Northport was a city of contrasts. As the Sea Witch navigated into the harbor, Dust could see the gleaming merchant quarter with its fine stone buildings rising above the waterfront, while smoke from countless chimneys in the workers' districts darkened the sky beyond. It was larger than Port Cray, busier than Lower Ashmark, and somehow felt more urgent—as if the entire city was perpetually rushing toward some important deadline.
"Welcome to the trading heart of the northern kingdoms," Captain Aldrich said, joining Dust at the rail. "Every major trade route passes through here eventually. Goods from the southern spice islands, furs from the northern forests, steel from the mountain kingdoms—it all flows through Northport."
The harbor itself was a maze of ships from dozens of nations. Dust counted flags he didn't recognize, vessel types he'd never seen, and heard languages that sounded like music to his untrained ear. Sailors, merchants, dock workers, and officials moved in a complex dance of commerce that somehow managed to function despite appearing completely chaotic.
"We'll be here a week," Aldrich continued. "Unloading our cargo, taking on new goods, and giving the ship a proper maintenance. Crew gets shore leave on rotation, starting tonight."
As they secured the Sea Witch at her assigned berth, Dust noticed a woman waiting on the dock. She was middle-aged, well-dressed but practical, with the kind of sharp eyes that missed nothing. When she spotted Captain Aldrich, she waved and approached the ship.
"Captain!" she called. "Permission to come aboard?"
"Granted, Merchant Delaine. Always a pleasure to see you."
The woman climbed the gangplank with practiced ease—clearly someone comfortable around ships and sailors. She greeted Aldrich warmly, then her gaze swept the crew until it settled on Dust.
"You must be the young man Elena wrote about," she said, approaching with a smile. "I'm Cassandra Delaine, an old friend of the Ravencrest family."
Dust was surprised. "Elena wrote about me?"
"Indeed. She said I might expect a sailor named Dust who was... how did she put it... 'eager to learn and worthy of assistance.'" Merchant Delaine's tone was warmly amused. "High praise from Elena—she's quite selective about the people she recommends."
"I didn't know she'd written ahead."
"The Ravencrests have extensive business connections. Elena knew you'd be coming to Northport eventually." Delaine studied him appraisingly. "She mentioned you were learning to read and write. How are those studies progressing?"
"Better than I hoped," Dust replied honestly. "Though I still have a long way to go."
"Excellent. Because I have a proposition for you, if you're interested."
Captain Aldrich cleared his throat. "Perhaps this conversation would be better conducted somewhere more private? My cabin's available if you need it."
"Actually," Delaine said, "I was hoping to invite young Dust to dinner. There's someone I'd like him to meet—someone who might be able to help with his education."
Dust looked to Captain Aldrich, uncertain. The captain nodded encouragingly.
"Go ahead, lad. Merchant Delaine's reputation is impeccable, and Elena's recommendation carries weight." Aldrich paused. "Just remember what we discussed about permanent positions. The Sea Witch sails in a week."
An hour later, Dust found himself in Merchant Delaine's well-appointed home in Northport's merchant quarter. The building was elegant but comfortable, filled with books, maps, and artifacts from what were clearly extensive travels.
"I deal primarily in information," Delaine explained over an excellent dinner. "Trade routes, political situations, market conditions—knowledge that helps merchants avoid problems and find opportunities. It's lucrative work for someone with the right connections."
"It sounds fascinating," Dust said, though he wasn't entirely sure where the conversation was heading.
"Elena mentioned you have... shall we say, an unconventional background? Street experience that gave you skills most educated people lack?"
Dust nodded cautiously.
"Those skills, combined with education and the right training, could be quite valuable. There's always need for people who can move easily between different social levels, who understand both the street and the drawing room."
Before Dust could respond, the dining room door opened and another person entered—a man of perhaps thirty years with the lean build of someone who stayed physically active. His clothes were well-made but unremarkable, and he moved with a quiet confidence that reminded Dust of the best pickpockets he'd known in Lower Ashmark.
