Chapter Eleven

Beneficence was stunning.

Anastasia stood on the deck and stared as the giant city state came into view. It was half-hidden in a haze, as if the city was permanently surrounded by a water tornado that threw up immense waves that battered against the rocks and dangerous fast-flowing currents that made it hard, if not impossible, to get into the sheltered harbour without following a very carefully laid out path. She felt water vapour brushing against her skin as she leaned forward, watching the giant rock looming out of the haze until it was towering over her, a giant mushroom with tiny houses and buildings perched on the top. Up close, there were dark shadows crawling over the sheer rock, strange flickering impressions that faded as the ship was steered into the final channel. She caught a brief glimpse of a handful of people working at the bottom of the rock, although she had no idea what they were doing, before the ship lurched and sailed into the basin. The wind dropped so abruptly she thought someone had cast a spell. It was incredibly disconcerting.

The harbour lay at the bottom of the towering rock, she noted, resting at sea level even as the rest of the city towered over it. It was larger than she’d thought, dozens of ships and small boats tied up at the jetty or making their way in and out of the harbour. A giant railway way … thingy roared as carriages made their way up to the town, taking a handful of passengers the easy way up; others, she noted wryly, had to clamber up ladders and stairs cut into the rock. The town was almost like a honeycomb, she saw, as the ship glided towards the jetty. Up close, she could see homes and warehouses carved into the rock, so deeply carved that she couldn’t help wondering how stable the city actually was. If the diggers kept undermining the rocky bastion, would they eventually collapse the city itself? Or was she overthinking it.

A gust of wind struck her face, bringing with it the stench of rotting fish. She gritted her teeth – she’d smelt worse on the free state – and forced herself to keep looking, drinking in the sight. A small beach, somehow incongruous against the rocky shores and steep cliffs, drew her eye, a handful of half-naked children running around playing with the sand or fishing in the shallow waters. Their older siblings and parents were swimming or fishing too … she wondered, absently, if they ever caught anything or if it was just a way to pass the time. She shook her head and turned away, just in time to see the sailors throw out ropes to the harbour crew. They worked as a skilled team, she noted, tying the ship to the dock and then throwing out the gangplank so it could be tied down too. They had arrived.

She returned to her cabin to collect her bag, then headed for the gangplank. Felix hadn’t so much as spoken a single word to her, after the almost-kiss, and the crew had left her alone, respecting her privacy in a manner that she found warm and welcoming, a far cry from having maids dress her for the daily grind or assist her with her toilet in a manner that ensured she was never truly alone. There was no one at the top of the gangplank, no one trying to check papers as the sailors hurried off the ship to the local bars and brothels. It was …

“Anastasia!”

Anastasia briefly considered ignoring Felix and simply walking onwards, but she didn’t quite dare. She wasn’t sure how much authority he had in the free city, yet … the last thing she needed was to draw attention. If the local authorities realised who she was, it could cause all manner of problems; if they didn’t, it might almost be worse. She braced herself and turned to face him, schooling her face into a blank mask. He looked as embarrassed as she felt.

“Here,” he said, pushing a purse into her hands. “For your business.”

“Thanks,” Anastasia said. “I …”

“You should stay in the Sailor’s Inn for the next few days,” Felix told her. “The harbour authorities might want to talk to you, about the pirates on the free state.”

“I’ll take that under advertisement,” Anastasia said. She wasn’t sure if he was being polite or if he were hinting she shouldn’t do as he said. She’d told him and his crew everything she could, without risking anything that would trigger the silencing curse, and … in truth, she knew very little he didn’t already know. The free state’s existence and location was hardly a secret. “Thank you for your assistance. I couldn’t have escaped without you.”

“And I thank you, in the name of the navy,” Felix said. “If there’s anything I can do for you …”

You can get me home, Anastasia thought, although she knew it was impossible. The curse was a constant reminder she couldn’t identify herself, let alone her homeland … she doubted she could even tell him about the curse. If he’d picked up on its existence and hired someone to break it … she shook her head. It hadn’t happened. You did everything you reasonably could for me.

She nodded once, then turned and walked down the gangplank. The stone jetty seemed to be shifting under her feet, something that puzzled and panicked her until she realised she’d gotten too used to being on the water. She kept walking, heading directly for the stairs leading up to the city, passing gangs of longshoremen, sailors and whores plying their trade. Small children ran through the streets, carrying messages from the harbour authorities and merchants to the ships resting in the harbour. She felt an odd little pang as she spied a young girl, working for a living and yet enjoying a freedom that had been denied to her. The idea of her leaving the castle without an escort was just … absurd. It wasn’t supposed to happen.

