The Alcazar (The Cerulean Duology #2) - Amy Ewing Page 0,4
was ringed in hills, houses painted in cheery colors clustering around the central market, which Leo imagined was just inside the enormous white stucco structure with a red tile roof that loomed over the docks. The water was crystalline blue, a color that almost hurt to look at. It was all so idyllic, especially compared with the smog and steel and murky waters of Old Port. For a moment he wondered why their chauffeur, Eneas, had ever left this place.
He shuddered to think about what would have happened if he himself had never left, if the escape plan had failed—he’d be on a train somewhere in Kaolin right now, getting his palm sliced open daily by the actor James Roth. He’d be selling Sera’s blood along with Boris’s and Errol’s replenishing powers—well, not Boris’s, not since the poor tree burned. But the very thought made bile rise in his throat.
“What are you thinking of my heretical country, moulil?” Vada asked, slapping him on the back. Moulil was the Pelagan word for mule. She was always calling him things that weren’t his name. Mule, jackass, Face of Byrne, patriarchal idiot . . . it had bothered him at first but he didn’t mind anymore. It was just how Vada was.
“I think it’s beautiful,” he said, and his compliment seemed to both startle and please her.
“It’s gorgeous,” Agnes agreed. “But I don’t like the look of those ships.”
Off to their left was a sleek black schooner flying a flag with five red stars on it.
“Another Triumvirate patrol,” Vada said, her face darkening. “From the Lekke. You see the stars? Five red stars are the symbol of the Lekke. The Renalt crest is a golden sun and the Aerin, as you were seeing by her Misarros, uses a silver moon. I am not liking that all three queens voted to close the ports.”
“Is that unusual?” Leo asked.
“Most votes are two to one. And the Lekke is the most levelheaded of our queens and slow to take such a drastic action. If she has joined the other two in this decision, then I fear . . .”
Her voice trailed off.
“Fear what?” Leo asked, wondering if he really wanted to hear the answer.
“War,” she said.
It would be foolish of Kaolin to declare war on Pelago—their naval fleet was not nearly as skilled as Pelago’s armada. But then, if it was known that Kaolins were being arrested left and right and thrown in jail, how could the president of Kaolin do nothing? At some point, his hand would be forced. Leo just hoped they’d be well on their way to Braxos before that happened.
The schooner cruised up slowly to the port, only allowed to dock and lower the gangplank once Violetta had produced Rowen’s letter.
“Right,” Vada said. “Face of a Byrne and I will be going to the market. You all need new clothes, disguises.” She glanced at Sera. “Especially you. I will have to be asking my mother if the Maiden’s Wail can carry you to Ithilia—she may not be wanting to risk it after what happened today. Maybe I wait until she has had a few whiskeys.”
“I’d like to go to the market too,” Agnes protested.
“No,” Vada said firmly. “If something were to happen, Sera would be on her own. Besides, I would very much like to walk the markets of Arbaz with a Byrne.” She cackled. “Diana Oleary will not be charging me twelve aurums for that honeyed piss she calls mead today!”
They waited until the other sailors had unloaded the ship’s cargo before disembarking. The last piece was a crate with a heavy padlock on it.
“What’s in there?” Leo asked.
“None of your damned business,” Vada replied. “And remember, no more Kaolish. From now on, you speak only Pelagan.”
Leo huffed and made a face, but Vada’s back was to him, already striding down the gangplank, leaving him no choice but to follow.
The docks were swarming with people, mostly sailors and other rough types with weathered faces and tough, tanned skin. But there were Misarros too, striding through the crowds with imposing looks, various metals glinting at their necks and on their arms. Leo thought they would easily give the Old Port City police force a run for their money.
“I am not liking this one bit,” Vada muttered as a Misarro with a moon on her tunic grabbed an urchin boy by the collar and dragged him off. Leo kept close as they headed toward the entrance to the market, a huge archway in