"Ah, perfect timing," Delaine said. "Dust, I'd like you to meet Master Gareth Thornwick. Gareth, this is the young man Elena wrote about."
Thornwick studied Dust with intelligent gray eyes. "Pleased to meet you," he said, his accent cultured but carrying hints of rougher origins. "Cassandra tells me you're interested in expanding your education."
"Among other things," Dust replied carefully. Something about Thornwick put him on alert—not danger exactly, but the sense that this man was more than he appeared.
"Gareth teaches at a very specialized school," Delaine explained. "One that focuses on practical skills rather than theoretical knowledge. Students learn languages, mathematics, geography, history—but with an emphasis on real-world application."
"What kind of real-world application?" Dust asked.
Thornwick smiled slightly. "The kind that prepares graduates for careers in diplomacy, trade negotiation, and information gathering. We teach people to move confidently in any environment, to read situations quickly, and to adapt to changing circumstances."
The description was vague, but something in Thornwick's manner suggested layers of meaning Dust wasn't catching. It sounded like legitimate education, but with an edge that reminded him of the more sophisticated criminals he'd encountered in Lower Ashmark's upper districts.
"Where is this school?" Dust asked.
"About fifty miles north of here, in the Thornwick Valley. A private institution with a very selective admission process." Thornwick paused. "Elena's recommendation carries considerable weight, but we'd still need to assess your potential properly."
"What would that involve?"
"A series of tests—some academic, some practical. We'd want to see how you handle complex problems, how quickly you learn new skills, how well you work under pressure." Thornwick's eyes never left Dust's face. "Are you interested in taking those tests?"
Dust felt the weight of decision pressing down on him. Captain Aldrich's offer to remain with the Sea Witch was honest and straightforward—continue sailing, see the world, earn steady wages doing work he'd proven capable of. But this new possibility was something else entirely—a chance at education and opportunities he could barely imagine.
"What happens if I pass your tests?" he asked.
"Three years of intensive education, room and board provided, and guaranteed placement in a career appropriate to your abilities upon graduation." Delaine leaned forward slightly. "It's quite an opportunity, Dust. The kind most people never get."
"And if I fail?"
"Then you return to whatever path you were already following, with no harm done," Thornwick said. "Though I should mention—Elena's assessment of your potential was quite positive. She has excellent judgment about people."
The mention of Elena decided him. She'd shown him kindness and friendship when she had no obligation to do either. If she thought this opportunity was worth pursuing, it deserved serious consideration.
"I'd like to take the tests," Dust said.
"Excellent," Thornwick smiled, and for the first time it seemed genuinely warm rather than merely polite. "We can begin tomorrow morning, if that suits you. The assessment typically takes three days."
"I'll need to arrange things with Captain Aldrich first."
"Of course. Professional obligations should always be honored." Thornwick rose from his chair. "I'll expect you at the Merchant's Guild hall tomorrow at eight. Ask for the Thornwick Assessment Suite—they'll know what you mean."
After Thornwick left, Delaine refilled Dust's wine glass and settled back in her chair with a thoughtful expression.
"You're wondering what you've just gotten yourself into," she observed.
"The thought had occurred to me."
"Gareth's school is legitimate, though unconventional. They produce graduates who go on to very successful careers in trade, diplomacy, and government service. But they're also quite selective—perhaps one applicant in twenty is accepted."
"What makes the difference?"
"Intelligence, adaptability, and what Gareth calls 'practical wisdom'—the ability to navigate complex situations without losing sight of larger goals." Delaine studied him over her wine glass. "Elena believes you have those qualities. The question is whether you believe it strongly enough to risk the testing."
That night, lying in a comfortable guest room in Delaine's house, Dust stared at the ceiling and considered his options. The safe choice was to return to the Sea Witch, continue his life as a sailor, and accept the limitations that came with that path.
The risky choice was to trust Elena's judgment and his own growing sense that he was capable of more than he'd previously imagined.
Outside his window, Northport continued its restless commercial dance, money and goods and information flowing through the city like blood through a great organism. Somewhere in that flow, opportunities waited for those bold enough to seize them.
The question was: was he ready to be that bold?