Travelers

by Alia Hess

  “Owl—”

  “I don’t want to talk. I’m mad at you. And I’m mad at her.”

  “Why are you mad at me?” He blinked through a swollen eye. A streak of blood ran down his chin.

  She folded her arms, staring into the wall of the tent. “You were almost killed the other day trying to rescue Creek. Tonight, same thing. See a pattern here? I don’t know why you have to dash off to that girl’s rescue all the time. Let her take care of her own damn self. And I thought you were going to talk to her about toning down her flirtiness—”

  “I did—”

  “Well, it didn’t work. I’m starting to think maybe the feeling is mutual with the way you stare at her tits all the time—”

  “I’m not interested in her.” He let out an exasperated sigh and tried to slip his arms around her. She pushed him away. “I just… feel like I’m responsible for her now that she’s with us.”

  Owl’s lip quivered, her blood churning like the ocean. “Is that what you call it? You know, maybe you should be with Creek, since you’re obviously embarrassed about being with a trashbilly like me—”

  “Whoa, now wait a minute, I’m not embarrassed—”

  “Don’t tell me that. I see the way you look for spectators before you kiss me. How ashamed you were when Sweetbird asked you if we were twining.”

  “That’s not why—”

  “Forget it. I don’t want to talk anymore.” Owl climbed out of the tent, yanking her cloak off the ground and wrapping it around her. Her swollen nose pulsed with her heart as she stumbled through the sand and into the cliff’s tunnel.

  She cradled herself among the rocks, fuming. After a while, her anger dissolved into guilt, the guilt into tears. Everything she said was a lie—spewed out of anger and the frustration and fear of facing an unknown life. She’d blown up on the only person that cared about her.

  She walked slowly back to the tent. Trav lay on his back, an arm across his face; she climbed in next to him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t look at her, but opened his arms and drew her in. “Are you still mad?”

  “No. I’m just… scared—thinking about Nis, worrying about my parents. Everything. And trying to process all of that with Creek’s incessant flirting and stupid comments. It’s just too much. …Are you mad at me?”

  “A little.” He inhaled deeply into her hair. “But I love you. And I’m not embarrassed to be with you. I’m just worried about what people think of us. Worried for you.”

  “I’m sorry. I love you.” Her head rose up and down with Trav’s chest. “Are we okay?”

  “Other than my face? Yeah, we’re okay.”

  13 ~ Tradeship ~

  “The boat is almost here.”

  Owl opened her eyes and sat up. Despite Trav’s black eye and split lip, his face held a nervous excitement. Her own face throbbed. She didn’t want to pull out her mirror to look.

  “Everyone is packing up. Greatwind said we need to hurry, so we don’t have to wait in line for a long time.”

  Trav backed out of the tent and pulled it away. Bright sunlight hit Owl in the face. She squinted, brushing sand off her arms and getting dressed. A large, dark shape loomed on the horizon. Greatwind, Greenisle, Sweetbird, and Creek had their arms full of gear, heading around the cliff toward the main stretch of beach. Owl followed Trav, slogging through the sand in her boots.

  Many people were collecting their things and packing up. Owl walked past them, following Greatwind’s group to a long dock at the end of the beach. Quite a few people already crowded the narrow space. They pushed in next to the others, bodies and backpacks jostling against Owl. She peered around heads to glimpse the nearing ship. In her mind, it had been a smallish vessel with square, white sails. That image quickly dissolved as the huge, dark ship of intricately-carved wood cruised toward the dock. Bright yellow sails fanned into the sky like birds’ wings, and carvings of sea life—whales, fish, clams, and crabs—decorated the hull. Silhouettes of people peppered the upper deck.

  “It’s amazing, Trav.”

  “Wait ‘til we’re on it. I’m sure it will be even better. Have you been on a ship before?”

  “No.”

  Trav grinned awkwardly through his injured mouth.

  People jostled Owl and she leaned into Trav, cringing. She tapped Greatwind on the shoulder, and he turned around. “Where are all the merchants and caravans and stuff? Surely this can’t be everyone for this huge ship.”

  “No, no. This is just the passengers’ side. All of the merchants are on the main dock. It’s around the side of this cliff. Greenisle and I don’t have much to take back with us, so we use this dock. We won’t have to wait in line as long.”

  After about ten more minutes of being bumped around in the crowd, the line started moving. Greenisle looked back at Creek, Trav, and Owl. “Be sure to stick with us so we can vouch for you. Otherwise, you’ll have to pay.”

  “I thought we needed all our tins to get on,” Owl said.

  Trav leaned into her. “Greatwind told me yesterday that if we got on with him, we don’t have to pay. I didn’t ask for details.”

  The line crept forward until Greatwind, Greenisle, and Sweetbird were in front. A man stood next to the open door, ushering in passengers; when he saw Greenisle, his face brightened.

  “Hey, Greenisle! How’s business?”

  “Good! Coming back with our pockets full.” He pulled a large vial of white powder from his pocket and slipped it into the usher’s hand as they shook. The man didn’t look at it, sliding it into his pocket as if nothing had happened.

