A Jewel Bright Sea Read online

  Koszenmarc gave her a weary grin. “I didn’t get myself killed, no. And yes, we have our man. What about up here?”

  “Two of ours killed, Elias and Ajar. Five wounded. No sign of Druss—”

  “She’s dead. Have someone fetch her body—two bodies, actually. I’ll show you where in a moment. Perimeter guard?”

  “Already set. A few of Druss’s people got away from us,” she added.

  He waved a hand. “I would be shocked if it were otherwise. Meanwhile, take charge of our new friend. Set a guard over him and make certain he doesn’t cause trouble. Oh, and send out a patrol to see if there are any more underground passageways…” He paused and raked his hand through his hair. “Sorry. You know what to do.”

  Eleni hauled Sarrész to his feet. She ignored his complaints and bundled him over toward the camp. Anna started after them, but Andreas stopped her with a gesture. “We’ll need to question him before the night is over. We don’t want to give him time to invent new stories.”

  His face was masked by shadow, his voice oddly strained.

  “I won’t force the truth from him,” Anna said.

  “I don’t want you to.”

  “Then what are you trying to say?”

  “I’m not sure. Only…we must find that jewel.”

  His voice was low and quick. Urgent. She ought to understand. She had—once had—her own reasons for recovering the Emperor’s jewel.

  “I should see to our wounded,” she said at last.

  He released an audible sigh. “And I ought to make the rounds, if only to show everyone I’m alive.”

  One of the guards directed Anna to a shelter near the fire where five of Koszenmarc’s crew lay. It was far better than she had feared. Two had only minor injuries—bruised ribs, a sprained wrist. One man had a broken arm, which Katerina was binding with a makeshift splint. Karl had a gash along his ribs.

  Then she came to Felix.

  Felix lay close to the fire, shivering under several blankets. His skin was grey and cold to the touch. Anna made a quick examination. No gut wounds. No broken bones. The only injury was a shallow cut on his cheek, which had already scabbed over. He was muttering to himself in a dialect of Veraenen she didn’t recognize.

  Poison, damn her.

  She hurriedly measured out five drops of Thea’s strongest potion into a mug, then filled the rest with water. With some coaxing, she managed to persuade Felix to swallow the dose. His face immediately flushed dark red, and he wheezed alarmingly. The next moment, his color subsided and he drew a long breath. His pulse was weaker than Anna liked, but at least he was breathing more easily, and he no longer had the look of the dead.

  “Will he make it?” Eleni said quietly.

  “I…don’t know,” Anna replied in a low voice.

  Eleni exhaled sharply. “Damn that Druss. Well, we must do what we can and trust the gods for the rest. I’ll have Katerina watch over him. She’ll send for you if anything goes wrong. Right now the captain wants you for questioning our prisoner.”

  Sarrész had been deposited in a small tent on the other side of the camp. Andreas stood outside, hands clasped behind his back, waiting for her. He had the air of someone deeply frustrated.

  “He’s proving difficult,” he said in answer to her questioning look.

  “And this surprises you?” she asked.

  He gave a short laugh. “Fair enough. I’m hoping you’ll have more luck than I.”

  The tent was barely large enough to hold three people. A lantern hung from the tent poles overhead and cast a dim light over the dirt floor. Sarrész lay curled around himself at the far end, as though he expected another kick. The strips of cloth they had used to bind him had been replaced by sturdier bonds of rope, wrists and ankles both, though someone had shown him mercy and tied his hands in front.

  At Anna’s entrance, Sarrész jerked his head around and winced. His face had that pinched look she associated with deep and unremitting pain. It was hard to imagine him seducing all those men and women. Then he turned his head, and the light caught his features just right, drawing lines and shadows across that once-voluptuous face. Yes, she could see it. Just.

  Our prisoner.

  The exhilaration of victory faded.

  “You need a healing,” she said.

  Sarrész grunted. “As if anyone cared.”

  “It doesn’t matter if we care, we have questions to ask,” Andreas said.

