Page 1 of The Rebel's Prize

CHAPTER1

When you run from your life for the second time, you expect things to go more smoothly than the first. But apparently that wasn't the case.

Chloe de Roche pulled the hood of her cloak farther over her head and eyed the inn across the street.Everything will be fine.

The knots in her stomach thought otherwise. Ten days of travel across Illvya, Kharenia, and now Miseneia had dented her convictions. The one thing that had gone right so far was that no one from Lumia had caught up with her. But her freedom had come at a cost. Ten days of traveling covertly, sleeping little, and looking over her shoulder for Imperial soldiers was exhausting. As was being set up as the scapegoat in a conspiracy against the emperor. And exhaustion would lead to mistakes.

If it hadn't been for the protection of Octarus, her sanctii, she might not have made it this far. She definitely wouldn't make it all the way to Partha traveling alone. Which was why she was watching an inn and steeling her nerves.

"He's definitely inside, right?" she muttered under her breath.

[Yes.]

Octarus's voice in her head sounded more certain than she felt. The man she'd been seeking since she first left Illvya, hoping for his help to get her across the empire as fast as possible, had proven an elusive quarry.

She'd made her way to Orlee di Mer, where she'd first met Samuel Jensen, the ship's captain who had smuggled her to Anglion ten years ago. But when she'd gone in search of him in thecalleon the edge of town he used as the base of his operations—or had when she'd last needed him—she'd discovered, after handing out quite a bit of gold, that he was on a run up to Jinkara in Miseneia.

It had cost her still more gold to find out when he was supposed to reach his destination. It was only because she'd been able to use portals for a few sections of the journey that she had managed to arrive a day ahead of him.

Earlier she had kept watch, gritty-eyed and longing for sleep, from behind a grimy window in a nameless docksidekafiaas his ship, theSalt Sprite, had come into port not long after dawn. And then waited long hours drinking their bitter coffee as his cargo—what appeared to be legitimate trade goods—had been offloaded.

Finally, Samuel himself had stalked down the gangway and headed off into the depths of Jinkara's port district. The sight of him had made her smile for the first time in days. Not just from the relief that she was in the right place but also from seeing him after so many years. After all, he had saved her life in more than one way.

Octarus followed Samuel while she retreated to the cheap inn where she'd secured a room. Near sunset, the sanctii returned to report that Samuel and several of his crew had taken rooms at the Emperor's Pride—an ironic name for a distinctly seedy-looking inn—and appeared to be settling in for an evening of drinking.

The Emperor's Pride was on the opposite side of the docks to the inn she'd holed up in, closer to the edge of the respectable parts of the town. Samuel was doing well for himself, it seemed.

Which hopefully boded well for her.

She waited nearly two hours before heading out, trying to judge enough time for Samuel to at least eat and relax without allowing things to get too...unruly. She wasn't in any real danger with Octarus lurking invisible near her, but she didn't want to have to call for his help if she could possibly avoid it.

As a woman alone, her hair dyed a dreary dark brown to hide the colors of her magic, she didn't draw much attention. But a woman with a sanctii was notable, particularly the farther away from Illvya she got. Water mages strong enough to bond a sanctii usually became Imperial mages. For those to whom a life of service didn't appeal, finding employment was no issue. Which meant they most often lived in the empire's larger cities.

In a town the size of Jinkara, which thrived only due to its harbor, Octarus would stand out. And his gray face, with the paler strips of skin around his eyes, was distinctive. The last thing she needed was reports of a woman and a sanctii who fit his description getting back to Lumia and giving those who were probably looking for her a lead.

[All right,] she said in her mind to Octarus. [Stay close, but don't do anything unless I ask you to.]

She tugged at the hood of her cloak one more time, making sure it would stay in place. It was warmer in Miseneia than Illvya, but the harbor breezes were cool enough at night that her cotton cloak wasn't unusual. Satisfied the hood wasn't going to fall back, she crossed the street and pushed open the door of the inn before she could change her mind.

Inside, the babble of voices was loud and the air warm. Lanterns hung from the ceilings, giving enough light to have a clear view of the room and, she assumed, of her. But her entrance didn't draw much attention other than a few assessing looks from the men and women already eating and drinking at the tables. Her nerves eased back an inch. At least this wasn't the kind of inn where the only women to set foot inside were those who earned their living there.

A quick scan yielded no sight of Samuel's dark hair. But there was a second room beyond the first, so she made her way across the floor, ignoring the rumble in her stomach as the scent of the food being served rose around her. Miseneian cuisine was spicier than Illvyan but delicious. Jinkara's harbors meant fresh fish featured more often than other meat, served with rice or long, thick noodles and vegetables.

But she'd been too nervous to eat much all day as she'd waited for Samuel to disembark. Her hasty breakfast of two honey pastries and a pot of minted tea had only been supplemented by some herbed flatbread she'd bought on her way back to her inn. She ignored the rumbling. She would eat once she'd found Samuel and discovered whether he could—or would—help her.

The second room was less crowded, the tables farther apart, the lanterns dimmer. She hesitated at the threshold as her eyes adjusted. Heads started to turn in her direction, and she made herself step inside, not wanting to draw any more attention than necessary. It was harder to look around discreetly, but—thank the goddess—a familiar booming laugh rolled across the room before it became obvious that she was searching for someone.

She followed the sound, trying not to smile. Samuel was seated with several other men at a table in the farthest back corner, under a soot-encrusted lantern whose light was dim to the point of being nearly useless. She suspected it was left that way deliberately. Dark corners would be useful in dockside inns, and it didn't really surprise her to find Samuel lurking in one. If he conducted the shadier side of his business here, he would want as little scrutiny as possible.

The nerves came back with a vengeance, replacing hunger pangs with anxiety as she approached his table.

"Excuse me, are you Captain Jensen?" Better not to act as though she knew him until she knew who he was with.

Samuel's eyes widened briefly as she pulled back her hood, and he put his tankard of beer down with a startled thump that suggested she was the last person he'd been expecting to see. But he quickly schooled his face back to a determinedly unconcerned expression she recognized from the first time she'd gone looking for him more than ten years ago.

"Who's asking?" He tilted his head slightly as he studied her, the expression in his dark eyes giving nothing away. He looked so familiar that she lost all sense of where she was, and it took a moment to remember.

She straightened her shoulders. "I was told you might be able to provide me with some information on transporting some goods."

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