  “I see you brought your wife and Greatwind this time too.”

  “Yes, and some other friends too.” Greenisle gestured to Owl’s group.

  “These three here?” Greenisle nodded and the usher said, “Okay, very good. Head on in. And Greatwind! Man, we need to catch up! Where were you last time?”

  Greatwind stood in the doorway, talking, while the rest of them shuffled past into the ship. From behind, the usher shouted, “Hello! Are you together? Five hundred tins, please.”

  They followed Greenisle and Sweetbird through the dimly-lit halls into a deeper area of the ship. After many turns, Greenisle eventually stopped before a numbered door. He unlocked it and the door next to it.

  “We are in the merchants’ quarters. These are our two rooms. I usually use one, and Greatwind the other, but you guys can take that one and Greatwind can stay with us.”

  “That sounds fine.” Owl pushed opened the door, revealing a small, windowless room with four bunks.

  Creek glanced at Trav, then looked at Greenisle. “I’ll stay in here with you guys.”

  They entered their room, and Owl set her pack on one of the single bunks affixed to the wall. “I’m shocked that Creek didn’t want to be in here with you.”

  “Yeah, well… that’s probably because I yelled at her this morning.” Trav flopped onto another bunk.

  “You did?”

  He sighed. “Yeah. She tried to kiss me, and I called her a homewrecker and told her to grow up.”

  Owl swallowed her anger like bitter medicine—all at once and hoping not to taste it on the way down. She sat next to him. “She didn’t look too happy this morning. Finally got the point across, I guess.”

  Trav stared at her. “That’s it? I thought you’d be a lot madder.”

  “I’m tired of being mad. Tired of”— she looked at her shoes—“being in a juvenile pissing contest with some girl that can’t be older than seventeen. I just want to move on—get on with my new life.”

  He kissed her temple. “Speaking of, I was thinking we can either just pick a place to camp out or stay with my uncle when we get there. He’s got a big house and I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  “Is your uncle your mom’s brother, or…?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is your aunt?”

  “Eh, she decided after having all those kids that she deserved her o
wn happiness and left the island with a guy half her age. They live on Tam now. My uncle says she never wanted that many kids.”

  “I don’t blame her. That doesn’t justify her running off, but I wouldn’t want eight kids.”

  “Only seven, then?”

  Owl laughed and elbowed him. “So when we get there, do I have to call you Son of Mossflower?”

  “No. A lot of people who don’t have their names yet go by nicknames instead. Trav can be mine.” He shut his eyes. “I hope Elder Redcloud knows why the mushrooms didn’t give me a vision. No one has ever screwed up their naming quest like that before. They either come back with their vision or don’t come back at all.”

  “Have there been a lot of people that never came back?”

  “A few. Nis knows the Mainland is dangerous, but that’s sort of the point. You earn your name by surviving and making it back.”

  Owl leaned back on the bed. “No offense, but that seems kind of dumb. Sending young people who have no experience with the Mainland off their island by themselves, knowing full well that it’s dangerous and they could be killed. Why not do your naming quest on the island and get rid of some of the risk? Why does it have to be dangerous?”

  “You’ve never done something stupid and dangerous just to prove that you could?” Trav propped his head on his arm, looking at her. “Besides, only a few people have died while trying to complete their quest. Nisians can take care of themselves pretty well. The other Islanders too. Creek is an exception…”

  “So what happens when someone doesn’t come back?”

  “If they haven’t returned after six months, the island mourns them and has a departure ceremony.”

  “So, is that what they would have done for you?”

  “Yep.” His expression was unreadable.

  The door to the room opened, and Greatwind walked in. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t know you guys were in here. I usually stay in this room.”

  “It’s fine.” Owl sat up. “Greenisle told us we could stay in here. He said you might stay in the other room with him, but it doesn’t matter, does it Trav?”

  Trav shook his head.

  “I’ll stay with Greenisle.” Greatwind grinned. “I don’t want to cramp your style. Besides, I might find some nice Mainland girl’s bed to stay in anyway. But I don’t know if I have the luck you have, Trav.”

  Trav laughed and pointed to his face. “Does this look lucky?”

  Greatwind wiggled his eyebrows. “Well, I will let you two get back to what you were… doing.” He turned to leave. Suddenly, the ship lurched forward. He grabbed the doorframe to steady himself, and Trav fell out of the little bunk onto the floor.

  “Wow, smooth sailing, yeah?” Greatwind laughed as Trav picked himself up.

  “Sheesh. I thought it would take longer for us to get going,” Owl commented.

  “Nah, these guys are always in a hurry. They don’t like waiting around. If people are late, it’s too bad for them. We’ll be to Pearlolla early tomorrow at this rate.” Greatwind kept his hand on the doorframe as the ship started moving, then steadied himself and walked out, closing the door behind him.

  Trav sat on the bed again as Owl said, “Pearlolla tomorrow… Then how long will it take to get to Nis?”