  “Or you’ll do what? Torture me? Druss did that already. Gods, don’t any of you get tired of asking the same fool questions over and over?”

  “No torture,” Andreas said. “A bargain. Tell us where you hid the Emperor’s jewel. We’ll share the reward with you.”

  At that, Sarrész laughed, a wheezing, silent laugh. “And when I do, you hand me over to whatever bastard you work for. Then they kill me. I’m going to die, no matter what, so why should I do you any favors?”

  “You won’t die,” Andreas said. “I need you for a witness.”

  He held a flask to Sarrész’s mouth. The man eyed him suspiciously but took a sip. His eyes widened and he took another, longer swallow. When Andreas took back the flask, Sarrész gave a sigh and fell back on the blankets. Only now did Anna see the dark bruises on the man’s face and throat, more on his chest, where his tattered shirt hung open—signs of a long and steady beating.

  “Tell us about Brun,” Andreas said.

  “I told you already. He wanted that damned jewel. He offered me money. Same as Lord Brun and those others offered you.”

  “Not exactly like me. You say he murdered that young priest.”

  “Yes, yes. He wanted me dead too. So I ran.”

  “To Eddalyon, where you tried to sell the jewel to Druss.”

  Sarrész’s answer came in a whisper. “Because I was tired of running. Tired of hiding from Brun. From Druss. The jewel’s dangerous, you know, no matter how sweet she talks. Calls herself Ishya. Lovely as Lir and all the stars. But dangerous, damned dangerous.”

  “If you mean the Emperor’s jewel, she is,” Andreas agreed. “She’s left a trail of dead from Duenne to Eddalyon, some of them friends of mine. Tell us where you hid the jewel, and we’ll make certain you survive.”

  But Sarrész was having none of that. “You tell a pretty tale. What’s the difference between you and Isana Druss?”

  “None. I told you I need a witness.”

  Sarrész spat at him. “Fuck you and your promises. Kill me. I don’t care. Dump my cursed body in the ocean and be done with me.”

  Andreas muttered a curse. Anna stared at Sarrész. He seemed indifferent to death. That was not in his character, not from any report, not from everything she had observed. He was planning yet another impossible escape. But how? He had almost drowned when the jewel dropped him in the middle of the ocean—

  “You hid your precious jewel very well,” she said softly. “In your boots, am I right? And now you think Ishya will save your life again. Andreas, let’s take a look at those boots.”

  “Good idea.” Andreas bent down and seized Sarrész’s feet. Sarrész kicked and tried to twist away but was hampered by the ropes. He subsided, panting angrily, as Koszenmarc tugged off the boots and handed one to Anna. The other he examined himself.

  The uppers had once been very fine, constructed from expensive black leather, but now they were stained and buckled from saltwater. Anna thought she could read every mile of their long, long hunt in these boots. And the heels…she had first seen their shape on the sands of Vyros.

  Thick. So thick they were unfashionable. She ought to have recognized that at once.

  She ran her fingers over the notch at the back of the heel. Nothing. Not even a hint of a signature.

  Ei rûf ane gôtter. Ane Lir unde Toc. Ei rûf ane jeweul.

  A long and heavy silence, so long
she felt her pulse beating like the waves upon the shore. She was on the point of speaking again when she felt a shift in the world, a sudden gap and a cold sensation, as though the void had opened to her touch.

  Anna uncurled her fingers. A small dark jewel lay in the palm of her hand. When she turned toward Andreas, it winked with a blood-red light, so dark and vivid it was as though it had absorbed all the light from the torches and campfire. The next moment, she saw a depthless blue spark inside her palm, then a shadowy green. Her vision blurred. A white fire flared, and she thought she saw the jewel blur as well, its shape melting into something far different. A man. A woman. An alien creature that defied any classification of sex or gender.

  Oh, oh, oh. This was no magical object. This was a living, thinking being. Surely Lir had not imprisoned one of her creations and turned it into a slave of humankind.

  No, said a voice.

