Happy Monday, folks! Here’s a new chapter of ADTR to brighten the beginning of your week.

Previously: Mac and the crew tried to meet up with Molly but ran into trouble.

Currently: The Talon regroup and we see some fallout from Hax and Pax’s actions.

A Dread Tide Rising is a serialized, pulp-flavored, epic fantasy novel that follows the Talon, a group of mercenaries, thieves, and smugglers, as they come face-to-face with an ancient enemy intent on the destruction of the Rakkian Empire.

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Chapter 29

Crockery rattled as the serving boy laid food on the table.

With few other options, the Talon had returned to Taina’s place. It was more crowded than usual, and Mac chalked that up to the riots. In a corner of the room, a minstrel played the lute and sang songs of ancient Tanis, long sunk beneath the waves. Gorm had dragged two tables together near the back wall so the group could all sit, but Molly’s attendants refused. Instead, they stationed themselves outside the door of the inn.

“That won’t draw any unwanted attention at all,” Mac observed sourly.

“I’d rather call attention than deal with a surprise from the Faceless,” Gorm replied.

Mac paused, then nodded. “Fair point.” He picked up his tankard and drained half in one go. “Nothing quite like a pint after a riot. Really hits the spot,” he said, wiping foam from his face.

“Nothing like a riot in Rakka,” Wynne observed. “Do you think the people will just sit by and let the emperor dictate their religion?”

“I think enough will go along with him so that the rest have it rough,” Mac replied.
“Most people don’t want to fight,” Gorm said. “They want to live their lives without too much hassle. If they think they can worship the old gods in their own homes, they’ll pay lip service to this newcomer god.”

“And their children?” Molly asked. She sat beside Mac but had not touched her ale yet. “How many generations does it take before all memory of the old gods is wiped away entirely?”

“Aye, that’s likely his long game,” Mac agreed. “Drive all other contenders underground and wait for the worship to be forgotten.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms and cracking his knuckles. “Still, that’s not our most pressing problem.” He glanced at Kye. “What are we to do with our budding weather witch?”

Kye held his gaze, as if daring him to send her away. Her defiance put him in mind of his sister, Zara. She had been the same, headstrong and willful. Dead now, along with everyone else in his family. Mac pushed the memory away. It wasn’t like him to be maudlin, at least not without a good deal more ale in his belly.

“I may have a suggestion,” Molly spoke up. Mac glanced at her, silently inviting her to continue. She brushed a wayward curl out of her eyes, flashed an encouraging smile at Kye, and explained. “I know a weather witch. Well, more than that, I suppose. She’s more powerful than any other practitioner I’ve met. Used to teach others at the school on Blackspire.”

“Used to?” Gorm queried.

Molly finally took a sip of her ale before nodding. “Used to. She retired some years back. She makes her home in The Fingers these days.”

“What does she do there?” Wynne wanted to know.

Molly shrugged. “This and that, I think. Mostly she gardens, but she barters minor cantrips with the villagers, too.”

“And she’ll be able to teach me?” Kye asked, a flutter in her voice the only sign of her inner turmoil.

“I do. To hear her tell it, she’s taught more weather workers than anyone in living memory. If she can’t, then no one can,” Molly answered.

“And what will this cost?” Mac asked. “I can’t believe that she’ll do all this out of the kindness of her heart. Not only is there her time to consider, but what about food and lodging?”

“You let me take care of that, Macland Toth,” Molly grinned, wagging a finger at him.

“You’ve got something up your sleeve,” Mac grinned back.

Molly laughed. “A lady must maintain her secrets. Without an air of mystery, what else do I have?”

“Fine, keep your secrets then,” Mac said and then drained the last half of his ale. He raised it high to signal for a refill. “So, we’ll leave on the morning tide and head to The Fingers. Haven’t been there in …”

“No,” Molly said, shaking her head and cutting him off. “No ‘we’ this time. I’ll take Kye and go to my friend’s. You and the Talon need to lead the Faceless and any other interested parties elsewhere.”

“A trick!” Wynne giggled.

“Very much so,” Molly said with a wink.

“I see where this is going,” Mac chimed in. “We’ll sail north or east, while you and Kye take a ship further west. I’m assuming you have some way for two women to travel alone but anonymously?”

“Oh, I think we can make that work. A woman and her niece traveling together would attract very little attention. Especially if they were in mourning.”

“What, with veils and all?” Kye asked, a sparkle in her eye.

“Of course! We must make it convincing, mustn’t we?”

Kye nodded enthusiastically.

Mac thought about it for a few moments. “I suppose we could find a job somewhere away from there. Batis-Bota? I’m sure Callan’s parents would appreciate a visit from their only remaining son and news of their other son’s death.”

Molly cleared her throat. “Not that I’d try to tell you your mind, Macland, and pay a visit to Batis-Bota if you feel it necessary. But I think there’s something more important that you need to do.”

Mac cocked an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

Molly smiled. “Maybe a visit to the Isle of Stars?”

“And what would I need there? I’ve not much use for Eric Arbassis or him for me.”

“You have little use for any of the Great Houses,” Gorm added.

Mac sighed. “True enough, but why should I? Useless as a boat to a fish, the lot of them.”

