Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(66)

A COMMON CAUSE


When Evan returned to the suite of rooms he shared with his crew, they were boiling with curiosity about the interrogation. Evan kept them in suspense while he retrieved his burner and kettle from the corner, put water on to heat, and set out the tiny cups for the tay ceremony. He knew they would need fortification against this news. Those reborn in blood never lost their desire for it.

When the water was steaming, they watched in avid silence as Evan added the smoky leaves to the brew. While they steeped, he stripped back his sleeve, found a spot on his scarred forearm, and sliced it open, dripping his blood into the common pot.

Evan served each crew member himself. It was the least he could do for people cursed with a thirst that would never be quenched.

When all had been served, Evan slumped into a chair, stirred the fire with a stick, and said, “They know.”

They all looked at one another, as if each hoped that somebody else would ask a question.

“They know . . . what?” Brody said finally.

“They know about the magemark,” Evan said. This was met with a collective groan. Secrets like that didn’t keep. There was no stronghold, no prison strong enough to keep them safe, once Celestine knew where he was. It was all Evan could do to stay in his seat and not stand and begin pacing, which would not help the mood in the room.

“What are we going to do?” Teza said.

“I’m not sure it much matters what we do,” Evan said.

“Do you think they will sell you to the empress?” Brody said. “Or trade you to get their port back?” That was Brody—always the cheerful one.

“I don’t really have control of this story going forward,” Evan said. “A lot depends on the healer.”

“The healer?” Jorani scowled. “He hates you, doesn’t he?”

“Maybe,” Evan said. “I think I’m beginning to win him over, though. If I can stay alive another year or two, we might be friends.”

“Let’s go find the healer and make him be your friend,” Jorani said.

Right, Evan thought. That could go wrong in oh, so many ways.

This pessimistic thought was interrupted by voices outside the door, as if the guards outside were arguing with someone. Finally, the door banged open, revealing the surly healer prince, Adrian sul’Han.

The bluejackets guarding the door admitted him, then pulled the door shut behind him. Instantly, Teza, Jorani, Brody, and the others fanned out, forming a wall in front of Evan.

Evan pushed his way to the front of his crew, waving them off. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m sure this is a friendly visit.” Turning to the healer, he said, “Good evening. To what do I owe this unexpected—”

“We need to talk,” sul’Han said, displaying his usual charm.

“I agree,” Evan said. “But what’s it been, two hours, since we last spoke? Do you have those notes with you? It might save some time.”

“I’d rather start fresh, and speak frankly. There’s too much at stake to waste time sparring with you.” The healer was as serious as death.

Evan folded his arms and broadened his stance. “Will you speak frankly as well?”

“Of course,” the healer said, as if that point was never in question. He ran his eyes over the hovering Stormborn. “I’d prefer to meet privately.”

This brought protests from Evan’s crew.

“The healer doesn’t mean me any harm,” Evan said. “Else he wouldn’t have come alone.”

This spawned another chorus of objections.

Evan lifted the pot from the burner and handed it off to Teza. “Go. And take this with you.”

They were still grumbling when they went out the door. With the tay.

“Your crew seems . . . unusually loyal,” the wolf prince said, staring after them in a way that suggested that he really meant “fanatical,” “obsessive,” or “paranoid.”

“The empress has put a sizable price on my head, and there are always those who would like to cash in. The only way I’ve been able to keep a crew that won’t betray me is through a blood bond. There’s a price to be paid for that.” Evan gathered pillows from the furniture and tossed them down, onto the rug. “Let’s sit, shall we, and have a civilized conversation. I’ve not much to offer in the way of refreshments, but I could brew up a fresh pot of tay. It’s a beverage popular in Carthis for bringing people—”

“No,” the healer said. Then added, “Thank you.”

Evan shrugged and sat down on one of the pillows. After a moment’s hesitation, the healer sat, his hands resting on his knees, the lamps behind him sending his long shadow across the floor.

“Now, then,” Evan said, figuring that he would get a question in first if he could. “I’m curious. What tipped you off to the magemark?”

“Your resistance to direct magic,” sul’Han said. “I had the same kind of sensation when I questioned Jenna.” He paused. “So, what can you tell me about magemarks?”

“Disappointingly little, I’m afraid,” Evan said. “For five years now, I’ve been looking for someone who can explain it to me. Someone besides the empress, I mean, who no doubt would be happy to fill me in.”