Free Tempest by Cari Z. Page B

How could he long so much for a connection with someone he’d just met?
    â€œI’m ready,” Colm said, pushing his secret desires aside with more facility now that they were both fully dressed.
    â€œGood! Let’s start with the layout of the docks, so you’ve got a sense of what’s where. Then we’ll see about a boat and the things Gran needs for a funeral service.” Nichol led and Colm followed, and they left behind the sanctuary of the Cove for the increasing bustle of people in the streets.
    The air smelled cleaner here than it did deeper in the city, the product of being right next to the water, Colm imagined. He could taste the salt of it on his tongue now, roll it around against the back of his mouth and let the flavor soothe him. There were still the interminable odors of sewage and street food, but the brisk easterly wind diminished them.
    â€œThe admirals won’t be pleased by this cross breeze,” Nichol predicted as he moved easily through the crowd, stopping every now and then to point out useful stores to Colm. “They’ve been readying for a push to the Inisfadda for months now. They have to get the whole fleet together there before they can sail on to the Garnet Isles. If they don’t make it before the autumn storms move in, they’ll have to abandon their plans for yet another year.”
    The Inisfadda, Colm knew, were the closest islands to the coast of the Muiri Empire, and the only ones currently under the Emperor’s control. The Garnet Isles were technically independent, but the Kingdom of Speir across the sea was making its own bid to expand its reach and rule them. The coming battle would rely heavily on skill and swiftness, which was one reason only the best were being accepted to serve in the navy. It was one of the few topics of conversation Colm’s fellow travelers had discussed on the road that he’d been at all interested in.
    â€œHekla’s place has the best prices for tackle, and he’s one of the few along this way who’ll deal in small amounts,” Nichol said, interrupting Colm’s reverie as he pointed out a small building nestled tight between two larger ones. “And his wife makes lovely meat pies. They travel well and taste just as good cold as hot. Better than the ones back home, but don’t tell Gran I said that or she’ll skin me alive and hang my pelt over the bar,” he joked, and Colm smiled and shook his head. “Ah, you think I’m kidding, but Gran’s frightfully competitive sometimes. Wait until the summer feastday comes round. You’ll see it then.”
    They walked on, dodging around people and moving at a fast clip, and Nichol shared bits of information and gossip on every store and every ship: who owned them, what their business was, whether they were looking for help. “I know you’re a fisherman, but if these waters give you trouble, there’s always demand for a good net mender,” he said, then raised his hand and pointed out past the lines of ships toward the horizon. “Do you see the pillar there? That’s the official entrance to Caithmor’s harbor. No fishing is allowed within its bounds, there’s too much chance for accidents between boats, but it doesn’t take long to sail out past it with a good breeze.”
    â€œI hope I’ll have cause to know that,” Colm said, and Nichol laughed.
    â€œOf course you will! Don’t accept anything that isn’t what you want the most.” That, Colm thought as Nichol pulled them away from the waterfront and toward a large, blocky building a few hundred yards in, sounded like his new cousin’s entire way of life.
    â€œThis is the coast guard’s hall,” Nichol continued, walking right up to the wide doors and heading inside. There were thin windows spaced far apart along the walls, the only source of light in the otherwise dark hall except for the lantern