The Blood Sigil (The Sigilord Chronicles Book 2) (20 page)

They turned left at the church and paddled down the thinner canal.

"We should be able to take this all the way to the Maelstrom," Owl said.

"So what's so important about the haunted island?" Ferret asked, unable to be patient.

"When we get to the inn," Therren said.

Other boats passed in either direction, fancier boats with painted hulls and bejeweled gunwales. Some sported brightly dyed canopies and others ferried richly attired passengers. Only once did they see a boat carrying cargo, oared by four men heaving against the current.

A pair of men in tall black hats and capes caught Goodwyn's attention from the shore. The two men, the religious people the locals called the scarabs, seemed engaged in a heated discussion. He heard them arguing, but couldn't hear clearly enough to know what about.

Then his vision blurred, and two translucent friars detached themselves from their solid counterparts. They shouted, pointed at Goodwyn, and ran into the church. As Goodwyn followed the future-shadows of the scarabs to the church, he was again visited by the vision of the entire city burning. Translucent flames licked at walls and crumbling buildings, while dark silhouettes circled in the sky above like vultures.

"Get us away from the church," Goodwyn said. "Now!"

Spider shoved the rudder handle toward the church while Owl and Ferret paddled furiously. The canoe spun hard, nearly knocking Goodwyn and Therren out of the boat.
 

"What's going on?" Therren asked.

"Remember when I saw the city burning?" Goodwyn said, gesturing they should duck down in hopes the men on the shore wouldn't see them. "I just saw it again."

"How could the city be burning?" Owl asked. "It's snowing!"

"There's no time to explain, but we have to get away from those scarabs on the shore." Goodwyn pointed and followed the path of his finger, risking a glance. The two men were still arguing, but this time a whole host of ghostly, maybe-friars had emerged from the church with weapons and lit torches.
 

"You!" shouted one of the real, present-tense scarabs. "You there, in the boat!"

Damn!
Goodwyn thought.
How could they have noticed us?
For a moment, he thought he even recognized the voice.

"Don't answer them," Therren ordered. "Just keep paddling and get us to the other shore."

Goodwyn looked back again, and this time he recognized the faces of the men: Urjican Friars Lloyd and Zeol, the two who had tried to stop them from entering the crime scene that morning.

"It's the scarabs from this morning," Goodwyn whispered to Therren. "What do they want with us?"

"I don't know, but if they catch us, the city's going to burn," Goodwyn replied.

"You, in the boat! Halt, devil spawn!" shouted
Brother
Lloyd.
 

"You've brought evil to this city, and we'll see you burned for it!" his fellow friar yelled.

"You didn't tell us you were on the run from the scarabs!" Owl said between deep, controlled breaths as she worked the oar.

"We didn't know!" Therren said.

It only took a few more seconds to get to the far shore, where everyone leapt out of the boat and onto the veranda of what looked to be a wealthy family's home. From there, they scurried around and clambered up to the road.

"Seize those demons!" cried a friar from across the water.

"Why do you keep saying the city's going to burn?" Owl demanded.

"We don't have time to explain," Goodwyn said. "We need to get out of here before the friars cross the canal. Do you know anywhere we can hide?"

Owl looked to Spider and Ferret. "The old gristmill?"

"You think they can make the jump?" Ferret asked.

"No time!" Goodwyn pointed to the canal. Friars spilled out onto the street and into a dozen canoes already launched from the far shore.
 

Where did they all come from so quickly?
Goodwyn wondered.

Owl took off running in the opposite direction.
 

Ferret waved for the others to follow, shouting, "Run!"

Goodwyn and the others raced after him, making short work of the network of alleys and streets that hopefully would lead them toward the gristmill, all the while avoiding the canal and the church that seemed to spew an endless supply of scarabs.

It didn't take long before Goodywn's need to escape triggered his ability.

"Stop!" he shouted.

Everyone skidded to a halt, gaping back at him with desperate, confused looks.
 

"What are you doing?" Owl demanded.

Goodwyn waved them into an alley, gesturing for them to press their backs up against the wall. It was a cold, damp wall, covered with the dead remnants of climbing vines. He shushed them, and before long they had an answer to their questions.

A two-man patrol of the Urjican friars strolled past the alley, the men chatting in something other than the kingdom's common tongue. Whatever the topic, it was interesting enough so the group avoided notice in the shadows of the alley.

"Come on." Goodwyn waved them back out into the street. Without another word, he broke into a run. He didn't have time to explain to the kids what was going on; he could only hope they would follow closely enough to keep his vision focused on what came next.

Goodwyn and his group turned a corner, and he found himself staring down a street that terminated in a crossroads, the end of which was marked by an old, decaying gristmill that had long since outlived its usefulness.

Ferret didn't wait for Goodwyn's say and dashed off down the road.
 

These damn kids are going to get us killed
, he thought, charging after the boy. Goodwyn caught up to Ferret quickly and grabbed his shoulders. He motioned for the others to follow him, then led them to a wagon parked in front of a storehouse that was half filled with sacks of grain.

They ducked behind the wagon and waited. Goodwyn knew what they were waiting for, but the others just quietly stared at him, clearly struggling against their own instincts to run for shelter as fast as they could.

A moment later another patrol hurried down the intersection just before the gristmill. Goodwyn counted off the seconds on his fingers, and after five fingers stood up and ran, this time without any hesitation, his legs and lungs aching with the effort of running in the cold, damp air.

Goodwyn arrived first and slid to a stop on the loose dusting of snow covering the stone street. Ferret leapt past him, grabbed hold of the mill's waterwheel, and scampered up through an open window above. Therren and Owl leapt up onto the wheel and turned back, waiting for Spider.

