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Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Map
  5. Epigraph
  6. BEGINNINGS
  7. PART I
  8. ONE
  9. TWO
  10. THREE
  11. FOUR
  12. FIVE
  13. SIX
  14. SEVEN
  15. EIGHT
  16. NINE
  17. TEN
  18. ELEVEN
  19. TWELVE
  20. THIRTEEN
  21. FOURTEEN
  22. FIFTEEN
  23. SIXTEEN
  24. SEVENTEEN
  25. EIGHTEEN
  26. NINETEEN
  27. TWENTY
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. TWENTY-NINE
  37. THIRTY
  38. THIRTY-ONE
  39. THIRTY-TWO
  40. THIRTY-THREE
  41. THIRTY-FOUR
  42. THIRTY-FIVE
  43. THIRTY-SIX
  44. PART II
  45. THIRTY-SEVEN
  46. THIRTY-EIGHT
  47. THIRTY-NINE
  48. FORTY
  49. FORTY-ONE
  50. FORTY-TWO
  51. FORTY-THREE
  52. FORTY-FOUR
  53. FORTY-FIVE
  54. FORTY-SIX
  55. FORTY-SEVEN
  56. FORTY-EIGHT
  57. FORTY-NINE
  58. FIFTY
  59. FIFTY-ONE
  60. FIFTY-TWO
  61. FIFTY-THREE
  62. FIFTY-FOUR
  63. FIFTY-FIVE
  64. FIFTY-SIX
  65. FIFTY-SEVEN
  66. TRICKSTER
  67. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  68. Also by Susan Dennard
  69. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  70. Newsletter Sign-up

“You’re saying Corlant is at the center of the Hell-Bard Loom?” Iseult shook her head. “That makes no sense. He has no connection to Cartorra or the Hell-Bards, no reason to bind such people to him.” Besides, Iseult had seen Henrick dominate his Hell-Bards. He was in control. “Corlant must simply be able to dream-walk. Eridysi did it. You did it. The Paladin Portia did it. Perhaps all Voidwitches are able.”

The weasel shook her head, unconvinced. Then she nudged Iseult’s jaw and a new image formed. One of cleaving, one of Threads.

The message was clear: if Iseult wanted to understand the Hell-Bard Loom and free Safi, then she needed more power. And to get more power, she needed to go to Poznin and claim the rest of Eridysi’s diary. Only then could she could march back across Cartorra to rescue Safi, no fear of Hell-Bards. No fear of Henrick or Corlant or anyone.

“Yes,” Iseult told Esme, scratching her weasel ears. “When we get to Poznin that is exactly what I will do.”

NINE

Thirty-four naval ships floated across the Veñaza City harbor. Spindrift and humidity thickened the night, casting everything in a ghostly haze. While Vivia stood at the Iris’s tiller, spyglass to her eye, the royal Nubrevnan flag snapped and waved on the mainmast.

“Why are they not moving?” the Empress asked. She stood beside Vivia, having traded in her golden gown for one of Vivia’s old naval uniforms, though the navy coat swallowed her and only her iron belt kept her beige breeches high.

Vivia ignored her, lowering her spyglass and beckoning her Voicewitch near. Ginna, a round-faced woman with coloring brown as fresh clay, hurried over. Meanwhile, every sailor on the Iris waited poised and ready. Some at oars, some in the rigging, and some simply watching the blockaded horizon from the narrow windows belowdecks. Their shadows stretched over patches of swaying lamplight.

“Find the nearest Dalmotti Voicewitch,” Vivia commanded. “Ask them why they do not move aside the blockade for a royal Nubrevnan ship.”

“Hye,” Ginna murmured, and instantly, her eyes turned glassy and pink. A sign her magic had stretched wide like a fisher’s net. Four long breaths trickled by with only the moist wind on Vivia’s hair and the rhythmic creak of the Iris to fill the weighted silence. Then Ginna’s voice dropped to a baritone: “This is Captain Kadossi of the Lioness. You are ordered to return to the Southern Wharves, Your Highness.”

“Turn back?” Vaness demanded before Vivia could speak. “On whose orders and what grounds?”

Vivia’s shoulders tensed upward. This was not the first time Vaness had taken the lead despite Vivia being the captain here.

“By order of the Doge, you must return to the Southern Wharves. Dock your ship and come ashore immediately.”