Tris's Book

"She's right." He lowered the tube. "That's no real storm. You..."

"Tris," she supplied, when she realized what he waited for.

"Tris. Good work. Now, take your dog and go back to bed. We'll have the warrior mages out here in no time."

Breathing easier now that someone believed her. Tris took Little Bear's leash and went home.

"Daja," a male voice said in her ear. "Daja, wake up."

"Go 'way, Uneny." Asleep, she thought it was her older brother. She thought that she was still in her hammock on Third Ship Kisubo. "I'm not takin' your watch for you."

"Daja, it's Frostpine. I need you."

She sat up, planning to box Uneny's ears.

Her bedside candle was lit. She was in a landsman's house, on a standing bed. From the corner, the god-statues of Trader Koma and Bookkeeper Oti shimmered in the flickering light of her candle. She blinked at her teacher. "Frostpine?"

"We have work to do. Get dressed." He put a steaming bowl into her hands, and left.

The bowl was filled with hot chocolate, a rare and expensive drink served only on important occasions. Impressed, she put on her clothes, sipping the sweetened liquid. By the time she padded downstairs, she was wide awake. Glancing out an attic window, she saw by the Hub clock that it was just after five in the morning.

Lark and Rosethorn were seated at the kitchen table, looking bleary-eyed. Even Little Bear, who liked to bark as everyone got up in the morning, was sprawled before the cottage altar, fast asleep. Frostpine, pacing the floor, smiled as Daja reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Sit." He gently pushed her on to a stool by the table. "Are you awake?"

Daja nodded as she finished buttoning a red gauze shirt.

"Good. Listen to me: I've been asked to do something dangerous." Crouching before her, he gathered her hands in his. "There's a masking spell stretched from the Emelan Peninsula east, past Astrel Island and the Duke's Citadel. We're nearly certain it's covering a large pirate fleet. His Grace wants me to renew and strengthen the spells on the chain that blocks the harbour mouth now, which means working right under the pirates' noses. I could use your help, but only if you understand the risks. We'll be covered by powerful magical shields, but it's one thing to know you're safe in your mind, and another to know it in your belly."

"Think about this, Daja," Lark said, her usually cheerful voice husky with sleep and worry. "You'll be in a boat - you won't be able to run away if the fleet attacks. You won't be able to change your mind once you're out there."

Daja looked into Frostpine's bright, dark eyes. "What kind of shields do we have?"

"A chunk of the spell-net we dug up yesterday. Think about this a minute, girl. I'll die before I'll let anything happen to you, but if you're afraid, I want to know it now."

She stared through the open door to Lark's workroom. A year ago, Third Ship Kisubo was about to put to sea out of Hajur when Fifth Ship Kisubo limped into the harbour. She had just survived a pirate attack with tattered sails and a charred aftercastle. One mast had been sheared off in the middle. When they lowered the gangplank - when the crew of Third Ship Kisubo had gathered on the dock to help - the first one to disembark from Fifth Ship was Uncle Tiwolu. His sweat-streaked ebony face was sorrow-twisted. In his arms he carried the bloody corpse of Aunt Zayda, the ship's captain, riddled with jishen arrows.

Taking a deep breath, Daja nodded. "I'll do it."

Rising, Frostpine tugged her to her feet. "Let's go." He took a haversack from the table, and slung it on to his back. "Our escort's waiting outside."

Daja kissed Lark on the cheek, then looked at Rosethorn. The auburn-haired dedicate glared at her. "There's no need to get emotional," she informed Daja tartly. "I'll see you in a few hours."

Daja grinned. She had expected no other response from Rosethorn. "In a few hours," she promised, and followed Frostpine out of the cottage. A ten-squad of the Duke's Guard, armoured in black leather jerkins and helms stitched with black-enamelled metal rings, waited for them. One of them held the reins of a riderless horse; the rest were already mounted.

"She's with you?" The speaker was a short, stocky woman with the twin yellow arrowheads that marked her as a sergeant on her helm.

Frostpine nodded, and swung himself into the saddle, distributing his habit so it didn't get twisted under him. He then reached an arm down to Daja. When she grabbed it, he lifted her up behind him, ignoring her squeak of dismay. She found her bottom was resting on a hard roll of cloth. "You've got my pack?" Frostpine asked the man next to them. The soldier nodded, and patted one of his saddle-bags.

"North Gate," the sergeant ordered, and nudged her steed into motion. As Frostpine's horse lurched under them, Daja cringed, and wrapped both arms around her teacher's waist.

When they switched to a trot, Daja buried her face in Frostpine's habit and prayed to Koma for protection from pirates, and to her ancestors for protection from land-perils like horseback riding. She only knew they had passed through the North Gate by the changing echo of hooves in the tunnel through the wall.

"Listen to me," Frostpine said quietly. "Are you listening?"

"Yes," Daja replied. "I'm just not looking."

"You don't need to look. Here's our plan. You'll be sensing for weakness in the metal - do you remember how?"