  Her breath caught. She knew that voice. It had spoken to her weeks ago, on the edge of the magical void, as she searched for Aldo Sarrész.

  Ishya?

  She thought she heard a faint whisper from the jewel, from Ishya, even as its presence folded upon itself and vanished. Once more, she felt a blankness where she expected magic to reside.

  “What is it?” Andreas said. “What did you see?”

  Anna shook her head. She doubted she had the words to describe what she had heard. Felt. Sensed. With shaking hands, she tore a strip of cloth from her shirt, wrapped up the jewel, and tucked it into her breastband. Her whole body trembled, whether from that strange, unaccountable magic, or the long night, or simply the release from terror.

  “Your…your client will be pleased,” she managed to say.

  But Andreas did not have the air of someone granted a great victory. His was almost a pensive expression as he studied her. “Never mind about my client,” he said with a glance toward Sarrész. “Let us leave our friend here to the watch. I have a few things to discuss with you.”

  Outside the tent, he paused to pass along orders to the guard standing watch. Water and a meal for the prisoner, and a fresh set of clothes. He was to be allowed a chamber pot and reasonable privacy. However, at each change of watch, the new guard was to double-check Sarrész’s bonds, and no one was to speak with the man.

  “Will your client release him?” Anna said softly.

  “Hardly. He is not a forgiving man. But his testimony is necessary, and that might be enough to save his life afterwards.”

  What kind of client demanded a witness? But Anna was too weary by now to insist on answers. They crossed the campsite in silence, to a much larger tent near the tumbledown walls of the ruins. Here Koszenmarc gave orders for a meal to be brought. He held the tent flap aside and motioned for Anna to enter.

  Only after she was inside did she realize this was his own tent, illuminated by a lantern, and with a bedroll laid out and his gear stowed neatly off to one side. Anna settled herself in one corner. Koszenmarc unfolded one of the blankets, and when the meal arrived, he laid out the tin plates and dishes himself. “It might be midnight,” he observed, “but we’ll sleep more easily with full stomachs.”

  Their dinner consisted of cold rice and smoked beef, flatbread soaked in honey, and hot, strong tea. By the time Anna had consumed her share, her head no longer ached. Rain had begun to fall, pattering against the canvas ceiling. A fair distance away, she heard the chatter of guards, Eleni barking at them to keep a proper watch, and then Maté’s low, soothing voice.

  Andreas Koszenmarc poured more tea for them both. He took a sip, set the mug aside. “I need to tell you several things,” he said quietly. “The most important is what we must do with this jewel. I...” He drew a long breath. “I was lying when I said my client would pay us money for its return.”

  Oh. Gods. Just what she had feared. Koszenmarc’s client was a hostage nation, one that had surrendered because it had no choice, or one that feared the Emperor’s endless hunger for new lands. They might have promised any number of intangible things. Including a title or holding for a dishonored son.

  “Andreas...” She folded her hands together. “Andreas, I can’t—”

  He held up a hand. “Let me finish. My client did promise a reward, but it’s not one that can be counted out in coin. This jewel doesn’t belong to you. Or me. Or to that miserable excuse of a thief Aldo Sarrész. I’m not entirely certain it belongs to the Emperor—”

  “It doesn’t,” she said emphatically. “Andreas, the jewel is not a thing. It’s alive.”

  He stared at her, his expression horrified. “Oh. Is that what you couldn’t describe? That’s—” He broke off and rubbed his forehead. “Oh dear gods. Are you certain? No, don’t answer. Of course you are. So, what should we do if we don’t return the jewel to the Emperor?”

  Of all the answers she’d imagined, this wasn’t one of them.

  “What are you saying?” she whispered.

  “I’m saying we have only a few choices,” he said. “Return the jewel to the Emperor and hope for a reward. Sell it to the highest bidder. There are any number of provinces who want to break free from the Empire. Or we could drop the jewel into the deep, but then you wouldn’t have your money.”

  Anna had a brief, horrible image of the jewel, trapped forever in the depths of the ocean. Then the full import of his words struck, and she swallowed against the knot in her throat. “You think I might object.”

