Daniel’s mood improves as our trip takes us out of Heiden District. He passes the time entertaining me with facts about Belveer. “Did you know the whole island looks like one big turtle?” he asks as we arrive at one of the stone bridges built across the canal.
I look over the side into the canal. The water is clear, and I see fish flitting around in it. A canoe heads towards us, its rider’s face obscured by the wide-brimmed hat he wears. The limestone bridge is arched high enough to let smaller boats navigate through the waters.
“I didn’t know that.” I frown. “How would anyone know?”
“I’ve heard people say that the gifted ones made this discovery.”
“The gifted ones?”
“Those in Carnolay able to do unusual things. It’s said that some of them have the power to fly.” He chuckles. “I often picture them with wings, like giant birds.”
“That’s strange to imagine,” I say, nervous over any mention of gifted ones. It’s too close to the truth about me.
As we pass through Market Avenue, we’re swallowed by crowds of people. They bustle around vendors, hurry down roads carrying loads and pushing carts, and speak in animated voices to one another. The buildings and houses, made of heavy wood like those in Jayth, are painted colorfully; blue and yellow and green, as vibrant as the dresses of the women and girls who wander about.
Most people in Galg’s End aren’t natives of Belveer. They’re merchants, sailors and tourists, even mainlanders from Rakoshan, coming to Belveer for simple island life. Because of them, there is comfort and security here, unlike an hour’s walk to Heiden District. There are also lots of guards in the vicinity, quick to beat beggars and chase vagrants out of Galg’s End.
“What about Galg’s End?” I ask, allowing a tall man to pass between us. “Anything interesting about it?”
“That depends on whether you’ve heard of the origin of its name,” Daniel replies as we pass a workshop that stands bigger than its surroundings. The man inside glimpses us through the wide windows. He holds up a hand, and Daniel returns the greeting. I’m not surprised at this exchange. People have been recognizing him with surprising frequency.
“No, I haven’t,” I say.
“There’s an old story about a sailor named Galg, who lived centuries ago. He met a young woman here—an islander. For weeks he wooed her with gifts and his charm, but she refused his advances. She told him she’d never become involved with a womanizer who would eventually leave Belveer and break her heart.”
“Don’t tell me this tale ends with him dying of a broken heart,” I say. “Galg’s End?”
Daniel laughs. “No. Galg eventually convinced her to marry him. His crewmate and those who knew him by reputation declared that to be the end of Galg. You see, Galg was something of a legend across Carnolay, with women pining for him in all of the seaports. But it was here he found love.” He gives me a quick glance. “And for a long time, people from all over the kingdom have been coming here to do the same.”
I gaze at the people around us, at the couples walking through the streets. They’re no different from those I’ve seen in other lands. Maybe I don’t know what to look for. I don’t know what people in love look like.
“My parents had a similar story,” Daniel continues as we round a bend and carve a path through the passersby. “My mother was visiting relatives in Belveer when she met my father here almost two decades ago. She never returned to Rakoshan. She loved him enough to stay."
I look at his face and catch his faint smile. Fond, yet sad. He told me before that his parents died during the plague. He couldn’t have been older than fourteen when it happened.
“You must have been close to her.”
“I was. But I don’t want to ruin this day with gloomy tales of the past.” He slows his pace down a little. “Do you want to eat now? There’s a tavern nearby. The cook makes the best crab dishes in all of Carnolay.”
I nod. We head down several more cobblestone roads covered with muddy tracks. Daniel walks ahead of me, his back strong and broad beneath his brown coat. He possesses the natural grace of a fighter. I wonder if he’s ever had to fight for his life.
I first met him at the harbor a month ago, after taking a boat ride from Rakoshan to Belveer. He was walking down the docks when we bumped into each other. Once we were past apologies, he took one look at my haggard appearance and told me to drop by the shelter if I ever needed a place to stay.
