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  Cassius hesitated, then shook his head. “I’m not certain how, but the Maarin have a way.”

  “Do you have proof?”

  “Of a sort.” Cassius pulled several ledgers in front of him. “These are from Maarin ships we detained.”

  “What motivated you to detain them?” Celendor’s ironclad treaty with the Maarin included terms that prevented their ships from being boarded unless they broke the Empire’s laws.

  A slow smile worked its way onto the consul’s lips. “An unexpected piece of information fell into my lap that allowed me to charge them with paganism.”

  That was unexpected and yet … not. The Maarin kept apart and always had. That they had practices and beliefs that didn’t fall in line with the Empire’s wasn’t surprising, but that Cassius—and the Senate—had been willing to endure the disruption to trade that would come from this was. A far better thing to just purchase the information from the Maarin rather than to force it from them.

  “One set of ledgers,” Cassius continued, “shows the ship’s activities throughout the Empire. But this set, which we found in the secret compartment with the maps, shows activities in the places whose names correspond with the western half of the map.”

  It was an incredible revelation. The existence of a whole new world. The ripples of the news would extend up and down the Empire, especially the news that the Maarin were moving back and forth between them. But the problem of the Endless Seas and their many hazards remained. “Even if the Maarin could be compelled to share their route through the doldrums, there is a huge difference between one merchant vessel and her crew sailing for months and a fleet carrying a legion or two.”

  “Not months. Days.” Cassius smiled. “Look at the dates.”

  Marcus paired the ledgers, eyeing the circled dates. “Could be an error.”

  “An error made dozens of times?” Taking the ledgers back, Cassius flipped through the pages, showing example after example of instances where the Maarin appeared to have leapt from one side of the world to another. And there was only one way that could be done.

  “It has to be somewhere at sea for them to be taking their ships through it,” Marcus murmured, trying to conceive of the amount of nerve it would require to sail a vessel through one of the crystal pathways. He’d used the established land-based paths with their well-guarded terminuses, but each time it was almost more than he could do to reach out and take hold of the crystal, never knowing for certain what would greet him on the other side. Fire. Flood. An enemy waiting to pick his men off one by one.

  “I’m inclined to agree,” Cassius replied. “But nothing is marked on any of the maps. And we were unable to excise the information from any of the crew. Not with any amount of force.”

  Which likely meant the crew in question were now dead. Or wished they were. Marcus asked, “They denied its existence?”

  “Not precisely.” Cassius’s lip curled with distaste. “Though it’s of no matter. Even as we speak, our navy is moving to intercept several influential Maarin ships. They have the information we need; it’s merely a matter of extracting it.”

  “And when you do?”

  “Then we send an … exploration party across the Endless Seas.” Cassius’s smile was feral. “A party you could lead, Legatus. An endeavor which, if you were successful, would make you the most famous commander in Celendor’s history.”

  Fame was the least of Marcus’s concerns, just as exploration was the least of the Senate’s desires. But to walk on the far side of Reath, to see lands that until now had been nothing more than myth … that was worth something to him. As was the opportunity to be out from underneath the Senate’s thumb. To do things his way.

  But one question remained to be asked. “Why me?”

  “You are said to be the sharpest mind to ever graduate from Campus Lescendor, Legatus. Undefeatable. I’d be a fool to choose anyone else.”

  And Marcus would be a fool to believe such flattery. Crossing his arms, he waited for the man who’d soon control the entire Empire to name his price.

  Cassius was quiet for a long minute before he spoke again. “I suppose there is no point circling the issue. In exchange for the command, I want you to kill someone for me. Kill her, and make sure the body is never found.”

  Marcus’s chin jerked up. “I’m no murderer.”

  “On the contrary, Legatus, that is exactly what you are. A professional killer. Which is precisely what I need. I don’t want some hack to botch the job or lose his nerve at the last moment. Or to hesitate because she’s a girl. I can’t see you hesitating. Man, woman, babe—it makes no difference to you, does it?”

  Marcus laughed, the sound harsh. It always came back to Chersome. He wondered what people would think if they knew what really happened on that forsaken isle. “You’re dreaming. If I were caught, they’d hang me for it.”

  The soon-to-be consul’s expression was cold. “If you don’t do it, you’ll hang. And you won’t hang alone.”

  Blood roared in Marcus’s ears. Blackmail. That was why Cassius wanted him—because he could control Marcus. Even on the far side of the world, he could control him.

  The consul gestured for him to sit, but Marcus ignored him.

  “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” Cassius said, sighing deeply.

  Denying it was futile, but Marcus still asked, “Come to what?”

  Cassius snorted and shook his head. “I know that you are the eldest son of the Domitius family. I know that your parents sent you instead of your brother to Campus Lescendor. And everyone knows that is a capital offense. No one, not even a senator, gets to cherry-pick which of their children to send to the legions, else the blade of the Empire would be made up of … well, it would be made up of young men like you.”

  There was no sense pretending it wasn’t the truth. “If you harm them,” Marcus said quietly, “I will gut you from stem to stern and stake you out in the sun for the crows to feast on.”

