Vanity Affair by Mac Flynn

Author:Mac Flynn [Flynn, Mac]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crescent Moon Studios, Inc.

16

I caught up to Asher a few yards outside Galen's office. He stood facing the wide bay with its calm waters. I joined him at his side and folded my arms behind my back as I studied both beautiful views.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, regretting breaking the moment. "I didn't mean to yell at you."

He didn't look at me as he shook his head. "It's okay. I know you're only worried about Lady Ida."

I followed his gaze to the docks that stretched out into the gently lapping waters. "It's a nice city, isn't it?" He nodded. I drew my hand over his and gave it a squeeze. "This goes without saying, but I'm coming with you."

Asher looked down at me and smiled. "I'm glad you're here."

I felt my cheeks redden, so I shook my cloudy thoughts and strode forward, pulling him along with me. "Come on! These mysteries aren't going to solve themselves!"

Asher stumbled along behind me for a few feet before he found his bearing and caught up to me. He pulled ahead and turned us down a side street with a sly smile on his lips. "I think I'll lead the way."

"How hard can it be to go downhill?" I teased in return.

He nodded at the road we just left. "That hard."

I glimpsed an alley with a tall fence that signaled a dead end to the route I had chosen. I sheepishly smiled at him. "I knew that."

His eyes twinkled as he led me down the gentle slope of homes and businesses. As we drew closer to the lapping waters the houses changed. Wood replaced stone and the salty flavor of the sea permeated everything. Many of the homes were little more than large shacks built out of timbers designed for ships. Crates and nets popped up about the narrow, meandering alleys, and dogs tied to thick, knotted ropes with sailor's knots barked as we passed.

"How many people work on the docks?" I asked my quiet guide.

Asher swept his soft eyes of the tottering hovels and shacks and sighed. "Nearly all, if you include those who feed the workers. The port has been the lifeblood of the city since it's founding, and as the old saying goes: the more times change, the more they remain the same."

I smiled. "My home has a saying like that, too."

"The ground on which we tread has a history with the port, as well," he revealed as we walked over a hump in the dirty road. "The bay's been dredged more times than anyone can count, and the dirt was placed atop large boulders that dotted the coastline."

"Like the rocks on the island?" I guessed.

He nodded. "Yes, but much larger. They were said to have towered over many of the three-mast sailing vessels, or so Doc's history books told me. The dirt also extended the docks and raised the steep slope to the gentle one on which we now walk."

"I wish I could have seen that," I mused as we walked ever closer to the docks.

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