Even then, it didn’t cross my mind to be wary of Daniel. His sincerity drew me to him.
The tavern is tucked away amidst a row of shops, small and modest brown. A fire roars in the fireplace. I let its warmth welcome me as we cross the threshold. Daniel leads us to a round table in a corner, past a few patrons. As he does so, a woman glides over to us. She wears a bright green dress that flows around her ankles and shapes her tall, curvy body. Her blond hair hangs in ringlets around her shoulders.
There’s something motherly about her face when she looks at Daniel.
“Aunt Tilda,” he says. “I’d like you to meet Bree Campbell, one of the shelter’s newest residents. Bree, this is Tilda.”
“My,” she croons, her eyes flashing between me and him. “Danny is one of the few good men left in Carnolay. I’ve traveled far enough to know. Don’t let this one get away from you.” She pats his shoulder, winking at me. “And after a hard day of fishing, I’m sure Danny would appreciate returning home to a doting wife who will soothe his aching body with her—”
“Aunt Tilda, please,” Daniel interrupts.
“—gentle hands.” She cackles, drawing glances from other patrons. “What did you think I was going to say, silly boy?”
His cheekbones flush. I’m sure my face is just as red. He gives her a stern look until she sighs and says, “I don’t see you enough as it is. Don’t deny me the pleasure of teasing you as well.”
Tilda wanders off to get our meal. Daniel shakes his head. “She’s a good woman. She used to be my uncle’s wife. I stop by to see her whenever I can, but now I know better than to bring along company.”
That means he’s never brought Eileen here. “She seems nice.”
“She is. She can also be very nosy.”
I smile at his incensed tone. “I didn’t know you had an uncle.”
“I don’t consider him family.”
Now he sounds blunt. I’ve never been good with people, so I’m at a loss for how to ease this sudden tension. We sit in silence for a long while. I look at the patrons, at the swirling patterns carved into the ceiling, at my hands on the table, anywhere to avoid looking at him.
My gaze stills on the window when I overhear the conversation of the men at the table behind ours.
“A body was found at the old temple this morning,” a man says. “The guards are questioning residents, but there’s already talk of a Twice Born on the island. Can’t say I’m surprised. No one but an animal would have done that to the man.”
I sink deeper into my seat, my stomach cramping with unease. I should have disposed of the Tracker’s body last night. The last thing that Eve and I need is word about us spreading, people panicking. Tensions between us shouldn’t affect our survival.
“What happened in Elcolath was worse,” another says. “Twice Born massacred a whole village last month. Two hundred people dead overnight, nearly half of them children. Tell me, what sorts of men are capable of that? It’s them, I’m sure of it.”
I have a hard time believing this second story. But then, if I were a normal person, I might have a hard time believing a Twice Born travels all over Carnolay, slaying any Trackers she comes across. I’ve never met other Twice Born. Do they really exist? They must, because how else would people know of my existence? And are they like me? Vulnerable girls trying to subdue and bargain with the darkness in them?
Daniel is staring at them.
“You believe them?” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “Twice Born are no more than bedtime stories to frighten children. I find it hard to believe grown men are taking this seriously.”
I fall silent. I don’t want to tell him the truth, but I also don’t want to lie.
“I believe there are people out there who can do extraordinary things.” He rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward. “But the idea that two people share one body is foolish legend. It makes people blame their troubles on imaginary creatures.”
“This makes you angry,” I say.
He taps two fingers against the smooth tabletop. “People said the plague five years ago was started by a Twice Born’s curse.”
I’m stunned. Are we even capable of such a thing? Eve certainly isn’t; she’s able to kill a man with a single strike to his throat, but she can’t cause a plague.
What about me? If I can manipulate a person’s body into a lump of dirt, can I also cause him to develop a fatal disease?
I’ve never tried to see the extent of my power. Eve always said I don’t need to work on improving it; that it might get out of hand if I use it frequently. I don’t know how much destruction I’m capable of causing. And this frightens me.
