Chapter 10

TEN

Tempest

Tempest shouldered her pack and skirted the edge of the forest which tapered off onto a white, sandy beach. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of the salty sea and the crashing of waves against the shore. The icy wind whipped her cloak around her boots as she picked her way along the shoreline. It would have been easier to cut through the trees, but she needed a moment to collect her thoughts, and she wanted to avoid any of the little villages that ran along the outskirts of the woods. Who knew what was lurking nearby. And Tempest, herself, was hardly inconspicuous.

Black clouds loomed in the distance, hovering above the sea like buzzards over a carcass. A burst of wind slammed into her, yanking her hood from her head. That was her cue to leave. She didn't want to be anywhere near the coastline when the storm hit. Winter storms were the worst. Every year, the storms sank ships, ripped trees from the earth, and destroyed parts of the port.

Tempest turned east and moved through the trees, their boughs waving high above her in a pagan dance. Her tread was soft on the bed of pine needles beneath her boots. The woods thickened, and she pulled her hood over her hair, eyes continuously scanning the forest. All seemed calm, but that was the trick. The deeper one wandered into the woods, the more danger one encountered. She shivered as she remembered previously fleeing in the darkness and plunging into the pit. This time, she had to be more careful.

Time passed, and Tempest moved on, ghosting through the forest. Hours passed, and sweat dampened her temples, despite the frigid temperature. Tempest huffed out, irritated. The blighted kitsune had told her to meet him in the woods, but he hadn't said where. Her belly growled when early afternoon hit, and Pyre was still nowhere to be seen. She pulled some dried meat from her sack and gnawed on it. Where was he? Why would he insist she meet him if he didn't intend on showing up?

Tempest sat down on a moss-covered rock with a disgruntled sigh.

More games.

She tossed a handful of dried nuts into her mouth and chewed. She could simply turn back, but that wouldn't really do any good. Destin wanted her to infiltrate the rebels. He expected her to disappear for some time. She smiled wryly and took a swig from her waterskin. She was in the Jester's domain now. No doubt, he'd find her eventually. She tipped her head back and eyed the faint light shining through the tops of the trees. If she could get high enough, then she could spot the river and follow that. Perhaps, she could discover the village where Aspen and Rina lived until Pyre decided to show his rotten mug.

The hairs along her arms rose, and Tempest stopped chewing. The woods were now silent. She released the daggers from her wrist sheaths and slowly pushed to her feet, her eyes and ears straining to discover a hint of what had spooked the birds and woodland creatures into silence. Was it a friend, foe, or the Jester?

She heard a subtle but distinct shift in the trees behind her. Tempest spun around, cocked her head to one side, and listened intently. Nothing. Her lips twitched. Whoever was watching her was not very good at remaining undetected.

"Show yourself," she demanded.

"You do not get to command me, dog," an annoyingly familiar voice growled, dripping with displeasure.

Lovely. Tempest's mood fell, and she straightened somewhat, daggers loosely in hand. "Brine." The wolf shifter stalked from the trees, finally making himself known. "Where is—"

"Too busy to deal with the likes of you," he interrupted, thrusting a small note toward her.

"What is this?" Tempest asked, frowning. She sheathed her daggers and eyed the prickly shifter.

"Read it. Or do they not teach your mongrel group how to?"

Tempest rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to punch Brine in the face. That wouldn't help. Brawling with the wolf wouldn't solve anything… Although, the satisfaction of hitting him would give her immense joy, she was sure.

He huffed and waved the note impatiently at her. Tempest snatched the note from him and opened it. She eyed elegant, slanted handwriting scrawled across the paper.

Temp,

Brine needs your assistance in retrieving my stolen property. His bark is worse than his bite.

Fox

P.S. I lied. His bite hurts.

She snorted and arched a brow. How typical of the Jester.

Tempest lifted her gaze and stared pointedly at Brine. "Apparently, I am supposed to help you receive his property from a thief," she said.

The wolf's lips thinned, but he said nothing, merely nodding before turning tail and walking through the trees, in the direction of the coast. She sighed. Why in the blazes would Pyre team her up with Brine? The shifter had no love for her. Chances were Brine would be happy to take her out and leave her corpse behind for scavengers. She'd have to keep an eye on him. The idea of finding Rina's village still held appeal, but ultimately, the venture was pointless. While she did not want to dance on the Jester's puppet strings, there wasn't much of a choice. Perhaps, she'd gain more info tailing Brine anyhow.

She adjusted the sack on her shoulder and jogged to catch up with the moody shifter. "So, where are we going?"

