After Louai left the Islands of the Sirens and bid farewell to Lithan, he carried with him the current map he had purchased at the price of an entire chest of Depths Salt. But the map, despite its value, was valid for only two days, and he had to make the best use of them before the symbols faded from the paper as Lithan had warned. The hours were passing with alarming speed, and the countdown of the four-day ultimatum given by his father pressed on his chest like a heavy stone, reminding him that every wasted moment brought him closer to failure, and to certain death at the hands of his brother Lucas or his father the Emperor himself.
On the morning of the next day, as the "Gray Seagull" sailed through the relatively calm waters of the Archipelago, Louai noticed something strange on the distant horizon. It was not new islands, nor mysterious ships, but something entirely different: a column of thin gray smoke, rising from the water's surface and then slowly disappearing, as if it was a signal repeating in a regular pattern. The column appeared every few minutes, then faded as if it had never been, as if someone was sending a message to those who knew how to read it. The smoke emerged from an opening in the water's surface, as if there was a structure beneath the water releasing it at regular intervals, like the slow, steady beat of a heart.
"Dorik," Louai called, pointing toward the distant column, "look at that. Is it a ship?"
Dorik approached and looked in the direction Louai indicated, his single eye narrowing in intense focus. The old captain knew these waters like the back of his hand, but this column was something he hadn't seen in many years. After moments of silence and anticipation, he slowly shook his head, his features furrowing with clear concern. "Not a ship, Prince. This... this is something I haven't seen in many years. It's a signal from the Naval Information Market."
"Information Market?" Louai repeated, his eyebrows rising slightly in a sign of hidden interest. His voice was calm, but his eyes gleamed with cautious curiosity, the kind of curiosity that always preceded his boldest moves. "What do you mean?"
"In the heart of the Archipelago, there is a place that appears on no maps and is mentioned in no official records," Dorik said, his voice becoming quieter as if afraid of being overheard by anyone other than Louai. He looked around warily, then continued in a barely audible voice: "It is an unregistered market, where information is traded like goods. Shadow traders come there, captains of smuggled ships, and even some of the Archipelago's own creatures, to buy and sell what they know about fleet movements, commodity prices, and political secrets. If there is any place where you can learn what your enemies are planning, it is there. But the price of entry is not gold—it's information. Information that no one else possesses."
Louai felt genuine interest creeping into him. He knew that information, in the world of politics and economics, was sometimes more valuable than gold. And if there was a place where he could obtain information about Kasian's movements, Liridan's plans, or even his own family's secrets, this place was worth the risk. But he also knew that everything in this Archipelago had a price, and that entering this market might be more complicated than it seemed.
"How do we enter?" he asked simply, as if asking about the entrance to a shop in the capital.
Dorik looked at him with a look that carried a mixture of admiration and concern. "It's not that simple, Prince. The Information Market is not a place any stranger can enter. It has its own laws, its own guardian, and the price of entry is not gold or salt, but information. You must offer something valuable in exchange for the right to enter, or the gate will reject you, or worse, you will enter and never leave. I've seen men enter that market and never return—not because they were killed, but because they sold what they didn't have, or bought what they couldn't carry."
"Information about what?" Louai asked, his mind beginning to work quickly in assessing what information he possessed that he could give up without harming his cause. He had many secrets, but most were either too valuable to give away, or too well-known to be of any value in such a market. He needed something in between—valuable enough to open doors, but not vital enough to jeopardize his plan.
"About anything that interests them," Dorik replied, shrugging helplessly. "I don't know what they're looking for specifically. But I know that the information you offer must be new, and not previously known in the market, otherwise it will be considered worthless and they won't let you in."
Louai stood silent for a full minute, weighing his options. He had much information, but most was either too secret to give away, or too well-known to be valuable. He needed something in the middle—valuable enough to open doors, but not vital enough to jeopardize his plan. Then, the thought came to him.
He had information about the Valtor family, his mother Empress Myra's family. He knew they monopolized black iron, and that they were secretly selling it to Liridan through phantom ports, using the monopoly to hide the price gap. This information was dangerous, but it didn't directly threaten him. On the contrary, revealing it might weaken his mother's and brothers' position and give him additional leverage in the coming negotiations.