The atmosphere between Daniel and me is stressed, both of us caught in our own unpleasant thoughts. I hate seeing him so tightly wound. “Would you like me to call you Danny?” I ask to distract him.
“I’d prefer you didn’t.”
His answer stings, but it shouldn’t. Not everyone calls him Danny. Just those closest to him. I shouldn’t expect that to include me.
“Sorry—I didn’t mean it the way you think. You have a distinct way of saying my name.” He picks up my hand and slides his into it, smiling crookedly. “I like hearing it.”
His skin is warm and callused. It feels good against mine, and I take a moment to make sure my voice is steady. “Then I’ll continue to call you Daniel.”
Daniel looks down at our joined hands. He releases me, almost hesitantly. “We almost didn’t meet on the docks that day. My boss had business in the area, and he took me with him. I had just left his side when I saw you getting off one of the smaller ships. I thought you were waiting for someone, because of the way you kept looking around. Then I realized you were wary of everyone. It made me curious about you.”
I didn’t know that he saw me before we bumped into each other. “How did we end up colliding?”
I’m surprised at the redness creeping into his face. “That was my fault. When I approached you, you had your head turned away. I couldn’t move quickly enough out of your path when you took a step.”
“I believe I poked you in the eye,” I recall, smiling when he laughs.
“A small price to pay. But you looked so annoyed afterward that I almost forgot everything I meant to say. I’m glad I had the sense of mind to bring up the shelter.”
“I wasn’t annoyed,” I rush out. Has he really thought so all this time? “Just startled. I was really happy when you invited me. I thought you were so kind. I still do.”
The only reason I didn’t go with him to the shelter right then was because sunset was quickly approaching. Once Eve joined me and the flare of power her appearance caused disappeared, I spent the first night in an abandoned shack on the edge of the Farming District.
“I didn’t do it out of kindness, Bree.” He rests his wrists on the table, his hands interlaced. He stares at them as if he can’t meet my gaze. “Ever since you came to Belveer, I’ve been looking for reasons to spend time with you. I’m selfish because today wasn’t for you. It was for me.”
He’s nervous. I’m stunned to see someone as strong-willed and confident as Daniel acting unsure of himself—because of me. It gives me the courage to say, “I didn’t come to the shelter because I needed a place to stay. I did so because it meant I would see you again.”
Daniel looks up and watches me quietly. “I’m glad you did,” he finally says.
I don’t bother hiding my smile of happiness.
The mood relaxes as we talk through lunch. I learn more about the children at the shelter. He speaks of them with fondness and a deep understanding of their needs. Like Nolan, the little five-year-old boy who shares his bed. He was abandoned by his mother just this winter and spent two freezing nights huddled in an alley when Daniel found him. He’s had nightmares ever since.
“What you’ve done is wonderful.” My chest aches with pain for boys like Nolan, but also with gratitude toward Daniel. I know too much about sleeping outdoors, in the rain and snow, seeking shade on the stoops of shops and homes. Hungry and tired, but mostly afraid.
Every city, no matter how peaceful or civilized, has its predators. Eve protected my nights, but I had only myself during the days.
“What is it?” Daniel asks, sensing the shift in my mood.
I hate that I have to put my walls up against him, but they go up swiftly. Years of practice have made them this way. “Nothing. I was thinking about Nolan.”
“What was your childhood like?”
A safe subject. “Ordinary. Wonderful. I lived with my family in a cottage on a hillside in Sandir.” No Eve then, but I had something more precious. Something I’ve lost forever.
Daniel says nothing but his expression lets me know he’s listening. The rest of the words tumble out. “My mother owned a flower shop. I remember she always smelled like roses. She used to wear a hat whenever she worked.” I smile. “She bought me one—a white hat. I liked to pretend to be her and follow her around the shop, copying everything she did.”
“You mentioned a brother last night,” Daniel says.
