CHAPTER FIFTEEN
That’s Your Plan?
Pytr
“You’re kidding,” I whisper under my breath.
Zayne grins at me from across the little table. The river barge shifts uneasily beneath us as the current of the great Ever-Reaching grabs it and pulls it toward the distant ocean.
“That’s your plan?” I continue.
Zayne doesn’t reply. Instead, he pulls a deck of cards from his pocket and begins to shuffle them on the table between us. Behind him, someone coughs in the darkness.
“Is that why you wouldn’t tell me in the pub?” I whisper. “Because it’s so fucking stupid that I might have refused to get on the boat?”
“I said I’d tell you when you needed to know,” Zayne replies, his voice low and even. “The only important thing is that you can swim. You can swim, no?”
“Well enough, I suppose,” I say with a shrug.
“And you need to look like you’ve been drinking all night,” Zayne continues.
He leans forward, then splashes something from a flask onto my shirt. It smells like it could strip the paint from the barge.
“I don’t drink,” I mutter.
“Well, good for you,” Zayne replies with a grin. “We’re almost there. Here, put some money on the table.”
“What, I haven’t given you enough money?”
“Just do it,” Zayne snorts.
I have exactly four coins to my name. I put two of them on the table, then take the cards Zayne offers.
We play a few listless hands, and I lose both of my coins to this bastard in his dark robe.
The sky turns a light, faded blue as the darkness begins to retreat.
Soon, I can make out the faces of our fellow passengers in the dim gray light.
“Don’t look up,” Zayne whispers.
I look up, then back down. Zayne grins at me.
“You’d make a terrible mercenary,” he says.
“Thanks,” I snap. “You’d make a shitty farmer.”
“I hope so,” he replies. “Now, don’t look yet. There’s a clump of trees downriver, off to port.”
“Port?”
Zayne rolls his eyes. “Left. Look now.”
I glance up and to the left.
“The boat’s left,” Zayne hisses.
I turn. The shadowy clump of trees is just downriver from us.
“I see it,” I whisper.
“Good,” he says. “Swim there. There’s a rowboat and supplies. Wait a few days before you move.”
“A few days?”
Zayne shoves his chair back and jumps to his feet. His face contorts with rage.
“You say that to my face!” he screams.
My mouth falls open, even as my mind slowly whispers that this is all part of Zayne’s plan. Make it look like we’re drunk. Make it look like we’re fighting. And make sure everyone on this boat sees my face, so they can all identify me when the Exemplars of the Towers start asking.
Someone behind me gasps as Zayne leans over the table and grabs my shirt.
“You piece of shit,” he spits, slurring his words. “You’re cheating!”
I stumble up from my chair, glancing behind me. Everyone sitting on the deck is staring at us. A few of the men are coming to their feet.
We don’t have much time.
“Well— fuck you!” I scream.
I grab the side of the table and flip it over.
It crashes to the floor. Someone screams. Zayne lunges forward, grabbing my shirt.
He shoves me toward the left side of the boat.
Port, I think numbly as Zayne drags me across the splintered wooden floor.
I turn, trying to make eye contact with every single person on the deck.
And then the bastard punches me. Hard.
I reel backward, smacking into someone standing behind me. The harsh scent of alcohol rises all around me, coming from whatever it was that Zayne just spilled all over my shirt. I look up at Zayne. He’s grinning maniacally.
“You son of a bitch,” I mutter.
Zayne turns toward me. He lowers his shoulders, rushes forward, and pitches me over the side of the river barge.
I hit the water hard, breath forced out of my lungs, icy water closing over my head. For a heartbeat, everything is dark. My body screams with pain.
I kick toward the surface. The river pulls at my clothes, dragging me down. The sky is a faint blue glow above the water. I pull forward, my lungs burning, cold sinking into my arms and legs.
My head breaks the surface of the water, and I gasp. Someone is screaming. No, lots of people are screaming. I turn and see the river barge’s wide stern glowing with lanterns. Dark figures rush about on deck.
There’s a second splash, and another round of screams. I grin, despite everything.
That was Zayne jumping off the barge. By the time the sun comes up, he’ll have found a body wearing my black robes from the Towers.
It won’t be in the best of shape, given that it was caught in a mess of downed trees, but he’ll bring it back to the Towers anyway.
For a price.
“Stupid fucking plan,” I mutter to the river.
And then I start to swim toward the shore, and the clump of trees that should hide me until nightfall.