Chapter Thirty. Gin
CHAPTER THIRTY
GIN
As Luwalhati promised, when we awake, we find ourselves washed ashore, hidden near the cliffside where we were dropped off earlier.
Eban sends a flare up and we’re picked up by Darius’s crew and headed back to the Lashing.
Darius will no doubt be disappointed at our failure to recover the relics, but after our boat capsized and we almost drowned, we just want to come back and regroup before attempting another heist. Ever since the bonding, all my thoughts are far clearer.
Sharper. The doubts I used to have, the second-guessing, no longer exist. My growing feelings for Eban are self-explanatory, matter-of-fact.
I trust him implicitly. We share the same goal.
Perhaps one day we will be more than friends.
I think I would like that, and I think that maybe he would, too.
I’m happy to return, but Eban is apprehensive, guarded.
Though it isn’t only about the Lashing; he’s been like this ever since the trials.
I know he’s agonized that he did not achieve the bonding.
I wonder what happened, what he saw, whether it was similar to mine or something different.
He hasn’t offered up any information, and I know better than to ask.
I wish I could comfort him somehow, assure him that everything will be all right, that he’ll succeed with the next trial—that there will even be a next trial—but of course, I cannot. Because I don’t know that it will.
The Lashing twinkles faintly in the dawn.
Evening candles have waned, and so only the barest sliver of light illuminates the colony, a collection of black shapes rising from the sea, like a shadow cast of the bright, magic world lying deep below it.
Gentle waves lap up against the docks. Seagulls swoop by overhead.
A still, calm morning. A handful of fishermen are already out, gathering their nets and packing up their boats for a long day ahead.
When they spot us headed toward the city, they congregate around the edge of the wharf to welcome us back.
It’s a stark contrast from the first time we showed up, when hostile faces and weapons were pointed in our direction.
The men, withered and lean from a lifetime of sun and physical labor, pull the boat in and secure it to thick metal rings with graying, frayed rope. “Do you know where we can find Darius?” I ask them.
“Hopefully he’s here and not off on one of his ‘missions,’” Eban says under his breath.
I don’t acknowledge his comment. No matter what, Darius is Ophir, and the leader of the Lashing. He welcomed us here when we had nowhere else to go.
The man points toward the heart of the city. “Should be in his quarters, as far as I know.”
I thank him, and then Eban and I head to Darius’s tent.
All the others have their doorways still tied shut; the community is hushed, most still asleep, or in the case of the night watch, just going to bed, though I catch the occasional muted conversation coming from within.
Some people are waking up for the day, preparing to work, tending to small children.
Their tiny pattering footsteps run from place to place.
There are lingering scents from the prior evening’s supper mixed with the fresh sea air.
There’s a homey feeling I’ve always hoped for but never fully experienced.
The closest was at the pleasure house, at least the initial weeks I spent there, when I felt like I had something resembling a family, a stable one, unlike the ragtag collection of thieves who resided with Aris.
At House Eternal, I was well aware I never belonged, no matter how much I wished otherwise. I wonder if the Lashing is my home now.
Darius’s tent is closed like the others. Anyone from Lacon would never know the community’s leader is housed there; it’s indistinguishable from the rest. A testament to the Ophir way of life. I knock softly on the wood frame.
Darius pulls aside the curtain. “You two. Took a while. Did you get the relics?” he asks groggily. He’d clearly been up late.
Eban doesn’t bother with formalities or small talk. “Not yet, but we will. We have some information and we know how to get to the vault in House Dominant.”
We set off from the Lashing later that day while the rest of the world is settling in for the evening.
I watch the city disappear behind us. It seems like I’m always saying goodbye, never settling in anywhere.
The sky grows darker until it becomes one with the sea.
Darius manages the ship. I stand guard, energized by how keen my senses are in the dark.
I can hear the currents, the sea life cutting through the water around the ship, and even sense their curiosity about the vessel.
There’s a storm far to the west, but it won’t reach us.
I’m tuned in to all the life energy around me.
Darius invites us into his captain’s quarters to talk strategy. We tell him about the secret passageway we’ve learned about that leads to the vault.
“The cove is here, so if you take us there, we’ll find the tunnel and make our way to the underground network underneath the estate,” Eban says, pointing to a spot on the nautical map spread out on the table.
