Lost mark 3 The Queen of Death: by Matt Forbeck Page B

leave, I will need a place to sleep, unless you can help me arrange for passage out of here before the rest of you depart.”
    Kandler winced inside, but Burch took it all in stride. "I’ll see what I can do,” the shifter said.
    Kandler hoped his friend wouldn’t go out of his way to succeed.
    "What about supplies?” Kandler asked. "I’d like to get underway as soon as we can.” He avoided Sallah’s gaze as he spoke.
    Burch grimaced. "They don’t always sell supplies to outsiders, but they’re under orders to deal with us as if we were citizens of Aerenal.”
    "How’s that?” Kandler asked, suspicious.
    He glanced around and saw the dockmaster regarding him with an imperious smirk. An awful lot of the weaponry on these battlements seemed like it could be pointed at him as easily as the Phoenix.
    "There’s someone here—someone important—who wants to have a word with us.”
    "And this elf has enough pull to get us access to the supplies we need?”
    Burch nodded. "If we go see him right now.”
    Kandler narrowed his eyes at the shifter. "Who is it?” "Name’s Ledenstrae.”
    Kandler felt his head spin, and he heard Espre gasp in shock.
    "My father?” she whispered.
    Chapter
    15
    Espre hadn't objected when Kandler ordered her back onto the Phoenix. Whether she thought it was the right idea or was just too stunned to object, he couldn’t tell. Either way, she had let Monja lead her back onto the airship without comment.
    "Take us to Ledenstrae,” Kandler said to the dockmaster in Elven.
    The dockmaster stared cold-eyed at Kandler from under his high-crested helm—a crimson feather topping its crest of polished brass—and gave Kandler a thin-lipped sneer. "My orders are to bring you all to him at once.”
    Kandler’s fangsword leaped from its scabbard and parted the air just over the dockmaster’s head. The sword returned home before any of the nearby elves could even reach for their blades. The feather from the dockmaster’s helmet flipped before his eyes as it floated to the ground.
    "We’ll be enough,” Kandler said.
    He’d wanted to take the elf’s head off, and he’d had to fight with himself to keep it from happening. Spilling the dockmaster’s blood wouldn’t get him what he wanted: supplies and a good northerly wind to send them on their way.
    The dockmaster pursed his lips as he tried not to display being impressed. "Very well,” he said, using the common tongue. His thick accent betrayed how rarely he saw fit to use the language, and from the sour look on his face it seemed to leave a rancid taste in his mouth. "Your friends will stay here.”
    Kandler knew they’d be safer on the Phoenix than in Aerie. With a little luck, the airship might be able to make a clean getaway in a pinch, especially if the first rounds from the large weapons in the turrets went wide of the craft’s restraining arches. Such weapons packed a devastating punch, but they took forever to reload, and the Phoenix had proven she could take a devastating amount of punishment and still remain skyworthy.
    The justicar gestured for the dockmaster to lead the way. The proud elf with the featherless helmet marched them down off the battlements and into the fortified village.
    Unlike most of the wartime cities Kandler had walked through, Aerie had clean, sharp lines. Each street, building, and square had been planned out before the first stone had been laid. Everywhere the justicar looked, the best way in and out of any given area seemed painfully clear.
    "Who would build such a place?” Sallah asked. "The moment invaders managed to breach the walls, they would have an easy path to every important building in the town.”
    The dockmaster scoffed at the lady knight and her companions. "These walls never have been breached, and they never shall. The warriors in this region are dogs scratching at our doors—if they manage to crawl that close.”
    "Tell you what,” Burch said, his eyes constantly scanning the walls and