“Henry. He was . . . amazing. We used to go to Mother’s shop every week. I would point to each flower and say its name. And each time, he would listen closely, as if it were the most important thing in the world.” Tears burn in my eyes. I blink them back. “He could never say my name. I was always Bina to him, even on the day they took him.”
“I think you’re incredible for searching for your brother all these years,” Daniel says. “For never losing hope. But you don’t have to do it alone anymore, you know. I’m here to help you any way you need.”
Eve’s help has always come at a cost. Daniel is selfless. It’d be so easy to lean on him for support, to let him help me carry my burdens. But as much as he might be willing to help me, I won’t rely on him. I refuse to get him involved in my mess.
“You told me last night that your parents were murdered,” he says. “How did you survive alone for so long?”
“Luck.”
Daniel tilts his head in question. He must see something on my face because he says, “We don’t have to talk about it.”
I repeat what he said to me when I asked about his parents. “I don’t want to ruin this day with gloomy tales of the past.”
“Then let’s talk about our dreams for the future. What do you hope to accomplish after reuniting with your brother?”
The question confounds me. It’s so simple. It shouldn’t take me so long to answer, but I struggle with it. I’ve never thought of life after finding my brother. Survival and Henry—my two driving needs for years. Without them, what will I have left?
“I want—” I’m scared to give voice to the things deep in my heart, the things even Eve might not know, since she’s never addressed them before. “I want to be safe. And content. I want to be surrounded by people whom I love—and who love me in return.”
People who won’t be horrified by what I am.
“That sounds reasonable.”
“What about you?” I ask.
Daniel looks out of the window. The tavern is at a junction of roads. We have a view of the main street that slopes toward the docks in the far distance. He points to it. “See those big merchant ships? I want to travel all over Carnolay in one. To places like Sandir. I’ve heard of the mountains of Sandir; how they’re capped with snow all throughout the year. I want to see them. I could get a job as a deckhand, and make my way up until I man my own ship. But leaving Belveer . . . it would also mean leaving the shelter.”
And he won’t do that. I see it in his eyes. It’s my turn to grab his hand. I squeeze it, trying to pass on to him the hope and determination I feel every day in my quest to find Henry. “You will find a way.”
Our gazes lock. Something passes between us, a jolting current, a tantalizing breeze, and I’m caught in his eyes. I don’t try to escape. Daniel makes me feel alive. He makes me feel like I could wake up tomorrow and be someone else, someone who can love and share freely. But I can’t let myself forget I’m not that person, and this fills me with renewed loss.
The volume of his voice drops a notch. “Bree, listen.”
Everything in me goes still at his serious tone. I know what he will say, and I know what my response will have to be. But he doesn’t get a chance to continue. A clamor erupts at the tavern’s entrance.
“Daniel!” A boy races over to our side, nearly knocking a mug off a nearby table. A man cries out in outrage but he ignores him.
Daniel sighs. “What is it, Robbie? Why aren’t you back at the shelter?”
“It’s about Tobin.”
Daniel’s expression doesn’t change, but I sense the dread stirring to life in him. Tobin is a free-spirited boy. He’s always getting into trouble, much to his brother’s dismay.
“We—we were picking pockets on the docks and the guards caught Tobin.”
Fury is suddenly etched into Daniel’s face. “You were doing what?”
The boy squirms, looking down at his feet. When he says nothing, Daniel runs both hands over his face. “Never mind. Take me to where he is.” He glances at me. “I’m sorry, Bree. I have to deal with this. Robbie will escort you back to the shelter.”
“I’ll go with you,” I volunteer without thinking. The relief that crosses his face tells me I said the right thing.
“Lead the way, Robbie,” he orders.
#
The noise increases as we near the docks. The trade ships are massive and surrounded by a flurry of activity as sailors load and unload cargo. One of them heads out into the expanse of the glimmering sea, its white sails flapping in the breeze.