“I have a better idea,” Darius says. “House Dominant set out a call for more workers. My sources tell me Lord Talavera is planning an old-fashioned tournament. They need more workers than ever before. That tunnel you speak of is hidden even deeper in the rocks. It will be almost impossible to land on that beach. This way will be much easier.”
Eban and I exchange glances. “You want us to pose as servants,” Eban says flatly.
Darius leans back and kicks up his feet on the table. “Much easier, don’t you think? We’ll practically be walking in through the front door.”
He has a point. Who knows how long it would take to find the tunnel through the mountain that leads to House Dominant. We could be lost there for hours before we found the right passageway.
“But we’ll be surrounded by estate guards and Blackcoats,” Eban argues. “How will we get away to get to the vault?”
“Servants are often sent to a changing room after they’re hired. They don’t want us in our Ophir rags. We’ll take that opportunity to slip away, and if we get into trouble, there’s three of us. I think between you and me, we can take down a couple of them,” Darius says loftily.
Eban grunts.
“So, we’re agreed, then? We will join the caravan from the Sleeve that’s making its way to House Dominant.”
“I don’t like it,” Eban says. “But we’ll do it your way.”
“Excellent,” Darius says.
We retire to our cabins. I wake up when I hear a noise in front of mine and find Eban pacing back and forth on the deck. “Eban,” I say. “Maybe you should try to get some sleep?” His nervous energy is putting me on edge.
“I’m fine,” he says without pausing.
I’m not.
I don’t want to argue with him, so I just sit on the deck to keep him company until Darius leaves the helm to let us know our arrival is imminent. “There’s been a slight change of plans,” he announces.
“Oh?” I ask.
“I’m not going to join the caravan. I’m going to enter the estate separately from you and Eban.”
I don’t like this at all. “You’re not? Why? We already agreed we’re safer and stronger if we stay together.”
“I’ve thought about it and I think it’s better this way.
I’m going to enter disguised as a noble.
That way if something goes wrong, I can help from the other side.
I plan to cause a distraction while you two are raiding the vault.
We’ll meet at sundown. More nobles will be arriving for the party after the tournament and there will be guests and servants everywhere.
No one will notice as we make our way to the eastern garden of the estate.
There’s a path to the water from there, and Perlah will meet us in a skiff. ”
“What kind of distraction?”
“The kind that assures success,” Darius says.
There’s a beat of silence. This plan doesn’t seem all that sound. The possibility of being caught is far too high. Now both Darius and Eban look displeased, their arms folded stubbornly and jaws clenched.
“Come on, now, we’re all on the same team,” I say to the boys.
Neither of them respond. Looks like I have to play peacemaker. “Eban, you and I can handle getting into the vault. Darius can take care of himself. And he’s right, if we get into a jam, maybe this way he’ll be able to get us out of it.”
“Gin understands,” Darius explains. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to—” He motions toward the wheel of the ship.
Once he’s out of earshot, Eban and I stand at the side of the ship. “Something is eating at you, and it isn’t only Darius,” I say to him.
He nods and looks out over the sea, the barest hint of light beginning to rise from the horizon.
I know what he’s thinking. We’ll soon reach the shore.
As we get closer, the reality of what we’re about to do is sinking in.
“Even the fiercest warrior has quiet moments of apprehension,” I tell him.
“But I’m confident we have a solid plan, and between the three of us, we can pull this off.
Let Darius do what he needs to do. You know you and I can get into that vault. ”
“It’s not that,” Eban says. “I’m about to do the one thing I vowed I never would—become a servant of a Great House. Little more than a slave.”
I’m floored. That’s not at all what I expected. “You won’t be. It’s just a ruse. You…”
“Gin, I’ve spent my entire life running from this very thing, staying as far from these people as possible.
I’ve done anything I can to avoid becoming dependent on them, on their money, on their charity.
The whims of their moods. And now I’m going to walk in and volunteer to be their willing prisoner. ”
“Like I did, you mean?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I would never judge you.”
I understand then. That for Eban even pretending to be a servant brings an emotional wound.
I think of him in the trials, how something so deeply damaging haunts him and caused him to fold in on himself for self-protection.
In some ways, Eban’s pain runs even deeper than mine. I wish he would tell me what it is.