Much like our offerings to the gods of nature, it doesn't hurt to leave out snacks for the constables at night. The gods keep us safe. The constables do their best. Do us all a favour and feed our protectors well. The bigger they are, the slower they run.

  – Thane Criggs, famous for breaking out of jail twenty times.

  The view from the airship was astounding—rolling hills, mountains, forests, and the wide Gantleford river. Of course, the centrepiece of it all was Soroughes. It wasn't the largest or even the most memorable of cities, but it was a bustling one nonetheless. An airship hub, a harbour, and most of all Freyan herbal bread, as well as hornberry cider.

  Vaera was jumping from foot to foot, imagining all the foods she remembered from her childhood visits to Freyland. Of course, this far south, they wouldn't have the same delicacies Meredith Lloyd's mansion served.

  "Let me remind you that we are not on vacation," Aron rudely interrupted her musings, his hand falling on her shoulder to keep her from potentially jumping out the airship right then to get to the city faster.

  Vaera sighed and pulled a face. "I know… But anyone travelling from Reikha would take weeks to get here unless they came by airship like us. Do you really believe anyone who could recognize us would be here? We chose this route specifically because we know no one in this city, and our airship wasn't scheduled to land here, not even Trista knows we came this way."

  Running his hand through his hair, Aron closed his eyes. "That may be so. But a high priority semaphore—"

  "Oh please," Vaera rolled her eyes, shrugging off Aron's hand. "As if Kara paid that much for a high priority semaphore to all minor cities in Freyland." She laughed at the absurdity of it all. Even the crown would balk at that kind of frivolous expense.

  Freyland was huge, how many cities would they have to contact? Vaera pondered, her eyes staring off into the distance. Assuming they had loyal contacts in each of the cities and could get horse riders out to spread the word to the other cities, if she had to do it, she'd contact Midencere, Chilbomyard, Llyn, Wamerfield, Porton, Miford, Caelfall… and that's still a net with many holes. Seven cities, at the current rates, that would be around three thousand Reikhan crowns. Doable, but it would be high risk, low reward.

  Chilbomyard was so far to the east from them, she couldn't even see it from the airship. Someone would have to ride all that way to Soroughes to warn them of their approach. And that's assuming they knew their destination.

  Vaera folded her arms, her gaze dropping to the forest below. "Impossible. I could see her sending a message to Wamerfield. It has the highest chance of success. But other than that, she'd need to know where we're going to target us specifically." She turned around to smile at Aron. Surely, the man didn't need her to tell him this.

  Aron's eyes narrowed and he nodded quickly. "I suppose. But you pay me to worry about these sorts of things, so forgive me for doing so."

  She laughed at his dry response, turning to face the approaching city below them once more. "Oh I know. It's good that you do. But let's also not forget that we are people. We can't be stressed constantly. Let me treat you to hornberry cider tonight."

  "Lloyd's smugglers will assign to us two bodyguards," Aron retorted, a small grin forming on his lips as he glances at Vaera. "Are you sure, you wish to treat all of us to cider? You know, how much mercenaries can drink."

  Vaera recoiled, wincing at the thought. "Maybe we'll stick to the cheaper stuff," she conceded, rubbing her wrist shamefully.

  "Gavin Porter and Sean Thumbley, at your service."

  The two men tipped their hats, their entire appearances screaming professionalism. The beastfolk man, Sean, was the typical intimidating hired muscle you'd expect. Gavin, standing at an entire meter shorter, was a typical pureblood human, not unlike Aron in both age and stature.

  Vaera nodded in greeting, her face almost entirely hidden by the wide hat and knitted scarf. To anyone else, she would've looked like a typical Freyan woman. Or at least she hoped so.

  "Aye, good to make your acquaintance," Aron replied with a wide smile, his formal tone replaced by a conversational slang that fit the area. Not for the first time Vaera was impressed by his ability to adapt to these kinds of situations.

  She subconsciously took another step behind him, studying the cobbled street instead of looking at the two bodyguards.

  "Mister and Miss Hyuan, yes?" Gavin asked with a grin. "Came up here from Jinguk, eh?"