"I have information about the Valtor family," he said finally, his eyes gleaming with cold brilliance. "About their monopoly on black iron, and their secret deals with the Liridan Republic. Documents proving this exist in the treasury ledgers I reviewed before leaving the capital. This information is completely new to the Archipelago market."
Dorik looked at Louai with a new gaze of appreciation, mixed with awe. "You know how to play the game, Prince. But beware: the information you offer may reach ears you don't want to hear it. In this market, nothing remains secret forever. And if your mother learns that you revealed her family's secrets, the consequences will be worse than you imagine."
"I know," Louai said, his voice calm but firm, "but the risk is worth the reward. If this market offers what it claims to offer, what I gain will be far greater than what I lose. And my mother's power won't last forever, especially once everyone knows the truth."
The ship changed course toward the distant gray column and began approaching it slowly and cautiously. The closer they got, the more details Louai noticed. The column was not ordinary smoke; it emerged from an opening in the water's surface, as if there was a structure beneath releasing it at regular intervals. Around the opening, there were numerous small boats, some anchored, others moving in an organized pattern as if following unwritten traffic rules. Some boats carried strange flags Louai had never seen before, while others flew no flags at all, as if their owners didn't want anyone to know who they were.
"This is the entrance," Dorik said, pointing toward the opening in the water. "The market itself is underwater. Don't ask me how, because I don't know. But I know that entry is through that opening, and that someone waits below to receive visitors."
"Underwater?" Louai repeated, incredulous. "How can a market be underwater?"
"I told you not to ask how, Prince," Dorik said dryly, adjusting the sail with his expert hands. "This Archipelago doesn't follow the laws of your world. Here, things work differently. Water is not an obstacle, but a path. And air is not space, but a barrier. Everything is reversed. I learned this the hard way, and I lost my leg in the process of learning."
Louai disembarked from the ship into a small boat with Dorik, leaving Gilbertt and the three sailors aboard the "Gray Seagull" with strict instructions not to approach the opening under any circumstances, and if they didn't return within three hours, they were to sail immediately and return to Oswald without waiting. Gilbertt was trembling with fear, but he nodded obediently, his eyes following Louai as he drifted away in the small boat.
The small boat headed toward the opening in the water, guided by Dorik's expert hands despite the anxiety showing on his face. The closer they got, the more transparent the water became, as if they were approaching a gateway to another world.
As they approached the opening, Louai noticed that the water around it was different. It wasn't blue or gray like the rest of the Archipelago's waters, but completely transparent, like liquid glass, as if it wasn't water but a portal to another world. Through the transparent surface, faint lights could be seen below, shimmering in multiple colors, as if an entire city was lit beneath the water. There was a blue glow, a faint red, and a golden yellow, undulating with the water's movement like theater lights beneath the sea.
"Get ready," Dorik said, tightening his grip on the boat's oar. "We're going in now."
The boat's descent was strangely smooth. Louai didn't feel the water wet him; instead, it seemed as if the boat was passing through an invisible barrier, as if the opening wasn't water but a liquid door that allowed passage without getting wet. Within moments, they found themselves in an entirely different world.
The underwater market resembled a small city built of coral rock and sunken wood. Narrow passages extended between low buildings, and hanging lanterns illuminated the place with a faint blue light. The buildings weren't constructed like ordinary buildings, but were carved into the coral rock, as if they had grown there over thousands of years. Some were decorated with giant seashells, others covered with glowing algae that lit the passages with a faint green light.
The creatures moving through the passages were astonishingly diverse: some were human, wearing strange clothes and carrying ledgers or small boxes. They looked like traders from every corner of the known world, but their faces bore the marks of long voyages and accumulated exhaustion. Others were sea creatures, with translucent bodies or shimmering scales, moving smoothly through the water as if born in it. Their eyes were large and glowing, gleaming with curiosity, caution, or greed. And there were creatures Louai couldn't classify—strange-shaped beings, some floating in the air rather than water, others walking on four, six, or even eight legs, as if they were creatures from old sailors' nightmares.
"Welcome to the Information Market," said a voice from behind them.
Louai turned to find a strange creature standing behind them. It was neither tall nor short, but somewhere in between. Its body was covered in a material resembling shiny black silk, and its eyes were large and round, like an owl's but without any color, as if they were mirrors reflecting everything around them. It had no visible mouth, but its voice emerged from somewhere in its body, soft and smooth, contrasting with its strange and eerie appearance.
