Coughing and hacking, Wrest pulled his hood over his eyes and backed away from a cloud of opaque smoke. He and Arcite crouched together in a shadowy nook two hulls away. “What was that?” Wrest asked.
“Another trick I came up with as a lad.”
A conch note resounded, muffled by distance. Wrest heard a second from somewhere closer.
“Emaria.” Wrest checked the moon. “It’s time.”
“Come on!” Arcite said, as they broke into a run. “I wanna be on that vessel!”
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The Glass Thief 