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Chapter 11

Escaping the palace turned out to be easier than Quinn expected. She suspected it was partially due to the chaos of the food in the palace turning black, and partially the frantic search for Meyron the Black in both human and dragon form that caused the guards to overlook three more panicking “nobles” running out of the palace.

Word had reached Madam Karliah before they even arrived.

“The food turned and killed people?” Madam Karliah asked as soon as they were alone in the upstairs room. “Please tell me this is a gross exaggeration.”

“No exaggeration, ma’am,” said Quinn as she started tossing belongings into the new bags Meyron had. Lucky for them, the seamstress dropped off the remainder of their order while they were out. “But this wasn’t necromancy.” She licked her lips, debating on whether she should continue. “I’ve seen this before.” It was only a matter of time before she had to divulge the missing pieces of her story.

Lady Tellmar sat on one of the beds as the shock of her situation settled on her. Quinn knew the feeling. One moment life is normal, and the next you’re on the run. It would’ve been worse if she had as much to lose as Lady Tellmar.

“How terrible for you, my lady,” Karliah said to Lady Tellmar, and set a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Let me bring up some tea to soothe your nerves.”

“Ryia,” said Lady Tellmar, her gaze still on the floor. “I don’t want to be called Lady Tellmar anymore. You can all call me Ryia.”

“Of course.” Karliah’s expression fell, and gave them one last glance before departing to bring back tea.

“I don’t want to think about what this will cost me,” said Ryia, and began pulling pins from her hair. It fell in curls down past her shoulders and halfway down her back. “It’s no secret that I possess the power of necromancy, though I have only ever used it in private. Once word reaches my father I’ll be put out of our home in Lorin, and I won’t join them on Paradise Island.”

“Sounds like we came by at just the right time,” said Ben. His optimism was the only shining thing in the room, and Ryia smiled a little. “Now you can come with us and you won’t have to worry what will happen to you.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “I must say, it’s awfully suspicious this happens on the day you came to fetch me.”

“I thought so, too,” Quinn said as she fought to close the first bag. “I’m hoping Meyron can help shed more light, and perhaps connect what happened at the palace today and…” Quinn trailed off, the image of the woman holding her baby as she choked to death burned permanently into her mind. “It is no coincidence.”

They stayed long enough to slurp down hot tea and pack their things. Madam Karliah sent them off with a sealed message for Meyron, a quick sketch of how to get to the docks, and a bulging bag of food. When Quinn relayed Meyron’s words, ‘It has begun’, it was like a blanket settled over the place and her normally bright and cheery eyes turned determined. Quinn didn’t know what it meant, not really, but the change was palpable.

For the first time since coming to Rainon and meeting Meyron, Quinn entered the Gray and gave her nearly starved bundle of vines an order: protect. They reached out lazily in a loose circle that encompassed the three of them. It took a lot of concentration, and the brightness of the human bodies hurt her eyes. She only allowed her vines to take rats, which seemed to teem with abundance in the Capital, and Ben looked at her sideways. Magic welled up quickly, and she had enough to defend them after only a few minutes.

“You’re doing something,” he said. “I can’t see it but I can feel it.”

“So can I,” Ryia agreed. “I’ve never been able to feel anyone else’s magic before.” She sighed. “It’s a relief. I’ve hidden my abilities for so long I wasn’t sure I had them anymore.”

Quinn managed a tight smile, but conversation was beyond her ability at the moment. The more her vines fed the more they wanted, and the massive crowds of the Market Square appealed to them greatly. She ordered them to stop, and the little lights of small lives stopped winking out.

They moved swiftly through the city, following Karliah’s sketch for every turn and she kept them away from the main streets, but her vines could still sense them, pulsating like veins and arteries, leading to and from the heart that was the Market Square.

She handed the sketch to Ben when sweat beaded on her forehead. They weren’t in immediate danger, but her vines were in danger of breaking free from the protection circle and she needed to reel them in. If she was lucky, she could stay in the Gray and still be ready for any potential attacks.

And then they reached the lake. Quinn took no more chances and let the Gray wink out entirely. The crowds were thinner, but only because of the overwhelming number of wagons, horses, carriages and carts waiting to make deliveries to and from the barges that sat placidly in the water. The smell of muddy water, fish and human stench assaulted their noses.

“How are we supposed to find her in this mess?” Ryia asked, standing up on her toes to look for the unmistakable head of black hair.

“I don’t think she’s here,” said Quinn. “She left in dragon form and didn’t have anything with her. If she’s human again, she’ll be naked.”

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The other two whipped their heads around.

“So downriver,” Ben said, and scanned around. After a moment he pointed. “There. Smaller boats, for personal travel. Come on, we’ll find her faster if we’re on a boat heading to Lorin.”

City guards stood watch at each entrance and exit, and some stood by the larger docks where more expensive merchandise was handled. Quinn hadn’t noticed any in the Market Square, but she wasn’t looking out for them either.

A path through the crowd formed for Ben, and they tailed him closely. Neither he or Ryia seemed to be looking at anything other than their destination, but Quinn felt like she was reliving her escape from her hometown, boat and all.