He said nothing. For three bloody hours.

They broke through the forest edge and began winding their way north, up the coast, following the path that Tempest had originally taken. Annoyance pricked her. She'd wasted hours walking. Hours . She winced when her left foot slipped and a sharp piece of granite poked her ankle through the worn leather. "Is there an easier way of getting to wherever we're going? "

"Giving up already?"

For Dotae's sake. "No," she gritted out. "But I'm not a blasted mountain goat. This side hill and shale is killing my ankles." Her gaze moved to the steep drop-off. "One slip, and I'd be dead." She paused. "Unless that's what your goal is?"

Brine snorted. He glanced over his shoulder, amusement in his dark gaze, all the while still managing to avoid every divot and pointed rock. "That would be too easy." The shifter faced forward. "To answer your first question, we're heading to a northern port city." He paused. "Can't remember the name of it to save my life. I hate the sea."

"So, can't we cut across easier ground to—"

"Are you telling me, a wolf, how to best navigate the environment around me to reach a destination?" he growled.

Tempest bristled. "No, but if we keep heading this way, we'll hit the docks outside of Demrias. Don't you want to avoid the trading city?"

Brine barked out a laugh. "We can pass through the docks no problem. Just cover your hair. If we navigate around the city, our journey will take hours longer than it should, and we'll risk getting spotted by the perimeter guards. Now, shut up and walk, dog."

Insufferable bastard.

Well, he wasn't wrong about the shortcut, but she had enough bossy males in her life. It would be so easy to dig her heels in and fight him. But… it was clear that Brine was the Jester's right-hand man, which meant it was important for her to try to make nice with the grumpy shifter, even if he had no qualms about killing her. She watched the tall, lithe man lope gracefully ahead of her, moving so quickly she had to jog to keep up with him .

And the good times just kept rolling. Brine never slowed other than when they passed through the docks outside of Demrias—Tempest's nerves twisted her stomach this way and that the entire time they were there. The journey was relentlessly fast and uneventful, but eventually they passed by a village a few hours north of Demrias, sitting right on the edge of the coast.

Her stomach grumbled loudly. Winter's bite, she was hungry, and her legs ached. She needed to up her strength training. "Can we stop at the inn here?" she asked, noticing the tell-tale signs of cat ears and large, owlish eyes on a few of the villagers standing outside of said establishment. "It's a shifter village, so won't they—"

"Absolutely not," Brine cut in, fervently shaking his head.

"But—"

"Not all shifters are on our side. I thought even you were smart enough to know that. And keep your hair tucked away or you'll get us both killed."

Tempest ignored the jibe, though it took a lot of effort to do so, and double-checked her hood. Her hair was tucked away.

"Perhaps they simply want to go about their lives," she reasoned, giving the inn a final, wishful glance as they moved around the bitty village and even farther north. "Not everyone is a fighter, Brine."

"They are cowards," he said, spitting out the last word. "They are complacent. They think if they don't get involved then they won't get hurt? It's madness."

"Maybe protecting their own families is all they can do right now."

"The only way to protect their families is to fight with an organized, collective front. "

Tempest considered his words. Brine wasn't wrong, though he wasn't completely right, either. "They're farmers. How do you expect them to fight? They've had no training."

Brine said nothing to continue the debate, so they soldiered onward in now-familiar silence as the sun's rays bled out of the sky and the dark clouds crept even closer.

Full darkness had descended by the time the two of them arrived at their destination. Tempest vaguely recognized the city, though. How did she know this place? She'd never been this far northwest before, other than when she'd been found as a child. Before her trial, Tempest had been too young to travel from city to city with her Hound brethren.

"Anything I should know?" she murmured.

"It's a place of corruption. Full of pirates." He slid a look her way. "Too violent for a pup."

She'd show him how much of a pup she was.

Tempest pulled her hood back and tucked her braid into the back of her shirt. She reached for her hood, but a huge hand wrapped around her wrist, nails digging into her skin. Hissing, she glared at Brine.

"What are—"

"Keep your hair hidden, fool!" he chastised, speaking in an undertone. "Don't be so stupid."

"I am ," she growled, yanking her arm out of his grasp. She tugged her hood low over her eyes.

He grunted. "Keep your mouth shut and follow me."

Tempest bit back a retort. Brine clearly had more expertise in the area; if he was telling her to hide her hair, keeping quiet was likely wise. They descended into the small port city, winding through dark streets and empty marketplaces full of flickering lanterns. Metal bars covered the small windows of every home. Given the city's reputation for crime, Tempest was not surprised.

