Stormtide. Den Patrick

breathed Marozvolk, barely daring to peek around the corner of the wagon.

      ‘I think we’re about to find out,’ replied Kimi as the Envoy mounted the steps of an impressive but dilapidated building.

      ‘Citizens of fair Svingettevei!’

      ‘I loathe Envoys,’ muttered Marozvolk. ‘What is this place?’ she added, looking up at the building.

      ‘An old temple to Frejna if I had to guess,’ said Kimi. ‘Look at the crow sculptures over the windows, and the tree motif above the door.’

      ‘I speak to you today on behalf of the Emperor himself,’ called the Envoy in a booming voice. ‘I bring you warning of a terrible danger growing in the south.’ A crowd was starting to form around him. ‘As many of you know, the cities of Shanisrond are teeming with pirates!’

      ‘We should go,’ said Marozvolk, still remaining out of sight behind the wagon. ‘It’s not safe.’

      ‘I just want to hear what he’s going to say,’ replied Kimi.

      ‘Envoys are failed Vigilants that are too useful to kill,’ hissed Marozvolk. ‘If he has the sight then I could be in a lot of danger.’

      ‘These thieves have harassed Imperial shipping for many months,’ continued the Envoy. ‘And now we suspect they will come north.’

      ‘What do you mean, “sight”?’ Kimi frowned.

      ‘It’s how Vigilants detect witchsign. They can see the arcane about you. Some say they can smell it but it’s usually called the sight.’

      ‘You head back to the ship,’ said Kimi. ‘I just want to hear him out.’

      ‘Their agents may even be among you as I speak,’ added the Envoy. ‘And you will know them by their dark skins.’ At this, several of the people turned to glare at Marozvolk and Kimi.

      ‘I’m not leaving without you,’ said Marozvolk through gritted teeth. ‘Can we go now?’

      Kimi stared at the crowd with a frosty look, then turned on her heel and slipped away into the next street.

      ‘I think it’s best I listen to you a bit more in future,’ said Kimi when they were safely away.

      ‘I’m not just trying to protect myself,’ replied Marozvolk, her words clipped with frustration. ‘I’m looking out for you too, Your Highness.’

       CHAPTER THREE

       Kjellrunn

      Kjellrunn had stayed in her cabin all morning. She had no wish to be among the press and clamour of bodies as they vied for position on deck, no wish to squeeze past pirates and novices for the chance to sight land. Kjellrunn had never left Nordvlast before, never gone more than a dozen leagues from Cinderfell in any direction, and now the Watcher’s Wait approached Svingettevei with all its wonders and dangers but she felt nothing.

      She had endured three weeks of nightmares, endlessly seeing her Uncle Verner killed by the Okhrana, and feeling her powers swell again with murderous fury. Over and over she dreamed of smashed corpses and the desolation she visited on the Imperial agents sent to hunt down Mistress Kamalov.

      ‘Kjellrunn. Do not tell me you are still in bed?’

      Kjellrunn groaned and squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of Mistress Kamalov’s voice. She turned over in her bunk as the door creaked open and the renegade Vigilant pushed into the room. The old woman shook Kjellrunn firmly by the shoulder.

      ‘Up! There is much to do. We have made port at last.’ Kjellrunn pulled the blankets higher, as if they might fend off the day’s problems.

      ‘Come. I know you are dressed.’ Mistress Kamalov spoke Nordspråk with a harsh Solmindre accent that left no one in any doubt where she hailed from. ‘It’s time for you to get off this ship. We will have meat and wine and conversation with someone other than pirates and children.’

      Kjellrunn rose from the bed without a word. It wasn’t wise to disobey the old woman once she’d set her mind to something.

      ‘I suppose Steiner has already gone ashore?’ Her voice was a sleepy mumble as she pulled a comb through the tangle of her blonde hair.

      ‘Of course,’ replied Mistress Kamalov as she fixed her headscarf. ‘But Kimi went first. She could barely wait for the boarding ramp to fall.’

      ‘Wouldn’t it be wiser to wait until they come back? We don’t know what we may run into.’

      ‘Wise? Yes. But ship’s biscuit and dried meat are no good for children already half-starved from Vladibogdan. We must eat! And you most of all. Like a bag of bones, you are.’

      Kjellrunn’s stomach rumbled as if on cue and she smiled with reluctance. ‘I’d just rather avoid running into the Okhrana again.’

      ‘This is good. It means you have some sense, but sense is no good if you starve to death on this stinking ship! Come on now, out of this cabin.’

      They made their way through the dark confines of the Watcher’s Wait and up creaking steps to the main deck, where the escaped novices of Vladibogdan waited. The children were pale and slender in the main and numbered around two dozen.

      ‘Never much food on Vladibogdan,’ Mistress Kamalov had explained. Steiner had been little more than sinew and scars when he’d returned. The novices’ clothes were ragged and threadbare and many had naked feet. The faraway look that so often haunted the children’s eyes during the journey had been replaced by the fervour of excitement. The cadre of children fell silent as Mistress Kamalov crossed the deck. That she had escaped the Empire and lived as a renegade Vigilant had imbued the old woman with a legendary status among the children. But none had been told about the day a dozen Okhrana came for Marek and Verner in the woods north of Cinderfell. None knew that Kjellrunn had defended her father and the old woman. Not a single novice would be able to imagine Kjellrunn’s fury, manifested in such a display of arcane power that she had almost destroyed the old woodcutter’s chalet. Kjellrunn still saw the faces of the men she had killed when she slept, swept up in a storm of her vengeance, dashed against the trees and ground until they were bloody pulp.

      ‘Come,’ said Mistress Kamalov with a clap of her hands. ‘Cease your wool-gathering. You must keep your wits about you today, yes?’

      Kjellrunn flinched and shivered. Even a passing thought of the dead Okhrana was enough to distract her.

      ‘We go to the city,’ said Mistress Kamalov to the children. ‘Stay close.’ Mistress Kamalov had never been given to ceremony or pomp and today was no different. The rag-tag band of two score children followed the elderly woman down the boarding ramp. Kjellrunn ushered the last of them off the ship and encouraged them to keep together. Such a large rabble of children attracted stares and comments from the dock workers as they went. Kjellrunn fell into step beside the old Vigilant and returned the hard stares of the locals, daring them to make trouble for her charges.

      ‘Kjellrunn. You are clenching your fists.’ The old woman directed a forced a smile at a nearby port official. ‘Try to relax, yes?’

      ‘This isn’t just a bad idea,’ said Kjellrunn under her breath as the children followed behind. ‘It’s a terrible idea.’

      ‘These children have been incarcerated for years,’ said Mistress Kamalov. ‘They have faced each day not knowing if they might live or die. Do you really think there is anything we can do to keep them on that ship?’ The old woman frowned. ‘Better we keep an eye on them if possible.’

      Kjellrunn thought of all the times she had gone to spend the afternoon in woods north of Cinderfell.

      ‘I suppose I slipped away often enough to come