“You’re letting your anger color your view of them.

“Color my view?” Mac laughed bitterly. “Not one of them lifted a finger to aid House Toth. What other view could I have? And don’t forget which side of the troubles we were on. Eric Arbassis holds a grudge.”

“Be that as it may, Macland, you need to pay a visit to Shadowvale and Eric Arbassis,” Molly said, her tone firm.

“And why is that?” Mac demanded, color flushing his cheeks.

“Because someone needs to know what’s going on. You need to give someone those documents and explain what you’ve seen. Arbassis is loyal to the empire, not to the emperor. He’ll be the most likely to listen and then act.”

“Act!” Mac hissed dismissively. “Not a one of those high and mighty great houses will act unless there’s a direct threat to themselves involved. All they care about is their precious wealth and honor.”

“Well,” Molly said, refusing to back down in the face of Mac’s rising ire, “you know what to do, don’t you? You need to make Eric Arbassis realize that this is a threat not only to some of the houses, but to the House of Stars, and the empire as a whole.”

That shut Mac up for a moment. He mulled things over, then grudgingly admitted, “That might just work.” He looked at Gorm. “We’ll sail for the Isle of Stars in the morning. Send word to Padraig to be ready. I guess we’re going to talk to Eric Arbassis about a war.”

Molly patted his arm. “I knew you’d get there eventually.” She picked up her ale and downed it. “Now, are we going to sit here at the table all night, or are you going to ask me to dance?”

Mac, realizing the minstrel had changed to something more upbeat, happily obliged. He took Molly’s hand and twirled her out into the center of the common room. Gorm and Wynne joined them, and then other diners took the cue. Soon, the inn’s main floor was a sea of flowing skirts and twirling bodies. The rest of the Talon sat at their table, enjoying the food, the music, and the last opportunity to savor a bit of civilization.

One was not content with the evening, though. Hax bid his farewells to the rest and then made for the stairs and took them quickly. Reaching the room he shared with Gorm and Mac, he closed the door and sighed deeply.

“Not feeling like a party tonight?” a voice asked from the shadows.

Hax reeled back against the door in surprise and reached for his sword. A flare of light came from the corner as Mac lit a candle.

“No need to get defensive,” he said, holding the flame aloft. “It’s time for that talk I mentioned.”

Hax visibly relaxed, and his hand fell from his sword hilt. “Mac! You gave me a fright.” Hax stepped into the room and sat on the edge of his bed. “I thought you were dancing. What’s to talk about?”

Mac wasted no time. “It was your hidey-hole idea that led the false Faceless to Kye,” he said.

Hax frowned. “Now wait a minute. You can’t blame me for that! How was I supposed to know they were following?”

“How indeed?”

“Look, if you’re accusing me of something, come right out and say it. Don’t belabor the point.”

“Fine.” Mac stood and stepped to where Hax sat to stare him in the eye. “What was the agreement? I overheard you, you know. When you were supposed to be rescuing Kye?” Mac glared, and Hax shifted uncomfortably under the weight.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mac. I swear, you’ve got land sickness or something.”

Mac smiled and then blandly punched the other man in the face. Hax yelped and held his bleeding lip.

“Don’t lie to me, Hax. You betrayed Kye to the Faceless, didn’t you?”

Hax cast around, desperate for some way out of this situation, but nothing presented itself. Finally, cornered and with no other recourse, he turned to the truth.

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted, shoulders slumping. “But it’s not what you think, Mac, I promise!”

“You mean you weren’t going to take gold for handing her over to the thieves?”

“Oh, no, we were going to get paid,” Hax admitted. “I meant that they weren’t gonna kill her.” He glanced around as if to make sure no one was listening, even though they were alone in the room. “Her mother’s high up in the Faceless. Wants her daughter back safe and sound.” He nodded and sat back, a self-satisfied smirk growing on his face despite the blood leaking from his lip.

“Well, that does add a new dimension to things,” Mac admitted, his tone thoughtful. Then his eyes hardened. “But it don’t absolve you of going behind my back to hamstring us. You betrayed us for gold. Makes no difference whether they wanted to kill her or feté her. You took gold to turn on someone under my protection, someone who’s been part of our crew!”

Hax held up his hands, palm out, trying to ward off Mac’s growing anger. “But we didn’t, did we? She’s still here. I… I helped get her back, for all the gods’ sake!”

“And another thing,” Mac whirled on him. “You keep saying ‘we’. Who helped you with this little side project of yours? I can’t think that Gorm or Wynne would have had any truck with it, which leaves just one person. Your sister.”

Hax’s downcast eyes were his only response.

“That makes sense,” Mac said. “You two sail with the same wind.” Then a thought struck him. “How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you been planning this?”

Hax looked shamefaced. “Since Scylline’s Cross.”

“That business with your uncle?”

Hax nodded.

“Godsdamn it!” Mac shouted. “Fine. You did go back to get her, so I guess that’s something. It means I won’t have to kill you. But we’re done, you two and me. You hear that? You and Pax get your gear and get out. You’re no longer part of the Talon. I want you out of this inn within the hour, and I never want to see your lying faces again!”

He whirled and stormed out of the room, slamming the door on his way out.

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