The further that they explored into Tusana the more Ninia regretted that she had never been here. From what she had been told, Tusana was a haven for pirates and those like the crew of The Mercy of Dradinoor who liked to sail for their own business. This, especially the talk of pirates, led Ninia to believe that Tusana was a place of lawlessness and insanity.

  But now, she realized there was far more to it.

  Taverns were everywhere, begging for people’s Gins to be spent after a long days work, a few which doubled as inns had music pouring out of them, flutes and lyres and drums. A spice store, scents like nothing she had ever smelled before wafted to Ninia’s nose, made her wish Higlim were with them. Tailor shops, butchers, weaponsmiths. This was a merchant’s utopia.

  And with that, the streets were crowded with life. Ninia loved people, she didn’t much care for the way that she had been jostled as she was walking but it was typically followed by a prompt apology from the guilty party.

  “This place is amazing!” She called to Alinyaln, shouting to be heard over the excitement.

  He said something but Ninia hadn’t been able to hear much more than garbled sounds. That was fine, he probably wasn’t saying anything too important. He turned off to the side which surprised Ninia, but she followed him as best as she could, wading through the people. The building he stopped at was a small tailor’s shop. The window was filled with three large gowns of various colors, all with vibrant blue trim on the edges. How did fabric turn that color? It almost seemed to glow in the light of the day.

  The sign was written in Loshish so Ninia couldn’t parse out what it said, but it was accompanied by a pair of scissors artfully carved into the white painted wood. “What does it say?” She asked Alinyaln, who was staring at the solid wood door. No, he wasn’t staring, his eyes were closed and he was breathing hard. He was preparing himself for something.

  He didn’t answer her question, instead he pushed his way inside. The bell affixed to the door frame jingled pleasantly as he entered, Ninia following him. There were dozens of dresses, each of different styles, some with large frills, others with sleek designs. There was even one on the hook that was little more than interwoven ribbons, but it seemed to cover everything important.

  A woman’s voice called from the back, “I’ll be right out!”

  “Thank you!” Alinyaln called back, but he didn’t use his real voice, pitching it downward for some reason. He then began to look at a random dress, holding it in shaking hands.

  “Captain?” Ninia whispered to the man. “Are you alright?”

  “Aye, lass.” Alinyaln said, nodding to her. “Just nervous.”

  “What do you have to be nervous about?”

  “I just am.” He snapped at her in a whisper. “How do I look?” He ran a hand along his hair, as if to make sure it was still tied up in a tail.

  “How do you—Captain, what is this about?” Ninia demanded of the man.

  Before the Captain could answer, the curtain leading into the back room where the sewing equipment was kept was pulled open. Ninia wasn’t able to see the woman as she approached, herself and the woman in question being short enough to obscure each other with the racks of clothing, Ninia could only barely see a head of black hair and something blue on the woman’s forehead, a headband perhaps?

  The woman came into view, and Ninia could see that she was a short woman, and curvaceous as well, filled out far better than any other woman Ninia had ever seen. Her face was gorgeous, with a wry smile that crinkled her eyes slightly and a nose that was just right. But then there was a disconnect, something that marred the beauty of the woman. She was blue. Her skin was a blue color, as if you took the warm brown of a person and shifted the color to resemble the sky. Blue skin notwithstanding, this random tailor was divine.

  “How are you doing toda—” The woman began but she cut off abruptly when she laid eyes upon Alinyaln, her eyes widening and jaw going slack. Everything was still as she took in the sight of Alinyaln.

  “Hey, S—Syrin.” Captain Alinyaln, the stalwart Captain of the Mercy of Dradinor, former protégé of the great Pirate Yamadeon on the hunt for the traitor Tyrnarm, stammered at the pretty woman.

  The woman, Syrin, flung herself onto Alinyaln, causing the man to stagger from the surprise weight. He then wrapped his arms around her and the two spun in a circle, both laughing in joy. Alinyaln set the woman down and she looked at him, then she slapped him in the face. “Six years!” She yelled. “Six years with only two letters and all you say is ‘Hey?’” She slapped him again, this time aiming for any spot that she could reach.

  Alinyaln defended himself passively. Based on the sounds of the slaps, they weren’t very hard and even then softened by the thick fabric of his maroon cloak. “Hey, now!” He said grabbing her arm after the tenth slap, then he pulled her close in an embrace. “I’m happy to see you, too.” He whispered to her, pressing his face into her black hair.

  “Don’t you try to squirm out of this, Alinyaln!” She yelled at him, pulling herself away. “Asking me for money and then—” She stopped, her already wet eyes took him in and then began to stream. “Manuan Above, Lyn.” Syrin reached up and touched Alinyaln’s scarred cheek. “You—What—”

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  “Tyrnarm.” Alinyaln said solemnly, holding her hand to his face.

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  Alinyaln closed his eyes. “I didn’t want you to worry, Syrin.” He explained to her, a tear trailing from his eye now, running along the scar until it met the woman’s fingers.

  “Didn’t—Didn’t want me to worry?” Syrin pulled her hand away and crossed her arms. “Lyn… ‘Crew’s dead, ship’s gone, Tyrnarm did it. Stay away from him if he comes. I’ll find him. I need my money. I love you. Lyn.’” She recited, as if she had read the letter every day since she had received it.

  “I’m… Sorry, Syrin. I truly am.” Alinyaln said, then pulled the woman close and kissed her on the lips.