The stairs were steeper than she’d realised and crowded too, dozens of people striding up to the city as if they didn’t have a care in the world. She had been in crowded places before, but this … she gritted her teeth as she kept walking, feeling her legs starting to ache painfully. There was nowhere to stop and rest, the pressure of the crowd pushing her on even when she felt herself starting to slow. A loud rumble split the air as she saw the railway car rising to the top of the cliff, a handful of passengers staring out over the harbour below. She felt a flash of envy, mingled with a grim awareness she needed to save money. There was no telling how much she’d need to get back home.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she reached the top and staggered onto a balcony, staring out over the harbour. The basin was bigger than she’d thought, two giant rocky walls enclosing the water and sheltering the boats within from the elements. A haze of water vapour hung around the exit … she thought she saw, as she looked down, currents flowing in and out of the basin. It was hard to be sure.

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A man came up to her. “New in town?”

Anastasia studied him for a long moment. He was dressed like a commoner, but the way he held himself reminder her of a courtier who had little to offer beyond a glib tongue and a pretty smile, the kind of person who would flatter the princess endlessly because he had nothing else, gambling that she’d let her head be turned by flattery. She had heard horror stories of what happened to young women who let themselves be influenced, then seduced, by such men. They rarely recovered if the truth came out, no matter what happened afterwards.

She allowed herself a polite but edged smile. “Can you point me to the Mage’s Quarter?”

The man shivered, so subtly she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been watching for it. “It’s just down there,” he said, pointing. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Anastasia felt her smile grow wider as the man hurried away. She didn’t know what he wanted – it wasn’t as if he knew who she was, or if she could do anything for him in any case – but very few men would risk irritating a magician. Or someone who had ties to the local magicians. She shook her head, then took a moment to gather herself before walking into the streets. She had no idea where she was going, but there was nothing to be gained by standing around doing nothing. She needed a place to sleep, something to eat, and a chance to think.

The crowd pressed in around her as she kept walking, the streets so teeming with people that it felt as if she were trapped in a river. There were no class distinctions, as far as she could tell; men and women in fancy outfits brushed shoulders with people who were clearly fishermen or other workers, perhaps even serfs or servants. She saw women covered from head to toe walking beside women who wore something that barely covered their breasts and thighs, men who looked like courtiers standing besides men who were clearly workers or magicians, the latter the only ones given some space by the crowd. Her skin crawled as someone touched her rear, the sensation so faint she wasn’t sure it had been real. She kept one hand on her purse as she kept walking, looking for an inn. There was a harbour below. There had to be somewhere for visitors to stay.

Her eyes kept flickering from side to side, taking in the city. The buildings seemed to crowd the streets, each two or three stories high as if space was at a premium; she spotted few gardens, few public spaces … she spotted a library next to a school and made a mental note to check it out later, to see if it had textbooks on magic or even copies of the latest broadsheets from Rockall. The writers always claimed their newspapers were read right over the Allied Lands and if they were correct, she could finally find out what was going on back home. A whiff of spicy meat wafted against her nostrils, making her stomach growl. There was a long line of food carts, selling everything from meat and fish to treats and snacks. Behind them, she spotted hundreds of stalls selling goods from all over the world. She had never seen anything like it. There were markets back home, she’d been told, but she’d never been allowed to visit.

A hot flash of anger shot through her. She’d been foolish not to study magic, as well as everything else she needed now, but her upbringing had been deliberately circumscribed to keep her safe … safe from what? She was painfully naive about so many things … the remnants of the memories she’d absorbed mocked her, suggesting that she’d been kept ignorant to limit her ability to rule when she took the throne. It hadn’t been for her benefit, but ... she wondered, sourly, just who stood to benefit. Her father? He’d be dead when she took the throne.

They could have let me have some responsibility for myself, she thought, bitterly. I would have made mistakes, of course, but I would have learnt from them.

She forced herself to keep going, feeling a tingle running down her spine as she spotted the magical quarter. The street looked surprisingly ordinary, but there were a handful of magicians showing off parlour tricks for the tourists and several shops advertising everything from potion ingredients to enchanted trunks, magitech and a hundred other things she didn’t recognise. There looked to be fewer people further into the street, almost all magicians. The wards made the air sparkle with magic, a grim reminder that it wasn’t a place for the mundane.

A young man moved to block her way as she stepped into the street. “Do you have business here?”