Her nose wrinkled as a mixture of the smell of sewage and mold assaulted her nostrils . The place stunk. It was even worse than the slums in Dotae. Her boots slurped as they slogged through the muddy streets, surrounded by dilapidated buildings. Green scum clung to every bit of stone and wood. She slipped and gagged when she caught herself against the side of a rundown apothecary, the green gunk squishing between her fingers.

Nasty.

She wiped her hands on her trousers and followed Brine. The quiet houses faded as taverns began to appear on almost every corner, spilling light, loud music, and raucous laughter into the streets. She tried not to stare when she spotted scantily clad women poised in front of a brothel. A nightwalker caught her eye and smiled.

"See something you like?" the woman called.

Tempest ducked her head and hurried after the wolf.

"I thought I told you to keep your head down?" Brine growled softly.

"I did," she muttered. "There are more brothels here than Dotae." She'd never seen so many half-naked women. Was this how all cities were? Her knowledge of Heimserya abruptly seemed small and insignificant. Why did women subject themselves to such things? Could they not find a proper occupation?

"I can hear you thinking and judging. Stop."

Tempest glared at the shifter's back. "I thought we were supposed to be quiet. "

A grunt was all the answer she received.

Tempest shook herself from her thoughts and scanned the area around them. They settled into silence as they moved deeper into the city. The stench of rotten fish grew stronger, and Tempest shallowly breathed through only her mouth. Winter's bite, that was rank. She could taste it.

Brine let out a short laugh. "Stinks, doesn't it? Imagine what it smells like for me ."

"I'd rather not, thanks," she wheezed, allowing the smallest of smiles to curl her lips—though it was hidden by her cowl. It was the closest the two of them had ever gotten to civil conversation.

They ghosted along the docks, ships bobbing restlessly in the harbor. Tempest eyed the black water. She didn't want to know what lurked beneath the surface. Brine paused next to one of the larger, more expensive-looking ships along the docks. She frowned. The ship looked out of place.

Brine spun and snatched a handful of her cloak, pulling her closer. She blinked up at him in surprise as he pressed even closer, his chest touching her own. What in the hell?

The wolf leaned closer and murmured, "Act as my bodyguard. Don't say one word unless I instruct you to. Can you do that?"

Tempest nodded, because it was the kind of plan she would have suggested. She had no idea who or what exactly they were dealing with. She eyed the ship. Whoever had stolen from the Jester was stupid, though. She knew that much.

Brine stalked up the gangway, and she followed suit, careful not to trip. She'd never been one for developing "sea legs," and when the water beneath her rolled and the gangway lurched, she cursed underneath her breath as she stumbled. Now was not the time for a swim. Straightening, she schooled her expression and stepped onto the ship, shadowing Brine as her stomach rolled.

Don't throw up. Don't throw up.

The shifter headed straight over to whom she assumed was the captain. His clothing was absolutely gaudy. Embroidered boots gave way to red velvet trousers. He'd foregone a shirt, only wearing a black leather vest and emerald green scarf. His tattooed arms were bare to the world, despite the freezing temperatures. Few men could do that. A shifter, then.

The wind blew the huge purple feather tucked into his hat right into his face, and Tempest's lips twitched.

"Blasted hat." He yanked the garish hat from his head, revealing cat ears hiding among his artfully tousled brown hair.

She blinked. That's how she knew him—he was one of Pyre's shifters. Her lips curled. One who had chased after her alongside Brine and the rest of their friends, right into a speared pit.

Chesh. The name came unbiddenly to her.

The cat shifter did not send a single glance her way as he and Brine sat at a long table with a portly man and began playing cards, swigging from a bottle of rum and mindlessly gossiping. Tempest took her place a few paces behind the wolf, keeping her eyes open for trouble.

"How has trade been?" Brine asked, handing the bottle of rum over to the portly man. "I heard you've been dabbling in the sale of women these days?"

It was difficult, but she kept her expression blank.

"That's where all the money is, especially trading overseas." The man laughed, his jowls jiggling. "Well, that and drugs, of course."

Tempest bristled. This was the kind of conversation she didn't want to be privy to. Her skin crawled. Human and drug trafficking. She stared hard at the back of Brine's head. With how straight-laced the wolf seemed, it surprised her that he was so calm about selling human beings.

"But I've been looking for something different these days," the merchant continued, a lavish smile on his lips. "Something… exotic." His eyes flashed to Tempest like he could see through her cloak and clothing. "I've heard word that the fabled little female Hound has been seen out of her cage. A real beauty, apparently."

