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Ahead was a female officer, with a handaxe attached to each hip. Her black hair was slicked back into a perfect bun, dressed in turquoise and bright yellow. The colors of Flaustra.
“One passage to Flaustra,” Magda announced when she stepped in front of the girl.
“I’m sorry,” she replied curtly, her accent thick in Magda’s native language. “That’s a cargo ship. You can wait for the next tourist transport.”
“And when will that be?”
“One week’s time.”
“I don’t have one week to spare.” Magda’s eyes flicked to the ship as the clamor increased. It was clear they were almost ready to set sail. “Please, I’ll pay my way,” she begged.
“Even if you had enough money to interest me in that proposal, you’re not getting on that ship. It’s completely full, and I’m short staffed as it is.”
The wheels were turning in Magda’s head. Here, using her title as a princess wouldn’t help her get by. She would have to convince this woman with her words and wit. What would Aleksy do? He would have charmed them no doubt. And Dagmara? She would have had a plan before approaching this woman. Too late for that.
So she said, “I’ll pull my weight, don’t worry.”
“You look like you’ve never worked a day in your life.”
Magda was taken aback by the girl’s brisk responses, and she frantically tried to come up with an argument to get her on the ship. Did she have any skills? Would she be able to cook food for the sailors? Would she be able to help them navigate?
When the woman realized that Magda wasn’t going anywhere, she rolled her eyes and said, “Do you have money or not?”
Magda nodded. She dug deep into her pockets to find the last remaining pouch of gold stamped with an elk. There were approximately twenty-five pieces inside. She wouldn’t need them where she was going, for she had stolen other currency from her parents’ study, so Magda plopped the pouch in the woman’s hands.
The woman’s expression changed after she peered into the pouch. She switched to her native tongue before asking, “Do you even speak Flaustran?”
The words were spoken so quickly that Magda almost didn’t have time to register what the woman had said. Magda dug deep to remember her Flaustran classes with her private tutor all throughout grade school. She switched to the language before replying. “I do.”
The woman scrunched her eyebrows and looked down at Magda over the brim of her nose. “You’ll have to work on your accent. And this one?” She looked down at Odie.
Odie wagged his tail in response.
“He’s coming too,” Magda answered.
“Are you sure?” the woman asked, her eyebrows raising in surprise.
“Of course.”
“Suit yourself. Let’s go.”
The woman in the turquoise coat walked down the dock, beckoning Magda and her pet to follow her. As she turned to board the ship, a golden cufflink flashed in the setting sun, drawing Magda’s attention. It was a symbol Magda had only seen in her lessons—a peacock feather—the mark of the Fowler’s Guild.
This ship belonged to one of Flaustra’s infamous guilds that informally controlled all of Flaustra’s economy, as well as all trade in and out of Flaustra. The kingdom was famous for its luxuries and markets above all else, and some of these treasures nobles would kill for.
The Fowler’s Guild was known for traveling to the Mystic South, a no man’s land filled with precious gems and metals, as well as large beasts that they hunted for their thick fur. Because of Flaustra’s location as the closest kingdom to the mysterious south, Flaustra was a marketplace of priceless artifacts, and traders would bargain at all hours of the day for the best deals. This had boosted the guilds to the status of unofficial royals that controlled the entire Flaustran economy. They were well-funded, well-organized, and impressive fighters. They even had so much influence that the royals often had to include them in official decision-making.
The woman broke Magda’s thoughts:
“I’m Ishani. Captain of the Starway.”
Magda hesitated. Obviously, it wouldn’t be appropriate to reply with her real name. It would possibly reveal the fact that she was a guardian, or a royal. But she hadn’t had too much time to consider a new identity. Quickly, she replied:
“Dagmara.”
“Nice to meet you. It’s a long way to Flaustra. You better make yourself comfortable, and I hope you don’t get seasick.”
They all stepped onto the plank leading up to the ship, and boarded the magnificent vessel. When they jumped down onto the wooden deck, Ishani began shouting orders to the sailors that were preparing to set off. She was speaking Flaustran too rapidly for Magda to understand. When she was done screaming at those nearest to them, she switched back to Azuremi and said, “This is Dagmara. You better treat her well…or else.” Ishani’s hands shifted to her waist, and Magda’s attention was drawn to the two hand-held axes hanging from either side of her belt.
