Of Sea and Shadow (The Elder Empire: Sea Book 1) (22 page)

But more than anything else, they plumbed their instructors for information. As subtly as they could.

On the way to work one day, sitting opposite his mother in their carriage, Calder held up his Blackwatch badge to the light. “What sort of authority do we have, as Watchmen?”

Alsa looked up in alarm. “Don’t arrest anyone! You can’t hold anyone under arrest, except during a Guild-sanctioned Blackwatch assignment, or in certain emergencies.”

Calder glanced away from the badge. “Why would you assume that I wanted to arrest someone?”

“It’s really not so uncommon as you’d think,” she said. “Someone always tries it.”

He squinted at her, trying to read her expression. “Did
you
try it?”

Spots of color appeared in her cheeks, but her smile was fond. “On your father.”

Calder promised himself that he would get the full story from her another time. “I don’t want to arrest anyone. Not at the moment. I’m just wondering what we can do.”

She sighed. “A natural question. You must remember that the Blackwatch are never held in the highest public opinion, so the people will resist you, fear you, and even work against you if they get the chance.”

Calder had already begun to notice that. He tried to refrain from wearing his badge and black coat until he actually arrived on
The Testament
’s work site, to avoid the frightened looks and dark comments.

“Technically, you can order any citizen to do anything if it relates to an Elder or Elder magic, or if Elderspawn have been spotted in the area. Anything
legal
,” she amended. “You can even call on Imperial troops or other low-ranking Guild members to assist you in your duties, and they are bound by the Emperor’s decree to comply to the best of their ability.”

That sounded promising. He could simply order the staff of Candle Bay to release his father, claiming that he was suspected of Elder corruption. If they argued, he could threaten them with the involvement of Imperial troops. They would likely give him whatever he wanted.

The future was looking bright until she added, “Of course, you have to justify whatever you do to the Guild Head.”

Picturing Bliss’ blank expression, Calder froze.

“If you have her authorization to begin with, there’s no problem. But if you’re operating on your own, and she doesn’t approve, you’ll have to answer to
her
.”

Alsa leaned forward in the carriage, placing her hand on his knee, and looked into Calder’s eyes with absolute gravity. “Calder. You don’t want to answer to Bliss.”

“No, I do not,” he agreed.

He would have to come up with a different plan.