"She's definitely a fiery one," Chesh said, sliding his own gaze over to Tempest in a way that made her spine tingle. What the hell? Her hand twitched toward her sword. "A real prize. But she's expensive."

The man raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I can do expensive. How much to hand her over?"

Tempest couldn't believe what she was hearing. She carefully pulled the daggers from her hips and glared at the back of Brine's head, willing him to turn and face her. Were they brokering a deal for her? Or was this part of the ruse? Had she been double-crossed?

Chesh lazily stretched and unwound the scarf he was wearing. Her breath froze as more markings were revealed. Tattoos ran across his chest, up his neck, and stopped beneath his chin. She spotted a crown with three stars across it just below his right ear. Tempest's blood ran cold.

The only time she'd ever seen such markings was when she studied the Hinterlands .

The bloody Hinterlands. And royalty, no less.

That wasn't good.

The Hinterlands and Heimserya had been enemies for generations. What was he doing here? Mimkia was killing their people, the Jester was organizing a rebellion, and now a Hinterland prince was in one of their ports? It was all wrong. Were Brine and Chesh working against the Jester? How did the creepy merchant fit into it all?

Whatever it was, she wasn't sticking around. No matter the outcome, it wasn't good for her. Tempest took two slow steps away from the table just as the portly man grinned outright.

"And where do you think you're going, Lady Hound?!" the merchant bellowed after her, moving with surprising speed for someone of his size around the table. "Stay a little while."

Time to go. She darted for the gangplank when guards materialized around her, blocking the path off the ship. Wicked hell.

"Get out of my way before I cut you down!" she snarled.

The sounds of swords sliding from scabbards echoed around her. The wind tugged at her cloak. She shook her head so the hood fell away, exposing her hair. She smiled nastily. Their stances told her everything she needed to know. They weren't well trained, and they looked human. She had years of experience fighting soldiers and city guards. They didn't stand a chance. And it did not take long for Tempest to disarm both men and leap across the gangway.

Her boots pounded along the dock as she sprinted back into the city, slipping and sliding in the mud. She veered toward the smellier part of town, gagging at the scent. It couldn't be helped. With shifters involved, they'd probably picked up her scent. Hopefully, the odor would mask her smell .

She darted into a dark alley and paused to catch her breath; her gaze locked on the entrance. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Had she escaped? She didn't think it was that simple.

"Why so quick to leave, Temp?" Chesh crooned into her ear, snaking a hand around Tempest's waist as if they were lovers.

Her instincts and training kicked in. She slammed an elbow into his gut before stomping on his instep. He hissed and released her. Tempest swung her leg out to knock him off his feet. He'd already stepped out of the way and hovered just out of reach. Chesh gave her a crooked smile that said come and get me. She'd do no such thing. Only a fool would go on the offense with someone so much bigger than themselves. Tempest wasn't a fool.

"I will not be sold to some sleazy smuggler. I'm not sure who you work for—"

"Hush, pet," Chesh replied, closing the distance between them. She slashed at him, and he paused, arching a brow at her. "No need to be so feisty."

Her top lip curled back, and she lifted her daggers higher. "I'm going to walk away, and you're going to let me. I don't know what you have going on right now, but I do know what those markings are for. Do your partners know who you are?"

He gave her a mischievous smile. "Fox was right. You are just delightful."

Tempest took a step toward the mouth of the alley at the same time Chesh moved . One moment, several paces separated them, and the next, he was only inches from her daggers. He calmly wrapped his hands around her wrists and gazed evenly down at her.

"Let's put the daggers down and speak like reasonable people, shall we? "

She lashed out, aiming to kick him in the shin, but he sidestepped. He squeezed her right wrist, slowly prying the dagger from her fingers.

Not happening.

Instead of pulling away, she jerked forward and viciously bit his forearm. Chesh grunted and put more pressure on her wrist. She cried out and released his arm as he forced her to drop the dagger. Tempest prepared for his counterattack and grunted as he yanked her close. She gasped when he did the exact opposite. A purr vibrated his chest, and he rubbed his face affectionately against her temple and cheek. She leaned back as far as she could and gaped at the shifter.

"What was that?" she barked, losing some of her fear and anger. What the devil was going on?

Chesh laughed and leaned closer, brushing his nose against hers. "Just a friendly hello."

"Knock it off," she demanded as he rubbed his face against the top of her head.

"Just returning the favor, pet. You're the one who initiated it."

"Me?" she gasped.

"You bit me." His smile was slow. "This kitty likes to scratch."

