Of 8,754 merchant ships leaving the Port of Diligence, 6,517 delivered their goods in time. Another 1,841 ships arrived at their destination late, with wares still salvageable. Unexpected detours and bad winds were the main culprits. The foreigners still speak highly of the quality delivered.
Fox had no clue what was happening.
There was a flurry of whispers by the bar, a hissing contest between Doe and Phoe. The young warrior was leaning over, his foot resting on the silver rail. Every now and then, he turned his head towards Fox, pity in his eyes.
It enraged him. First, Katla had chased him away from Mage Tower, and now Phoe and Leo couldn't find him anywhere. Why didn't they believe him when he had said Katla was going to explode?
What if that had really happened, and they would never find another trace of him?
With determined, marching strides Fox approached the adults. He tugged furiously at the strap of Phoe's duffel bag, sick of their secrecy. "You don't have to whisper. I wanna know where Katla is. And Leo too."
Phoe stared at him, a blank look on his face. He took the bag from his shoulder and pushed it into Fox's hands. "Here, go change into something dry."
"But..." As words failed him, Fox rummaged in the bag and found a set of Hunter's old summer clothes: the brown linen pants he avoided wearing cause they were a size too big, a black long-sleeved shirt that had the same problem, and a grey jacket that had a couple of buttons missing.
How had Phoe managed to get these? He pulled at the warrior's sleeve, but Phoe was too busy continuing his hushed conversation with Doe. "I begged Leo not to inform his Majesty, but then we ran into him when we came down from Mage Tower. And Leo made a valid point–His Majesty needs to know, for Fox's sake."
"What does the King need to know?" Fox asked.
It made no difference; even Doe ignored him or pretended she hadn't heard his question. "Phoe, you do know where he is, don't you? He always staggers to the forest when it becomes too much. Did you check that place?"
Fox gasped and jumped up and down to capture their attention. Falcon had only just told him about the royal forest where Katla unleashed his unstable magic to the trees. "I'll come too. We have to save him from the cold."
"No, darling." Doe touched her throat, shaking her head. "Get changed into your clothes, and then heat up by the fire. Let Phoe and me take care of this."
"But why not? He's my master."
"Because it's not safe for you."
He clutched the duffel bag to his chest and retreated to the couch by the fire, pouting. This was just like all those times in Laneby when Father thought he was too small or too clumsy to forge the red-hot iron. He was ten and a half, almost a man, and a Fire Magician too. He was much more capable of handling fire than anyone in The Antler.
If they thought he would leave it like this, they would be mistaken. He fished the trousers out of the bag and stuck one leg through the hole, then the other. Squirming in his seat, he pulled the trousers up. Those stupid things reached all the way to his belly button.
In the background sounded the rattling of iron against iron. Doe handed him her set of keys. "It's your responsibility now, Phoenix. If anything happens to Fox or my tavern, I will cut off your–"
"Whoa-whoa." Phoe held his hands in the air. "It won't come to that, Mama Bear. I'll take care of the both of them."
"Good. I'll see what I can do for Katla."
Fox undid the coat and slithered into the long-sleeve shirt. Doe was leaving, but he was going to let her. Let her be his secret guide to Katla.
He got up from the chair and crouched down by the fire to retrieve his belt. He shoved the leather through the four loops and tightened it. With the mission he was planning, he didn't want to get distracted by his trousers slipping down his bottom.
The bell above the door clung against the frame, jangling, and thus Doe disappeared into the night. Two bites Fox took from the apple pie, then a third. He rested the fork against the remainder of the treat and put on his jacket.
"I need to pee." He stepped into his moist shoes, bare-footed, and tied a sloppy knot.
Phoe briefly glanced up from the tap, the amber liquid pouring down a still wet mug. "Do what you must do, but don't freeze to death. I have you, this place, and my private parts to protect."
"I know. I heard," Fox said casually while laughter came from all corners of The Antler.
Leaving those men in their hilarious moment, he held his chin high as he walked past Falcon, careful not to meet the man's eyes. Phoe was a Foambrain who could be easily fooled, but he didn't wanna raise any suspicion from the Rat-Catcher.