  It was a necessary cover story. Merchants from Jinguk, who frequently travelled between Freyland and the south—a passable tale. Their mastery of Freyan was explainable considering how frequently they'd supposedly visited.

  "My sister's moved there a few years back," Gavin continued, his hands raised, as if he had just let them in on a secret.

  Vaera froze in place. He had family there? Would he recognize them as fakes? Even if he did, at worst they'd be suspicious individuals. She grabbed her wrist, holding it steady.

  Aron threw his head back, laughing warmly. "Well, she made a good choice. By any luck, she's celebrating the Gol-deudeog festival as we speak." Shaking his head wistfully, Aron took a step in front of Vaera, hiding her further from view. "Ah, I wish I could be home, tasting some Gimbap right now… But as we say, money flows downstream, so here we are."

  The bodyguard smiled wider, resting his hand on his hip as he elbowed his colleague. "True enough. The woman has become fat from all the festivals. She ain't made for holding back, you see." The other man chuckled good-naturedly and Aron joined in.

  With the introductions and banter out of the way, Vaera fell into step behind Aron as he led her through the busy market streets, the bodyguards flanking them protectively and speaking with Aron. Vaera felt like a little girl again, following her father to important meetings and having nothing to say, hiding in the shadows, or playing in the gardens.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  She thought back to her visits to Coldtide, playing in Meredith Lloyd's personal forest and finding the best hiding places and an eerie looking cave even. Those days had been filled with adventure, good food, comforts, and safety.

  Lately, she'd just been stressing out over how to appear before emissaries, preparing public speeches, writing formal letters.

  She sighed and looked around at the street. Structurally it wasn't too different from a Reikhan street, but the general vibe was anything but. Merchants loudly yelled out their offers, sellers pushed into the personal space of their marks, hoping to entice them into buying anything really. To a Reikhan used to structured and organized proceedings even in street markets it was chaos. But it was also interesting due to its novelty. Her father hadn't taken her into many cities. Usually they had visited remote manors and villas.

  Vaera watched the fairy carrying a shopping bag and effortlessly navigating through the mass of much larger creatures with fascination. Turning back to look up at Aron, she smiled to herself, her steps growing lighter.

  "Seriously?" Vaera threw her hands over her head, lying back in bed. The frustration in her voice was evident and Aron didn't even bother looking her way.

  "Like I said, we have to keep a low profile. Our ship leaves in two days." He crossed out an item on the list he'd been studying for the past half an hour.

  Vaera pulled a pillow onto her face and groaned. "We've been stuck in a tiny airship for days, we're about to be stuck on a ship for weeks and now that we're here, we can't even go for a walk?"

  Aron turned to face her, looking at her with concern, empathy, and exhaustion.

  She pulled down the pillow and hugged it against her chest. "I understand the need for secrecy," she admitted weakly, "I'm just frustrated."

  "I know," Aron conceded, lining up the papers and locking them into his lockbox. "I admit, a walk probably won't hurt, especially with Gavin and Sean around." He got up to grab his gloves and scarf. Winking conspiratorially at Vaera, he continues, "They told me all about that harbourside bar they frequent…"

  Vaera jumped up, grabbing her own clothes from the rack. "Of course… I knew, you weren't going to do this out of the goodness of your heart." After pulling on her coat, she pushed her hands in her pockets, hiding her face in her scarf. "But thank you."

  "…you don't understand it. He's a detective, but he's unconventional. The king hates him, but he still prevails." Vaera gestured wildly, explaining the story of Kristian Hill—the master detective.

  Aron chuckled, looking out onto the black river. The sun had already set, and the street was empty and dark. Even in their warm overcoats, the cold stung, but Vaera gave it no mind.

  When Aron turned his face to look away, a contemplative but jovial expression on his face, she smiled wider. This was it—her plan to get Aron out of his shell was working. Maybe for once, even if just for a little while, he wouldn't be thinking about work or his debt to her father.

  She turned, noticing Gavin coming up behind them. As she was about to address the man with a light-hearted question, she noticed his expression. Before she realized what was happening, Aron had grabbed her and thrown her away, just as Sean crashed into the place Vaera had previously been.

  "What?" Vaera asked dumbfoundedly, looking from Aron to Sean and Gavin as time seemed to slow.

