way like she knew her mother’s own face. Sand-colored
and wind-carved, not worn by the sun but gilded by it. The Long Sea crashed fifty feet below, kicking up
spray in rhythm with the tide. Olive and cypress trees grew over the hills, and the wind blew kindly,
smelling of salt and oranges.
A good day, she thought again, turning her face to the sun.
Her guardian, Kastio, walked at her side, his body weathered by decades on the waves. Gray-haired
with furious black eyebrows, the old Siscarian sailor was darkly tanned from fingertips to toes. He
walked at an odd pace, suffering from old knees and permanent sea legs.
“Any more dreams?” he asked, glancing at his charge sidelong. His vivid blue eyes searched her face
with the focus of an eagle.
Corayne shook her head, blinking tired eyes. “Just excited,” she offered, forcing a thin smile to placate
him. “You know I barely sleep before the ship returns.”
The old sailor was easily thrown off.
He doesn’t need to know about my dreams, nor does anyone. He would certainly tell Mother, who would
make it all the more unbearable with her concern.
But they still come every night. And, somehow, they’re getting worse.
White hands, shadowed faces. Something moving in the dark.
The memory of the dream chilled her even in broad daylight, and she sped up, as if she could outrun her
own mind.
Ships made their way along the Empress Coast toward the Lemartan port. They had to sail up the gullet
of the city’s natural harbor, in full sight of the road and the watchtowers of Siscaria. Most of the towers
were relics of Old Cor, near ruins of storm-washed stone, named for emperors and empresses long
gone. They stood out like teeth in a half-empty jaw. The towers still standing were manned by old
soldiers or land-bound sailors, men in their twilight.
“What’s the count this morning, Reo?” Corayne asked as she passed the Tower of Balliscor. In the
window stood its single keeper, a decaying old man.
He waggled a set of wrinkled fingers, his skin worn as old leather. “Only two in beyond the point. Blue-
green sails.”
Aquamarine sails, she corrected in her head, marked with the golden mermaid of Tyriot. “You don’t miss
a trick, do you?” she said, not breaking stride.
He chuckled weakly. “My hearing might be going, but my eye’s sharp as ever.”
“Sharp as ever!” Corayne echoed, fighting a smirk.
Indeed two Tyri galleys were past Antero Point, but a third ship crawled through the shallows, in the
shadow of the cliffs. Difficult to spot, for those who did not know where to look. Or those paid to look
elsewhere.
Corayne left no coin behind for the half-blind watchman of Balliscor, but she dropped the usual bribes at
the towers of Macorras and Alcora. An alliance bought is still an alliance made, she thought, hearing her
mother’s voice in her head.
She gave the same to the gatekeeper at the Lemarta walls, though the port city was small, the gate
already open, Corayne and Kastio well known. Or at least my mother is well known, well liked, and well
feared in equal measure.
The gatekeeper took the coin, waving them onto familiar streets overgrown with lilac and orange
blossoms. They perfumed the air, hiding the smells of a crowded port, somewhere between small city
and bustling town. Lemarta was a bright place, the stone buildings painted in the radiant colors of
sunrise and sunset. On a summer morning, the market streets crowded with tradespeople and
townsfolk alike.
Corayne offered smiles like her coin: an item to trade. Like always, she felt a barrier between herself and
the throng of people, as if she were watching them through glass.
Farmers drove their mules in from the cliffs, carting vegetables, fruits, and grain. Merchants shouted
their wares in every language of the Long Sea. Dedicant priests walked in lines, their robes dyed in
varying shades to note their orders. The blue-cloaked priests of Meira were always most numerous,
praying to the goddess of the waters. Sailors waiting for a tide or a wind already idled in seden
courtyards, drinking wine in the sunshine.
A port city was many things, but above all a crossroads. While Lemarta was insignificant in the scheme
of the world, she was nothing to sneer at. She was a good place to drop anchor.
But not for me, Corayne thought as she quickened her pace. Not one second longer.
A maze of steps took them down to the docks, spitting Corayne and Kastio out onto the stone walkway
edging