Dead reckoning, p.17
Dead Reckoning, page 17
The other was in the port side of the stern. One of the older pirates told me that this was typically used as a brig, though it wasn’t inherently any more secure than the ship’s other compartments. Here, I knew, was where our shuen captive was kept. I had even less interest in this room, as my previous run-ins with Thranax and his strange magic had not been my favorite moments. Lagash visited this space on occasion, and I knew Lori entered to deliver meals. I heard from my crewmates that Thaitheoir, who’d become a specter haunting the ship, went in and out of that brig at all hours of the day and night. I knew he’d gone ashore after us back at the first trial, but my questions about his mission and what he was doing with the shuen captive went unanswered. Ulysses soon convinced me that was for the best, given my “situation.”
At some point most afternoons, Tehenessey Blue would appear at my side. The marii had become extra nervous, even for him. His eyes darted back and forth furtively. He constantly rubbed his palms together, exposing and retracting his claws. His bushy tail remained tucked between his legs, and he’d allowed his fur to become tufted and disheveled. When any of us tried to offer help or reassurance, he dismissed us with an insult.
The marii was, to put it lightly, shaken up.
“The World Song did not like that” became a common refrain. “I should’ve stopped. I wanted to stop. I couldn’t stop. If I had found a way to stop, it would’ve been the end of everything.”
I remember one time he grabbed me by my vest and pulled my face so close to his I could feel the little hairs on the tip of his snout brushing my nose. “I don’t care what Davanon says,” he hissed. “That song was written by the rutting Fae.”
I believed him, because what other explanation was there? What other kind of song could transform a stone tablet into a gear made of some unidentified metal, waylay a halfling with a Fae mother, and leave a master musician feeling like he’d insulted reality itself? Davanon continued to insist, however, that the Fae had lost their ability to make music a very long time ago, if they’d ever been able to at all.
As for our daily schedule, by the time dinner came, everyone was tired of the work and tired of each other and tired of life at sea. Conversation here was muted, with occasional flare ups due to disagreements or general malaise. This, the old timers assured me as they passed around the bottles of liquor that dulled it all, was just how long voyages went.
Though I was given ample opportunity to wash the days away with liquor—and often considered it—I quickly decided I was not going to fall into that trap. Every day after dinner I headed above to enjoy the waning hours of Diuntyne up in the bow. This time of silvery twilight, always my favorite part of the day, became a refuge from the monotony and the politics and the mysteries. Here, I could sit, and I could look, and I could think about everything or nothing at all—whatever I needed at the time.
Even out at sea, tracing the dull green and brown mass that was the southeastern and then the eastern side of the continent, Diuntyne was a time of delicate beauty. No, Besnik, not like that waitress last night.
Nicolette soon picked up on my evening ritual and joined me. Every night, we’d sit in the bow, staring at the big moon, watching the silver plankton glow, keeping an eye out for the sailfish that would occasionally leap out ahead of the boat. Sometimes we saw flashes of light on the mainland, and we’d wonder out loud whether they were settlements carving a life out of the wilderness or something altogether stranger.
Sometimes, we would say nothing at all, and just enjoy the reassuring atmosphere of each other’s company.
Other times, she’d ask me about my life in Brennik’s Reach, about Grandfather, and our work as healers, and our neighbors, and my dreams of leaving to learn more about my trade at a fancy school. I spoke easily about all of it, even Mahlly, although I always had to work around a lump in my throat whenever she came up.
And once I’d worked up the nerve, I asked Nicolette about her own history. She told me about her childhood, and her parents, the pain of their death, the confusion and frustration with her new life in her uncle’s household. She seemed happiest when telling me about her secret excursions out into the countryside, lingering on the people she met and the hard work she accomplished. I even asked about Rensalier, as I felt some responsibility to get to know the boy I had inadvertently injured. She was quick to reassure me that she bore no grudge and that it hadn’t been my fault. Eventually, I came to believe her.
It was nice.