  “Now, now, Legatus. No need for threats. The last thing I want is for your family to come to harm. I’ve known them for a good many years, after all.” He leaned back on the divan. “My memories of you as a child are as vivid as if they were yesterday. You were such a wheezy, runty little thing—always chasing after the other children only to collapse in a faint, their dust settling on your pale little face.”

  Marcus glared at him, wanting to cut him off but knowing it was the prudent course to hear him out.

  “It is, even now, easy to see why your father chose to do what he did.” Cassius smiled. “They sent you two boys off to the healing mineral springs. One last brotherly adventure before young Marcus was sent to join the legions and Gaius returned to resume his position as heir to the Domitius fortune.” Cassius flung up his hands. “And lo and behold, six months later young Gaius returned as hale and healthy as a young man could want to be and his brother, Marcus, disappeared into the great machine of our legions, never to be heard from again.”

  “Get to it, Cassius.”

  “Of course, of course. As it so happens, I partook of the healing waters myself some years after.” Cassius peered into his cup and made a face at seeing it was empty. “A moment. I find myself parched.” He poured himself more wine, obviously enjoying his performance. Settling back on the divan, he took a long mouthful. “By chance, I met the physician who treated young Gaius, and though he was reluctant to divulge information about his patients, he eventually confessed that the young boy had not improved at all with the treatments.”

  And there was the proof. All the rest was speculation, but the word of a university-trained physician in the courts would be damning, because any physician worth his salt would be able to examine Marcus and his brother to determine which one of them possessed the affliction.

  “I can only imagine what it must have been like for you,” Cassius said. “Not only were you disinherited of one of the greatest fortunes in the Empire, but you were abandoned by your family. Because they wanted you
less than your brother.”

  Marcus forced himself to appear calm. Having this man drag the worst moment of his life out into the open and rub it in his face was bad enough, but allowing Cassius to know he was getting to Marcus was worse. “You’ve a flair for the dramatic. And it seems you’ve spent far more time thinking about my past than I have.”

  “Perhaps. Though there was always one aspect of the story that troubled me.”

  “And what was that?”

  “Why you went along with it.” Cassius leaned forward. “It’s easy to understand why your brother did. In one fell swoop, he was spared the grueling life of a legionnaire and became heir to the Domitius fortune. But why did you? What possible reason could a young boy have to protect the family who abandoned him?”

  “None.”

  Cassius smiled. “One. And I think you’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Including murdering my future wife.”

  9

  TERIANA

  “Everyone out of the water,” Tesya ordered.

  By the time Teriana and Bait climbed up ropes and onto the ship, the white sails were visible to the naked eye.

  “She flies the golden dragon, Captain,” the lookout shouted from above, lowering her spyglass. “Doesn’t look to be a merchantman.”

  A Celendorian naval vessel, Teriana thought. She’d be easy enough for them to outrun, but to do so would arouse suspicions. They’d no reason to cause the Quincense trouble, but that didn’t mean her mum was of a mind for them to know they’d been salvaging a wreck. Maarin seas, Maarin secrets. “What do you want to do?”

  “We’ll see what they want.” Tesya took her pipe out of the pocket of her trousers and filled it with some fine Gamdeshian leaf, lighting it with a flame one of the sailors passed her. The smoke trailed behind them as the ship drifted and they waited for the top-heavy frigate to pull alongside. The Celendorian sailors tossed up hooks and pulled the ships together, leaving deep gouges in the wooden rails.

  Teriana’s mum leaned over the side. “Admiral.”

  The short, bald man looked up at her. “Captain…?”

  “Tesya,” she replied, taking a long pull on her pipe and then blowing smoke rings.

  “And your ship?”

  “Has that blasted paint worn off already?” She bent farther to look at the prow. “No, it appears to still be there.” She pointed at the flowing golden script and blew another smoke ring. “The Quincense.”

  “Hmm.” The admiral poked his scribe, who made a note in a book. “And your business in Atlian waters?”

  “None. We are merely passing through.”

  “To where? And what is the nature of your cargo?”

  “Silk cargo destined for Celendrial.”

  Tesya pulled Teriana to her side and muttered, “Make certain anything we shouldn’t have is well hidden and bring some wine back with you.”

  Teriana gave the admiral a wide smile and trotted toward her mother’s cabin. Bait was already inside, stowing the maps into their secret compartments. “What do they want?” he asked, not looking up from his task.

  “Don’t know.” Teriana extracted a bottle of wine from a crate, along with two pewter glasses. The Maarin had a treaty with the Senate ensuring their ships would never be boarded or searched without just cause; just cause being the violation of one of the Empire’s innumerable laws. But the Quincense hadn’t been caught doing anything it shouldn’t, so this was uncalled for. Her mum’s words resounded in her ears: He might use her to get to us as well.

  Please don’t have said anything, Lydia, Teriana thought. To Bait, she said, “Make sure everything is stowed away.”

  Teriana came back on deck in time to hear the admiral say, “Something to hide, Captain?”

  Tesya took a long pull on her pipe and shook her head. “Just thought you might enjoy a glass of wine. We’ve Atlian vintage aboard.”