Fox took the back door out, yet instead of walking the ten steps to the dark man-sized box that was Doe's outhouse he sank down to his hands and knees and crawled underneath the windows.
By the fence separating the tavern from the house next door, he rose to his feet again. It was a moonless night in Moondale and the wind had picked up, causing snow and ice to blow into his face. With his head hanging low he stepped into the fresh footprints in the snow and locked onto her trail.
Doe was walking alongside the castle walls, thick and menacing, like a cloud of the blackest smoke that stood ready to pounce him and swallow him whole. But he wasn't scared. He could defend himself if needed, and Doe too.
He ducked behind a lamppost. A bulky shadow had appeared at the castle gate and was now making its way to her. Quickly, Fox stretched out his hand, a bright green flame already blazing in his mind, when the contours of the creature sharpened and became a man, cloaked in a thick, furry coat, but familiar nonetheless. Leo.
They chatted, the blaring wind not allowing Fox to hear what they were saying, but with their sides turned in his direction, he didn't dare to sneak closer and risk getting exposed. So he waited while his toes froze in their ice cast, his face numb, and his fingers stuck in their position.
He clenched his teeth to stop their clattering. And failed.
And then finally they moved. First into the street of his and Katla's house, but the two rushed right past it. It was strange for Fox to see his home like this, no light shining behind the curtains, nor any smoke rising from the chimney. The memory of Katla running his blade across his shine, cutting his gooseberry jam beard, seemed so far away though it had only been a couple of hours.
Leo and Doe took him beyond the edges of the city, past the narrow bridge filled with the cat statues and into the darkness. Heavy clouds of breath escaped his lips, the cold weather pounding his underdressed body. He still had the chance to turn around and head back to the warmth and cosiness of The Anter, but he didn't.
He was no longer a scaredy cat. He was Fox.
Above the distant treetops spread a bright orange light. Trees began to crack and creak, then came a heavy thump that shook the ground and reverberated through him. Only briefly Leo and Doe halted before they trudged on, every step bringing them closer to the noise and smoky smell.
Leo leapt over a ditch to get into the forest. Fox ducked and laid down on the ground as the man reached out his hand to aid Doe to the other side. His skin stung as he waited for them to disappear behind the trees. He was going to count to ten, and then move on.
One... two... three... four...
The counts seemed to take an eternity. He was cold, so incredibly frozen to the core, and he couldn't wait any longer. So he got back up and ran up to the small stream. He jumped, his left foot sliding down as he landed.
"What was that?" Leo called out. He sounded near, very near.
Fox let himself sink lower, meeting a hard layer of ice instead of water. Praise the Goddess of Kindness for not sending more misfortune his way. He shrank into a ball, his breath sending a welcoming warmth to his chest.
"It was the wind playing games," Doe assured him.
"It didn't sound like the wind," Leo mumbled.
"What else would it be?"
"I don't know."
The crunching of their steps in the snow dulled. Fox peaked over the ditch; trees and shadows for as far as he could see. No Doe. No Leo.
Until there came a second beam of light that illuminated the entire forest. There, behind a boulder larger than three outhouses they stood. While Doe looked around the edge, Leo held her, as though he could pull her back at any time.
"Katla?" she asked.
A raspy voice shouted back, "Leave me!"
Fox crawled out and moved to a nearby tree on all fours. This time Katla wouldn't be able to send him away so easily. He wormed further to a nearby shrub. Through the frozen, withered branches he saw how his master fell to his knees in a snowless circle around him. Flames stood at his fingertips as he let out a loud and excruciating groan.
Fire with high intensity escaped his hands and spread across the forest floor, enlarging the circle of melted snow. It hit the still smouldering fallen tree, its branches blazing with the destructive light. The howling wind drowned their crackling but strengthened the flames.
Stop. Fox laid his hand flat on the ground, ordering the fire to die. Within seconds the forest was once more veiled into obscurity.
"Did you see that?" Leo hissed. "Even in winter, the wind isn't too strong to stop forest fires."
"You're seeing ghosts," Doe whispered back. She raised her voice. "Are you done now, Katla?"
When no answer followed, the first hesitant steps were made. Like a predator stalking its prey, Fox chased the scrunching noise and the smell of smoke.