“Yes,” Anastasia said. She’d heard that magicians politely but firmly discouraged mundanes from lingering within their territory. “I’m looking for an inn.”

The man studied her for a long moment. Anastasia couldn’t tell if he was trying to determine if she had magic or if he was looking for something else. His gaze was cool, assessing. She felt a twinge of unease, mingled with dark amusement. No one had tried to bar her way before because she was a princess, the sole heir to the throne. But here, she was no one.

“There are three within the quarter,” he said, finally. He pointed down the street. “The Rabid Wolf is the cheapest, but it is also no place for a young lady. The Wand Wizard or the Dog and Duck are much cleaner. I’d recommend the latter myself.”

“Thank you,” Anastasia said.

She nodded politely to him, then kept walking down the street. The air tingled with magic, even as the blatant displays of raw power faded away, the shops slowly being replaced by small houses that managed to look both jammed together and yet separated by powerful magics. A handful of magicians and their children looked at her oddly as she passed, but made no attempt to stop her. The female magicians walked with a confidence Anastasia could only admire, as if there was nothing they couldn’t handle. She felt a pang of envy as she stopped outside the Dog and Duck. If she were that powerful, Circe would never have been able to get the drop on her.

The door opened of its own accord, inviting her in. The interior was clean and brightly lit, the air smelling faintly of perfume and tasty food. She spotted a restaurant to one side, a handful of guests eating lunch and enjoying the day. Her stomach growled again, warningly. It had been hours since she’d eaten anything, and it wouldn’t be long before hunger overcame her.

“Welcome,” the receptionist said. She was a middle-aged young woman who reminded Anastasia of the castle’s housekeeper, an efficient and terrifying person who managed to be both powerful and friendly – and approachable – in a manner Anastasia could only envy. “I am Jeanette, owner and manager. What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to rent a room,” Anastasia said. She wasn’t sure how to proceed. She’d never done it before. “Three days, perhaps more.”

“I can give you a room for a week at a very discounted rate,” Jeanette said, with a wink. “Bed and breakfast, the latter served until noon. Lunch and dinner are not included.”

Anastasia nodded and handed over the money, wondering if she was being cheated. It was impossible to know, one way or the other. Jeanette checked the coins with a simple spell, then rang a bell. A young woman stepped out from the rear officer, so young Anastasia doubted she was any older than twelve.

“Marie, show our guest to Room Nine,” Jeanette ordered. She glanced at Anastasia. “If you want lunch, there’s a discount rate for guests. Just tell the staff when you go down.”

“Thank you,” Anastasia managed. Jeanette hadn’t asked for anything, beyond money and a single name. She supposed it didn’t matter to the manager who rented her rooms, as long as they paid. Better not to ask too many questions, if she wanted repeat business. “I’ll see you shortly.”

She allowed the young girl to lead her up a flight of stairs, looking around with interest. The corridors were surprisingly clean and tidy, the air warm and welcoming … compared to the free state, it was paradise incarnate. A handful of portraits hung on the walls, a couple charmed to suggest the eyes were following Anastasia as she walked down the corridor. One showed a blonde princess who looked too good to be true; another showed a brown-haired young woman carrying a wand in one hand and a pistol in the other. Anastasia made a mental note to study them later as Marie opened the door, then motioned her inside.

“It’s a simple room,” Marie said. Her voice was faint, as if she were nervous. It was quite possible her mother would blame her, if the guest wasn’t satisfied. “What do you think?”

Anastasia had to smile. The room was tiny, compared to her bedroom back home, and yet it was wonderful compared to the cabin Felix had given her. The bed was soft and warm, the window looked out onto the magic quarter, the washroom was wonderfully modern … she grinned as she saw the bathtub, promising herself a long soak after she’d had lunch. Her skin felt crusted with dirt and grime, even though she’d done her best to clean herself. The handful of wards protecting the chamber were just the icing on the cake.

“It’s wonderful,” she said. She passed Marie a coin, then put her bag on the bed. “I’ll be down for lunch shortly.”

Marie dropped a rough curtsey and retreated, closing the door behind her. Anastasia felt a twinge of envy, even though she knew there was little to envy. It wasn’t uncommon for maids to start young, entering service when they were ten or twelve, old enough to take instruction and yet young enough to be excused mistakes that would get an older woman whipped or fired. Marie was probably working for her mother, learning the ropes until the day she inherited the family business or went to magic school. If the latter, a strong work ethic would get her far …

Sure, a little voice pointed out, at the back of her mind. It sounded like Circe. And if you had developed a work ethic of your own, you wouldn’t be in this mess.