  “Perhaps we’ll share a glass or two after we inspect your cargo.”

  From the rigging, one of the lookouts whistled a short tune. The title of the song was “Mutiny and Murder,” a black song of betrayal, but more importantly, it signaled another ship was approaching from the windward side. The sailor continued with the second verse and then the third: three ships approaching. Something was happening.

  “Pour the wine, girl,” her mum said. It was an effort to keep her hands steady as she uncorked the bottle and poured a glass, handing it to the man. The other ships were in sight now, and they were coming in fast.

  “What are your intentions, Admiral?”

  “The Senate is of the belief that the Maarin are in possession of certain pieces of information that are of value to the Empire. We are here to escort you to Celendrial so that you might share what you know.”

  Teriana’s stomach hollowed, all the blood draining from her face. No, please no, she silently prayed.

  Her mother said, “The Maarin have a long-standing treaty with Celendor. I hope the Senate isn’t of a mind to violate it.”

  The admiral smiled, but his shaved head was slick with sweat. “They wouldn’t dream of it.”

  He was lying, Teriana was sure of it. But why? The Senate wouldn’t jeopardize trade with the Maarin on a whim … unless they believed the cost worth the information they’d gain.

  Something is amiss. Magnius’s voice echoed through her thoughts. Her vision dimmed, the admiral’s face disappearing only to be replaced by the faintly illuminated depths of the ocean. Through the guardian’s eyes, she saw the wreck of Castrick’s ship on the seafloor, tattered sails drifting in the current. Magnius circled the wreck, his distorted vision making her dizzy. He swam closer, and through the damage enacted by the sea she saw something that made her blood run cold: an iron ball stamped with the Celendorian dragon.

  Her vision cleared, and she blinked back tears at the sudden brightness of the sun. Her mother was blinking, too. She’d seen as well.

  “Captain?” The admiral’s voice was tinged with impatience. “Do we have your cooperation?”

  Tesya took a final pull on her pipe and then tapped it out, the smoldering tobacco floating down to land on the deck of the other ship. “Tell me, Admiral, did you sink Castrick’s ship before or after he cooperated with you?”

  The man’s face paled and he took a step backward.

  “You’re floating over the bones of your victims, you Celendorian liar,” Tesya hissed. “Angry spirits, who’d be more than happy to have you join them in Madoria’s depths!” The words had scarce left her lips when the Cel ship jerked and shuddered, wood cracking as Magnius slammed his bulk into the hull. Pulling a coin from her pocket, Tesya tossed it through the air, the gold glittering in the sunlight. “To pay your passage to the underworld, you godless dog!”

  The admiral reached for his blade, but Tesya punched him in the face, sending him staggering.

  “Full sail!” Teriana screamed. Drawing her cutlass, she ran to the railing and brought the blade down hard, cutting the rope binding the two vessels as her crew did the same to the other lines. The admiral had extracted his sword, but the dozen armed Maarin had him climbing onto the rail.

  The ships slammed together, then broke apart as Magnius rose out of the water. Teeth flashed and the admiral screamed once before he was dragged beneath the waves.

  The sails billowed, catching the wind and snapping taut. The Quincense rotated, the stern slamming into the smaller ship and sending the terrified Cel sailors sprawling. Teriana clung to the rail as the ship leapt forward, smashing through the waves as she gathered speed.

  Faster, Teriana thought, watching the encroaching ships. One dropped sail to pick up the survivors from the sinking ship, but the others didn’t hesitate. She watched in grim silence as they armed their catapults. A thousand curses on Celendorian planning and ingenuity.

  “We’re still in range!” Tesya snarled.

  The beams of the catapults crashed against their stops with each launch, the iron balls splashing into the sea to either side of her ship.
Then the crunch of wood and screams from those below.

  Her mum’s hands remained fixed on the helm, lips moving in silent prayer to Madoria.

  Another twang and the shattering of glass as the ball flew through the captain’s cabins below them, bursting through the door and across the deck, sending sailors diving out of the way.

  Only a few moments more and the Quincense would be out of reach.

  Leaning over the side, Teriana watched as the Cel ships fell farther behind. Then a catapult on the front runner snapped forward, a black speck flying toward them. “Incoming!”

  It was too late. Wood splintered and sails ripped as the ball tore through the rigging, smashing into a mast. The ship lost momentum, listing to the leeward side as mast and rigging splashed into the water. Teriana watched helplessly as her mother was thrown off her feet, head smacking the deck. “Mum!”

  Crawling toward her, Teriana felt for a pulse. It was strong, but she barely had a chance for relief. With her mum unconscious, she was in command.

  “Cut it loose.” The words came out as barely a croak, forcing Teriana to repeat herself. The crew hopped to, cutting away the fallen rigging and seeing to the injured, but their faces were grim.

  Bait hobbled up the steps, eyes widening at the sight of Teriana’s mother cradled in her arms. “How bad is she hurt?”

  “Don’t know.” Tears were streaming down Teriana’s face. “If I don’t surrender they’ll see us at the bottom of the ocean. You must bring word to our brethren that no port in the Empire is safe.”