5. The Bait in the Boat
T he lightmancer arrived as promised, a scrawny, thin fellow about the Captain’s age, but unlike her in every other way. He went by the name of Aurelius Lightbringer, which was, as Freya pointed out, the most lightmancer-esque name in existence. He set to work immediately bewitching blades with sun charms with the help of the other mages, carving a rune into every sword that produced a burst of light.
“Shadows can be disrupted,” Jax said during another training session, “but most of the time, they will reform.”
“So how do we defeat them?” Freya asked.
Jax swallowed. The truth, Viola knew, was that you didn’t. Shadows could only be destroyed by the sheer absence of light, which meant unless you were lucky enough to be fighting a shadowmancer in a cave, your enemy would have the upper hand until nightfall.
“You defeat the caster,” another knight offered up.
“Quite right,” the Captain confirmed. “Kill the caster, end the shadows. The Shadowmancer is not to be trifled with, and we do not know the extent of his abilities. Our best advice is to never take him on alone, but if you see an opening—take it. You may not get another.”
Training recommenced, although what the mages managed to conjure was a faint imitation of what Viola experienced in the forest, smoke to fire. Their shadows could move like his, but not cut. It took a group of windmancers together to emulate the power of the singular shadowmancer, some casting illusions with the others using their powers to create wind weapons which sliced through the air as keenly as steel.
By now, word had spread that Viola was the one who had battled the Shadowmancer in the Feywood, and each day she was assaulted by questions or rumours. The number of wyverns had now increased to five, and at one point, she had ridden one.
Usually, Viola leaned into rumours that made her sound more impressive, but these didn’t amuse her. The Shadowmancer was dangerous, and the only way she’d survived him was by fleeing. It was hardly the heroic tale people were spinning.
One night, a few hours before dawn, there was a sharp rap on her door. Viola was already awake, dressed in a simple cotton shirt embroidered with leaves and a pair of slim-fitting brown trousers—both old favourites, and perfect for light morning exercise. “Enter.”
Captain Drakesbane entered Viola’s quarters. “Grab your sword,” she said. “The King has a mission for you.”
“Me?”
“Well, you and the rest of a team I’ve prepared. You’re a late addition. Come. The rest will be explained to you.”
Not asking further questions, Viola dressed, grabbed her sword, and headed after the Captain. A small group were waiting outside the barracks, led by the King himself.
“Ah, Windbright, there you are. We’re laying a trap for the Shadowmancer and thought it would be best to have our resident expert.”
One of the knights—Gilderoy Lightworth—scoffed, quickly turning it into a cough when the King looked at him sharply.
“Hardly an expert, Sire,” Viola reminded him, although Lightworth's pointed cough made her want to boast.
“Only one here with any recent experience fighting the chap in question. I’d say that counts.”
Viola didn’t think this was the best time to disagree.
“Anyway,” the King continued, “as I was just explaining to the rest of these fine folk, we’ve laid a little trap for the Shadowmancer. This morning, we’ve a fine shipment setting off for Marisar. We’re hoping to tempt our friend out of hiding. The vessel is packed to the brim with wine, silk, watergems, fine oils, and enough jewels to tempt an emperor.”
Viola swallowed. It was a tempting offer. That, and a ship leaving at dawn—when less people were about and shadows easy to conjure—was sure to pique his interest if her suspicions were correct.
A sudden thought occurred to her. “Wait—is the cargo real?”
“The cargo is real—everything is real,” the King confirmed. “We couldn’t risk him catching onto our ruse. I’ll explain everything else on the way. Off we go. ”
Lightworth smirked at her as they passed outside the gate. “What’s the best way to catch a fish?” he whispered. “ Live bait.”
Nicodemus watched the cargo being loaded from his hiding spot on one of the other ships nearby. It was a residential vessel, but its owners clearly hadn’t visited it for a while, judging by the state of the garden on deck, which was in even more of a sorry state than his own untidy courtyard back at his residence. A lantern for light and a quick shadow to the lock, and Nicodemus had slipped inside a little after midnight, finding himself a comfortable spot from where to keep lookout.
Like most petty criminals—or even established ones—Nico got most of his information from taverns and talkers, and for the past few days, almost all of them seemed to be abuzz with whispers of an impressive shipment bound for Marisar. It was a cargo almost too good to be true. Suspiciously good.
Nico wasn’t fooled, but he also knew the shipment could well be real, and it did seem too good an opportunity to miss out on. Plus, he heard that there was a nice bolt of lavender silk on board, and Cordelia really needed a new dress and she was particular about shades and texture. She’d wear her favourites until they were no more than rags.
It might have seemed a lot to risk for a bit of fabric, but Nicodemus was willing to, providing the force sent to greet him wasn’t too substantial. Despite the display he’d shown the knight in the forest the other day, they still didn’t know what he was capable of. He’d like to keep it that way for a little longer.
He kept his eye on the boat as the cargo was loaded. The goods were inspected on the docks, allowing him to be certain that most of them, at least, were indeed real. He’d stolen into the shipmaster’s study earlier to ascertain that the voyage was a legitimate one. So far, all correct. The Skylark was due to depart in an hour, bound for Marisar. The sailors were already aboard, checking everything over, testing the sails. They performed a few rudimentary hover checks. One of the sailors grabbed the side as the vessel lifted itself up, as if unused to the sudden movement. Another sailor thumped them on the back.
Nico paused .
The second sailor looked familiar.
It was her. The knight from the woods. Wearing sailor’s garb now, but clearly her. The same tawny skin and shoulder-length dark hair. The dawn gave it an unusual glint—the same one her glowstone had done in the forest. Faint red, almost purple.
It seemed unlikely she was moonlighting as a sailor. Far more likely this was, as anticipated, some sort of trap.
He focused on the rest of the boat, not wanting to change his plans based on the sighting of one woman from afar. He could be mistaken. The boat was close, but not that close. He strained his eyes, focusing as much as he could, cursing the vision in his left eye which wasn’t nearly as sharp.
No, it was her. He was certain of it. He counted the number of people on board, trying to work out who was a sailor, and who was a knight in disguise. The one leaning over the railing, already looking a bit green about the gills, clearly wasn’t used to being on a boat. Another was doing a terrible job of trying to tie a knot. He watched them for as long as he dared. He estimated that at least five were knights, three were sailors, and two he wasn’t sure of.
One of them looked suspiciously like King Jax, but that, Nico was fairly certain, was impossible. There was no way the King of Auro would be bothering himself with such a matter.
Unless he knows, a voice whispered. Unless he thinks it’s you behind this.
He shook the thought away. ‘Jax’ surely thought he was dead, and even if he didn’t, he was sure the mighty monarch never thought of him.
Not like he did.
It didn’t matter anyway. The cargo was his goal today. How best to get to it? A giant shadow scythe, if they were all on deck, could dispose of them immediately, but it would be bloody and messy and he had a few qualms about killing the sailors, most of whom were likely to be honest folk, or as honest as folk could get, with families to miss and mourn them. Nicodemus didn’t have much experience with families, but he knew how he’d feel if someone hurt Cordelia, and he supposed he might as well keep others from feeling that if he could avoid it.
You could walk away, a voice reminded him. You don’t have to risk hurting anyone today.
But he thought of the knight, and her slipping away from him, and how annoyed Jax would be, if he was here, and the look on Cordelia’s face if he brought back the silk, and decided it was worth the risk. That, and he’d just had a fabulous idea of how to get almost everyone off the boat without hurting them. Much.
When at sea… he thought. Do as sea monsters do.