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03: Cassian
“All I'm saying is that we haven’t been to Escaria in a while. They’ve probably forgotten all about the incident,” Ollie said. They were leaning against the railing, eyeing the spit of land that curved around the harbor; Cas already knew they were thinking about drawing it. Would be drawing it, if they’d brought their sketchbook up here.
“They might have forgotten the incident, but I doubt they’ve forgotten us, Ollie,” Cas replied. “I’m still thinking about Deplyae.”
“We were in Deplyae three weeks ago. And Escaria has such pretty architecture.”
“I’m not going anywhere just for the sake of aesthetics.”
“Aw, please?” they whined, pouting dramatically. Then they broke out laughing at themself in that carefree, joyous way they had. Their head tipped back, and the ocean wind tugged flyaway strands of auburn hair free of their braid. Cas looked away.
It was only because they were laughing that he ventured, “We could try Creulia.”
Ollie stopped laughing. "Only if you want to lose a week going all the way around to the southern side.”
Well, it was worth a shot.
“At this rate, it’ll be a week before we decide where we’re going. Maybe we can try the other side of the world again.”
The “other side of the world” actually meant most of the world. Anywhere outside Cas's same stretch of ocean, the same collection of eight or nine countries. It would be smart to go there, to vary their route a bit, but…
“I think you would jump into the sea and grow gills and a tail before you tried that again,” Ollie said seriously.
But it was a strange ocean. Unfamiliar. The coastlines were all wrong, and the sharks didn’t know him. Cas didn’t balk at many things, but he avoided the other side of the world like a plague. He was about to suggest another destination when a third voice cut into the conversation.
“Hey, guys, come look at this. Might be trouble.”
Ollie cast Cas a glance, somewhere between amused and annoyed. “The kind of trouble you like, Inari, or the kind that ruins our day?”
Inari, perched precariously on the edge of the boat, peered at whatever it was she’d spotted among the docks. “Haven’t decided yet. Looks like fun either way, though.”
Cas sighed. Inari had been with them about six months. She was Skalian and the main reason Skalmere was also not a viable travel destination. People tended to get prickly when their public enemy number one tried to cross the border. Worse, she had yet to learn that her definition of fun was closer to Cas’s definition of a headache and Ollie’s definition of panic. And it was next to impossible to get a straight answer out of her when she didn’t feel like giving one. She wasn't the best choice to keep watch, but as long as she kept them all alive, Cas was willing to deal with it.
So he went to look for himself. At first glance, the harbor looked exactly the same as always. Sailors with illegal cargo dodged businessmen with dark coats and high collars and hats pulled low even though it was summer. The whitewashed buildings were streaked with mud and worse. A dirty, gray corner of a country that prided itself on perfection, left alone because of the profit it turned. No one looked anyone else in the eye or searched for a crack to exploit here. It was the only reason Cas risked Ach laws against magic to take advantage of the country’s wealth. Still, he tried to keep his boat disguised, his face hidden, and the passers-by afraid. Fear against a bounty was a gamble he’d won, so far.
“Them?” Ollie asked, pointing at something in the middle of the shifting crowd.
Cas followed the gesture to a small spot of color in the middle of the crowds. Soft pink and navy blue stood out amongst brown coats and shirts that had once been white and muddy black boots. Two kids clutching each other who definitely didn’t belong. The boy was around Ollie’s age, but the girl looked all of fourteen.
“That’s your trouble, Inari?” he asked.
Inari looked at him like he was being a spectacular idiot. Cas wondered if it would attract too much attention to push her into the harbor. “Sure, they look harmless enough, but why are they here? They’re rich kids. Anyone who’d run away from that has a hole in their head, or they’ve done something so bad they can’t stick around. Hence, trouble.”
“Could’ve stolen the clothes,” Ollie mused.
Inari laughed. “No. First of all, they would’ve picked something a little less obvious if they had any brains at all. Second, they’re too comfortable with themselves and too uncomfortable with this place. I bet they didn’t even realize Ach had an underbelly.”
