Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(32)

“You spoke to them?” There was an edge to the trader’s voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Yes,” Kadar said. “The wetlanders were offering a reward for information about a man matching Rocheford’s description.”

The trader went very still, his expression invisible within the shadow of the hood. “Then what happened?”

Why so much interest in a story that was over?

“He agreed to go back with them for good. Before he left, he sold the wharf and the ship to me.” He paused. “Don’t worry—he won’t be coming back.”

“I see,” the trader said. “What are your plans?”

“I own a coastal trader, the New Moon,” Kadar said. “Once you’ve dredged out the passage, I intend to travel north, buying up property elsewhere.”

“Why would you assume that I’ll open the passage?” the trader said.

“You own this port now,” Kadar said, with a smug smile, figuring it was safe to show his hand now that the deals were done. “If you can’t figure out a way to keep the straits open, you’ll lose everything.”

“That’s true,” the trader admitted. He stood. “We’re finished here, I think.”

The man’s calm unnerved Kadar. Was there something he’d overlooked?

No. Couldn’t be. He’d made the best deal possible given the circumstances. He was lucky to get out now.

Two days later, another storm blew in. This one drove high seas through the straits, then ended in a riptide that cleared the harbor mouth of the silt and sand that had made it impassable. One by one, the ships still trapped in the harbor set sail for the open sea. Before they left, the man who called himself “the Stormcaster” met with each of the ship’s masters, informing them that he was the new harbormaster and guaranteeing them a deep, clear channel, reasonable dockage fees, and a willing dockside crew.

He also met with the idled longshoremen who had not yet departed for more prosperous ports. He persuaded them to stay with promises of future work and a small retainer in the meantime.

Omari Kadar watched all this with dismay, and the growing conviction that he’d been had.

But that was impossible. How could the trader have known that the blockage would clear?

Unless he’d had a hand in it. Could it be that “stormcaster” was more than a brag and a pirate title? Should Kadar have seen this coming?

In the past, the Carthian stormlords had ruled the seas along the Desert Coast. Literally. But the last stormlord had been ineffective, to say the least, the proof being that the empress had killed him and taken his ship.

Kadar resolved to ask questions as he traveled from harbor to harbor. Maybe someone had heard of this stormcaster before.

He’d hoped to confront the owner of Blue Water Trading before he sailed, but men who’d until recently worked for him now guarded the stormcaster’s holdings and the stormcaster’s time.

On the day of sailing, Kadar stowed his belongings and strongboxes in the hold of the New Moon. The waterfront seethed with activity. Two more ships were moored in the harbor and another at the dock. Longshoremen were unloading cargo and stowing it in the warehouses that had once belonged to him. With deep bitterness, Kadar cast off and threaded his little smuggler through the near-shore moorings. When he’d emerged from the crowd, he raised the jib and made for the straits.

As he neared the Guardians, he could see someone standing atop one of them, high above the water, arms folded, the wind ripping at his cloak. Kadar recognized him as the stormcaster. Was he up there gloating as the New Moon sailed by? Or was he using some kind of magery to keep the passage open?

As the New Moon entered the straits, the stormlord’s hood fell back and sunlight glinted on his fair hair. Kadar blinked, looked again, squinting against the sunlight reflecting from stone.

It was Lucky Faris, very much alive, looking down at him. As their eyes met, Faris waved farewell. He wasn’t smiling. In fact, his expression could have been described as ruthless.

New Moon bucked, quivering under Kadar’s feet, forcing his attention forward. Ahead, the air rippled and swam as energy crackled between the Guardians. The sea churned as if some giant beast circled just beneath the surface. Kadar gripped the rail to keep from being pitched into the sea. New Moon was spinning, spinning as the water rose all around, pouring over the gunwales, sucking the ship down. Kadar spat out salt water and cursed the gods of sea and storm as he and his ship plunged beneath the surface.





14


BASTON BAY


It had been two years since Evan lost Destin Karn, gained his first ship, and won control of the port of Tarvos. Two years during which he’d been in constant motion, building his fleet and his Stormborn crew in the ports along the Desert Coast and taking them across the Indio to the hunting grounds in the wetlands.

He couldn’t afford to dawdle. As soon as Celestine realized who the new stormlord was, she’d hounded him mercilessly at sea until the loss of three ships forced her to respect his growing power. After that, she came at him mostly through trickery, bribery, and subterfuge.

Most of his crew members came from among the empress’s bloodsworn. He’d taken Cloud Spirit back from Celestine a year ago, when he’d spotted her off Gryphon Point with a full hold and a light crew, including his former shipmates Brody Baines, Abhayi Arya, and Teza Von. Evan had hoped to find Tully aboard, but his luck didn’t extend that far.