We had visitors, but not often, and typically not for long. Elenwe stopped by the most; she seemed to enjoy the quiet respite from the chaos of her duties, both to the ship and to her people. Belga visited too, mostly when she wanted to leave Rindge to a bottle.
And one night, about halfway through that leg of our voyage, we were joined by the first mate himself, Ulysses Lagash.
It was late, and we were about to turn in when we heard his staggering footsteps approaching. A nearly empty bottle of liquor dangled precariously from his fingertips. He’d left his coat in the galley, and without it the man looked emaciated; he’d managed to put a little weight back on since the aftermath of his run-in with L’Vaillee, but not all that he’d lost. I could tell from the manic glint in his eye that whatever he wanted to talk about was going to be difficult.
“We were just about to retire,” Nicolette said with a smile, clearly sensing the same and attempting to defuse it.
“I just need…a few…a few…moments of your time, friends,” he stammered.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked.
“Opinions. Yours. I need ’em.”
“On what?” I asked, hoping I’d kept the anxiety out of my voice.
He looked down at his feet sheepishly. “I don’t know what to choose.”
“In regard to what?”
He continued staring down as he twisted his left boot back and forth in a small arc. “People like me…with parents from different worlds…we have to pick one. One lineage. It’s…it’s a thing, inside of us, a need. I didn’t want to choose, so I ignored mine. But I can’t do that anymore.” He looked up at me. “Not if I want to be of use.”
Then it clicked: Ulysses wanted to do something about his vulnerability to the mysterious music Lucifus had left behind. “You are always useful, my friend,” I said, and meant it.
“But…you might need me. Like, really…really need me,” he slurred. “I dragged you into this. I need to see you throw…thorough…through it.”
I had never heard anything so endearing, and I took a few moments to think about my response so I could give Ulysses the consideration he deserved. “We will get each other through this,” I said. “I couldn’t wish for a better companion on this journey.”
“But what if…what if you can’t do the next one?” The alcohol was clearly in control. “Or! Or what if…what if we get through all the trials, and then there’s the treasure, and I can’t even touch it?”
Before I could respond, he stumbled toward Nicolette. “What do you think? Who should I be?”
She shook her head. “I think you should just be you.”
“That’s not the q-q-question!” he snapped. “What would make you like me better? Would you like me more if I were more lij? What if I were more Fae?”
Nicolette leaned away, her discomfort clear on her face. “If you feel you must choose, then we will all like you just the same either way,” she said carefully.
“But which one?” he said, stumbling so close to Nicolette that I worried he would fall on top of her.
I stood up so I could catch him if I needed to. He did not like that.
“Hey!” he growled around his liquor-fattened tongue. “I get to talk to her too. Y-you’re not the only one that gets to talk to her.”
I raised my hands in what I hoped was a placating gesture. “You can talk to Nicolette whenever you like. You just look a little unsteady right now.”
“Unssss-steady?” he said, now swaying even worse. Nicolette remained seated but raised her hands just in case she needed to catch him. “I’m not unssssssteady! You’re unssssssteady!”
I flashed back to some of the arguments I’d had with the other children in Brennik’s Reach back when I was a boy. Funny how alcohol can make us act so much younger but look and move so much older. “Ulysses, I—”
“Whatever,” he replied, windmilling his arms. “You got the others fooled, but I know this is…this is just ssssome big game to you! This ship? It’s our life, Kensey. It’s not a vacation, or some fun quest. It’s our life. You get it?”
“Yes. I get it. And I try to approach it all with the utmost respect.”
He grunted, then turned back to Nicolette. “What should I be?” he asked her again. “Tell me what will make you like me more.”
“That’s enough!” a familiar voice commanded. I’m not sure exactly where Loridgid came from, but she stomped across that deck as if she’d been shot out of one the ship’s cannons. She snatched the bottle out of the stunned first mate’s hand, took a swig, and then hurled what was left into the sea.