“You’re making an awful lot of assumptions.”
“Are you going to disagree? Don't tell me you think they belong here.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don't like it."
“Well, they’re not causing any trouble for us yet. Let me know if you find something that’s actually important,” Cas said, and walked away.
He didn’t get more than five steps before Inari said in a pleased voice, “Like that?”
“Inari, I don’t have time for games—"
“Cas,” Ollie interrupted. They didn't need to say more. Cas was already back at the railing.
Inari pointed a smug finger at the small band of sentinels at the main entrance to the harbor. They were as out of place as the kids, obvious in their lavender and gold against the washed-out sepia of the harbor. Now there was trouble. And no matter what Inari said, Cas had a feeling it wasn’t going to be the fun kind.
Both the Ach kids looked back at the sentinels and started running. Cas tracked their progress, willing them away from his boat.
It didn’t work, of course, because Cas had never once caught a break in his entire life. He wasn’t even all that concerned about the sentinels; the rest of the harbor was already organizing to trip them up as much as possible. It was less for the good of the cause and more an opportunity to screw over the government. And Cas was good at getting himself out of scrapes. So mostly he was just annoyed and tired of it all.
“Excuse me,” the boy called in a polite northern accent that screamed money and grated on Cas’s ears. “Excuse me, we...need a ride.”
“A ride?” Cas and Inari asked at the same time but with very different inflections.
“Safe passage to wherever it is your ship is going,” the boy clarified. The girl nodded emphatically, looking back at the spots of purple breaking through the crowd.
“We should probably get on that,” Inari commented, not in a particularly urgent way. “The going, I mean.”
“Give me a minute. I’ll handle this,” Cas said.
He vaulted over the railing to land on the deck in front of them. It protested at the impact, and the girl looked down at her feet in alarm. Cas crossed his arms and gave his two new problems his best glare.
“I don’t care what you two did,” he began. The girl looked up hopefully. “I do care that there are sentinels coming for you, because if I take you with me, they’ll be coming for me, too. That sounds like an awful lot of trouble to go to for no good reason.”
“What if we paid you?” the boy asked. “Is that a good reason?”
Cas pretended to consider. “Can’t spend money if I’m dead.”
Not that a handful of trussed-up soldiers would ever manage that feat, but hey, it was the principle of the thing.
The girl’s gaze caught on something over Cas’s shoulder. A frown creased her forehead, and her eyes widened. Cas didn’t need to turn to know what she’d spotted. A word in dripping, messy paint on the side of his boat, partially hidden from the rest of the docks. He’d put it there himself, a long, long time ago. The light of death; the Gravestar. The boat’s name was as infamous as the crew it carried by now, and from the girl’s expression, she recognized it.
Cas eyed her, poised to fight and then flee if she moved.
“You’re him,” she said, eyes flicking between the boat and the crew. “Todorova.”
“Yeah. What about it?”
“You...you’re magic,” the girl said. “You’re the magic ones. I’ve heard about you. You’re magic.”
There was something new in her voice that Cas didn’t recognize. He shifted his weight, tense. Magic wasn’t usually the first word people chose when they met him. They preferred monster, maybe demon if they believed in that sort of thing. Magic was the truth, but the others weren’t far off either.
The sentinels were getting closer. Cas needed to end this.
“Is there a point there, or are we done here?” Cas asked. The kids hesitated for a beat too long, and over his shoulder he said, “Ollie, get us ready to shove off. We’re cutting this visit short.”
“Wait!” the girl blurted. Her jaw shook for a moment, trembling from the effort of keeping something in or forcing it out. “I...I’m magic, too.”
The boy's face went through a series of complicated expressions before he schooled his features again. “So am I.”
“Told you,” Inari sang. “Fun.”
Cas ignored her and checked the progress of the sentinels. Too close for comfort but currently being waylaid by an entire troop of sailors. Still, it wouldn't last long.