Clouds parted above him, the God of Charity sending moonlight in soft glows. Katla sat crouched in the ruins of his own doing, shaking, his face buried in his hands. Doe kneeled by his side, stroking the ashes and other pieces of dirt from his white hair.
"Don't worry about Ariel." Leo patted him on the shoulder. "He may be grouchy about losing another couple of trees, but it's better here than in the city."
Something glistened, a pearl dangling from Katla's chin. When it dropped, there came another, and yet another. Never had Fox seen grown men cry like that. A lonely tear during a funeral, but never more than that.
Real men didn't cry. That was what Lord Brandon always used to say; what Seb repeated with tedious regularity. Fox didn't think Katla was any less of a man because he did.
"I was wrong, so wrong," Katla whimpered. "Take Fox away. I don't wanna repeat my mistakes."
"You're a Foambrain," Doe said. "Hunter was a bright and gifted boy, but he wanted to fly before he could walk. His death was an unfortunate accident, in which you, Hawk, and the boy each bore part of the responsibility."
"It was my fire that killed him." Katla revealed his face, his eyes glassy and red. "I don't want it to happen to Fox. I've already lost Cinder, Micah, and then Hunter. I can't bear to lose another person I care about because of who I am, or what I am. I'm done, so done."
His master blurred before Fox's eyes. Hunter, the boy whose clothes he was wearing, was dead because of Katla. Now he understood why Hawk hadn't been too keen on assigning him to Katla's care. Had she tried to protect him?
No, she was mean. And Katla was not.
"I've discussed the situation with Ariel," Leo said. "He didn't realise the sickness still plagued you, but the boy is important to him too. He also believes the boy shouldn't stay with you when you're like this."
"No!" Fox jumped up, abandoning his cover and hiding place. "I won't go and live with Hawk. I forbid it."
While Doe's eyes grew big, Katla averted his gaze from him. Leo bumped his elbow into Doe. "I told you it wasn't the wind."
"Fox, what are you doing here?" Doe yelled at him.
Fox clenched his fists, mustering all his courage, as he walked up to them. "You and Phoe were keeping me in the dark. I don't like to be underestimated. People did that to me for many years before I came to Moondale. I'm more powerful than all of you combined, and that's all because of what Katla taught me."
"No-no-no." Katla jerked his head, a grimace contorting his features.
"It's true. You did bad things in Laneby, and I sure still miss my friends and family from time to time, but I'm not afraid of you. I'll never be." Fox inhaled deeply. "You're a better father than my own ever was."
"Fox, darling, you're gonna have to stop talking now." Doe reached for him, but he wouldn't let her.
He took a step back. "No, Don't do this to me. Finally, I feel like I can do things, achieve things. You're not allowed to send me to Hawk. I only want to stay with you. Following you to Silvermark was the best decision–"
Leo grabbed him by his jacket and tugged, hoisting him up. He clamped his hand over his mouth. "Hold your blasted tongue! You're making it worse."
His teeth were ready to bite Leo, when Katla let out a gut-wrenching moan, strands of white hair turning back to black. Fox realised what had happened; he had made Katla happy. And had thus triggered the instability of his magic.
His master limped away, smoke and dark pouring out his mouth. It was Leo's cue to make for the rock, Doe right behind them. Retching noises were followed by black clouds of smoke rising up. Then came a blast of blinding light.
Fox attempted to struggle loose so he could go and help Katla, but Leo kept him tight into his grip. "Hush, kid."
"But I'm a Fire Magician. I can help him." he tried to say, but doubted they would make much of his mumbling.
"Darling, you're gonna have to listen very carefully now." Doe pushed her finger into his chest. "Trying to help is what got Hunter killed. He had heard from Hawk that Katla's outbursts are less extreme when there's someone to extract his magical energy for him, but it's complex magic that only the greatest magicians can do. You cannot help him."
Leo lowered his hand, which allowed Fox to reply, "I wanna learn it. I'm gonna be the best magician that ever lived. You have to let me try."
"Never! Hunter did and paid the highest price." Leo shook him so hard that he couldn't get away. "A fever got him, one that burnt right through him. In minutes he was dead. Do you want that?"