She leaned back, satisfied. Then she added, “And don’t arrest anyone.”

~~~

“Did you know my mother once worked in an Imperial Prison?” Jyrine mentioned idly, during a tutoring session.

Artur’s eyebrows raised. “Oh, is that so? Well, the journal of Estyr Six only mentions the prisons this once. If you’ll return your attention to the text, you’ll see—”

“Did Estyr help to establish the original prisons?” she interrupted.

“As I said, her journal only mentions them once, in passing.”

Calder decided to throw in his support. “But surely you have to know, right? She’s one of the heroes of the early Empire, she has to be mentioned in more than just her own journal.”

Artur glanced over at Vorus, who was scribbling something onto a loose piece of paper. “This is really my brother’s area of expertise more than mine.”

Vorus held up a sheet of paper. “Jorin designed,” it read. “Estyr enforced.”

Artur brightened. “Ah, of course! Thank you, Vorus. You see, the original Imperial Prison was built off the coast of Aurelia, on the land we now know as the Gray Island. It was a prototype designed and built by Jorin himself: Jorin the Curse-breaker, Jorin the Maze-walker. He gets less of a mention in history because he tended not to involve himself openly in battles, but many historians speculate that he was one of the Emperor’s original companions.”

Finally! An interesting story out of Imperial history.

“Does that have any relationship to Imperial prisons today?” Jerri asked, as Calder feverishly sketched notes.

“Very little, I would think. Jorin’s prototype is more the sort of thing you’d find in an adventure novel—spikes, false passages, alchemical traps, stone invested to trap intruders. I suspect it was more of a hobby to him than a serious architectural endeavor.”

Calder dropped his pen, disappointed, but Vorus had picked his back up. He held out another sheet of paper to his brother.

“That’s right, that’s right!” Artur exclaimed. “One of the most innovative bits of Reading in Imperial history, and I almost forgot to mention it. Jorin designed one device for the gates of his Gray Island labyrinth that is supposedly still in use today. Modern prisons all have an analogue, you see.”

Calder tried to keep the impatience from his voice. “And? What is it?”

In excitement, Artur pounded his massive fist on the table. Everything on the wooden surface jumped six inches in the air. “A way to
detect Readers.
Imagine it! There’s no difference medically in Readers and ordinary people, so there should be nothing to detect, but Jorin managed to pull it off nonetheless. I suppose he uses a structure that is particularly sensitive to unconscious Intent, but I can’t imagine
how
.”

“I don’t understand,” Jyrine said. “What good does that do? Surely they know if their prisoners are Readers or not.”

“Not the prisoners. Well, yes, the prisoners too. But the staff, and the visitors, and
everyone
who passes through a particular doorway. You can imagine the problems back then, of course. Any Reader who was taken prisoner could simply spend his days investing a tool, even something so simple as a stick, and then shatter the lock with a touch and stroll out. And a Reader who wanted to break someone else out would have only to disguise themselves as staff and have the run of the facility. This device prevents that, both in ancient prisons and today. A remarkable bit of engineering, really.”

Calder’s hopes fell, dashed against reality like those escaping prisoners against the rocks of Candle Bay. If they could tell he was a Reader, they’d be watching him from the second he walked in the door.

Artur continued, not noticing his student’s mood. “That brings us right around to Estyr Six. At the time, she was functioning as an interim Head of the Imperial Guard, so she made sure that the trap detecting Readers was keyed to a device in her possession. If she was alerted to a Reader trying to sneak out of—or into—an Imperial prison, she would send a squad of Imperial Guards to investigate. To this day, any prison in the Capital can requisition Imperial Guards to respond in case of an emergency.”

Calder almost groaned out loud.

By contrast, Jyrine looked delighted. She glanced at him and surreptitiously pointed to herself.

When Calder figured out what she meant, he shook his head.

She pointed to herself more firmly this time.

He shook his head harder.

~~~

Two hours later, Jyrine confronted him in the hall outside his room. “It has to be me,” she said, arms crossed.

“We don’t even know where this ‘detector’ is. It could be in the front door, or it could be in the warden’s quarters. Besides, I’ll be able to sense it before I run into it.”

“If a Reader could sense it, what good would it be?”

She made a good point.

“We just don’t know enough,” he said finally. “There’s a lot more we need to learn. It would be best if we could visit the prison and get a look for ourselves, but they’ve turned me away every time. If we snuck in at night—”

“If I snuck in,” she corrected. “Because you’d get caught by their magical sensor.”

It burned, but she was right. He’d have to rely on her to sneak in.

Not that he had to tell her yet.

“We’ll see,” he said at last.

“I’ll see plenty. Because I’ll be in the prison, while you’re outside waiting.” She uncrossed her arms, smiling proudly.

Calder grumbled and started to make his way downstairs. He was halfway down the staircase when his mother called his name.

She came around the corner carrying an envelope, resting on a tray and sealed with orange wax. “Post for you,” she said. By working alongside her on the docks, he had gotten to know her better, and he’d say that she sounded surprised.

Jyrine took the letter from the tray, glanced at it, and gasped.

Calder held out a hand, and she gave it over wordlessly.

Deliver To
: Mr. Calder Marten and His Current Guardian

At the Residence of Ms. Alsa Grayweather

Sender
: Candle Bay Imperial Prison and Reformative Facility

He tore the envelope open, taking the letter in his hands almost before he realized it. It was a single sheet of paper with remarkably brief contents.

Mr. Marten,

We are delighted to inform you that our resident, Mr. Rojric Marten, has recovered from his most recent medical procedure and is delighted to receive you. Please present yourself at the Candle Bay facility on the second day of next week, between the hours of three and four in the afternoon.

Cordially and professionally,

Ulrich Fletcher, Warden of Candle Bay

C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN

Every time Calder saw Cheska Bennett, her hat got bigger.

