When the Threads Unravel

Prologue

If they caught her, they would kill her.

There was only one way for a Rak-Shai to get into Anagovia—through stealth. For Gemni Sy’ing, that meantcramming herself like a rat between boxes in the hull of an Anagovian ship. Only the certainty of her fate, if discovered, made the discomfort bearable.

The ship rocked as she sat there, knees tucked tight against her chest. Footsteps pounded on the planks over her head as the crew finally went ashore for a night in the city. The salty tang of the ocean air was already laced with the bite of alcohol. The sailors had started drinking before they even got off the ship.

She waited several long minutes after hearing the final set of boots thud off the ship before unfolding herself out of her hiding spot, knees and shoulders creaking, and stealing onto the main deck. The stars were on her side and the moon was dark. In her black clothing, she was just another shadow as she slipped across the ship.

She hugged the slatted railing, letting the irregular shadows dance with her own, breaking up her silhouette and keeping her hidden should anyone happen to glance her way. After that, it was only a short crawl down the gangplank and she was lost in the maze of boxes and barrels on the wharf.

She resisted the urge to sigh as she peeked around a barrel that reeked of fish. The whole of Pinescar spread out before her, but right now, all she could see was the muddy, rutted roads beside the docks. Wooden storage buildings ringed the bay, their broad front doors closed and locked for the night. More boggy roads fanned out from the bay and into the city like spokes on a wheel. Sailors and traders meandered down them, drawn to the mirky lights spilling fromtaverns and, no doubt, even less reputable entertainment.

None of them were the people she sought. The Star-Reader had said she would be successful in her search, so it had to be true, but the matriarch hadn’t been forthcoming with details about how.

“It’s part of your journey, Gemni. Trust in the stars and let their light guide you,” she’d said all those long weeks ago.

Had she known how little of that light could be seen in these filthy Anagovian cities? Gemni looked towards the Stars and was only able to find a few faint glimmers. The lights and smoke of the city drowned out the rest.

But she had to try.

Gemni took a deep breath and let her eyes unfocus. Her vision shifted and splintered into a million Threads, weaving together into the complex tapestry of the world. Years of focused training had stamped out any urge to grab and snatch at the Fabric, and she quietly observed the Threads as she waited for them to give her some direction. The patterns in the Stars were far too distant to make out with the naked eye, but if she was patient…

There. A brief spark to the south guiding her way, so fleeting it could have been her imagination.

Gemni waited for the few lingering sailors to turn away, then sprinted to the next pile of cargo, then across the street bordering the pier until she could melt into the shadows between the rundown storage buildings and port-side shops.

The streets and alleys near the bay were wide, giving wagons and carts plenty of room to pass through, and mercifully empty at this time of night. Still, she kept the hood of her ragged cloak pulled low all the same. She held her breath as she passed by a trio of men huddled around the back door of a building, drinking. If her face was seen, there would be no mistaking that she was Rak-Shai. Any Anagovian would have her hanging from the wooden city walls by sundown the next day.

The war between their nations ended almost forty-two years ago, but that wasn’t long enough for Anagovia to forget a war they’d nearly lost. Theirs was a bitter culture. The men glanced her way, then turned back to each other, dismissing her. She eased her shoulders down and relaxed her fists as she turned another corner.

She had to keep moving. The people she searched for wouldn’t be hiding in the shadows.

The smell of the ocean faded behind her. The buildings changed from warehouses and questionable taverns into the homes and businesses of craftsmen. The alleys shrank until they vanished, the buildings sharing walls and forcing her into the open streets. With as much ease as she could muster, she joined the thin crowds of people out for the evening. It was early fall and a chill hung in the air, so she wasn’t the only person with their hood up, but she could feel eyes on her all the same. The cut of her cloak wasn’t the same as theirs. Her casual stroll must have looked forced.

Gemni wasn’t even surprised when a guard came toward her from across the street. She didn’t give him a chance to reach her.

The sparse crowd would never have been enough to conceal her, but running would only have attracted more attention. She lengthened her strides and barged through the front door of the building on the nearest corner. She didn’t know what kind of establishment it was, but bright orange and yellow paper lanterns hung from the awning. The owners were still friends of the Rak-Shai.

It turned out to be a tavern, and it was already full of patrons, both milling around the bar to the right and spread out at the tables filling the rest of the room. A minstrel sat on the far end of the bar, playing a doleful tune on a pan flute.

Gemni pushed her way through, aiming for what she hoped was the kitchen door on the back wall.

A rough hand grabbed her arm hard enough to bruise. “Staff only,” the boorish bouncer grunted as he started to drag her back towards the entrance. She had no doubt he’d toss her right into the waiting arms of the guard.

She pulled her medallion out from the folds of her tunic and shoved it in his face. The silver of the star encircled by twelve smaller stars flashed in his eyes and he released her like he’d been scalded.

“Watcher… I didn’t know. I…” he sputtered.

His employers must have warned him she may one day come. She didn’t pause to listen to his mumbled apology before sweeping back towards the kitchen, her medallion now proudly on display. The front door to the tavern creaked open as she shut the kitchen door behind her.

The staff in the kitchen all regarded her with weary eyes as she wound her way through the tables and dodged past servers loaded down with full trays of food, but none of them stopped her when they saw the emblem of Ba-ataklam hanging around her neck. They nodded or dipped into shallow bows—if they could—moving out of her way. Then she was out the rear entrance and moving to the south yet again.

Gemni followed the stars through the muddy streets for the rest of the night, until the growing light of dawn finally took their guidance from her. Reluctantly, she gave up her search for the day. She’d been able to narrow down the area where her quarries were, but there were so many buildings, all stacked on top of each other, that she couldn’t figure out which one they were in. Several times, she thought she caught of glimpse of one of them only to turn and see a guard or an old man dressed like what the Star-Reader said they wore. She needed rest.

She doubled back to an inn she’d passed. An ivy-trimmed sign hung over the door, showing a red horse with a fish’s tail. As she walked up, a trio of laughing people brushed past her and through the front door. Warmth and music spilled out into the street. Gemni shoved her complaints aside and turned into a nearby alley. She couldn’t go in and ask for a room, but she had other methods for getting in.

After making sure no curious eyes had followed her, she shimmied up the gutter beneath a dark window. Praying the room was empty, she picked the lock on the window and let herself in.

It was nothing fancy—merely a bed and a battered wardrobe—but the mattress was soft and the blankets were thick enough to ward off the chill. The room was thin and long, with another window facing out into the street. She set her pack on the floor near that window and pushed the drapes aside. If she wasn’t diligent, they could pass bay when she wasn’t looking, or leave the city while she slept.

The glow of dawn had yet to guild the streets, but she saw them as clearly as if they were lit from within.

A beast of a man in armor, a war hammer at his side. One of the Anagovian Weavers, his robes tattered and worn. And an elf, her right arm in a sling and the side of her head shorn, putting her marred ear on display. They trailed behind a guard with a longsword on his hip.

She’d found them after all.

Now to get them alone.

With her heart pounding in her throat, Gemni grabbed her pack and lowered herself back out of the window and into the street behind her targets.