Chapter 3
Coals still glowed in the ruins the next morning as Tal trailed behind Carrick through the ash-covered streets.
He stopped next to a mule-drawn cart with two children sitting within.
The father pulled at a large stone blocking the cart’s path.
Carrick helped remove the stone while Tal scanned the children.
Their clothes needed washing, and soot coated their faces.
Three cloth bags and a crate of food sat in the cart between them.
“Where you headed?” Carrick asked.
“North,” the man said. “Our home burned down in the fire. There’s nothing left for us here.”
Tal noticed the burns on his arms. One of the children’s faces bore an angry red rash and scorched hair on one side. Tear tracks marked her cheeks, and she gripped Carrick’s jar of pink salve in her tiny fist.
“Take this.” Carrick handed the man two pieces of coin, and Tal shook her head.
The father pushed Carrick’s hand back. “No. Thank you, but we will manage. Thank you for your help.” He climbed into the cart and urged the mule onward.
“That bleeding heart of yours is going to give away all our money,” Tal teased while they watched the small family go.
“They’re not the only ones leaving.” He nodded toward the pier, where people boarded an awaiting ship with nothing but the clothes on their backs.
Tal surveyed the ruined buildings. A man dusted off a wooden sign in front of what used to be the tailor’s shop.
Another added pieces of broken wood to a basket.
Children dressed in dirty rags hopped from a fallen stone to balance along a charred wooden beam.
“But more are staying. They’ll pick up the pieces. ”
“And what if they attack again? How much more of this can these people take?”
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “What can we do Carrick? What power do we have against these mages? We’re just a bunch of misfit orphans who’ve managed to scare a few thugs into leaving us alone. We’d be signing our own death bounty if we even thought of standing against them.”
“We’ll be signing our own death bounty and everyone else’s if we do nothing and let them tear this place apart.” He gestured to the still-warm coals behind them. “And what if they’re the ones responsible for all the people going missing lately? Are we going to give up on the poor souls?”
She hadn’t given up on them. She needed to find them—if nothing more than to prove that their kingdom could still be safe.
Despite those leaving now and the countless others before them, life could continue in Meladair.
It always would for Talwyn. This was her home. She sighed but didn’t say anything.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Despite being two heads taller and nearly twice as wide, his enormous presence gave Tal stability.
His companionship made the difficult life in the docks enjoyable.
The gods had smiled down on her in that one moment where he chose to befriend her.
Without him, Tal would have left long ago or joined the dead.
She sighed. “We’ll continue to look for the missing, but we won’t engage with the mages. Not unless they are a direct threat. Okay?”
“You got it, Tal.” His voice revealed his doubt of her conviction.
“I mean it. We stay away from them. Your dreams of being king of the docks died with Pochette’s businesses.”
He nodded. “Sure. Whatever you say.”
Tal jabbed his ribs with one of her knuckles. He flinched away before messing her hair. She slapped his hand away, laughing with him. The moment faded quickly as the scene around them came back into focus.
They continued through the devastation, watching the ships come and go in the distance.
Rubbish floated down the river. Children played among the soot and grime while people all around picked up the pieces of what had been destroyed.
And the sun set over the dirty, crime-filled town they called home.
They returned late, expecting everyone to be asleep. A high-pitched sob echoed through the tunnel. Carrick’s brown eyes mirrored her own confusion. They each drew a weapon, preparing for a fight. The voice came from Egan’s room, a dead-end covered by a torn and weathered blanket.
“I tried to stop them, but they just pushed me back. They didn’t even have to try that hard.” The child hiccupped. “My stupid knife didn’t even reach them. They took her and laughed in my face.”
Talwyn sheathed her dagger and pulled the blanket back.
A small boy, about eight, stood opposite Egan at the table.
He faced away from them. His clothes hung in tatters over his skeletal frame, while filth covered his clothing and every inch of his exposed skin.
His short blonde hair had been cut at odd angles as if someone had hacked it away in haste.
“Took who?” Carrick said, all business and booming power.
The boy jumped and turned his tear-stained face to the sound.
Talwyn had to bite her lip to stop herself from gasping at the boy’s state.
Even more dirt and grime covered his face, save for the streaks made by his tears.
His cheeks were sunken from malnutrition, and his eyes bulged.
He had scrapes and cuts all along his exposed skin, some new, others in various stages of healing or infection.
The boy stiffened when he saw Talwyn. The children of the docks knew her to be cold and unforgiving.
She’d used them on numerous bounties throughout the years as an easy source of information.
It hadn’t been easy to gain their trust, but once she’d earned it, a basket of food was all she needed to get them to talk.
No one ever looked twice at the children; they certainly wouldn’t suspect the sickly orphan was about to sell the exact details of their crime for a loaf of bread.
“My sister.” He sniffed, holding his chin high. “The baker said you’re looking for his niece. Can you help me?”
Talwyn clenched her teeth. Another kidnapping. She stepped to the child and bent down on one knee. “What’s your name?”
“Janin.” He sniffled again. “Can you help me?”
Talwyn avoided his plea. “How old is your sister?”
“Five.”
“They’re taking five-year-olds now?” Carrick interrupted. “When will this end, Tal?”
Talwyn ignored him and continued her line of questioning. She kept her voice calm as much to help him as to organize her thoughts into a plan of action. They would find this one. They would bring her home. “Who took her?”
“Mages. Two of them,” Egan spoke for this time.
Tal jerked her attention to Egan.
“And they had two other men, but they were strange,” the boy continued.
Tal attempted to keep the unease out of her voice when she asked, “Strange how?”
Janin sucked in a breath. “They had no faces.”
Carrick and Talwyn locked eyes then. Any hope the mages had left dissolved in an instant.
Her whole world began crashing down. She couldn’t ignore the coincidences and cursed herself for not investigating the prior disappearances further.
But Sybil hadn’t seen anything to suspect a connection to the mages that attacked her homeland.
Why would they venture this far north? What would they want with the common folk? Could all of those missing have magic?
“Where were you when they took her? Which way did they go?” Talwyn formed a plan in her mind. She just needed to know where to look, and she could get the boy’s sister back.
“We were in the alley behind the bakery. That’s why the baker came out. He heard us screaming.” Silent tears streaked down his face, but his voice stayed even.
Talwyn nodded. “Good. Did you see which way they took her?”
His face crumpled. “They threw her in a cart with the street rubbish. I think they’re taking her to the incinerator.” Janin sobbed, and Egan came around the table to put an arm around the boy.
Talwyn and Carrick were on their feet, walking swiftly in the direction of the twins’ corridors. The entire kingdom once sent their rubbish to the incinerator to be burned and then dumped into the Taralin River, but it had been abandoned long ago.
“Why would they go there? It’s a dead end,” Carrick spoke more to himself than to Talwyn.
If the mages took the girl to the incinerator, it meant only one thing. “Because they have no plans of taking her out of the docks.”
“What in the hells is going on? It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, and it’s all going to shit. Murdering children? Do you really think they’re capable of that?”
“We don’t know anything about them beyond what the twins saw years ago. And you can bet your ass they’re powerful enough to instill fear in more than just some dockside thug like Pochette.” They split at the end of the tunnel. Talwyn tore the ragged blanket from the entrance to Sybil’s room.
“I heard. What’s the plan?” Sybil stood with her foot resting on the chair similar to the one in Egan’s room. An assortment of knives, daggers, and other weapons lay on the table as Sybil strapped each one to a hidden sheath on her body.
“The incinerator. We need a way in and a way out.”
Sybil nodded. “On it.”