  It didn't make sense, Sean was tumbling on the ground, falling over Aron's outstretched leg, grasping at the air, as if he'd missed a catch in a game of pitball.

  Aron's face twisted in pain, his back arching as Gavin pulled back a dirty knife, yelling insults directed at her friend and protector.

  Instinct and Aron's training kicked in, and before her mind had caught up, Vaera was already off the edge of the mole. She saw Gavin throwing Aron over the edge and down into the dark river beneath. Both of the bodyguards scrambled to catch up to Vaera, but she had already dived beneath the cold surface.

  Gasping for air, she clutched her amulet tightly, relieved that it had activated immediately. Instead of the cold water, the amulet filled her mouth and nose with air. As she swam deeper, she briefly looked around, but she couldn't see another splash or any sign of Aron. "Damn it all!"

  "Never stop moving. Large movements. Keep going." She remembered the instructions clearly. She'd performed dives like this before, she could do it again. "You haven't done it in freezing water before," her brain reminded her mercilessly. "Shut up."

  When she hadn't been pulled out of the river for what seemed like an eternity but couldn't have been more than 2 minutes, she dared to glance back again. Nothing. It was black. Did they think she was dead? Where was Aron?

  She decided to swim back to the surface, just to keep her body moving and her mind distracted. Back in the cold night time air, the city seemed peaceful. Oil lamps and magitech lamps alike dotted the streets. And the mole… there was movement there. Sean and Gavin. They'd be looking for her.

  Vaera continued swimming in a half circle around the harbour. Her limbs started feeling heavier with each stroke, but she couldn't go back. This wasn't a mugging or a random stabbing. They were after her. They were after the former queen of Reikha. And they'd find her. Were the smugglers in on it? They were the ones who had assigned the bodyguards to them. Was Meredith in on it? How else would they have known she was here?

  Vaera shivered, though from the cold or the implications she didn't know.

  "Aron…" she whispered, her breath ghosting in the air. If Meredith was behind this, what would happen to Trista once she got there? Trista had no idea. She might be heading into a trap. Meredith might use her friend to draw her out.

  When she reached the other side of the dock, she climbed up the ladder, collapsing behind a crate of cargo and panting heavily.

  Coldtide. She'd have to get there. To stop Trista. If she stayed here, she'd be found. But they wouldn't search for her in Coldtide. And besides… perhaps Meredith wasn't the one behind this.

  She poked her head over the edge of the crate, surveying the area. It was empty, she was safe for now. And the crates waiting to be loaded onto the nearby ships were an opportunity. Manifests and labels might lead her to a ship that was bound for Coldtide. Any vessel would do.

  With a plan in mind, she made her way from crate to crate. When she finally found a crate bound for Coldtide, a constable appeared, checking for any trespassers. She made herself smaller and hid between two crates, slowing her breathing. The light came closer, passed over the crate, and retreated. She held her breath and counted the moments before the constable would return on his route.

  When he passed for a second time, she finally exhaled in relief. But as she stepped out from behind the crates to board the ship, the gruff beastfolk constable grinned at her knowingly.

  "A thief, hm?" His bear-like head bobbed as he inspected her. "No, more like a stowaway." He sniffed as he took in her soaked clothes and panicked demeanour.

  "I-I…" Vaera stammered. She wished Aron was here.

  "Whoa, hey, why are you crying?" The constable looked on with concern as Vaera broke down crying in front of him. He scratched the back of his head, cracking his neck.

  "Someone just murdered my friend!" Vaera blurted out. It was the truth. This was a constable, he'd help, right? She shouldn't have to hide from him. "We were walking along the mole, and our guards, Gavin Porter and Sean Thom…Thumbley?" Vaera struggled, trying to recall the stoic beastfolk's name. "They stabbed my friend!"

  The constable gulped, looking more and more terrified. His gaze followed where she was pointing and he nodded. "We'll check it out," he promised her, before calling over to a colleague.

  As he was busy relaying the information, Vaera, sneaked away onto the ship. She heard him calling out and looking for her a bit later, but she was already finding a dark corner in the cargo hold, where no one would look for her.

  "I'll save Trista," she promised herself and Aron, clutching the amulet tightly. "I'll save one."