“You’ve got about a minute before things start to go very, very bad for you,” he said. “So, let’s talk. Assuming you’re both telling the truth, I’m still not going to take you on for free just because you’re magic.”
Fewer dead magical kids was something the world sorely needed, but Cas wasn’t quite generous enough to risk the lives of his crew for it.
The boy got the hint. “Two thousand afaran. To take us...anywhere. Anywhere outside of here.”
“Solid plan you have there,” Cas said. “Make it three, and I’ll consider it.”
The two exchanged glances. The shouting crowd undulated like a restless sea and spat out one lavender uniform after the other.
“Tick-tock,” Inari warned in a high-pitched mockery of a northern accent. “Decision time.”
“Fine,” the boy said. “Three thousand.”
He started to move around Cas, but Cas stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Hold on. You don’t get a thing till I get paid.”
“How do we know you won’t just take it and strand us?” the boy countered.
Alright, so he had some guts. Cas shrugged. “Fine, but if we get out of here in one piece and you can’t pay up, I’ll throw you overboard. You’d better hope you aren’t lying to me. The sharks out there get mean.”
“‘Specially when they smell blood,” Inari added with a wicked sort of glee. Cas heard the soft unsheathing of a knife.
The girl shied away, eyeing her. “We got it."
Cas grinned. “Come aboard, then.”
The three of them scrambled back on deck. Ollie had already untied most of the ropes, and Inari finally deigned to help as the sentinels reached the end of their dock.
The sails unfurled. Cas raised both hands and clenched his fists. Five of the uniforms went down, clawing at their throats, gasping for air that wasn’t there. Their breath squirmed like a fish in his hands, invisible but strong. Cas pushed it toward the sails, an extra little gust of wind to blow them out of the harbor that much faster. A few more of the sentinels scrambled after them. Inari laughed as she pulled the last ropes neatly away, and their wild hands grasped only air.
Cas released his magic when they were out of immediate danger. The ones he’d put down rolled around, coughing, while their fellows helped them up. A few of them stood uselessly at the water’s edge, glaring at Cas. He shot them a two fingered salute and turned back to his crew.
“We’ll head south,” he said. “Stop at a smaller port long enough to pick up extra supplies. Depending on exactly how much trouble those two”—he gestured at the new kids—”got themselves into, we should have at least a day before all the bureaucracy untangles itself and they can send a ship after us.”
“I’m assuming that as the person least likely to get caught, you’re going to volunteer me for the shopping?” Ollie asked.
“You better be,” Inari said. “I hate Ach cities. No offense. No, wait, full offense. You guys suck.”
“I don’t think I care if you approve of my city,” the boy said, crossing his arms over his chest, “considering you’re a criminal.”
“So’re you,” Inari pointed out.
“Anyway,” Cas interjected. “I believe I’m owed money. Need to pay to feed you somehow.”
“You mean you don’t steal everything you own?” the boy muttered, digging in his bag. Cas should probably learn his name. If he cared enough later, he would. “Here.”
Inari whistled as a thick stack of purple afaran changed hands. Cas took it without comment and flicked through to make sure it was real. He split it up amongst the crew before tucking his share into an inside pocket of his tattered vest.
“Looks like we’re in business,” he said with a sharklike smile. “Which I suppose means introductions are in order. Cassian Todorova, but you already knew that.”
The boy eyed his outstretched hand as if it might bite and didn’t take it. Cas grinned wider and put it in his pocket instead.
“Eira,” the girl said. The boy said nothing, so after a moment she added, “This is Tyrian.”
Inari snorted a little. “Ach names.”
“And I suppose yours is so great?” the boy—Tyrian—snapped.
“I’d say so. Inari. Pleasure to meet you. Nothing gets the blood pumping like nearly being killed at shit-o-clock in the morning.”
Eira looked offended, which was the standard reaction to Inari.
“This is our Ollie,” she added, nudging them. They waved. It was early yet, but as Cas looked around at them, he thought that maybe, maybe Inari was right. They could have a bit of fun with this.