Sadie

Halfway to Rikesh, the rope bridge forked into two. Nestled between the V of the two paths upon a webbing of rope was a building. A creaking sign swung in the breeze about the splintering door: Avan Vi Rikenna—Don’t Look Down.

I immediately looked down.

Wind blustered up from between the rickety slats of wood that led to the tavern door. The ground so far below my feet was just a blur of beige. In the distance, I could see the thin line of the Stoneater River that carved the border between Valta and Damrienn. Ostekke gut me, we were so high that clouds rushed by below us.

Merry music played and warm firelight flickered from the fogged windows, but my stomach was all the way in my feet as I walked down the last steps of Galen den’ Mora.

“You know, when I said I could use a drink . . .”

I hedged, wobbling on the last step that bounced with my weight.

“We need to pick up some supplies,”

Navin assured. He placed a hand on the small of my back and I leaned against it like a dog tugging on a tight leash, practically falling backward on my ass. “Trust me, you’ll forget all about it once we’re inside and have a couple pints.”

“I very much doubt that, Nav,”

Maez said from behind us.

The wind whipped back the hood of my cloak—a terrible disguise if ever there was one. At least I wouldn’t have to have my hands bound if I was hidden in the shadows of my garment. Maez in an act of solidarity donned a matching cloak, making us look more like temple acolytes than travel-weary passersby.

Navin stepped confidently onto the narrow boardwalk path that led to the tavern. I noted the way the slats bent and tilted under each of his footsteps. Acid rose up my throat. My limbs felt shaky and light, my appendages watery and out of control. It felt as if my body might fling me over the coarse rope barriers against my own will.

“Come on,”

Maez said, tugging me by the elbow. I clung to her arm like a hawk snatching a fish with its talons. “Seriously? Ouch,” she grumbled, but I just dug my nails into her tighter.

There were times to be petulant and there were times to feign bravery and right now I gave absolutely zero fucks about how frightened I seemed, I was not letting go of her arm.

“I’m not falling from the fucking sky again, Maez,”

I muttered. My legs started trembling as we stepped onto the first board. My whole body braced as if the board would crack below my feet, my muscles tense and preparing for the plummet.

“Four more steps and we’re in the doorway,”

Maez said, and I didn’t know if she was trying to reassure herself or me. “Stop acting like a bunny and start acting like a soldier.”

At that pointed comment, I moved. Better to just get it over with and stop drawing out my torment. I crossed the last four slats in a frantic scramble, dragging Maez along with me as we simultaneously yanked up our hoods. When we shut the tavern door behind us, my mind was left reeling at the disparity between one side of the threshold and the other. Inside, the tavern was warm and inviting, dimly lit by flickering candles atop each table and a roaring fire in the hearth along the far wall. Despite the sweltering climate of the floating mountains, the air around the tavern was rather cool with a draft of wind that made the fire pleasant rather than stifling.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tried to not think too much about the miles of air between me and the sand dunes far below.

Navin waved to the barmaid, miming a drink in his hand and mouthing the word “ale.”

The tavern was nearly full to bursting, only a single barstool left unoccupied. The crowd didn’t bother to look at us despite our dramatically frenetic entrance and shadowed hoods. Judging by the mishmash of patrons, the tavern was used to travelers from everywhere. A trio of musicians played from one corner, a rousing card game drawing a crowd from the other. People milled around the bar wearing everything from furs to lightweight linens, jewels to threadbare jackets, passing every type of coin over the bar top.

By the time I took the place in, Navin was already sitting at a booth beside the fire, having darted to claim the table that still carried the leftover dinner and half-finished drinks of the last patrons. Maez and I tiptoed over to him, cringing at every creak in the boards below our feet.

“You get used to it,”

Navin said as Maez and I shakily sat.

“After ten pints of ale perhaps,”

Maez muttered. “Ah,” she said when the barmaid set three tall glasses of foaming golden liquid on the table. “Bless you, Goddess.”

I couldn’t quite fathom how, without even seeing Maez’s face, the barmaid blushed and gave Maez a wink as she collected the dirty plates and glassware. I rolled my eyes. Like a sorcerer to the darkness, Maez seemed to draw in every living person in Aotreas. I chugged my drink, the liquid burning down my throat, and passed it back to the barmaid before she could even step away from the table.

I stifled a burp and dropped two golden gritas on her tray, saying, “Keep them coming.”

Maez passed her now-empty glass over, too. “Agreed.”

The barmaid’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of scarlet as Maez tossed another coin onto her tray. She gave a half curtsy and hustled back off toward the bar.

“You’re mated,”

I reminded her.

“And Briar is lucky to have someone so desirable, no?”

Maez tugged her hood lower and turned her attention back to Navin. “So why exactly have you brought us to this death-defying interlude?”

“Look at this,”

he said, taking a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket and unfurling it on the table. He placed the candlestick at one end and his glass of ale at the other to keep the paper from curling.

Maez and I leaned in, inspecting the rudimentary drawing. It appeared to be a floor plan.

“This,”

Navin said, circling his finger around the largest rectangular room, “is the grand hall. And here”—he moved his finger through a labyrinth of corridors to an oval room in the south corner—“this is the gallery where the vase is on display. The room is locked, though; we need to get Luo to open it.”

We paused as the barmaid came back with more drinks, two for each of us, and Maez thumbed her an extra crover in appreciation. We waited until she disappeared into the throng again before Navin continued.

“Once and I announce ourselves at the gate, we will most likely be escorted through the grand hall to get an audience with the King,”

he said. “The King will want to make a spectacle of his brother’s new bride.”

