Page 22 of The Empty Throne

So up the steps and into the library he went,to the messages desk, where same-day and overnight deliveries couldbe sent and retrieved. Usually such messages were delivered bybirds or people, but for a much greater cost they could also bedelivered magically. Such magic was rare and difficult, and so theprice was commiserate. All cities and towns could receive suchdeliveries, but only the major cities could send them.

When it was finally his turn at the desk,already busy, despite the miserably early hour, Bittersea said,"Message for Misenki Paal. Should have arrived in the past fewhours."

The woman turned to search through the arrayof cubbies and slots behind her and pulled down an envelope of darkgreen waxed paper closed with a black wax seal. She slid it acrossthe desk with a brisk, "Already paid for."

"My thanks."

Back outside, he found a street cart where hecould sit and enjoy breakfast, which was miso soup, fluffy eggsfilled with cheese, and pickled vegetables. Breaking the seal onthe envelope, he read the lengthy contents while he ate.

So Fazekas's heir had run away from home.Intriguing. Did Fazekas realize he was missing? That must bemucking with his plans to continue beating Lindquist almost todeath. If only Bittersea could see his face. Ah, well, work first,pleasure later.

Finishing his meal, Bittersea laid coin onthe counter for it and returned to the bustling streets. In fishingcountry, the day started early and ended late, depending on howgood or bad of a haul was brought in.

He paused at one of the flickering lamplightslining the streets and fed the letter into it until nothingremained but ashes in the wind. Then he carried on to the docks,sweeping his gaze over the fishing boats, weighing his options.

Eventually, he settled on an old man wholooked like he could handle himself and the mercurial sea, butlikely wouldn't mind an easy day that finished early—and knewbetter than to ask questions.

The man looked up as he heard Bittersea'sfootsteps and gave him a critical once over. His skin was heavilylined, toughened by years of hard work on the unforgiving sea,subject to treacherous waters, scorching sunlight, freezing cold,and fish that did not succumb quietly to their grim fate. "Whatwould you be wanting then, soft skin?"

Ignoring the dull insult, Bittersea flickedhis hand, a gleaming senar appearing in his fingers, becausesleight of hand was child's play. "Take me to Tilika. I'll find myown way back."

"Done."

Bittersea tossed him the coin and climbedinto the boat, and minutes later they were riding off across thewaves. The sky was heavy with clouds, promising the snow was farfrom over, and the waves choppy. As he'd hoped, though, thefisherman handled everything with ease, and didn't seem inclined torun his mouth the whole time. They were always one or the other:never shut up, or never said a word.

Other than the choppy waves, the trip wasthankfully uneventful. "Thank you," Bittersea said as he climbedout of the bed. "Fair winds and full nets."

"Be careful, whatever you're about."

Bittersea laughed as he walked away. Everyonealways thought he was the one who needed to watch for danger. Sofew ever realized he was the danger everyone else should bewatching for.

Once upon a time, Tilika had been bright andthriving, a place of constant activity and frequent celebration.They were the closest sign of civilization to the remote Lindquistestate and had thrived because of it.

That also meant that as the family died, sotoo did the town.

Now Tilika was as dull as the sludgy graywater of the docks, as desolate as the rocky landscape they'd builton, with fewer and fewer people around every year. Lindquist lovedto natter endlessly about restoring it, restoring everything,making his family and estates as glorious and good as they'd oncebeen.

Bittersea, on the other hand, was perfectlyhappy to see the Kuluris lands lie as dead as the worthless familyhe'd murdered. After his father had beaten him half to death in adrunken rage. Pushed his baby sister down the stairs, killing herquickly, but not so quickly she didn't scream first.

After finding her dead, Bittersea didn'tremember much. Just the blood. The satisfaction of slitting hismother's throat, stabbing his brother so viciously he cut his ownhand, a careless mistake that he'd never let happen again.

Then had come his father.ThatBittersea remembered. He'd killed him with agonizing slowness,forced him to suffer every last second of it, until the pain andfear finally broke his mind and torturing him was no longersatisfying.

After his father was dead and in pieces, he'dtaken care of the rest of the family as they trickled home, everylast damn one of them, and a few of the servants, those who'dalways sided with his parents, his aunt, and uncles, perpetuatingthe cruelty.

If he could do it all over again, he'd do itwith relish.

Given the four-hour journey to Tilika, therewere no boats left to take him to Lindquist that day. He'd have towait until evening or, more likely, morning, though there wasalready so little sunlight now that there was little way to discernnight from day.

As ever, traveling involved far more waitingthan moving, and unfortunately, Tilika was too small and remote tobother having an inn. The best he'd find was room in the stable ofthe local tavern, or permission to bed down in front of the fireonce the place closed down for the night.

Walking through town, ignoring the stares ofcurious villagers, he headed for the tavern, which stood out fromthe rest of the dreary buildings only by way of a creaky, rustedsign above the door that simply saidTilika Fishing Hole.Somebody probably prided themselves on their cleverness for thatone.

Inside, it looked and smelled much the sameas last time, with the same collection of grizzled old men in thecorner, gossiping and drinking. A smattering of other people werefinishing up breakfasts, and a couple of them ate faster as theysaw him, either out of fear or eagerness to spread gossip; it couldbe hard to tell which sometimes.

The barkeep grunted as Bittersea reached him."Didn't think to see your face again."

"You and me both," Bittersea replied. "Can Iget the same deal as last time?'

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