"No, but—"
"Darling, I'm sorry but you can't live with Katla any longer. It's too dangerous."
As Katla's magic slammed into a tree, the wood creaked and groaned. Fox's lips trembled, tears already at the corners of his eyes. "But I'm not gonna live with Hawk. I'll run all the way back to The Greenlands if I must. I hate her."
"Shht, you won't have to do that." Doe stroked his cheek, wiping away the tears before they streamed down. "Leo negotiated a bed for you at The Antler. You'll get to stay with me all winter, until Katla's better."
Fox stopped moving and settled in Leo's arms. If it couldn't be Katla, then having Doe as a guardian wasn't too bad. Her hugs were warm, and so was her apple pie. Phoe and Leo came around very often, and there was always someone in the tavern who he could talk to.
Despite it all, an inexplicable aching settled in his chest. Winter would be too long and too dreary without Katla in his life.
"Can I visit him?" He looked at Doe, and then at Leo. "Please, he's my friend. Your King must understand that, doesn't he?"
"Your King? He's your King as much as he is mine." Leo chuckled uneasily.
"But I'm a Greenlander."
"Yet you live in Silvermark now."
Fox bit his ice-cold finger. Falcon had explained that Katla's only cure was a return to the Jade Islands, which was only possible if King Ariel became King of The Greenlands too. And the King was making him stay at Doe's instead of Hawk's.
Could he forgive the man for Laneby, since it had been Katla's idea? It was not like the King of The Greenlands was anyone who really mattered, or who he knew.
"Yeah, you could say he's my King too." Fox nodded.
"That's more like it." Leo ruffled his hair, then put him down. "I'll stay here for a while, ensure that Katla makes it home. Go and warm up in The Antler. I'll be there shortly too."
Clutching Doe's hand, they walked back to Moondale. Doe chatted about all the chores Fox could help her with. He didn't have to worry about paying her, doing the dishes or helping her gather wood would cover all that.
She sounded cheery, but Fox caught himself looking over his shoulder. They hadn't answered his question about visiting Katla, and he wasn't going to ask again. He would be careful though, and he wasn't afraid of his master.
And thus he created his own routines to pass his days. After helping Doe clean the tavern in the morning, he got out and caught a couple of rats that he sold to Falcon for coins. The man had taught him how to properly tie the rope, so during any good hunt, he was able to bring in at least fifteen animals. Sometimes even sixteen or seventeen.
Falcon's shop was a dingy little place with far too much dust and all kinds of strange bottles and tubes. Fox never lingered long enough to find out the true purpose of rat spleen, or to touch the blanket made out of rat fur. He'd rather spend half of his hard-earned silverlings at the butcher shop and bakery.
With the bread and meat stuffed under his arm, he ran to Katla. Three times he knocked on the door and left the food on the window sill. From behind the barrel in their front garden, he watched as Katla retrieved the two packages. Sometimes his master would look around, smoke blowing out of his nostrils, but mostly he just grabbed the food and went back inside.
It was enough for Fox; a daily ritual to see his master, to ensure that he was fine. Or fine enough at least.
At the end of the first week, Katla left a piece of paper by the window. Something was written on it. As soon as the door closed, Fox snatched it and dashed off.
The letters were jumbled to the point that they almost somersaulted over the pages, but the words were still readable. I'm sorry for everything.
Fox unfolded the letter. A woman with green eyes and fiery red hair smiled at him with curly lips, her dimples were precisely how he remembered her.
Mother.
Katla had drawn his mother for him.
He clutched the paper to his chest and then looked at it again. The only mistake was that his mother had had brown eyes instead of green, but he could fix that. He would ask Doe for some crayons and make it right. From now on the drawing would be his most prized possession, until he had gathered enough coins for his sword.
As if possessed by the God of Diligence, he scampered to The Antler. Though the Silvermark winter reigned and had cast frost on every peg and stone, a warm tingle filled his belly. Eager to retreat to the small bedroom that had once belonged to Doe's youngest son, he entered the tavern.
By the bar stood a familiar balding man, stroking his long, puffy beard. It was Mallard, the marble man.
Weeks he had been gone from the streets of Moondale, but now he had returned.