Goodwyn knew Spider wasn't going to make the jump on his own. As Spider's overworked, wide frame lumbered to the edge of the water, Goodwyn stepped into the boy's path and slipped his arm beneath Spider's armpit.
 

Levering the heavy boy on his hips, Goodwyn tossed him up and over the water. Spider sailed through the air, arms flailing. Owl and Therren each reached out and grabbed one of Spider's arms.

With Ferret helping, they heaved him up through the window and followed him in. Goodwyn took a few steps back, then ran and jumped to the wheel. He clambered up through the window just as another pair of scarabs strode by, the men oblivious to how close they had come to catching their prey.

Chapter Thirteen

"They're getting away!" Colin shouted as he burst through the door into the small closet that Cailix had been given as a bedchamber. Had it not been for Huster's connection with the captain, she would likely have been stuffed in the cargo hold, and she'd spent more than enough time in cargo holds for her liking.

Cailix bolted upright, hitting her head on a shelf. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and finally managed to look up at Colin.

"You look terrible," he said.

"Thanks."

"No, I mean, not that you look terrible. You just look tired," Colin stammered.

"It's this cough," Cailix said, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders. She felt the urge to cough, as if the mere mention of her condition irritated her throat. "Every time I get close to sleeping, I cough myself awake again. I'll be glad when we can get off this ship and onto some warm, dry land."

"It won't be warm, but land I can guarantee," said Colin.

"What do you mean? It'll be hours yet before the harbormaster even comes out for an inspection. We can't get off the ship until then."

"The two guys from the galley are about to sneak off the ship under cover of fog and snow."

"We can't let them get away. I need them to lead me to Anderis." Cailix tossed her blanket aside and slipped on a heavy hooded cloak. She'd slept in her traveling clothes in case they needed to depart in a hurry.

"Us," Colin corrected her. "They need to lead
us
to Anderis."

Cailix shrugged off the comment and made for the exit. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she had to brace herself against the door to keep from falling.
 

"The sooner we're off this ship the better," she said, blaming the spell on the motion of the ship.
 

This cold is getting worse
, she thought.
I need to get somewhere warm and get some sleep—but not until I find Anderis.

Colin led her out past the passenger cabins and up the stairs onto the main deck. The cold air slammed into her, the snow and frozen sea spray biting at her cheeks. She pulled her hood lower and tucked her hands into her armpits for warmth.

"I had hoped to be free of snow this far south of Naredis," Cailix said into the blustering white squall.

"Niragan is renowned for its harsh winters." Colin headed for the mainmast. "Nothing as bad as living at the top of the world, but they do get a lot of snow here."

They ducked behind the mainmast to watch their two targets lowering a canoe over the side of the ship into the frigid waters of the bay below. The ship sat anchored in Niragan harbor, awaiting the official blessing from the various trade officials who monitored all cargo that came and went through the city's port.

"There's a second canoe on the other side of the ship," he said. "Once they're over the gunwale we can steal that one."

"Good idea," Cailix said, unable to hide the hint of surprise in her tone.
 

"I have one from time to time," he remarked, his gaze still fixed on their prey.
 

Once their quarry had slipped over the side and were climbing a rope down to the canoe, Cailix and Colin dashed across the white-dusted deck for the other canoe. They had to get it lowered and away from the boat without alerting the captain or being spotted by the harbormaster.
 

It didn't take long to get the boat lowered since gravity did most of the work. Their only real job was to make sure it didn't hit the water hard enough to break the boat or make too much noise. Cailix fastened a rope to the gunwale and dropped it over the edge.

As she did so, the shadowy forms of two sailors appeared on the foredeck, emerging through the fog.

"Over the edge,
now
," she whispered.

Without hesitation, Colin rolled over the side of the ship and descended the rope with the skill and dexterity of a monkey dropping out of a tree. Cailix followed suit, though with considerably less poise.

They circled the canoe around the back of the ship to put enough distance between them and the lead canoe so that their pursuit would hopefully go unnoticed.

Cailix's chest tightened and it became harder to take a full breath. Eventually she started wheezing, making a little whistling noise with her throat as she struggled to breathe.

"Don't cough," whispered Colin, paddling as fast as he could without making big splashes.

"I can't breathe," she managed. The effort of whispering put her over the edge and she could no longer resist. She put her hand over her mouth, shrugged into her cloak and coughed. At first it was just a little cough, but it grew into a staccato of hacking and barking that she couldn't control.

Colin eyed her with concern. "Cailix, that sounds really bad."

"Once I get some sleep and some hot soup in me I'll be fine," she answered. "I don't think they heard me."

They made their way through the fog and snow, traversing a maze of narrow gaps between ships waiting to dock and smaller boats ferrying passengers to and from the bigger ships. Despite the terrible weather, Niragan's port bustled with activity.

By the time the shadowy outline of the piers and docks poked out through the fog, the snow had lessened to a light flurry. Within sight of the docks, massive iron walls hinged to enormous towers rose from the water. Cailix had no idea what the walls were for and felt a sense of relief as their little boat pushed beyond them.

Damn snow
, she thought to herself with chattering teeth.
Once I'm done with Anderis, I'm going someplace warm; maybe even the desert.

"There," Cailix whispered. She pointed to a pier far away from the busier docks, where a dozen small boats bobbed up and down in the waters, tethered to the wooden walkway on slick, algae- and barnacle-covered wooden posts. Dozens of people stood on the pier, moving cargo in and out of the boats. "Careful we don't lose them."