Free Enigma by Lindsay Buroker Page A

the south, and Tikaya blinked at the realization that they’d reached something more than harsh wilderness. Granted, the town of Tangukmoo might be just as harsh as the surrounding lands—indeed, the log and hide cabins, gambling halls, and taverns spreading out from the docks lacked a posh, civilized appearance—but the ships in the harbor lightened her heart. Even the abstemious nature of a cabin at sea sounded delightful after the nights spent sleeping on cold rocky ground.
    “Any idea how we can pay for passage?” Tikaya asked.
    “I can volunteer for employment as a fireman in the boiler room.” Rias took out a collapsible spyglass and perused the harbor. “Hm, make that as a seaman.”
    Even without magnification, Tikaya could see that most of the vessels had masts rather than smokestacks. She smiled. “Are you sure you know how to work a ship that doesn’t come with an engine?”
    “Of course. I can sail anything.” Rias lifted his chin, and Tikaya might have teased him for letting his Turgonian arrogance show, but he winked and added, “Even wooden toys in the tub.”
    “That doesn’t sound like a difficult feat.”
    “It is if there are a lot of them and they’re engaged in mortal battle with each other while cannonballs fly.”
    “Cannonballs?” Tikaya asked. “In... the tub?”
    “I carved them from the soap bars.”
    Tikaya imagined an eight-year-old version of the former admiral, orchestrating this conflict in the washroom. “I’m sure your parents appreciated that.”
    “It did mystify Mother for a while until she discovered me at the task.” Rias lowered the spyglass and pointed to the harbor. “We have a challenge.”
    “You say that in the way other people might say we have a problem.”
    “Most of those are fishing and whaling vessels. They’ll be plying the coast and the Durtan Sound, not heading south. Our two options are a Nurian merchant vessel and a schooner of indeterminate origins. The schooner lacks the size and armament of a typical brigadier or pirate ship, but it shows signs of having been in a battle—or at least fired upon—recently.”
    Those limited options definitely sounded like a problem to Tikaya. “The Nurians would kill you for all the trouble you caused them in the war, and pirates might try to steal the priceless artifacts we took from the ruins.” Artifacts she planned to take to the Polytechnic for further research, not hand over to high seas marauders.
    Rias’s eyebrows rose. “Should I be concerned that it’s not entirely clear which would be more objectionable to you?”
    Tikaya grinned. “Well, I have been passionate about archaeology and philology since childhood. You’re a more recent interest.”
    “I believe the answer to my question is yes, then.” Rias collapsed the spyglass and returned it to his pack. “During our long sea voyage, I shall have to see what I can do to raise myself from interest to passion in your mind.”
    Tikaya swatted him as he led the way down the goat trail again. His sense of humor always warmed her heart. She wondered if it was significant enough an attribute to earn a spot on her list of arguments. Reminded of the task, her grin faded and she stared glumly at the page. Would her people ever be able to see him as something other than an enemy? What if she was risking his life by taking him back to Kyatt? More than once, she’d considered going home alone and promising to meet him at some foreign port where they could start a life together, but the thought of saying goodbye to her family forever brought moisture to her eyes.
    “This passion that I’m going to bestir in you,” Rias called over his shoulder, “it requires that we stay together.”
    “Oh!” Tikaya wiped her eyes, put away her journal, and hustled to catch up. “I thought you might be planning to do it through love letters or poetry sent from afar.”
    “Alas, we Turgonians are a military lot, not known for our literary prowess.”
    “Just