Some of the people milling around are dressed in the colorful silks of travelers from Rakoshan. Wealth and class emanates from them. A few glance my way, and I feel their disdain at the sight of my rough clothing and unkempt hair. They think I’m a beggar—and they’d be right. Daniel fares better; one look at his stormy face and they scramble out of his way.
He would make a fearsome captain.
I hear Tobin’s voice before I see him. “Let me go,” he shouts.
Daniel immediately bursts into a run, shoving through the crowds. I sprint after him. When we reach his brother, he kneels on the ground next to stacked wooden crates, flanked by several men. Three of them are Belvian guards, garbed in red and white.
Tobin looks like a small Daniel, but he’s the opposite of him in temperament: impatient and capricious. “Told you my brother will be here!” he yells and starts to rise upon seeing us.
A man shoves him down.
“Don’t touch him,” Daniel says, a note of threat in his voice.
“You should be grateful I haven’t already skinned this little thief’s hide,” the tall, bearded man responds. He has on a light-blue silk shirt and dark breeches. Clothes and hair immaculate, he wears his arrogance like a cloak. No doubt a nobleman from Rakoshan.
Daniel steps up to him. “Did my brother wrong you, sir?”
“Other than by being an absolute brat? No. I’m not the misfortunate gentleman robbed by him.” He points to a heavyset, balding man behind him. “He was.”
“I gave him back his money, Danny,” Tobin said, scowling darkly. “It wasn’t even much. Just a couple of coppers.”
“Enough to earn you twenty lashes, you little scamp,” the first man snaps.
“You just try. I’ll get my uncle to—”
“Tobin,” Daniel cuts in. “Quiet.”
“It’s the truth! If they do anything to me, Uncle Maxwell will kill them.”
There’s that name again; Maxwell. The same one Henderson the landlord used when he came by the shelter earlier. He must be the uncle that Daniel didn’t want to discuss.
The balding man makes an outraged sound. Daniel bends down and grabs his brother’s arm, jerking him to his feet. “Close your mouth, Tobin, or I swear I’ll leave you here and let them do whatever they want with you.”
Tobin’s shock lasts a fleeting moment before a petulant expression settles across his face. But he refrains from responding. Daniel straightens up and addresses the men, “I’m sorry for the trouble my brother has caused. I’ll deal with him once we get home.”
He lays his hand across Tobin’s shoulders and turns to walk away.
“Hold on, now. We’re not finished here.”
My stomach sinks at the gleam in the nobleman’s eyes. “Like I said before,” he adds, “stealing a good man’s money earns him at least twenty lashes.”
“He stole nothing from you,” I cry out and add, “sir,” when he glares at me. I have to watch my words. No matter how much I loathe Rakoshan nobles, I can’t risk making things worse for Daniel and Tobin.
“A crime is a crime, wouldn’t you say?”
“Indeed it is, Ashin,” the bald man replies. He seems more interested in the approval of his peer than seeing Tobin pay for his theft.
“You will not touch my brother,” Daniel says. “I’ll bear his punishment.”
He doesn’t know that this man is out for blood. “Daniel. Don’t.”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
A crowd has gathered around us. The people jostle their way to the front, eager to witness someone else’s pain. I’m sickened by them, and by these guards who do nothing but bend to the will of these nobles. Belveer is a modest island; someone from a grand city like Rakoshan is held in high esteem. This won’t be over until Ashin’s had his fill.
“Move, girl,” he says.
I can’t bring myself to do so. I told myself I wouldn’t interfere, but I can’t allow myself to be a witness to injustice like these people.
Ashin’s face twists with anger. “Step aside!”
He grabs my arm and yanks me to the side. As he does so, his sleeve pulls up, revealing the Sunblade tattoo on the inside of his wrist.
I take a step backward, my eyes widening. This isn’t just any Rakoshan noble.
This man is a Tracker.