Acceptance by mail was risky, she said. Clothing choices could hardly be used as evidence in court.
Upon acceptance, detailed instructions would be placed within the wrapping of a fish she purchased.
Then, it was up to her to deliver.
“And what are the other assassin groups?” Melda asked. “What are their principles?”
Violet pursed her lips. “We’re each named after a shade of red. There’s Crimson, of course. Then Garnet, Ruby, Scarlet, and Vermillion.” Violet frowned. “Let’s just say, the only thing we have in common with the others is the killing. Our methods, reasons, and morals…differ greatly.”
Captain Forecastle nearly choked on the ale Violet had found him. “That’s one way to say it,” he said, sputtering drink as he laughed.
Violet suddenly turned to Vesper and tilted her head. “What is it?” she asked.
Vesper only blinked.
“I’ve been trained to study body language very carefully. You have a question. Ask it.”
Vesper pressed her lips together. She looked unwilling to speak, and moments ticked by. But Violet was patient, waiting until she said, “Your emblem. It has nothing to do with killing. How did you end up an assassin? How was it even an option for you?”
Violet sat back. “Ah.” She pursed her lips. “I hate fate and destiny and everything predetermined. My emblem isn’t the best for an assassin, but I made it work for me. I evolved.” She shrugged. “Any emblem’s use can be reimagined for nearly any role. What’s yours?”
“I’m a magnificate,” she said. And Tor was surprised she didn’t say waterbreather.
Violet snapped. “Fantastic! Much of my job is about disguising myself and certain objects I don’t want discovered.” She thrummed her fingers on the table, her nails painted deep red. “If I had your ability, I would not just do the obvious, which would be disguising things by making them very small. No, I would hide them in plain sight. Make them so unusually large, make them look like something else entirely, that no one would think to look twice.” She blew air roughly through her mouth, thinking. “And if I was in a fight, I wouldn’t do what they might anticipate, which would be to make myself small or large. I would change my enemies’ size. Because they wouldn’t be expecting it.” Violet shrugged. “You see, in my line of work, there are some that can shield against an emblem’s power and others who can sense things that one is trying to hide, so the element of surprise is invaluable.”
“How about my emblem?” Engle asked enthusiastically. “What would I do if I was an assassin?”
Violet glanced at the spyglass on his skin and shrugged. “You’d be the lookout. Nothing surprising about that, I’m afraid.”
After their plates were empty, Violet offered them a place to stay for the night. “I have plenty of rooms,” she said. “And a penchant for guests.”
Though Tor wanted to, they couldn’t. Melda produced the small arenahora from her pocket. “We have a long way to go and not much time,” she said.
“I see. Another time, perhaps.” Violet peeked through a sliver of exposed window. “I don’t see them anymore, but who knows what’s lurking out there. I’ll take you through the back way.”
Violet led them down to the bottom level of the town house. It looked like an ordinary bedroom until she slid over the bed, revealing a hatch.
“These tunnels run all through the city,” she said, opening it. “And are only accessible by a select few.” She whistled, and her lark flew into the room. “She’ll show you the way,” she said. “If I can ever be of help to you, just say my name to the nearest bird. Word will get to me.”
Tor thanked her, and climbed in first. The tunnel was made of stone and was small enough that Captain Forecastle would surely have to hunch over. Melda, last to say goodbye, jumped as the bird sped past her, down the corridor. It led them like a guiding star, beneath the many dangers—and wonders—of Perla. Already close to the docks, it took just a few minutes before the lark showed them to a door that emptied out in a quiet corner at the base of the harbor. Engle went first, to make sure the coast was clear. The bird chirped a last goodbye, and Tor watched it fly back down the tunnel.
Then, on swift wind, they finally left the City of Seekers.
The Young Princess
There once was a princess who lived in a castle on the coast. The young royal spent hours in one of the castle’s towers, eyes fixed on the water. She stared so long at the sea that the sea began to stare back.
Come closer, child, it said.
So one night, she snuck out of bed. She creeped past guards and down to the sand, which had always been forbidden.
Three heads bobbed within the waves, and the princess knew them to be mermaids.
It was rumored that long ago, one of her ancestors, a king, had lured a siren from the sea and made her his queen.
The call of the ocean had been passed on to the princess, and she took a step into the water, unable to resist.
Come closer, the sea said, and the mermaids smiled.
With each step into the water, the princess found herself changing. She yelled out as her legs turned glittering blue—screamed as they began to come together.
By the time the mermaids reached her, she could not run away, she had no legs to run with. Only a tail.
And so the sea took back what had been stolen from it long ago, evening the scales.
14
The Silver Scale
Captain Forecastle kicked his feet up onto a barrel on the deck as if he had never left.
“I suppose he did save our lives,” Engle said, shrugging. “If he wants to help, we should let him.”
The pirate was the least of his worries. Melda’s
