Dangerous Waters by Juliet E. McKenna

Author:Juliet E. McKenna [Unknown]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Epic, Magic, Fiction, Fantasy, Wizards, Historical, General
ISBN: 9781907519963
Publisher: Solaris
Published: 2011-07-25T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Noak’s Wine Shop, Hadrumal

14th of For-Summer

JILSETH SEARCHED THE tables crowded with pupil and apprentice mages. This idle time between afternoon and evening customarily saw Hadrumal’s wizards washing away the dust of a day’s study in the libraries or easing throats dry from debating with their elders and betters.

Before she found Tornauld and Nolyen, she saw Ely waiting by the counter. The slender mage was drumming her painted nails impatiently on the polished wood.

‘Jilseth!’ In the far corner, Nolyen stood up to make sure she’d seen him.

Avoiding gesticulating hands, Jilseth eased her way between chairs and tables.

‘Tresia blush.’ Nolyen handed her a glass frosted with condensation. Mageborn or mundane, no one in Hadrumal drank tepid wine even in the height of summer. ‘You’ll like it.’

‘Thank you.’ Jilseth didn’t doubt it.

Nolyen’s choices were always excellent, which wasn’t so surprising. No expense had been spared on his education, as befitted a Caladhrian baron’s son, until the inconvenience of his water affinity could no longer be ignored.

He waited for Jilseth to sit before resuming his own chair. While a decade in Hadrumal had taught him the folly of assuming that women were mere ornament or entertainment, such courtesies remained instinctive. Jilseth had no quarrel with that.

‘I think they’ll raid tonight.’ Tornauld looked over to include her in the conversation they were already having.

Ensaimin born, of merchant stock, he was always straight to the point, as if delay would cost him coin. Jilseth knew some found him abrasive but he was always willing to yield to anyone matching his directness, so she and he had always been friends.

‘You’re talking of the corsairs?’ She knew Nolyen was scrying towards the Caladhrian coast morning, noon and night, to keep their nexus and Planir informed. ‘But both moons are nigh on dark tonight.’

‘And tomorrow and the night after, but a dark of both moons brings a high-springing tide.’ Nolyen absently twisted peridot studs linking the cuffs of his linen shirt. While he scorned outward display of his affinity, he had an impressive collection of ornaments set with green gemstones, from the costliest to the merely gaudy. ‘They can make landfall during the day.’

Tornauld leaned forward, elbows on the table, broad shoulders hunched. ‘The heavenly compass takes a decisive turn tomorrow. They’ll want to land with the omens on their side, before the balance shifts in the mainlanders’ favour.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Jilseth looked from Tornauld to Nolyen in hopes of an explanation.

‘I’ve been talking to Velindre Ychane.’ Tornauld took a swallow of the aromatic pink wine. ‘She’s made a particular study of Aldabreshin predictions.’

‘Is she back in Hadrumal?’ Jilseth asked cautiously.

She had heard no end of rumour about the magewoman Velindre. Supposedly she’d been the lover of Cloud Mage Otrick, holder of that office before Rafrid, and no one was entirely sure how that feared and fabled wizard had met his end. Velindre was said to have left Hadrumal in a fury at being passed over by the Council, convinced she should have been Cloud Mistress. According to some, she’d helped drive dragons out of the Archipelago.

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