Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(8)

A year ago, he’d risked returning to Tarvos, to find better work and the answers he’d craved. He’d been worried that someone might recognize him, but that wasn’t a problem. The compound where he’d lived was gone, replaced by dockside warehouses.

Kadar and his crew had muscled into the port right after the empress destroyed it. He’d bought up all the prime real estate, rebuilt some of it, and gotten his fingers into all the local commerce. No deal was done, no crew was hired, no money came and went through the port without Kadar getting a piece of it.

In Tarvos, people said that Captain Strangward was dead and Cloud Spirit sailed for the empress now, with Tully Samara at the helm.

Evan’s heart twisted when he heard this. Strangward had been a tough master, but Evan had trusted the bond between them—the unspoken promise of honesty. He’d trusted the crew of Cloud Spirit—Brody and the others—and they had betrayed him. He was done with that. He would not give his trust again so readily. The problem was that not even a stormcaster could sail a blue-water ship on his own.

During his year in Tarvos, Evan had been given a few contracts to crew on blue-water ships, but Kadar mainly assigned him to New Moon, the one ship the dock boss owned outright. Kadar had learned that with Lucky Faris aboard, cargoes got delivered and goods got smuggled in record time, which put more money in the dock boss’s pocket.

Evan still had the share that Strangward had given him. Since arriving in Tarvos, he’d taken all the work he could get, but at this rate, given Kadar’s stingy wages, he would be old and gray before he built a stake large enough to buy the kind of ship he wanted.

There was also his addiction to books.

“The packages you brought ashore for me?” Evan said. “Where are they?”

Kadar tipped his head toward the warehouse. “They’re just inside the door.”

“Thank you.” Evan turned back toward the warehouse, but Kadar dropped a hand on his shoulder.

“Look, Faris. I’m having a little gathering at the Windfall later on. I hope you’ll join us.”

Kadar owned the Windfall—a combined tavern/clicket-house/company store for sailors. He liked to run a tab for his crews so that he could part them from their pay before they found somewhere else to spend it.

“Lucky Faris” might sound like a name a gambler would use, but Evan had no intention of leaving his earnings on the tables at the Windfall, or getting deep in his cups and deeper in debt and spilling secrets that were better kept close.

Kadar owned everything in Tarvos worth having, but he didn’t own Evan—not yet—and that grieved the dock boss.

“Thank you,” Evan said, “but I need to get home.”

“C’mon,” Kadar said. “Be sociable for once. Don’t you want a night out after so long at sea?”

It’s hardly at sea, Evan thought, when I could jump off the boat and swim to shore anywhere along the way.

Evan shook his head. “Not tonight.”

“First round’s on me.”

And that would be watered-down piss. Or the full package—turtled belch, empty pockets, and a knife in the back.

No. Kadar was making too much money off his sweat right now. Plus, Kadar never did anything without an agenda of his own.

“No, thanks. I’ve got some reading to do.”

Kadar cocked his head. “How old are you, anyway?”

Evan had to think about it. Had it really been two years since he’d left Strangward’s service? That would make him fifteen. “Seventeen,” he said, adding two more years for good measure.

“Seventeen?” Kadar said. “Then you ought to be making the acquaintance of the handsome lads and ladies upstairs. Surely there’s somebody to your liking.” When Evan shook his head, Kadar’s eyes narrowed. “You might as well be a monk. You didn’t catch the wetland religion, did you?”

“No,” Evan said, an edge to his voice now. “I’m not a monk. I’m just careful with my money.” And my heart. The last thing he needed was to get entangled with one of Kadar’s courtesans. He stuck out his hand. “Speaking of money, if you’ll pay off the last of my contract, I’ll be on my way.”

Kadar scowled. He really, really, really hated parting with money. “Suit yourself,” he said, plunking a bag of coin into Evan’s waiting hand. His expression grew even darker when Evan proceeded to count it. And count it again. When Evan looked up and opened his mouth to speak, Kadar said, “You might’ve noticed that it’s less than what you’re used to.”

“It’s not that it’s less than what I’m used to, it’s less than we agreed on,” Evan said, looking the boss in the eye.

“Times are hard,” Kadar said. “The empress in the north is making life miserable for all of us. A man never knows if his cargo’ll get to where it’s going these days.”

Evan wasn’t buying. “So prices of goods are up,” he said. “I travel with a full hold and I get it where it’s going on time. You should be making more money than before. I should be making more money than before.”

“I’ve got more expenses than ever before,” Kadar said. “Everyone’s taking a pay cut.”

“Everyone?” Evan folded his arms.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”