“This doesn’t look right,” I muttered.
I didn’t even realize I was speaking aloud. But beside me, Sammerin agreed, “It doesn’t.”
Tisaanah had joined Sammerin and I at the bow. She said nothing, but I heard the uncertainty she didn’t voice.
We were close enough now to see the port. But while the Threllian passengers were bustling with excitement, the rest of us were clustered at the front of the ship, watching nervously.
Something was not right.
We were too far away to see people at the docks as more than little smears of color, but I saw many, many gold jackets — the uniforms of the Crown Guard. The Towers, which loomed over us, seemed… darker than normal. Quieter. And while it was typical to see the Capital docks populated with dozens or even hundreds of fishing boats, now it was almost entirely occupied with sleek, polished ships.
“Those are warships,” I said.
Tisaanah gave me a glance of alarm. “Warships?” she echoed.
As if to say, Already?
I had to agree. I had been steeling myself for war. But I hadn’t thought that it would be waiting for us when we arrived.
We both looked to Nura — Nura, who almost certainly knew more than she was giving up. But even she stared at the approaching shore with hard concern drawn over her face, and a hint of confusion.
“We will not steer into that,” Tisaanah said, shaking her head. “Not with all of these people on board. I will not risk it.”
“We won’t dock in that harbor.” I lifted my chin to one of the rowboats at the side of the ship. “We’ll go down first and see what all the fuss is about. And then we can lead the ship in.”
No one disagreed. We readied the rowboat and settled inside. Our weapons were handed to us. As my hands closed around my staff and I passed Il’Sahaj to Tisaanah, our eyes met for just a moment. I knew we were thinking the same thing. It was here, with our weapons back in our grasps, that our suspended week of peace came crashing back down to earth.
We hit the water with a splash. The boat held Tisaanah, Sammerin, Nura, Eslyn, and I. Ariadnea remained on the ship, watching us with her eyeless stare as I took up the oars.
We were silent. The docks lapped closer. I peered over my shoulder to see gold-clad figures standing there, gathering as we approached. It was only once we were a few feet from the docks that I realized something was off about their uniforms. They looked similar to those of the Crown Guard, but the resemblance wasn’t perfect. There was a splash of red on their chests, a sigil that I couldn’t make out.
That wasn’t right. Crown Guard uniforms bore no house’s sigil. Not even the Queen’s.
By the time the boat slapped against the wood of the docks, I counted two dozen soldiers, and more were coming. A captain, who wore a red cape spilling over his shoulders, stood at the front, watching us. Two of the soldiers helped pull us up.
No time to appreciate the way a non-moving floor felt beneath my feet. My eyes settled on the captain, and my confusion intensified.
“Hello, Maxantarius,” he said. He gave us a tight-lipped smile. “It’s been some time. I barely believed it when I heard you were back.”
“Elias. It’s been… some time indeed.” When I had known him, he had been in his thirties and one of the finest warriors I’d ever met. I didn’t doubt that he was still just as formidable, though now, grey streaked through the temples of his brown hair and lines pinched his features.
I did not miss the way his gaze moved from me, to Tisaanah, to Sammerin, to Nura, assessing each of us how a soldier assessed a target. Nor did I miss the way his men held the hilts of their swords, the same look of anticipation lurking beneath quiet politeness.
I lifted my gaze, looking past them, to the steps to the city beyond — and bit back a curse.
The city was barricaded.
From the distance of the ship, blocked by the shape of the docks, we hadn’t been able to see it. Wooden structures clung to the steps leading from the docks to the city. Soldiers lined them. That’s why there was no activity here — these docks had been closed.
This was a trap. And by the way that Elias was looking at us, I could guess for whom it had been set.
Elias gave Nura a nod. “Nura. Always a pleasure.”
“Can you explain why you’re cornering us?” Nura replied, coldly.
He chuckled, as if he was not at all surprised by this response.
“It’s not my intention to corner you. And I’d happily explain why we’re here if you would drop your weapons.”
His gaze fell to Tisaanah, examining her with a sort of curiosity that made my knuckles tighten around my staff.
“I’d rather reverse the order of that plan,” I said.
“There’s no need for this to get ugly.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eslyn’s spear raise, her body shifting like a cat about to pounce on a canary. “We are soldiers of the Queen of Ara,” she said. “You are committing treason by raising your weapons against us. Let us pass.”
Elias’s brow knitted, briefly perplexed. “You are soldiers of Zeryth Aldris,” he said. “Traitor to the rightful king of Ara, Atrick Aviness. And of course, we cannot allow that to stand. Your association with Aldris makes you traitors to Ara, and to the throne. Drop your weapons.”
What?
None of us moved, our confusion palpable.
Atrick Aviness? Aviness was Sesri’s uncle, her father’s brother-in-law. And what would Zeryth have to do with any of this?
“Zeryth?” I repeated.
“King?” Tisaanah said. “We are only—”
If I was being optimistic, perhaps there was a chance, in this moment, where
