Leaves of Flame (60 page)

Hurried boot steps sounded and Tuvaellis shot a glance to one side, saw the captain trotting toward them, his hands held up in a calming gesture, as if she were a spooked horse. Her eyes narrowed.

“Calm down,” he said as he approached. His face was beaded with sweat. “It wasn’t Devid’s fault. I saw you on deck and sent him to get your trunk, figuring you’d want to be off the ship as soon as possible.”

He came to a halt out of the reach of her sword, his eyes imploring.

“Devid’s a good hand,” he added.

Tuvaellis said nothing, but after a long moment withdrew her sword from the terrified man’s throat.

Both Devid and the captain heaved sighs of relief.

She glanced toward the trunk, scowled as she realized one of the corners had splintered, even though it was protected by brass, an edge of burgundy-colored cloth peeking through. A thread of fear swept through her and she nearly jerked the trunk open to check the contents, to make certain nothing had been disturbed, but she caught herself.

Unable to dampen her fear, she spun on the captain. “I need rooms in the city, and two crewmen to carry my trunk to them. Carefully.” She glared at Devid, who flinched.

“Of course,” the captain said. He did not look happy, but his need to see her off of the ship as soon as possible was evident. He motioned to two other crewmen who were watching the altercation to one side. “Take the trunk and the lady to The Painted Vine. Tell Irina I sent you.”

The men grimaced but stepped forward, grabbing the leather handles of the trunk and lifting it. Tuvaellis’ heart stuttered when she heard something shift inside, but she said nothing.They preceded her down the plank to the dock and into the crush of people along the wharf, winding their way up the switchback streets into the city beyond. Tuvaellis kept her attention on the trunk, distracted only once by the passage of a group of armored men in the colors of the Bontari Family. But the soldiers were not interested in her or the trunk. She watched the sun-gleaming figures vanish in the crowd, then motioned the two crewmen on.

It took half an hour to reach The Painted Vine. The wrought iron gate opened onto a small courtyard with a fountain at its heart, the water gurgling as they walked the cobbled path past a few sculpted fruit trees to the shade of a porch. A woman with skin a shade darker than most of those Tuvaellis had seen outside stood by the door, summoned by the chimes that had sounded when they opened the gate. Her mouth was screwed up into a tight frown, her arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze swept over the crewmen, then settled on Tuvaellis.

“Who are you?”she asked bluntly.“I do not service anyone off the street.”

“Captain Escalli of the Bontari Family asked us to escort her here,” one of the crewmen muttered.

She eyed Tuvaellis up and down,then snorted.“I’ll show you to your rooms.”

She led Tuvaellis and the crewmen to two rooms with a veranda overlooking the harbor.The crewmen set the trunk down in the sitting room, while the dark-skinned woman opened the lattice doors to the bedroom beyond. As soon as they were able, the crewmen fled.

“If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”

Tuvaellis ignored the disapproving look laced with curiosity. “Very well.”

The woman hesitated, then departed, closing the front doors behind her.

Tuvaellis moved instantly to the trunk, flinging open the top and pushing the silky folds of cloth aside. Even in her haste, she was careful to keep from touching the object nestled within. She could feel its power, subdued but potent, and she didn’t want to waken it accidentally. It would not have the desired effect if it were released here.

If it hadn’t been damaged already.

She found it shifted to one side, only a few folds of cloth padding it from contact with the wood of the trunk. About the size of her fist, it looked like a smoothed chunk of marble, veined with streaks of green and flecks of gold, but as she sat back, she could see a steady light throbbing deep inside it. Occasionally, a thread of light would trace its way around the stone’s edge.

She searched the stone for any cracks, any signs of dam-age,but saw none.The tension in her shoulders relaxed and with a relieved sigh, she stood.

She would need to find another container.The trunk was too heavy for her to carry alone; it had only been transported in the trunk to protect it from potentially rough seas. Now that she was in Andover, she could find a smaller case, something light and unobtrusive.

And then she would have to find a way to get it to the Rose.