  Ninia felt like an intruder on such a raw moment between these two. She had been slowly making her way back once Syrin began to attack the Captain, but she was stopped when she bumped into a clothing rack and knocked a dress onto the wooden flooring.

  The two separated, Syrin wiping her eyes and looking over at Ninia. “Who’s this, Lyn? New concubine?”

  The blush that rose on Ninia’s face burned hotter than the sun. She began to stammer though she had no idea what she was even saying.

  Alinyaln laughed, a deep and happy laugh. One that, up until now, Ninia realized she hadn’t truly heard before. Who was this woman? “No, Rin, she’s under my wing, so to speak.”

  Syrin looked up at Captain Alinyaln. “Truly? A spindly girl like this?”

  “Hey!”

  “She’s got fight in her, Syrin, and she’s smart too.” Alinyaln said with a wave. “She’s teasing you, lass.” He said to Ninia.

  That’s when a small smile broke onto Syrin’s face, a sad smile still, but a smile. “I’m Syrin, Lyn’s….” She trailed off. “What are we, actually?”

  “Betrothed.” Alinyaln shrugged. “At least, we were.”

  “Fiancée then.” Syrin said with a nod. “But that’s for another time. Come, come!” She insisted, waving them along as she walked to the back room, holding the curtain open for both Alinyaln and Ninia.

  There was plenty that could have been expected in the back of a tailor’s shop. Spindles of fabric, needles and thread organized into neat containers, a mannequin with a half-finished gown sewn on top of it. A window in the ceiling was covered up with a large piece of fabric covering most of it so it allowed only a small amount of sunlight into the room.

  But then there was plenty else in the room that was completely unexpected. A tall glass tube filled with lightning which bounced wildly from side to side in the container, was attached with thin strands of metal to a tiny motor, spooling shimmering thread onto itself from another spindle. The thread in the first spindle was a dull gray color, but watching it Ninia could see it turn from gray to an almost iridescent color as it passed over the small flame of a single candle.

  Lamps lit with various colors of fire sat attached to the walls at specific intervals, inside of each of them was a small gemstone that was ingulfed in the flames. Below these was a hammer carved with a strange design that had clearly been used to shatter similar gemstones, as the top of the anvil was covered in glittering multicolored sand. Sand that glowed.

  Dozens of Sigils written onto paper covered the walls, each with a cloudlike design that bespoke of something interesting. “You’re a Cloud Crafter.” Ninia said to Syrin, the woman watching her inspect everything.

  “I am at that.” Syrin nodded. “What tipped you off?”

  “So she’s the one we came to meet? Someone to help Letno find Tyrnarm?” Ninia asked Alinyaln, the man sitting himself down in a padded chair.

  “You didn’t come to me for my good looks, then?” Syrin sighed wanly. “Typical man. Uses you and then only crawls back when he needs somethin’.”

  “Who’s to say I’m not here to use you again?” Alinyaln winked at the woman who laughed.

  “This conversation is over.” Ninia said, shaking her head in disgust.

  Syrin pulled over a chair for herself and sat next to Alinyaln in his. “You want me to help track down Tyrnarm, then?”

  Alinyaln looked at her. “Aye, love. We had somethin’ of a breakthrough in Rythmar, thousands of slaves were purchased by a few ships, and someone in that group was using the name ‘Yamadeon’ for the records, someone who matches Tyrnarm’s description.”

  “Thousands of slaves, you said?” Syrin looked surprised. “Where would he come up with the Gins for that? How would anyone?”

  “I don’t know. He shouldn’t have any more money from his family coffers, since the fall of Retin twenty years ago made the royal family that was reigning destitute.” Alinyaln put his hand on top of Syrin’s and rubbed, the brown skin a contrast to the blue.

  “Tyrnarm was royalty?” Ninia asked. She hadn’t known that detail.

  Syrin nodded. “He was estranged from his family when he was young, this is what prompted him to join Yamadeon’s crew. An opportunity to steal some Gins from the royal transports themselves to spite his family.”

  “But then, Retin fell.” Alinyaln said. “He had started to make peace with his family, sending them letters and even visiting them regularly, and from what I remember it was going well, but once the continent of Retin fell into the seas from overmining the then current royal family was ousted, a new monarch put in place.

  “A few years later, the former King and Queen took their own lives..” The Captain said, his tone sad. “Tyrnarm—well, let’s just say he never forgave himself for rejecting them for so many years.”

  “You sound like you’re sad about it.” Ninia pointed out.

  “Because I am, lass. King and Queen Gryna were good people, I met them on several occasions and they were nothing but kind to me. And the effect it had on Tyrnarm… Remember, lass, Tyrnarm was my best friend for some fourteen years before he betrayed me. If I’m being honest with myself, I still love him like a brother. I hate that our paths turned to conflict and I can never forgive him for what he did in slaughtering my crew, but... there’s still love there.”

  Syrin rubbed Alinyaln’s back. “You’ll do what’s right, Lyn.”

  Alinyaln wiped at his face, then looked at Syrin. “I’ll do my best, love.” He said to her.

  Ninia looked at the Captain. It came to her only then that she really didn’t know the man nearly as well as she had thought, for there to be this entire side to him that Ninia didn’t even know existed. He had always been a flirt, as far as Ninia could tell, but the way he acted with Syrin was far beyond that.

  The words came out before she could stop them. “I’m here for you, Captain.” Then she saluted, fist to her chest.

  Smiling, the Captain saluted her backwith his free hand. “Thank you, lass. Can you… Please go back to the Mercy, take the rest of the day off,” He told her. “Syrin and I have some catching up to do.”