Read Online A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab - Free Book Online
Authors: V.E. Schwab
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the floor when she remembered the map. The one to anywhere. She freed it from the desk and tucked it under her cloak, and then, with a last look around the room, she set fire to the dead man and the boat.
Lila stood on the dock and watched the
Sea King
burn.
She stared up at it, face warmed by the fire that danced on her chin and cheeks the way the lamp light had before the constable.
It’s a shame
, she thought. She’d rather liked the rotting ship. But it wasn’t hers. No, hers would be much better.
The
Sea King
groaned as the flames gnawed its skin and then its bones, and Lila watched the dead ship begin to sink. She stayed until she could hear the far-off cries and the sound of boots, too late, of course, but coming all the same.
And then she sighed and went in search of another place to spend the night.
III
Barron was standing on the steps of the Stone’s Throw, staring absently toward the docks when Lila strolled up, the top hat and the map both tucked under her arm. When she followed his gaze, she could see the dregs of the fire over the building tops, the smoke ghosted against the cloudy night.
Barron pretended not to notice her at first. She couldn’t blame him. The last time he’d seen her, almost a year before, he’d kicked her out for thieving—not from him, of course, from a patron—and she’d stormed off, damning him and his little tavern inn alike.
“Where you going, then?” he’d rumbled after her like thunder. It was as close as he’d ever come to shouting.
“To find an adventure,” she’d called without looking back.
Now she scuffed her boots along the street stones. He sucked on a cigar. “Back so soon?” he said without looking up. She climbed the steps, and slouched against the tavern door. “You find adventure already? Or it find you?”
Lila didn’t answer. She could hear the clink of cups inside and the chatter of drunk men getting drunker. She hated that noise, hated most taverns altogether, but not the Stone’s Throw. The others all repulsed her,
repelled
her, but this place dragged at her like gravity, a low and constant pull. Even when she didn’t mean to, she always seemed to end up here. How many times in the last year had her feet carried her back to these steps? How many times had she almost gone inside? Not that Barron needed to know about that. She watched him tip his head back and stare up at the sky as if he could see something there besides clouds.
“What happened to the
Sea King
?” he asked.
“It burned down.” A defiant flutter of pride filled her chest when his eyes widened a fraction in surprise. She liked surprising Barron. It wasn’t an easy thing to do.
“Did it now?” he asked lightly.
“You know how it is,” said Lila with a shrug. “Old wood goes up so easy.”
Barron gave her a long look, then exhaled a smoke-filled breath. “Powell should’ve been more careful with his brig.”
“Yeah,” said Lila. She fiddled with the brim of the top hat.
“You smell like smoke.”
“I need to rent a room.” The words stuck in her throat.
“Funny,” said Barron, taking another puff. “I distinctly remember you suggesting that I take my tavern and all its many—albeit modest—rooms and shove each and every one of them up my—”
“Things change,” she said as she plucked the cigar from his mouth and took a drag.
He studied her in the lamplight. “You okay?”
Lila studied the smoke as it poured through her lips. “I’m always okay.”
She handed back the cigar and dug the silver watch out of her vest pocket. It was warm and smooth, and she didn’t know why she liked it so much, but she did. Maybe because it was a choice. Taking it had been a choice. Keeping it had been one, too. And maybe the choice started as a random one, but there was something to it. Maybe she’d kept it for a reason. Or maybe she’d only kept it for this. She held it out to Barron. “Will this buy me a few nights?”
The owner of the Stone’s
Lila stood on the dock and watched the
Sea King
burn.
She stared up at it, face warmed by the fire that danced on her chin and cheeks the way the lamp light had before the constable.
It’s a shame
, she thought. She’d rather liked the rotting ship. But it wasn’t hers. No, hers would be much better.
The
Sea King
groaned as the flames gnawed its skin and then its bones, and Lila watched the dead ship begin to sink. She stayed until she could hear the far-off cries and the sound of boots, too late, of course, but coming all the same.
And then she sighed and went in search of another place to spend the night.
III
Barron was standing on the steps of the Stone’s Throw, staring absently toward the docks when Lila strolled up, the top hat and the map both tucked under her arm. When she followed his gaze, she could see the dregs of the fire over the building tops, the smoke ghosted against the cloudy night.
Barron pretended not to notice her at first. She couldn’t blame him. The last time he’d seen her, almost a year before, he’d kicked her out for thieving—not from him, of course, from a patron—and she’d stormed off, damning him and his little tavern inn alike.
“Where you going, then?” he’d rumbled after her like thunder. It was as close as he’d ever come to shouting.
“To find an adventure,” she’d called without looking back.
Now she scuffed her boots along the street stones. He sucked on a cigar. “Back so soon?” he said without looking up. She climbed the steps, and slouched against the tavern door. “You find adventure already? Or it find you?”
Lila didn’t answer. She could hear the clink of cups inside and the chatter of drunk men getting drunker. She hated that noise, hated most taverns altogether, but not the Stone’s Throw. The others all repulsed her,
repelled
her, but this place dragged at her like gravity, a low and constant pull. Even when she didn’t mean to, she always seemed to end up here. How many times in the last year had her feet carried her back to these steps? How many times had she almost gone inside? Not that Barron needed to know about that. She watched him tip his head back and stare up at the sky as if he could see something there besides clouds.
“What happened to the
Sea King
?” he asked.
“It burned down.” A defiant flutter of pride filled her chest when his eyes widened a fraction in surprise. She liked surprising Barron. It wasn’t an easy thing to do.
“Did it now?” he asked lightly.
“You know how it is,” said Lila with a shrug. “Old wood goes up so easy.”
Barron gave her a long look, then exhaled a smoke-filled breath. “Powell should’ve been more careful with his brig.”
“Yeah,” said Lila. She fiddled with the brim of the top hat.
“You smell like smoke.”
“I need to rent a room.” The words stuck in her throat.
“Funny,” said Barron, taking another puff. “I distinctly remember you suggesting that I take my tavern and all its many—albeit modest—rooms and shove each and every one of them up my—”
“Things change,” she said as she plucked the cigar from his mouth and took a drag.
He studied her in the lamplight. “You okay?”
Lila studied the smoke as it poured through her lips. “I’m always okay.”
She handed back the cigar and dug the silver watch out of her vest pocket. It was warm and smooth, and she didn’t know why she liked it so much, but she did. Maybe because it was a choice. Taking it had been a choice. Keeping it had been one, too. And maybe the choice started as a random one, but there was something to it. Maybe she’d kept it for a reason. Or maybe she’d only kept it for this. She held it out to Barron. “Will this buy me a few nights?”
The owner of the Stone’s
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