Page 17 of Realm of Thieves

“You say that as if you know me,” I tell him, unable to keep the venom out of my voice.

He straightens up, towering over me. I thought that without his armor Andor would look less imposing, but that hasn’t been the case. Now that he’s dressed in only charcoal-colored pants, a dark brown leather vest, and a black shirt with sleeves that go to his elbows, I realize the armor didn’t add much to his muscles—he’s just as strong and defined without it.

Well, he’s had suen, I remind myself, trying not to notice how his clothes cling to him.That’s what gives him the power and strength.

Although most people I’ve met who’ve taken the substance don’t look like him.

“Oh, I would never profess to know you,” Andor says, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “Not yet.”

“Keep it that way,” I mutter under my breath, averting my eyes from the intensity of his gaze and looking back to the horizon. The fog bank in the distance starts to split down the middle, letting rays of sunlight through, reflecting off the sea like burning mirrors.

“It’s the goddesses,” he says, following my gaze. “They’re welcoming us home.”

“Goddesses?”

He stretches his arm out, pointing at the horizon. “See those tall curving shapes in the distance, in front of the mountains? Those are the Goddess Gates that protect the harbor of Menheimr, the jeweled city.”

I squint at the shimmering light and look past to where two points form close together. At first I thought they were two mountain peaks but the closer we get, the more I can see the outline of twowomen with their faces pressed together. It’s hard to tell from here but the statues have to be hundreds of feet high, putting our dragon statues outside the convent and around the capital of Esland to shame.

“Who are the goddesses?” I ask as I glance back at him.

“Technically they are the sorceresses, Vigdis and Valdis,” he explains. He cocks his head at me. “I assumed you knew about them, but I forgot the Saints of Fire have their own gods.”

“I don’t follow the Saints of Fire,” I remind him sharply. He continues watching me and I let out a pained sigh. “I don’t know much about the other realms and their gods.”

“Did it hurt to admit that?” he asks with a chuckle. I eye his boots, hoping he has his dagger in there so I can whip it out and hold it to his throat. His laugh deepens, as if he knows what I’m thinking. “Vigdis and Valdis are the descendants of Magni, the First Sorcerer. Others consider them to be part of the Grand Sorcerers, but here in Norland they are also gods.”

“I thought there was one sorcerer for each realm?” I ask, vaguely remembering what my parents had told me.

“So you do know something,” he remarks, folding his arms. I look down at Lemi instead of the veiny muscles of his sun-warmed forearms. I don’t need that distraction. “Well, Vigdis and Valdis are sometimes considered to be one. She’s a twin of herself. So Norland gets two. Which is just as well since we share a border with Altus Dugrell—they can share our gods too. Vesland gets the sorcerer Verdantus, Sorland gets Vandill. Even though the Midlands contains only dragons, Voldansa is considered the goddess of that realm, though no one knows anything about her. And Esland gets…” He eyes me expectantly.

“Vellus,” I answer. “But no one in Esland believes in Vellus; at least they don’t worship her like a god. They know that Magni existed as the First Sorcerer, and his daughters that followed had the same magic as he did. But it was a sin to worship anyone but the dragonsthemselves. The dragons came first; they are the beings of the original creation. They are the first and last gods to the Eslanders.”

“So what do you believe?” he asks. He sounds genuinely curious, but I can’t tell if he’s trying to glean information off me to use against me later.

I shrug and raise my chin. “I have no god.”

His brows rise. “You don’t believe in anything?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I say carefully. “I just don’t believe in what a government tells me to. And I’ll certainly never believe any sort of religion that uses its faith like a weapon.”

He frowns at that and nods. “That I can understand. I’m sure you’ll find Norlanders to be deeply tied to their goddesses—when it suits them.” He finishes with a smile that shows off a crooked canine. If I believed in the goddesses I’d thank them for that. I was starting to think he was too perfect.

“Seems like we’ll have fair seas heading into the harbor!” Toombs yells from the aft deck. “Bring in the foresail!”

The crew start running around the deck as we near shore, and I find myself getting to my feet and walking down the length of the ship until I’m at the bow. Lemi follows beside me, standing up on two legs and leaning his paws against the railing to take it all in, nose raised to the wind.

With the breeze blowing back my hair, now I can finally smell what Lemi has been smelling this whole time.

It brings tears to my eyes.

The air smells like dreams, like things I’ve only imagined. I smell something that’s similar to the herbs burned at the convent and yet much fresher and deeper. It invigorates me from the inside out, like it’s filling a well in the desert, like there are seeds inside me taking root and growing.

“What is that?” I whisper aloud.

I feel Andor’s presence behind me. He’s got a peculiar sense of energyabout him, something that I would again chalk up to suen, but I don’t think that’s it. It’s like he’s full of barely contained fire, like the lava smoldering in the depths of a mountain.

“Norland,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. “But what you’re really picking up on are the umberwoods. They’re a type of cedar found only in Norland. They’ve been growing since the dawn of dragons; some are as high as four hundred feet tall. People say they’re the only trees that could withstand living among the deathdrages.” He comes around and stands at the rail beside me, his arm brushing mine, enough for a faint spark. Enough for me to move my arm away an inch. “Even though I’ve seen my fair share of dragons in the Midlands, it’s hard to imagine them ever existing here.”

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