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Tregor stooped to pick up the coin and then loped toward the street hawkers, most of whom sold food.
Facing a person who’d been hurt by sirens was a new experience for her. She told herself that he probably deserved his injuries. If humans didn’t want to be maimed by sirens, they only had to stay out of the ocean.
She just wished didn’t look so pitiful, collecting the solitary copper coin from the dirty ground. It gave her a feeling she did not enjoy. The fact that he waited until they left somehow made the feeling worse.
All in all, she disliked being on land so far.
The stones were searing, which made her walk faster. More and more, she understood the value of shoes, and she vowed to procure a pair for herself as soon as possible. The only people who seemed to be barefoot were vagrants, like Tregor. That must’ve been exactly what she looked like in her filthy oversized clothes.
Even away from the docks, people stared at Riella. A small boy ran right up to her and tugged at the sleeve of her shirt, trying to get her attention. She shook him off in what she believed was a gentle fashion.
The humans she usually handled were pirates—large men—not small children. With accidental force, she sent the boy sprawling onto the cobblestones. He promptly burst into tears.
Artus roared with laughter, throwing her an appreciative glance over his shoulder. “Can’t blame the little fella for being curious, siren. But you’ll need to be more accommodating than that where we’re going.”
A woman wearing an apron ran to the boy and consoled him. The woman cringed away from Riella and refused eye contact, as though she feared the siren. Then she realized, the woman did fear her.
Riella, who was duty-bound to protect innocents, felt like her entire world had been turned upside down. Which, in essence, it had been. None of this was right. She was not where she was supposed to be, nor doing what she was supposed to be doing. Being caught between two worlds had rendered her useful to no one, including herself.
Fletch ushered her along and she let him, wanting to leave the scene of the woman and her crying child.
By now, her siren friends would have well and truly realized she’d met with trouble. They would have searched for her, and probably still were, but they would’ve found nothing. With no trace of Riella, what else could the sirens do to help her? Very little. She was alone.
Worse than being alone, really, because she was tethered to Dark Tide Clan pirates, of all humans. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she was also on the run from a lunatic sorcerer. His last words to her had been a warning about how she didn’t know what she was doing. How awfully correct he had been.
But at least as long as she had legs, she could rescue Seraphine. And then kill him, so that he could never kidnap and torment anyone again. The siren promised the elf she would not die, and Riella meant to keep that promise.
“Halt!”
A pair of uniformed royal guards blocked Artus’s path. They wore polished versions of the captain’s blue and red jacket, with a crown insignia on the lapels that his lacked. Either he was a royal guard long ago, or he wore the jacket to mock them.
The guards wore silver helmets and carried swords in their belts.
“Who’s this?” one demanded, lifting his chin at her.
Artus gave a laconic shrug. “A rare ocean jewel. We are en route to Madame Quaan’s right now.”
The guard’s frown cleared, and he took a second look at Riella. “Is that right?” His voice was different now, having lost the clipped professionalism.
Artus offered his hand to the guard. After a moment’s hesitation, he shook it. When the man withdrew his hand, gold flashed in his palm.
Bribery did not surprise Riella. But she was interested that Artus carried gold. If she could relieve him of it, she could buy her way to the Black Cliffs.
Who was this Madame Quaan? Perhaps she was a mage. Her name certainly sounded like it belonged to one. Riella decided to hold off on robbing him until she found out. There was no sense in sabotaging what might be a solution to her problems.
The glow of the royal palace became visible before the palace itself. The golden gleam warmed the façades of the buildings on the opposite side of the street. When Riella and her companions reached the top of a hill, the incredible structure came into view.
She stopped and stared in awe. Artus, who sweated in the heat, took the opportunity to remove his jacket and fold it over his arm with deliberate care. Fletch offered to take it, but the captain waved him away.
The palace seemed to touch the heavens, puffs of white cloud drifting around the highest steeples. Zermetic flags flew from the spires and the entire structure was made of pale golden stone, with gold accents and elaborate edging. Riella had never seen such human-made beauty. She had not known they were capable of it.
Sirens had castles and temples beneath the ocean—intricate structures carved out of stone. The buildings were deep and blue and cool and quiet. The exact opposite of the bright and hot airiness of this castle.
Land and sea truly were two different worlds, and almost never the twain met. Certainly, no human had ever swam to the depths of Zydenthis. Had any sea-dweller set eyes on the royal palace of Klatos before?
“And they call us criminals.”
She broke from her reverie. It was Artus who’d spoken.
