The Theft of Sunlight by Intisar Khanani (story reading .TXT) 📕

that there was some way to take down those at the top—the mages who are betraying our people. I don’t want to hurt our royal family, or bring about the anarchy Bren spoke of. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with the regrets the archer gave voice to in her journal. But when I consider that the Circle is actively enslaving our people, and will walk away untouched, my anger hardens into a fist in my belly.

“You want another anomaly,” Kirrana says. I blink at her, and she adds, “To fully convince the royals to investigate Berenworth. The company is powerful enough that a single anomaly and a coincidence or two won’t be enough. Right?”

I nod, even though that wasn’t what I was thinking. But she is right.

“Well,” Kirrana says, springing up and industriously stacking ledgers. “I say we go for a walk. It’s a lovely spring day. Let’s get this put away and go visit the river wardens.”

“Is that a good idea?” I ask, taken aback. “Will they even be open?”

“Yes and yes. Palace offices are closed an extra day; everything else is back to business as usual. But I’ve been to the wardens’ office before, and they know me. They won’t be surprised to see me. Come on,” she urges me.

Laughing, I push myself to my feet and help her clear off the table, carefully returning each ledger to its place. The docks are on the east side of the city, nowhere near the Scholar’s territory. In full day, in Kirrana’s company, it should be fine. I do, as I promised Captain Matsin, write a short note to Mina advising her that I am going for a walk with a friend but will be back by early evening, and we collar a page out on the paths to deliver it for me.

Then we continue past the practice fields, where guards are drilling, and on to the side exit. Out on the street, Kirrana hails a passing wagon for us, in an effort to save my foot the walk. The middle-aged woman who drives it won’t even take a coin in exchange for a ride on her crates to the other side of the river. Her brow furrows as she notes the faded yellow bruises on my cheek, but she says only, “I’ll take you across the bridge to River Road, but you’ll have to walk down to the docks yourselves.”

We rattle along in the spring sunshine, Kirrana pointing out various historic buildings and points of interest. The bridge we take is humbler than the one the princess’s carriage crossed over for the wedding ceremony. While I can just see the thin towers of the temple to the north of us, most of the view is taken up by a dock. More than a dozen boats are moored there, at least half of them actively loading or unloading.

Kirrana points. “See the galleys with the green-and-white pennants? Those are Berenworth’s.”

I run my gaze over the boats, searching. All but one are merchant galleys, with space for at least one set of rowers, though the oars are pulled in right now. They aren’t the deepest vessels—they can’t be, on the river—but there’s space for a single-level hold beneath the rowers, and a small cabin on deck for the kitchen and the captain’s quarters. Looking over them now, I spot three different galleys flying Berenworth’s colors.

“Here we are,” our driver announces as we reach the end of the bridge. She pulls off to the side, where the bridge intersects with the road to the dock. “You two enjoy your day!”

We thank her and clamber out of the wagon. It’s a short walk down the road to the multiroom building that serves as the main office for the river wardens.

Any anxieties I’d entertained about our showing up unannounced are eased the moment we walk in the door.

“Kelari,” the head warden says with a smile and bow to Kirrana. He’s a tall, lanky man with the longest mustache I have ever seen. “It’s always a pleasure. Do you have another project to check on?”

“Always something new,” Kirrana agrees pleasantly. “Today I need the loading ledgers from last year. A discrepancy has been noticed, and they want me to make sure it didn’t get carried over.”

“Of course,” he says, and takes us to the records room in back. The room is relatively bare but for a central table—low, with cushions around it, just like at home! And a wide window, unshuttered to allow in the sunshine. The monthly ledgers are lined up on a shelf, with other shelves reserved for additional reports.

He waves toward the ledgers. “You’re in luck. We were planning to send these up next week, and then you’d have had to fight the administrative building for them.”

“I’m glad you’ve been slow,” Kirrana says with a grin.

He laughs. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Kirrana assures him she will, and with a quick bow, he departs, closing the door behind him. Kirrana hands me the first set of ledgers and quietly lifts down the incident reports for her own review.

About halfway through my second ledger, I pause. “This is odd,” I say. I flip back a page, then forward.

“What is it?”

I turn back to the loading bill. “This was the only ship loaded on this date. It’s one of Berenworth’s.”

Kirrana gets up and comes to look over my shoulder. “About a year ago, hmm? That is odd. There’s always more movement than that on a particular day. What about the next one?”

“Very busy,” I say. In fact, there were no fewer than ten ships loaded the next day—more than usual. “Were the offices closed for some reason?”

I flip back again.

Kirrana frowns. “Look, there’s nothing recorded for the two days before that.”

“The queen’s death,” I say, staring at the date. “The city was shut down for the three days of mourning, wasn’t it? This ship should never have been loaded.”

“It’s possible the warden wrote down the wrong date on the