This time it was a dark blue two-cornered hat two feet tall and wide enough to serve as a lifeboat. She wore a jacket and pants to match, both blue and trimmed in gold. Everything was trimmed in gold, in fact: her boots, the buttons on her shirt, the sheath that hung at her hilt. She even wore golden ornaments in her long, Izyrian red hair.

Which was
combed
. And
styled
.

“Cheska,” Calder said, by way of greeting. “Did I miss my invitation to the ball?”

She swept him an elegant curtsy, pulling out imaginary skirts. “Captain Marten, welcome to my ship.” She spoiled the manners by grinning. “I know I look good, you don’t have to say it.”

“I’m still trying to get over the shock of seeing you
clean
. What’s the occasion?”

She tipped her hat to one side to scratch her head. “Naberius should have told you. It’s an emergency meeting of the powers that be.”

It seemed Calder should have pressed the Chronicler for more information. “The who?”

“His
sponsors
, he’d say. We were planning on meeting up with you after you nabbed the Heart, but we got word that there was some trouble. I didn’t want to miss anything, so I ran on ahead.”

Calder glanced over the deck of
The Eternal.
It didn’t look like a vessel prepared for battle; if anything, it looked even more scrubbed and tailored than its captain. Like
The Testament,
it was an Awakened ship, so most of its deck was made of a single, seamless, fused piece of wood. But where Calder’s ship was tinged dark green, this wood was a burnt reddish orange, all the way up the mast to the bright red sails.

The two Navigator ships had sailed away from Nakothi’s island as soon as possible. The day afterward, when land was out of view, Cheska had called over for Calder to join her. The two ships now drifted a few dozen yards apart, the Watchmen on both vessels calling back and forth to one another.

Cheska pulled the hat off and turned it in her hands, staring at it as though it contained the secrets of the future. “I, ah...I’m sorry Jerri couldn’t be here. I’d have liked to see her face when she saw me all made up.”

Thinking of his wife caused too many emotions for him to deal with at one time, so he simply nodded and changed the subject. “So where are we meeting these friends of yours?”

The Navigator’s Guild Head walked over to the railing, leaning over the water. She pulled a compass out, looked at it, checked the sky, wet one finger in her mouth and stuck it up to measure the wind, then nodded.

“Here’s good,” she said.

Calder looked around. Other than the peaks of a few distant islands, nothing but blue in every direction. “The middle of nowhere?”

“Might as well be here, then, don’t you think?”

That made as much sense as anything else Cheska had ever told him. “Guild Head, please. I’ve been playing with half a hand this whole time. Tell me honestly: who are we meeting today?”

She considered that for a moment before shaking her head. “Nope.”

“I’m begging you, Captain Bennett.” Formality had never worked on Cheska before, but maybe this time it would give him some kind of an edge.

“Nah. It’s too much fun letting you stew.” She put her compass back into her jacket, and then pulled out a watch from the same pocket. “Besides, they should be here soon.”

Calder scanned the horizon again. This time, he saw three dark spots that might have just been sails. “It’ll take them all afternoon to get here,” he protested.

She walked away, waving a crew member over. “Then I suggest you get ready, Captain. They want you at the meeting. I let you know, so my job’s over.”

With that, she was back to work, ignoring him completely.

That was always his experience dealing with Cheska: she ran him over, moving like a whirlwind, and then moved on before he could get his bearings.

He sighed and looked for someone to row him back to his ship.

~~~

Back on
The Testament,
Calder dug through his chest of clothes, wincing as he knelt without thinking on his wounded leg. He shifted his weight to the knee that wasn’t bleeding through its bandages, pushing aside one outfit after another. He didn’t have anything that his mother would have called suitable, but he should be able to present the image of a proud, hard-working Navigator captain.

His hand rested on folded layers of black at the bottom.

Maybe...

He turned the coat over so that the Blackwatch crest was visible. Even through the fabric, he could feel the lines of the seven iron spikes, sensing the power of their Intent in his fingertips. His mother and the Blackwatch would be involved in this meeting, and Alsa had suggested that Bliss would be back soon. Maybe he didn’t want to represent the Navigators now. The Watchmen had responded with surprising respect when they learned who he was. They might let him back in.