"I am the Market Guardian," the creature said, its voice soft and smooth, yet carrying a weight Louai hadn't expected. "And you, human, carry the scent of old salt and fresh secrets. What are you looking for?"
Louai stepped forward, fixing his eyes on the creature steadily, trying not to show any fear or hesitation. "I am Louai of Oswald, son of Emperor Moran II, Supreme Overseer of the Imperial Treasury. I have come to offer information in exchange for information. I have something that may interest your market."
The creature looked at Louai with its long mirror-like eyes, then at Dorik, as if examining them together. "New information? Or just a repetition of what we already know?"
"New," Louai said, reaching into his inner pocket and pulling out a carefully folded paper—a copy of one of the treasury documents he had brought as proof. The paper was stamped with the Imperial seal, bearing numbers and signatures that proved its authenticity. "This is a sample of the information I carry. You can verify its authenticity yourself."
The creature extended its delicate hand and took the paper, examining it carefully under the faint blue lantern light. Its mirror-like eyes reflected the paper's contents, as if reading it from inside and out simultaneously. After moments of silence, it raised its mirror-like eyes toward Louai with a new look—one of cautious respect.
"These are genuine documents," it said finally, returning the paper to Louai carefully, as if it were something precious. "And we have not heard of them before. This grants you the right to enter the market. But remember: inside the market, everything has a price. The information you offer will grant you entry, but it will not buy you everything you want. You will need to bargain, negotiate, and perhaps offer more secrets to get what you seek."
"I am prepared for that," Louai said, hiding the information paper back in his inner pocket, feeling its weight as a reminder of what was at stake.
"Follow me," said the Market Guardian, turning and beginning to walk down one of the narrow passages. Its movement was smooth and strange, as if floating above the ground rather than walking on it. "I will show you where you can begin."
Louai followed the Market Guardian through the narrow passages, with Dorik a few steps behind, his single eye moving in every direction, trying to absorb every detail. The place was both strange and beautiful, like a waking dream or a beautiful nightmare. The coral buildings shimmered in different colors, some pulsing with faint light as if alive. The creatures they passed would stop their conversations and look at them with curiosity, then return to what they were doing. There were sounds filling the space: whispers, faint laughter, hands slapping in deals, and sometimes muffled screams as if a deal had gone wrong.
The Market Guardian stopped in front of a round building made of shiny black rock, its entrance decorated with giant seashells, and a door of transparent material resembling glass but thicker. The building was topped with a shimmering dome glowing with a cold blue light, like a crown above the underwater city's head.
"This is the heart of the market," the Guardian said, pointing toward the building with its delicate hand. "Here, the most influential beings of the Archipelago gather to exchange information. If you want to know what your enemies are planning, it will be here, or nowhere else. But remember: whoever enters this building must be prepared to pay the price."
Louai felt his heart beating faster. He knew this moment was crucial, and that any mistake could cost him everything. But he also knew this was why he had come, and that hesitation now might be worse than any risk.
"Thank you," Louai said to the Guardian, stepping toward the entrance.
"Remember," the Guardian said from behind, its voice carrying a hidden warning, "in this building, every word has a price. And every silence has a price too. Choose your words carefully, or you will pay a price you cannot afford. Some who entered this building left with fortunes, some left with nothing, and some never left at all."
Louai entered the building and found himself in a wide hall illuminated by hanging lanterns from the ceiling, the floor covered with strange-textured carpets, like soft seaweed growing in the deep sea. In the center of the hall was a massive round table, around which sat several beings of different shapes and sizes—some human, some sea creatures, some unclassifiable. Their eyes gleamed in the dim light, as if they had been waiting for something, or someone.
When they saw Louai enter, they stopped talking and looked at him in silence. There was tension in the air, as if everyone was testing this stranger who had dared to enter the heart of their market. Some looked at him with curiosity, others with suspicion, and others with a faint smile as if they knew something Louai didn't.
Louai approached the table, offered a brief greeting, then sat on an empty chair that seemed to be waiting for him. The chair was made of bone and coral, cold beneath his body. He looked around at the strange faces staring at him and felt the weight of the moment. He knew every word he said would be weighed and analyzed, and that any mistake could cost him the opportunity he had come for.
"I am Louai of Oswald," he said, his voice calm but clear, trying not to show any weakness. "I have come to offer information, and to seek information in return."