  “No, but—”

  “But yes. You do believe that,” she burst out. “You said as much just now. Not with words, oh no. But you did with your eyes, the way you stared at me, with the tone of your voice that said you believed I wanted money more than honor. Yes, I wanted the money, but I do have honor. As much as the world allows me.”

  Her voice cracked. What did it matter, what Andreas Koszenmarc thought? With an inarticulate curse, she sprang to her feet. Andreas was faster. He seized her by the arm, then immediately snatched his hand back.

  “And what did you think of me?” he demanded. “That I was a greedy pirate, who wanted nothing more than a bucket of denariie? You know nothing about me, or why I might need the kind of reward an Emperor can give me.”

  His eyes were large and bright, like polished coins. He was so close she could smell the scent of his sweat, the spicy scent of Eddalyon itself, like nothing else she had ever known.

  Anna tried to draw a breath and could not, not with him standing so close. She needed miles and years and another lifetime, at least, before the weight against her chest eased. If it ever did. “Andreas...”

  “I am not Marcus Brun,” he said quietly. “I can’t prove it inside of a night. But I would be grateful if you let me try. Tomorrow. Or longer—”

  Her pulse beat faster. A warmth kindled in her gut. It was wrong, she told herself. She ought to wait, to let this man prove himself….

  Anna reached up to touch his cheek. “We don’t need to wait until tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER 22

  His first kiss was like the breeze, a faint caress against her lips. He gave a soft exhalation, as though surprised, before he kissed her again, and again, each one deliberate and unhurried.

  The moments slowed, the moments sped past in a fluid stream, as though the magical current carried them through the night. Memory scattered into bits in its wake. Her tugging off his shirt, him loosening her sash, their clothes falling into a puddle on the floor. His warm hands encircling her breasts. His mouth upon hers. Her legs opening to take him inside because she could not wait any longer. A sharp cry, strangled at the last moment, as she remembered the hands standing watch around them.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  Her belly shivered at the words. “You can’t mean that.”

  They lay entangled in each other’s arms, skin against warm skin. The camp had quieted around their tent, though from time to time Anna heard the rustle of footsteps as t
he perimeter guard made their rounds.

  “I can,” he murmured. “I do.”

  Before she could ask if he was serious, he gathered her into an embrace and pressed his lips against her, an endless, all-consuming kiss that blanked the questions from her mind and sent ripples down the length of her body. It was wrong, she told herself. Wrong, impossible, and so very dangerous to let him inside her defenses. Yet she had. She would again.

  She dug her fingers into his hair. “Stop,” she whispered.

  He stopped.

  “Now lie still.”

  “I...”

  “Hush. Lie still. I want… Let me show you what I want.”

  He made a soft noise of protest, just once. Nothing more.

  CHAPTER 23

  Anna woke at dawn, little more than a suggestion at this hour. The camp lay quiet amidst the even deeper hush of the surrounding jungle. Andreas slept beside her, his left arm draped over her stomach. Soon enough the world would awake. Hornbill would call to hornbill; other birds would sing to the rising day as the watches changed. Soon enough the company would break camp and head back to shore.

  And then?

  For so many weeks, she had pinned all her thoughts on recovering the Emperor’s jewel. She had shied away from any thought or plans for what would come later.

  Now later had arrived. And here she was, even more impossibly entangled with Andreas Koszenmarc.

  As if he’d overheard his name, Andreas shifted in his sleep and exhaled softly. The pale grey light of dawn had grown brighter over the past few moments, and Anna could make out his face. The bruises, dark against his brown skin. The thin red slash running just below his hairline. The mouth now curved in a loose and satisfied smile.

  …His lips running over her skin, like touches of flame. The moment when his mouth closed over her breast. That last engulfing kiss after he drew back from her body and gazed upon her with a bright wondering look, and they both collapsed into each other’s arms and into sleep….

  “We have no future,” she wanted to say. “Never mind the jewel. You’re a duke’s son and a pirate. And I—”