable exception.
How many times had she heard Thantrel Riis laughing because Lady Ithamai complained that Lord Leyv Riis needed to get his daughters under control? Fates, at least a dozen.
Sayyida had never met any of the Terrors, but it hadn’t been for lack of desire.
Yrsa bowed again, but this time it was with a flourish, like an actress accepting a call for an encore. “We do what we must to keep life interesting in the east. And I have to say, I’m a fan of yours too, Lady Glia. Already a captain in the Nava? Not many could do that so young.”
Sayyida beamed. It was true that she’d risen quickly in the Nava ranks. She doubted that she still held her title after she angered the king.
Vidar held up a hand. “As much as I’m sure you and my sister could talk for hours about stirring up trouble, I need to know why Lord Riis has one of his most notorious children following us?”
Yrsa pouted. “To business already?”
“I’d prefer it.”
“Is it really true, what they say about the Virtoris heir?”
Sayyida pressed her lips together, sensing something that would throw her brother off and loving it.
Vidar didn’t give them the satisfaction, but when Yrsa didn’t continue, he let out a long-suffering sigh. “And what’s that?”
Yrsa pushed off the wall and when she was but a pace away from Vidar, she lifted her hand and ran a finger along his collarbone. “That he’s stiff as a plank.” She cocked her head, and Sayyida nearly burst with glee at the way her brother’s eyes widened.
“While I don’t mind a bit of stiffness in the right places, I think they miscalculate you. There’s something more to you, isn’t there, lordling?” She batted her lashes. “Perhaps it takes the right person for you to show your more flexible side?”
Vidar took a step back. “Answer me.”
“You were supposed to go to the brothel, yes?”
“That’s right,” Sayyida replied.
“Seeing as it’s my father’s establishment, it’s being watched by those loyal to the king.”
“Your father sold us out?” Vidar asked.
“Not at all. When Princess Saga sent you that letter, things were fine, but they turned soon after.”
“When did people start watching the brothel?” Sayyida asked.
“They turned up three days ago. Right after I arrived.”
“Is it just you?” Sayyida half hoped the other two Terrors would fall from the sky.
“My sisters are in Grindavik keeping an eye on those properties. There are more of them there. The city is larger.”
“Right.” Sayyida’s brother still appeared uneasy. “Well, thank you for finding us. I presume you have a sleigh elsewhere to take us inland?”
“No sleigh.”
Vidar’s lips slanted downward. “Horses?”
Sayyida shuddered. They were seafaring people, and while they could, of course, ride horseback, that long of a journey would be uncomfortable.
“I have something better, but you have to swear to me that you won’t say a word about it.”
“Is it dangerous?” Vidar asked.
“Not at all. And it’s the fastest way to join my father and the princess in Myrr. Many others too, if the rumors are to be believed.”
Sayyida cut her brother a sidelong glance. “I trust her.”
“Of course you do.” He pressed his lips together tightly before conceding. “Fine. Show us this other means of transportation.”
“Your wings work, correct?” Yrsa fanned her wings out behind her, and if there was any question that she was Lord Riis’s daughter, it would have been erased from Sayyida’s mind upon seeing those wings.
Like Lord Riis, Luccan, Arie, and Thantrel, Yrsa had what many had dubbed ‘fire wings’.
Faerie wings in blended shades of reds, oranges, and yellows.
The combination was rare and hard to miss.
To answer Yrsa’s question, they slipped their wings through the cloak slits.
“Come along then.” The Terror shot into the air.
The Virtoris siblings followed Yrsa as she landed on the rooftop of the nearest building. She proceeded to walk along the rooftops, jumping and fluttering to the next, all the way back to the harbor, where she tucked her wings in tight.
“Isn’t that the ice spider banner?” Vidar pointed to the top of a flag, discernible from where they stood. The red flag and the long legs of an ice spider sprawled across it.
“This is the brothel. You said it was being monitored,” Vidar accused Yrsa. “Why bring us here?”
“And it’s still being watched. From below. Lucky for you, though, there’s a secret entrance.”
“Your whole family is full of secrets.”
Yrsa barked out a laugh. “You don’t know half of it, sea serpent. Remember that you promised not to breathe a word of what I’m about to show you. If you do, it could harm someone I love. Someone I think you are quite fond of, too.”
Vidar looked like he wanted to press, but just nodded. At that, Yrsa glided to the far side of the roof, where old ale barrels and assorted junk waited.
It was an odd place for barrels. Even empty ones. Why not get them refilled? Or use the wood for fire?
She got her answer when Yrsa moved two of the barrels aside and revealed a trapdoor. The Terror of Grindavik pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked the door. It opened on a whine.
“In you go.” Yrsa pointed down.
Sayyida and Vidar approached the door and peered inside. A tidy, elegantly furnished office waited below.
“My father’s office.”
“Why does he have a trapdoor above it?” Vidar asked.
“Father has many exits in his establishments. The king’s spymaster can never be too careful.”
Sayyida supposed that was true, and so she hopped into the office. Vidar joined her, and Yrsa came last. Once inside, the redhead waved her hand in the air.
At first, Sayyida was confused, but then she heard Yrsa’s hand hit something. The female grabbed an invisible thing with two hands, tugged, and the trapdoor shut behind them. Softer than Sayyida would have imagined.
“Invisible rope and a barrier of air,” Yrsa explained. “Keeps it from being noisy. There’s one on the other side too that keeps it airtight. Took Thantrel forever to perfect how to manipulate the air like that, but he was too proud to give up.”
“Right,” Vidar said. “Why are we in an office?”
Yrsa went to the side wall. “Because this is in here.” Yrsa pulled a dagger from a sheath beneath her cloak and poked her finger. Blood welled, only for the Terror to smear it along the wall, which then began to glow. “To Myrr.”
“Fates,” Sayyida breathed. “A gateway. But those are—”
“Illegal unless sanctioned by the Crown.” Yrsa sucked the blood from her finger as the gateway grew wider and brighter. “Hence why you’re keeping the family secret.”
“Who made it?” Vidar asked.
“Luccan.”
Vidar appeared stunned, and Sayyida understood. To have Luccan hide this from Vidar would be like Saga hiding something important from Sayyida.
“You’ll need to go through quickly,” Yrsa said. “They don’t stay open for very long. I’ll come through last.”
“Are you staying in Myrr too?” Sayyida asked.
“No, I’ll return here to tidy up.” Yrsa pointed to the ceiling, where the barrels were out of place. “Then I’m going to return to Grindavik.”
“Right. Well, when you come back, can you do us a favor?”
“Perhaps?”
“Tell the fae aboard the Slynkr that we’re safe and to join the rest of the fleet.”
“Consider it done.”
Sayyida nodded her thanks. “Alright then. Vidar?”
Their hearts thumping wildly, the Virtoris siblings stepped through the gateway to find their friends.