Tempest's brow furrowed. "You attacked me. I was protecting myself."

"In my world, you just declared that you want me."

She gaped. "I don't think so! I thought you wanted to kill me or sell me off."

"Trust me, Temp," he said, once more using her nickname uninvited, "if I wanted you dead—if I ever meant you harm—then I would have killed you the first time I laid eyes on you. "

Nothing made any sense. "Then what in the name of Dotae is going on? Why were you bartering my life with that man if—"

"You served as a distraction," Brine growled, appearing from the entrance to the alleyway with a box in his hands. "Something that you're actually very good at, it seems."

"A distraction?" she repeated. They'd scared years off her life. Her gaze moved back to the cat shifter holding her hostage. "I hope you have nine lives," she muttered. "Because I am going to kill you."

He winked at her. "It was all in good fun."

"That was not my idea of fun." She glanced pointedly at his hands. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to set me free?"

Chesh released a rumbling purr. "I could show you how I have fun…"

Tempest growled as her cheeks heated at his insinuation. "No, thank you."

Chesh sighed. "Your loss, pet." He let her go, and Tempest slashed at him half-heartedly with her left hand. "What fun you are," he said.

"I'll show you fun," she muttered, stooping to retrieve her discarded dagger from the mud. Her nose wrinkled as she cleaned the hilt with her cloak and slipped the weapon into the leather sheath at her right hip. She stood and pinned Brine with her gaze. "And what did you need a distraction for?"

He held up the plain box in his hands. "This." He glanced at Chesh and rolled his eyes. "Will you stop your antics? You're worse than Fox."

The shifter in question had crept closer to her, still purring. He gave her a mad grin and then moved a respectful distance away. He inclined his head politely, which only served to confuse Tempest beyond all reason. What was his deal? What sort of game was he playing? And why was a prince of the Hinterlands consorting with the Talagan rebels? Questions for another time.

She forced herself to concentrate on the matter at hand. "What's in the box?"

"None of your business," Brine replied, so quickly Tempest felt like swearing at him. What she didn't expect was for Chesh to take the box from Brine and pass it over to her.

"Thank you…" she murmured, running her fingers over the intricate wooden surface. It almost looked like a puzzle. She rotated the box, looking for a latch.

Chesh tsked and laid a hand over her own, halting her exploration. "You may carry it, but no opening it," he said. "You have to take this to our lovely Jester as is."

"Seriously?" she huffed.

"Yes, be a good girl and listen to your elders."

Tempest felt like screaming, but she tamped down her irritation. "You can't be much older than I."

"I'm an old soul."

"Positively decrepit," she said dryly. Tempest ignored his narrowed eyes and focused back on the glowering wolf. If they wouldn't let her open it, then she needed to gain as much information as possible. "Was this box in the smuggler's possession?"

"Indeed," Chesh answered. "He's been touting a deadly drug to Heimserya's neighboring countries claiming that it's protection against the disease that's affecting the country. Everyone is terrified by the news coming out of Heimserya, so people are buying this drug in droves. "

Her stomach twisted at the notion. Now there was not just one killer drug on the market, but two.

"He was also stealing from the Jester," Brine added. He waved a hand toward the box. "We were collecting evidence to prove it. Now the Dark Court can rightfully eliminate him."

Eliminate. Lovely.

She ran the back of her arm over her face, then indicated behind her with her dagger. "So, where is blasted Fox, then?" she asked. "Where do I have to go to—"

"I'm taking you there, of course," Brine cut in, looking thoroughly unhappy. "Why would we tell you where he is, you stupid dog?"

And they were back to square one. "I'm too tired to deal with your insults, Brine." She'd walked for hours today, been falsely sold, and chased through a pirate city. Her body was done with the abuse.

"Good," he said, smiling viciously. "Then you won't put up a fight for the next few hours."

She baulked at the idea. "The next few hours? Can't we find somewhere to rest first?" She was hungry and needed a proper bath. She stank.

Brine merely laughed. "A wolf travels best at night, girlie. So, if you want to prove your worth, then you'll keep up with me without complaint."

Tempest didn't know if she wanted Brine's respect or not, but it became clear she was going to have to continue traveling with him on his terms, regardless.

Chesh sashayed up to her, and, quicker than lightning, licked the side of her face.

Tempest skittered backward and wiped at her cheek with her sleeve. "Disgusting! "

"It was nice seeing you again, pet. Stay safe."

She glared at the cat shifter as he disappeared into the darkness.

"Let's move. I'm tired of waiting on you already," Brine grumped.

The night was going to be long.