A short silence followed, then one of the beings at the table spoke. It was almost human, but its skin was blue, and its eyes were completely black, without whites. It wore elegant clothes of black silk, and in its hand was a cup of transparent material containing a shimmering blue liquid. Its voice was deep and cold, like water in a dark cave.
"Information?" said the blue being, its voice deep and cold. "We all here possess information, Prince. The question is: do you possess what we want?"
"That depends on what you want," Louai replied coldly, fixing his eyes on the blue being. He knew showing fear in this place would be a disaster, but excessive confidence could also be a disaster. He had to walk a fine line between them.
The blue being smiled a smile that didn't reach its black eyes. "We want something we don't have. We want to know how the Valtor family managed to maintain its monopoly on black iron despite all the economic pressures. We know prices have risen, but we don't know the real reason. And you, Prince of the Treasury, know that."
Louai felt a slight shock. How did these beings know about the black iron? But he quickly realized this was the nature of the Information Market: secrets don't stay hidden long here. Everything is known by someone, and everything is bought and sold. But the market didn't know the precise details, and that was his opportunity.
"The Valtor family is secretly selling black iron to the Liridan Republic," Louai said, his voice calm but sharp, as if dropping a bomb on the table. "They use phantom ports in the east, and forged documents to cover the deals. The monopoly is not to raise prices, but to hide the gap between what is produced and what is exported. This information exists in the treasury ledgers I personally reviewed."
A heavy silence fell over the hall. The blue being looked at the other beings around the table, as if consulting them silently. Their eyes gleamed in the dim light, as if weighing Louai's words on a precise scale. Then it turned to Louai again, and this time its voice was sharper.
"This is dangerous information, Prince. If true, it changes everything. But how do we know it's real? How do we know you're not trying to mislead us to serve your own interests?"
"I have documents," Louai said, placing his hand on his inner pocket where the paper was hidden. "But I will not give them to you for free. I want something in return."
"What do you want?" asked the blue being, its black eyes gleaming with cautious curiosity.
"I want information about Kasian's movements," Louai said, his voice growing firmer. "I want to know who his spies are inside the palace, and what he plans to do in the coming days."
The blue being smiled broadly and gestured toward Louai. "A deal, Prince. But remember: in this market, deals are not broken. If you lie, this will be your last deal in this life."
"I do not lie," Louai said, fixing his eyes on the blue being. "But I also do not tell the whole truth. That is the nature of information, isn't it?"
The blue being laughed a deep laugh and raised its cup toward Louai. "You learn quickly, Prince. That is good. It will make our conversation more interesting."
Louai sat in his chair, took a deep breath, and began presenting his information. He didn't say everything, of course. He didn't mention the names of his sources, nor reveal the full details of the deals. But he said enough to convince those present that he possessed what he claimed, and that he was not just a fraud or a liar. He spoke about the phantom ports, the secret shipments, the forged documents, and the role his mother played in these deals. Every word he said was backed by numbers and dates, making his story undeniably convincing.
When he finished speaking, a brief silence fell over the hall. Then the blue being spoke, its voice carrying a new note of respect that hadn't been there before.
"An interesting story, Prince. You are bolder than you appear. That makes us trust you more—or less, depending on one's perspective." The blue being rose from its place, approached Louai, and whispered in his ear in a voice no one else could hear: "Kasian has two spies in the palace. One in the secret postal office, and the other in the Imperial Guard. They plan to move their forces within three days, before you return to the capital. If you want to stay alive, you must move before then."
Louai felt a coldness run through his veins. He knew Kasian was planning something, but he hadn't expected two spies in such sensitive positions. This information was more valuable than he had anticipated, and it justified the risk he had taken.
"Thank you for the information," Louai said finally, rising from his chair. "I will remember this deal."
"We do not seek gratitude, Prince," the blue being said, returning to its place. "We seek information. But if you wish to return, you will know how to find us."
Louai left the building, with Dorik following silently behind. The underwater air was still heavy, but Louai felt a different weight now—the weight of the new knowledge he carried with him. He knew this information, whether true or false, would change his plan for the coming days.
"What did it say to you?" Dorik asked in a low voice, once they were far enough from the building.
"It told me Kasian has two spies in the palace," Louai replied, his voice calm but his eyes gleaming with cold determination. "One in the postal office, and the other in the Imperial Guard. He plans to move his forces within three days."