“Now the rum is gone,” the first mate said dejectedly.
He winced in pain as Lori took firm hold of his ear. “It’s time for bed, Ulysses. I know you’re stressed, but I also know you don’t want to ruin your friends’ evening. Quit being a jerk, sleep it off, and make a rutting decision already. We’re all behind you, you fool.”
“Yes ma’am,” he muttered as she dragged him away. He waved weakly to us. “Sssssorrrrrrry…”
Nicolette stood and brushed herself off. Together, we watched Lori pull Ulysses across the deck and down into the hold. I couldn’t have been more relieved.
“She’s amazing,” I said.
Nicolette nodded. “And if he doesn’t get his act together, we’re going to have a problem.”
— CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE —
For several days after, there was no sign of Ulysses. I started to get worried; despite his drunken outburst, he was my friend, and I wanted him to know that I wasn’t holding a grudge over it.
Eventually, I asked Lori. “He’s talking to the engine,” she said. “I bring him his meals, then I lock the door behind me—at his request.”
No, Besnik, I don’t know where or how often he was using the head. I had more important questions in mind. Like, how would talking to the engine help him choose between his bloodlines? How could the engine talk at all? Was it a good conversationalist?
And, above all, did I have to worry that Ulysses spending time chatting up the engine meant it wasn’t running? Thranax and L’Vaillee were still pursuing us, I was sure. Those few days we had little wind felt like weeks unto themselves.
When the first mate finally emerged, he was all smiles once more. Though he still seemed a bit too skinny and frail, he stood straighter and seemed lighter. I was stowing a rope and didn’t realize he was sneaking up on me until his hand clapped my shoulder. When I saw who it was, my heart leapt into my throat. I truly didn’t know what this reunion would hold.
“I’m ready to assist you again, my friend!” he crowed. “I’ve made my choice, and I’m feeling great about it!”
“Well,” I said, stalling as I floundered to find the right words. “That’s good to hear. I’m happy for you, Ulysses, and it’ll be nice having you around once more.”
“Agreed, friend, agreed! Lucifus’s next trial truly doesn’t know what’s coming for it!”
With that he ambled off, shaking hands with a few other old timers as he went. Though I had a million questions, I’d clearly been dismissed. I decided not to take it personally. In hindsight, perhaps I should’ve seen it as a warning. Nicolette hadn’t been reassured, either with what I said or her own first meeting with the new Ulysses.
I became even more worried when the engine remained unused. I couldn’t get a straight answer as to why. The others became similarly concerned.
“We can’t right now,” the captain finally told me, “but we’ll have it when we really need it.”
I had to trust Lagash. He’d gotten me that far.
Before we knew it, we’d reached the site of the second trial. From what I understood, we were just off the northeastern tip of the continent, in a sea known as the Jie Meng. There still had not been a sighting of the taishu I was sure still followed us.
We weighed anchor just outside a small bay surrounded by rugged mountains. The air here was cooler and less humid than what I had grown used to in the south. Though it made the day’s work easier, I can’t say I liked the sensation. As we’d neared the location, many of us had taken to wearing longer sleeves or additional layers, especially at night.
Just like we had at the first trial, we spent a day and a night waiting and observing the shore. Nothing and no one moved on that rocky coastline. The land, as far as we could tell, looked dead.
Not long before Diun set, Lagash summoned the usual group to his quarters. Lori joined us this time; she’d been watching Ulysses like a hawk since his reemergence, and she remained his shadow during this meeting.
The captain wasted no time. “We’ll send the same team as last time, with one change: Loridgid will be taking Davanon’s place.”
Ulysses elbowed me. “She promised she’d have both our heads if I were allowed to leave her sight.” Beside him, Lori winked.
“And I think it wise for at least one of our engineers to remain on the ship. Thaitheoir will once again be free to investigate as he sees fit,” Lagash continued. “A second team, led by Belga, will go ashore the morning after the first group, just in case additional support is needed.”