My grip on my glass tightened. I knew this was the plan, but I didn’t love hearing it stated out loud. “The only spectacles I like to make are in the sparring rings,”

I groused under my breath.

“Maez, you can go through the servants’ passageway”—Navin pointed to a little doorway at the bottom of the page—“and wait by the door to the gallery. I will present and ask that instead of her hefty bounty I may select three pieces of art from his giant collection.”

Navin’s grin widened. “He’ll think me a foolish artist and agree. It’s a better deal than parting with that much coin.”

“And if he doesn’t agree?” I asked.

“He will,”

Navin said. “I am highly doubtful that a King who loves gold as much as Luo wouldn’t rather part with a few artifacts gifted to his family—by human artists no less. Luo agrees to hand over the vase, and then Maez can help you sneak out the back.”

“Great,”

I muttered. “I’ll just sneak out the back, shall I?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you had to jump out a bathing chamber window,”

Maez said with a laugh. “I doubt Prince Tadei will expect his bride to do that.”

“Especially if we can make it look like your hands are bound when they aren’t,”

Navin said. “They won’t suspect you capable of running.”

“How are we meant to fake shackles?”

I asked, gulping down the rest of my drink. The warm buzz helped alleviate some of the terror swirling in my gut.

“She might have something.”

Navin nodded to an old woman who sat in the center of the room. She was knitting what looked to be a pair of mittens. A giant bag of yarn sat beside her, and the table was strewn with whorls of string.

Maez and I exchanged glances, ones that only our keen sight could see. She clearly was wondering if we were looking at the same woman, too. “How is she going to help us?”

“Let me worry about that,”

Navin hedged. “We should also prepare to create a distraction where can run back to the wagon that way if all else fails.”

“That’s going to have to be one epic distraction,”

I muttered.

“I have a few ideas,”

Maez said, propping her elbows on the table and grinning. “But how am I meant to just waltz into that doorway without a bunch of servants immediately questioning me?”

“As I said.”

Navin tipped the crown of his head toward the card game in the corner. “We came here to get supplies.”

As the crowd parted, we spotted them. Two burly men in dented bronze armor covering tawny fighting leathers. Their chest plates bore the arcing symbols of the moon phases, and the hilts of their weapons were detailed with gold and gems like bursting miniature suns. Over the backs of their chairs, helmets hung by golden chin straps along with thigh-length tan military jackets covered in medals and badges denoting their rank.

Wolves. If the attire wasn’t enough to give them away, the sharpness of their features and keen, wary eyes certainly did.

“What in the . . .”

“What are they doing all the way out here?”

I leaned into the table and kept my voice low, not wanting the Wolves to hear us over the rabble. “Playing cards with humans no less?”

“Some of the Onyx Wolf pack live on the islands surrounding Rikesh,”

Navin said as he took another sip of ale.

Maez and I exchanged confused glances. “They don’t all live in the city with their King?”

“I’m sure they convene frequently, but no,”

he said. “The pack is far more spread out than the Silver Wolves in Highwick.”

I’d never really considered how much Nero wanted to keep us under his thumb. The rest of the Silver Wolf pack had lived in elaborate townhouses surrounding his castle no more than a stone’s throw away. Soldiers were allowed to live slightly farther out for training, but we were all still right there in Highwick, where he could keep a watchful eye on everyone. King Luo seemed to have a far longer leash for his pack.

“I would’ve wagered a thousand crovers that no Wolves frequented this place,”

Maez said as she studied the two men.

“That’s why they’re here,”

Navin said with a shrug, waiting for us to piece the meaning of that statement together. When we only just stared back at him, he added, “Why do you think the Onyx Wolves come all the way out here?” He tipped his head to the table again as a human woman dropped into one of the Wolves’ laps, cackling as she ripped off a bite of bread and fed it to him. The Wolf’s hands were greedy and possessive as they fisted in her skirt and pulled her tighter. Her lust-filled grin matched his own. “They don’t want anyone to see their philandering.”

I dropped my gaze to scrutinize the table, afraid I might lock eyes with Navin. I knew by philandering he meant skin chasing, but he was trying to be diplomatic for my sake. I hated that I was ever made to feel like my attraction to Navin was taboo, that we were meant to be a secret, that people would speak of us in whispers. I hated more that I still felt shame creeping up my cheeks along with a burning blush.

I cleared my throat and steeled myself to look up again. “What supplies specifically are you planning on acquiring from them?”

“His uniform,”

Navin said matter-of-factly as the card game erupted into cheers. One of the Wolves dragged a pile of coins across the table. “None of the humans will bother Maez if she’s dressed like a Wolf, and she will be very helpful in getting you back out of the palace again. No one will double-check Tadei’s princess if she’s moving with an Onyx Wolf guard.”

I snorted into my drink, foam spraying across the table, as the human woman and the Onyx Wolf guard started sloppily kissing. “Looks like we’ve just got to give him a couple more minutes with her and nicking their clothes will be a piece of cake.”

“For some reason he strikes me as the sort to keep his boots on,”

Maez added with a laugh. “Best you can hope for is he unbuckles his belt.”

I chuckled back. “Point well made.”

“I have a better idea anyway,”

Maez said, cheering the air and rising.

I tried to grab her elbow. “Maez, wait—”

But she was already swaggering over to the card table. She dropped a pouch of coins on the table and feigned a drunken stumble into the nearest chair. Her hood tipped back as she smiled with all the charm of a rich lord as she looked from one cardplayer to the next. “Who wants to make this game more interesting?”