“As you wish.”
The net unraveled, dropping Tamri roughly onto the ground. Khrillin drew the silvery power in through his ringed fingers, giving Tamri a dark, considering look. She managed to meet his gaze defiantly, even though it made her want to sink right through the stone floor.
Then the king turned to the Vertigonians and plastered on a charming smile. “Shall we see to our dinner now that you’ll be staying an extra night, Princess?”
“Oh yes, I would love to visit that place in the Port District my brother told me about.”
“It’s among my favorites. Their grilled eel and brindleweed are famed throughout the continent. And I know how much you love sugar mushrooms.”
“That sounds delightful.”
The princess winked at Tamri and returned to the darkwood table, continuing to chat about food with Khrillin. The tension of moments ago had been shoved down as if it never existed.
None of the Waterworkers or guards knew what to do with Tamri now that the foreign princess had claimed her. She crouched in the center of the room, still not believing what had just happened. Had the princess of Vertigon really just offered her a chance to study Wielding in the legendary mountain kingdom?
A hand landed on her shoulder, and she jumped.
“Easy there.” Heath stood over her, wearing an expression of intense disapproval. “Be back here at dawn and pack light. I won’t have you slowing the dragons.”
“I can go?”
Heath glanced at Brik, who was scowling as though his birthday had been canceled. “Do you want to stay here?”
Tamri had a thousand questions, but with another furtive look at the princess who had saved her from Khrillin’s justice, she fled.
4
Tamri left the audience chamber at a run. Her skin smarted from the icy Watermight net, and she couldn’t help feeling this was some cruel joke, and Brik would step into her path to begin her real punishment at any moment. She could still smell his foul breath and feel the terror as the Watermight net scooped her up, ending her desperate escape attempt.
As she found her way back to the tower’s central stairwell, she glimpsed Pel being hauled down a side corridor. He was babbling to his captors, offering them information, assistance, anything to avoid being punished.
“It wasn’t my idea, I swear. I’ll lead you to the masterminds if you let me go!”
Tamri picked up her pace, hoping Pel wouldn’t spot her. He wouldn’t hesitate to pin the whole thing on her. That was just how Pendark was. Friendship didn’t get you far, and people never spoke up for each other.
Why had that princess risked Khrillin’s ire to defend Tamri, someone she’d never even met? And why had he agreed to the request?
Fearing the king would change his mind, she stomped down the stairwell as fast as she could. Elegant drawing rooms and elaborate archways eventually gave way to crowded barracks with plain wooden doors. At the bottom of the tower, she dashed across the cobblestone courtyard and out the gates, not slowing until she reached the drawbridge leading off King’s Island.
She paused to look back at the battlements. A pair of scarlet wings stretched above the stone crenellations. The red dragon screeched, and whether the sendoff was meant for her or not, Tamri took it as her cue to keep moving.
She crossed the wooden bridge and hurried down a busy Royal District street, dodging passersby with her usual agility. Their eyes slid away from her, as if they couldn’t bear to look at a grubby little urchin with her bare feet and a muddy tunic. Midnight-blue flags declaring allegiance to Khrillin flew from every shop and balcony, and the boats on the nearest canals displayed similar colors.
Before long, she reached the Market District, where the red flags of the local Waterlady flew proudly. Market District was more canal than island. Tamri slipped onto a flat-bottomed ferry to continue her journey, hiding behind a rotund fruit seller so she wouldn’t have to pay the fare. She crouched in the stern, hoping the muscular fellow poling the ferry along the waterway wouldn’t notice her. Only when the Royal District disappeared from view completely did she start to believe she’d truly escaped.
The ferry meandered among market barges and smaller shops floating on the swampy water. The fine sandalwood boat where the Red Lady of the Market District oversaw the buying and selling of Watermight looked especially busy today. The canals emitted a rank odor in the late-summer heat, and small creatures floated in the shallows, watching for dropped crumbs.
Gliding along the busy waterway calmed Tamri’s anxiety and gave her a chance to think things through. Upon consideration, she was sure Brik’s threats and not her Watermight skills had prompted Princess Selivia to speak up for her. Any woman could guess at the kind of “punishments” a man like that would have in mind. But did the princess really want Tamri to study at this magic-wielder school in Vertigon?
The mysterious mountaintop kingdom was hundreds of miles to the north. The most powerful man and woman on the continent, King Sivarrion Amintelle and his Fire Queen, Dara, ruled in Vertigon. Some said she had been the one to sack the land of Trure and burn its cities and fields to ash five years ago. Others said she had defeated an evil Fire sorcerer who would have destroyed Pendark and Soole as well as Trure if he had his way. Pel had even claimed the Fire Queen was responsible for awakening the true dragons and unleashing them on the continent after they’d been asleep for centuries.
The ferry bumped into a dock. Tamri slipped overboard and splashed to shore through the shallows so no one would realize she hadn’t paid for her ride. She scrambled out of the water and continued on, the fish and ash smells of the nearby Smokery District enveloping her like a cloud of flies. She took a shortcut along a rocky causeway, holding her breath against the stink.
No matter which rumor was accurate, Queen Dara didn’t sound like someone who would take the time to train a bunch of children. All the powerful Waterworkers Tamri had ever encountered were exceedingly cautious about who they taught to Wield. They never knew which apprentice would be the one to rise up and try to seize their power. Even if Tamri had been born to a wealthy family, she might never have been offered a chance to learn. She had figured out most of what she could do with the Watermight on her own.
She left the cloying aromas of the Smokery District behind and turned toward the East Port District. A strong breeze blew in from the Black Gulf, cooling the sweat running down her forehead. The familiar salty air brought her thudding back to reality. No matter how intriguing this Fire Queen and her school were, Tamri couldn’t actually go. She would never abandon Gramma Teall.
Her grandmother’s hut was only a few blocks from the Gulf, set on rickety stilts that threatened to collapse every time the neighborhood flooded. Technically, this ramshackle neighborhood was part of the Gutter District, the term used for the scattered veins of the city too poor to warrant the attention of a Waterlord.
Despite the stilt hut’s location, the sea wasn’t visible from here. It had been months since Gramma Teall felt well enough to totter down to the beach without Tamri’s assistance. She wished she could be home more, but the Watermight-stealing business got more competitive every day. It was all she could do to keep their heads above water.
Tamri reached the hut and climbed the driftwood steps to her grandmother’s porch. Their neighbor, a fisherman who was too old for the work he still did, nodded at her from the next porch, where he was mending brightly colored lures with trembling fingers.