This was met with a round of nods. That change was appreciated; having backup proved helpful last time around, even though that hadn’t been the plan from the outset.
“There is one more thing I must show you,” the captain said at the end of his briefing. “Follow me to the deck.”
We did as told, and then we gathered around Lagash in the stern behind the pilot’s box. He pointed toward a distant stretch of the bright blue sky. “That dot has been following us for the last week,” he said.
If I squinted, I could just see what he was talking about: a brown smudge in the sky, wider horizontally than it was vertically. “Any idea what we’re looking at?” I asked.
“It’s remained outside the range of our spyglass,” Davanon replied.
“I’m sure it’s just our pal, Thranax,” Ulysses quipped merrily, “riding atop a giant seagull.”
“I don’t like it,” Elenwe said, spitting over the rail. “Nothing that size belongs in the sky.”
Lagash turned extra serious. “If we weren’t being otherwise pursued, I’d consider leading it on a little longer to see what it does. As things stand, we can’t wait for it to reveal its intentions. In the meantime, remain vigilant, and remember that I will not put this ship at unnecessary risk. The teams going ashore will be sent with extra provisions in the event the Black Yonnix must flee.”
Nicolette and I traded an anxious glance. I didn’t like the idea of being left behind. Not while Thranax and L’Vaillee were still out there somewhere.
Ulysses bent down and put his face close to my chest. “Thranax, old chum, if that’s you up there, bob up and down three times to let us know.”
Most of us laughed. I snickered. We all watched the speck, which didn’t react.
“What if it comes for us instead of the ship?” Blue asked. I liked that possibility even less than the chance we’d be marooned.
“Then you will handle it,” Lagash said. “If that means returning to the Black Yonnix, then do so with haste.”
I can’t say I slept well that night.
That morning, before departing the Black Yonnix, we gathered to open Lucifus’s journal. Once again, it was strangely warm. I set it down on the deck, and a convenient gust of wind ruffled the pages until they settled upon a stretch of glowing text.
“For Brindt, my second son, for whom no one was enough.” The glow faded when I finished my translation.
“I do not like your family,” Elenwe said to me, quite bluntly.
“Luckily for us, the Vardallian stock improved over time, like a fine wine,” Ulysses said, clapping me on the back.
“What do we think this might mean for the trial?” Nicolette asked. “Kensey solved Hersche’s by giving something of value away—a small act, to be sure, but one she would’ve been very unlikely to perform.”
“That trial was built as a test for his daughter,” I said. “It was like he wanted her to prove she could change.”
“It would be unwise to assume this next trial will be like the first,” Lagash said. “Be prepared for anything. Lucifus has certainly proven to be a clever man.”
Soon after, we headed ashore. This time, we each carried a pack with a bedroll and a few days of food and water. Lagash insisted I also take the mysterious gear, much to Davanon’s distress. With that and the journal, we’d be as prepared as possible. The mah’saiid looked at me sideways and then walked off grumbling when I promised I wouldn’t lose it.
The lack of a welcoming committee as we’d seen with the Elei’i meant we didn’t know whether the land was hospitable. After the treachery involved in our last adventure, I felt slightly relieved by the lack of obvious habitation. I hoped we’d be able to get in and get out without dealing with strangers sticking their noses in our business.
That short trip in the longboat marked the first time in a long time I’d seen Thaitheoir for more than a few moments. The gangly Fae looked distracted, as if he were trying to piece together a billion different problems all at once.
“How are you doing?” I asked him, even though I knew he couldn’t speak at length about his work with Thranax listening.
“I am well,” he replied. He blinked a few times, as if clearing his mind so he could focus on the world around him rather than his racing thoughts. “I am enjoying our journey more than I expected.”
“I am glad to hear that. Please let me know if there’s anything I can assist with while we’re ashore.”
He looked down at the bottom of the boat for a moment. “Thank you. I…regret that I was unable to assist you with the weidt. It pleases me that you overcame her treachery.”
