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Chapter 19

Tristan had never been the sort to find mindless labor soothing. He had seen too many people break their bodies stacking stones and scraping canals to believe there was anything noble about work, no matter the talk about the dignity in sweating for one’s wage.

Horses were patted and fed carrots, but when they got old they were still made...

Chapter 18

Song was the first back to the cottage.

She came in, wiped her boots and hung her cloak. Her musket was placed against the wall – until a proper weapons rack could be acquired – and she put away her powder in a bag she had hung from the wall for that very purpose. The sword belt joined the cloak as the last step, but for onc...

Chapter 17

Musa Shange and his three were the first down.

Angharad would give him this: the man might be arrogant, but he was no coward. It was but moments after he disappeared down the stairs that the jockeying began, not for seats but for alliances. Now that it seemed certain all of them would journey down into the Acallar to fight everyone wanted ...

Chapter Delay

Due to some troubles on my end Chapter 17 will be posted tomorrow, most likely early in the afternoon EST. Sorry for the delay!

E.E.

Chapter 16

The legwork took around an hour and a half.

Some of it was hitting pavement and casing the place without looking suspicious, but the real sweat came when Tristan had to consider how it would all go wrong. Half the time spent rustling up a scheme, Abuela had taught him, should be considering how to get out when it turned on you. Unfortunate...

Chapter 15

The Chimerical was open, not that Tristan had ever seen it close. Did devils even sleep?

“Oh, this place again,” Fortuna enthused. “I just love that hanging crocodile, you should see if it’s for sale.”

He would not, in fact, be doing this. Tristan snuck a look sideways at the goddess, who was traipsing around in her red dre...

Chapter 14

Angharad sat on a bench to eat alone with her thoughts, which was no mercy.

Half her cabal was long gone, and the last member... Much as the noblewoman disliked sitting there brooding and biting at the tail of her own thoughts, to share a meal with Song after their previous conversation might have been worse. That her own captain had belie...

Chapter 13

They looked like ghostly vines, faint curls of smoke that were reaching hungry hands.

Song could see them creeping across the checkered, cracked floor of the entrance hall. The god was everywhere, blind hands tugging and pulling at the insides of Scholomance like a child at play – moving this and that, just itching to smash it all onto s...

Chapter 12

Angharad woke to the smell of breakfast.

Tossing aside her sheets – where Tristan and Maryam had found such a profoundly ugly shade of brown, she had no idea – she pushed herself up. Though she had slept in a bedroll laid on the ground, it had been a decent enough night’s sleep. The Pereduri still looked forward to securing a proper ...

Chapter 11

“The pork?”

“Nine coppers a pound,” Abrascal replied as he slid onto the bench.

The tip of Song’s reed pen scratched against the paper, adding the latest price to the list. Poultry seemed marginally less expensive than pork, but the costs were more or less the same across the board. Frowning down at her work, an orderly clu...

Chapter 10

It was a half-hour walk, most of it following the road to Scholomance.

Angharad had paid little attention to the path once they left the paved avenue, busy quietly seething at the fact they had beenrobbed. Sebastian Camaron had not lied. When they’d returned to their room at the Rainsparrow Hostel they found it just as empty as ...

Chapter 9

When Song suggested they go to the Emerald Vaults for breakfast and conversation, it was not really a suggestion.

She had that look on her face, the one Maryam had learned meant the decision was already made and arguing was at your peril. Not that any of them were inclined to argue, the Izvorica least of all: she was still recovering from ...

Chapter 8

It was pleasant out.

The Grand Orrery lights were blue and bronze, brushing softly against the pavement stones, and a breeze too soft to push against the morning mist trailed down the street. If Song were a fortunate woman, she would be sitting in the delightful garden terrasse of the Emerald Vaults, sipping at a cup of Jigong g...

Chapter 7

Adarsh Hebbar was quick on his feet and not half so careless as he looked.

He also was not heading back to Hostel Street, if the way he headed straight for the broken shrines behind the Old Playhouse was to be believed. Tristan had to wait and let him get ahead, as the stairs back down to the street were open ground with little room to hid...

Chapter 6

“To join the court of cats,” Tristan hummed, “is most easily done.”

There were exactly forty-two people down in the Old Playhouse, barring himself and Tredegar. Of these ten were servants, which he suspected would not count as people according to many of those folk in fine black cloaks chatting beneath pavilions. The guest...

Chapter 5

The watchwoman handling the ledger at the front

Chapter 4

“Not here,” Song firmly said.

The watchwoman at the desk was leaning in, eyes bright at the prospect of gossip. Maryam would not have minded airing out Tredegar’s dirty little secrets, but it was not worth the fight with Song. There was nothing to gain there save the joy of spite.

Up the stairs they went, to a stone hallway wit...

Chapter 3

Before her house’s demise, Angharad had only twice journeyed at sea.

Once to visit her distant kin in House Bethel – a trip two days long by ship but three weeks by horse - and the other time to spend a week at the isle of Seler Seithenyn. On both occasions she had sailed with House Tredegar’s trading carrack, the Swift Alder 2023-07-21 04:00:04 +0000 UTC View Post