Breakwater

A knock came at the door and we turned. I stepped back, allowing Belladonna to take the lead.

“Enter,” she called out, sounding every inch the princess she was. Barefoot and wearing material meant to demean her, she swayed forward as the door opened. A tall gangly boy who couldn’t have been out of his teen years, and looked to be a younger version of Dolph, goggled at her.

“Spit it out, boy.” She snapped her fingers and I fought not to smile. Maybe Father was right to have sent her after all. Then I remembered he might be trying to bump us both off. I had no way of telling Ash how poor things were going.

“The dinner is ready.” He gave her a bow, which also gave him a chance to check out her bare legs. I reached out and put a hand on Bella’s shoulder.

“We need to send a message to your father.”

She frowned at me. “Boy, how do we do that?”

He swallowed hard. “You could send a seabird. Would you like me to get you one?”

“Yes, immediately.” Belladonna snapped her fingers at him a second time.

He backed out, closing the doors behind him.

“That was good thinking, Lark.”

The boy, Urchin by his stuttering introduction the second time around, didn’t take long. He thrust a piece of paper at us, a seagull tucked under his wing. “He’ll take the message right to the Rim.”

Belladonna took a piece of paper and I all but snatched it from her. “I need something to write with.” She frowned at me, but blessedly didn’t argue.

We searched the room; there wasn’t a single pencil or quill. I should get into the habit of always carrying a bag with the bare necessities. Parchment, a quill, small things that could be useful even if my weapons were taken away.

“Here,” Belladonna handed me a hunk of kohl we’d used around her eyes that was smooth on one end. “This should work.”

I took it and smoothed the paper against the wall. There had to be a way to say things were going wrong. That we were in trouble. The message would go through Ash first; at least, that was what I was counting on. If Father truly was against us, he would ignore the message, but Ash said he would come for us. And I was banking on that. No matter how badly I wanted to prove myself capable of taking care of Belladonna and this assignment, we were in over our heads.

Our boat is sideways and taking on water.

The words were thick and dark, the lines scratched in with more than a little aggression. I folded the paper and slipped it into the carrier on the seagull’s leg. The gull gave a squawk as I took it from Urchin and strode to our balcony. Flinging the windows open, I tossed the gull high into the air. It flapped its wings, settled into the air currents and flew to the west. At least it was going the right way.

Belladonna raised one eyebrow at me. I stared at her, keeping my face carefully blank. “Princess, I do believe they are waiting for you.”

A tip of her head at me, she clapped her hands together sharply. “Boy, we’re ready.”

The doors creaked open and the boy stuck his head in, color rising in his cheeks. “I said my name is Urchin, and I am an Ender in training.”

“Fine, fine.” Belladonna waved a hand at him. “Take us to dinner, I’m starving.”

Another awkward bow from Urchin as a glower shimmered over his face, and then he led the way through the long halls. They stretched in seemingly endless lengths, the ceilings so far above our heads I could barely make them out.

The palace was built with soft pastels, pinks, blues, creamy whites, and yellows. Like a dream, gauzy and surreal. I drew in a deep breath through my mouth, tasting salt and the night air cool against my tongue. Tiny orbs of water filled with weird fish that glowed were strung along the pathways, seemingly flickering in the ocean breeze. Their light dimmed suddenly with a particular hard snap of wind; an impossibility, yet there it was. Shadows and light danced across our path and the fish globes struggled to stay lit, and I knew the moment for what it was.

An omen of things to come.

Urchin cleared his throat, his long fingers tapping against his thighs. He stopped at a large doorway, stepping in front of us. “My father wanted me to give you this. But asked that you burn it after you read it.”

Belladonna took the note, read it, and handed it to me. “Does it mean anything to you?”

I skimmed the note, frowning as I read.

Let nothing pass the gates to your home, for you will not see the dawn if you do.

Lifting the note, I held it to one of the candles. The paper caught quickly and burned down to my fingers. I flipped the remaining ashes to the ground. “No, but that doesn’t mean we won’t understand it when the time comes.” At least that was what I was hoping.

Urchin nodded, pushed the doors open. Made of sandstone and engraved with scenes of battle, I only caught a glimpse of the images—tentacles reaching from the depths of the ocean—before my eyes were drawn forward.

Though the room was fairly well decorated, my eyes could only see one thing—a single table a hundred feet long stretched the length of the room and laden with food and drink. The smell was overwhelming, and my stomach growled, urging me forward.

Belladonna put her hands to her stomach. “Do not let me make a pig of myself, Lark. I fear I will if allowed free rein.”

I fought the grin that wanted to spread across my face. “I might let you, just so I can say that I saw you stuff your face.”

Her shoulders shook with repressed laughter, something I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen. I knew why, though. We were giddy with hunger and thirst, our bodies making us fools.