Dorik's single eye widened in astonishment. "Three days? That means before we return to the capital!"
"Exactly," Louai said, quickening his pace toward the exit. "We have less time than I thought. We must return to the ship and change our plan."
Louai and Dorik returned to the "Gray Seagull" in heavy silence, each lost in their own thoughts. When they climbed aboard, they found Gilbertt standing at the edge, looking at the horizon as if waiting for something. At the sight of them, a tense smile appeared on his face, but it faded when he saw their cold expressions.
"My Lord," Gilbertt said, his voice trembling, "has something happened? You both look..."
"Gilbertt," Louai interrupted, his voice calm but sharp as a knife, "how long have you been communicating with Kasian's men?"
Gilbertt froze for a moment, his eyes widening with pure terror. His face was pale as snow, his hands trembling uncontrollably. He tried to speak, but his voice caught in his throat.
"Don't deny it," Louai said, approaching his old scribe with slow steps, each step like a stab in the frightened man's heart. "I know everything. I know they threatened you with your daughter. I know you passed them information about my journey. The only question remaining is: will you continue to lie, or will you tell me the truth now?"
Gilbertt's composure crumbled, and tears began streaming down his wrinkled cheeks. He fell to his knees on the wooden deck and raised his hands as if begging.
"I'm sorry, My Lord," he said in a broken voice, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to betray you. But they threatened my daughter... they said they would kill her before my eyes if I didn't do what they asked. I couldn't refuse them, My Lord. I couldn't."
"And what did they ask of you?" Louai asked, his voice still cold.
"They only asked me to tell them when you departed and when you expected to return," Gilbertt said, weeping silently. "I didn't give them any details about your plans, My Lord. I swear I didn't. I would send them short messages: 'The Prince has left,' 'He hasn't returned yet.' That's all, My Lord. That's all I did."
Louai looked at his weeping old scribe, his eyes gleaming with suppressed anger. He knew the man was weak, but betrayal was betrayal, regardless of the reasons.
"Gilbertt," Louai said finally, his voice growing colder, "I will not kill you. Not because you deserve mercy, but because death would be a relief for you, and I do not wish to relieve you."
Gilbertt raised his tearful eyes toward Louai, trembling like a bird in a storm.
"You will stay alive," Louai continued, leaning close to Gilbertt's face, his voice becoming an icy whisper, "and you will continue working with me. But know this: if anyone betrays me again, I will know it was you. And it will not be your daughter who dies. I will make you watch her die slowly, then I will kill you after. Do you understand?"
Gilbertt trembled violently and nodded tearfully. "I understand, My Lord. I understand. I will not betray you again, I swear."
"Get up," Louai said coldly, "and wipe your tears. We have work to do."
Gilbertt rose with difficulty, wiped his face with his sleeve, and retreated to a corner of the ship, still trembling, leaving Louai and Dorik standing in silence.
Louai turned to Dorik and said in a quiet voice: "Change course. We are returning to Oswald immediately. We have only two days before the deadline expires."
Dorik looked at Louai with his single eye, a mixture of admiration and concern in it. "As you wish, Prince. But the route to Oswald is not safe, especially at this time of year."
"I know," Louai said, looking at the dark horizon, "but staying here is more dangerous. We will face whatever comes, and we will survive as we always have. With intelligence, not swords."
Dorik left to carry out the orders, leaving Louai alone on the deck, gazing at the dark sea undulating under the faint moonlight.
Louai stood silent for a full minute, contemplating the dark waters before him. Gilbertt was a traitor, but killing him now would have been a grave mistake. If Gilbertt died, Kasian would know that Louai had discovered his betrayal, and would move against him faster, perhaps changing his plans before Louai could return to the capital. But keeping him alive, under threat, meant Kasian would think Gilbertt was still working for him, and would continue to send the information Louai wanted him to send, without knowing it was misleading.
Gilbertt was a tool, not an enemy. And tools, in the hands of one who knows how to use them, can be deadlier than swords.
"Kasian," Louai murmured to himself in a barely audible voice, "you think you have an eye inside me. But you do not know that this eye will see what I want it to see, and convey what I want it to convey. I will make you see what does not exist, believe what is false, and move where I want you to move. And when you discover the truth, it will be too late."
He smiled a cold smile, then turned toward the horizon where the capital awaited him, and all his enemies with it...