They reached the dock for personal vessels and captains and crew either waited for their passengers or hollered out to passerby to book passage to Lorin. Ben continued further down the dock, which put their backs to the city and she felt a tingle go down her spine. Church bells tolled in the distance to indicate it was noon, and another brassier bell could’ve meant several things, but Quinn felt in her chest it meant a guard shift change. Shift changes meant information exchanges. If anyone saw them exit the carriage with Meyron, they would be cutting off all boats trying to leave the city.

“Just pick one; if the guards are going to be onto us it’ll happen right now at the shift change,” Quinn snapped, and marched up to a nearly toothless man lounging on the dock while a young woman no older than herself directed the sailors.

“Lookin’ for passage to Lorin?” asked the man. He hopped up with more spryness in his step than one would’ve expected. “For the three of ye? That’ll be ten gold pieces.” Ben and Ryia’s jaws both dropped.

“For passage on this poor excuse for a vessel?” Ryia said, injecting every ounce of haughty disbelief into the statement.

“How about you take fifteen and keep your mouth shut,” said Quinn and handed the man his gold. “And we leave now.”

“That’s more like it,” he said, and shot Ryia a glare. “Come on, in you go. Captain! We got passengers and they paid to leave quickly.”

The woman below paused her supervision of the docks to watch them cross the gangplank. She wore a sword at her hip and a wide brimmed hat to keep the sun out of her already tanned face. A piece of something was held in place between her lips, and she appeared to be chewing it. Some kind of plant that Quinn didn’t recognize.

“Then let’s not keep the ladies and gentleman waiting,” said the captain. “Show them to the two cabin rooms. Welcome aboard the Happy Kipper, my lady.” She gave Quinn a shallow bow.

“I’m no lady,” said Quinn, and the captain smirked a little.

“You carry the gold,” she said. “And you appear to be in charge. So as far as I’m concerned, you are, my lady. I am Captain Lily, the man you met earlier is my first mate Skrall. Ask either of us if you need anything. The food isn’t great, but it’s better than starving and someone will ring the bell when it’s ready.”

“Thank you, Captain.” She gave Quinn a nod and returned to work.

Quinn remained behind and watched Ben and Ryia follow Skrall into the cabin. Memories of her escapes flitted in her mind, sometimes replaying the scenes from the Wind Song caravan, sometimes picturing what may happen on this journey, and snippets of the horrible day at sea during her first attempted escape from Cinder. How long had she been running from one thing or another? She shook her head and wondered what it would be like to no longer run.

As promised, the gangplank was pulled and the ropes untied and within minutes their hired vessel was pushing into the open water of Lake Yew. Oars from below protruded from the sides and pushed the Happy Kipper into deeper water. Further away from the shore the water cleared up and shone a clear crystal blue. Quinn stood out of the way and found a place at the front so she could see both shores when they left the lake and reached the river.

Commotion broke out on the docks behind them, loud enough to carry over the good distance of open water between them. Where the Happy Kipper was docked, a handful of city guards shouted and several bystanders stood nearby and pointed at them. In a matter of minutes, they were too far away to make out and she let out a sigh.

The steady rhythm of the oars pulling through the water allowed Quinn to relax and she sat cross-legged at the bow and let the wind whip her hair around. Strands of her hair escaped from her braid and she didn’t bother fixing it. She was just glad she didn’t have to wear her hair up like Ryia’s anymore.

“Seems like we left just in time,” said Captain Lily. Her boots on the dock announced her arrival. “Any trouble I should expect?” The woman wasn’t upset, only curious.

“A misunderstanding,” said Quinn. “And we are expecting another, though I’m not certain when we’ll see her.” The captain gave her an odd look.

As if summoned, a low-flying figure too big to be a bird emerged from a copse of trees to the south and barely skimmed the water. Shouts from other boats making the journey to Lorin erupted when she passed, and she screeched at one when a piece of cutlery was tossed at her. Meyron shifted course directly towards the Happy Kipper. Captain Lily’s expression soured.

“Your fourth, I assume,” she said, and Quinn dug out five more gold pieces and put them in her hand. It would seem the gold from the bounty hunter wasn’t going to last.

“She won’t stay in dragon form,” said Quinn, and watched Meyron land clumsily on the roof of the cabin, sending wooden tiles flying. The boat wobbled with the added weight of a dragon, though she was small, and every sailor on board stopped what they were doing to gape at her. She made odd chittering sounds, like a crow, until she spotted Quinn and then let out a full and deafening shriek. She slapped her hands over her ears until the dragon was done.

Meyron hopped down onto the deck, her claws making scratches in the wood. She sniffed at Quinn, seeing she had changed and seeing she wasn’t injured.

“Ben and Ryia are inside,” she said, and Meyron cocked her head. “Lady Tellmar. She insists on being called Ryia now. I’ll go get your clothes and bring them out.” More chittering noises of acknowledgment, and she sat on her haunches and waited, staring imperiously at the crew.

“Get back to work,” the captain called out, and then nodded to Meyron. Meyron nodded back. The men skittered back to work, making a point to avoid the dragon. “I do believe I’ve seen it all, now.” The sound that emitted from Meyron’s throat sounded an awful lot like a laugh.

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