  “Not long.”

  “Do a lot of people go back and forth between Pearlolla and Nis?”

  “Not really. The two islands don’t have a lot of contact with each other. Quite a few years ago, Pearlolla wanted to start building houses and shops on Nis, because there is a lot of unused land, but Nis wanted nothing to do with it. They don’t even like to trade with them. I think Pearlolla realized that Nis just wants to be antisocial and left alone. The two islands aren’t hostile to each other or anything. And the Elders communicate. But in a way, the cultures are much different from each other.”

  They swayed with the ship’s movement. “I wish there was a window in here. I want to see out.”

  “Let’s go up to the deck then.” Trav stood up. She followed him from the room, trying to balance herself with the ship’s motion. The sensation was unnerving and made her queasy. People milled about in the hallway, Greatwind included. He stood in the open doorway of Greenisle’s room, talking to some people. He said the word “party,” and she shook her head.

  “How do we get to the top deck?” Trav asked him.

  “Go down this hall and take a left. Follow it all the way to the end and take the stairs up.”

  They squeezed past people, following the narrow hallway to the end and turning into another dim passage. Even after adjusting to the ship’s motion, Owl’s stomach didn’t feel any better. They eventually climbed the stairs and emerged on the upper deck. The huge yellow sails rippled in the wind, and salty mist blew in her face as the ship glided over the water.

  Trav took her hand and led her to the railing. They pushed into an open spot between passengers. Choppy blue-green water sloshed and churned under a bright blue sky filled with fat clouds. A chilly wind blew around them.

  On the horizon, a thin dark line stretched between the water and sky. “Is that the coast we just left?”

  “I think so.” Trav pulled out his spectacles.

  Surrealness overcame her. That was the Mainland—America—the only ground she’d ever walked. All her experiences, memories, and people she knew were on the dark line slowly being swallowed by the horizon. Despite Trav next to her, she felt utterly alone and helpless. She may as well have been dropped onto the moon.

  This is the right choice. It’s what I want. I’m going to be happy with Trav—happy living on the Islands.

  “You look pale.” Trav frowned, searching her face. “Reality hitting you?”

  “I’m fine.” She squeezed the railing, the line at the horizon growing thinner.

  “You know, when I first left for the Mainland, it was scary, being by myself in the unknown. But it’ll go away. And you’re not by yourself. I’m actually feeling more excited than nervous now that we’re here. Things are getting more familiar for me.”

  “I feel queasy.” Owl sat on the deck with her back against the railing. “I don’t know if it’s because I’m nervous, or from the movement of the ship, or maybe I ate something bad yesterday…”

  “Motion sickness. Let’s go back downstairs and I’ll make you some tea.”

  Her stomach didn’t feel any better the next day as they stood on the upper deck as Pearlolla came into view. She was eager to get off the damn S.S. Nausea and onto some solid ground. The cool ocean breeze blew in her face as the big island grew near. High rocky cliffs coated in bright green vegetation jutted to the sky, and teal water lapped at yellow sand beaches. Mountainous terrain in the island’s center gave way to a volcano shrouded in white clouds. Clumps of garbage drifted in the water near the coastline, and pieced-together shacks hung precariously from the cliff walls and even sat on stilts in the shallow water near the beach. Further inland were more hovels stacked and jumbled up next to each other.

  Greatwind stood near Owl, watching the space between the ship and the island grow smaller. “You guys want to come to town for a bit? We live in Cowrie. We could have lunch. Hang out. You could take a boat later to Nis.”

  Trav looked at Owl, sunlight reflecting off his spectacles. “You want to do that? I kind of just want to get home, but—”

  Owl nodded. “I think we’re both pretty nervous about getting to Nis, and we’re so close now… I really appreciate your hospitality, though.”

  Greatwind nodded. “Understood. But if you’re ever in Cowrie, look us up. Just go to G and G’s Fish Shop, and you’ll find us.”

  “Thanks.” Owl stood awkwardly by as Trav shook hands with their friends. Creek broke away from her new group of teenage companions to say goodbye to the Pearlollans.

  “We’d better get downstairs. I’m sure there is already a huge line,” Greenisle said. They turned from the deck railing and walked down the stairs to the ship’s belly. Owl glanced at Creek, then turned her
attention back to the view. Trav bumped her with his shoulder.

  “Look at all that garbage in the water. Aren’t you glad I don’t live there?”

  “Yes. Definitely. Why is it so crowded and dirty? This looks like a big island. Why can’t people spread out and build proper houses?”

  “A lot of the inland is mountain. It’s too rocky for building houses or growing crops. Nis is like that too, but they’re more conscientious about what kind of houses they build and where. And they don’t throw their garbage all over the place.” He laughed. “I can’t even imagine what Elder Redcloud would do if people were doing that on Nis. But we respect the land much more than Pearlollans. I mean, you have to. It’s where you live. If you mess it up, where are you going to go? Pearlolla learned that the hard way. I haven’t been there much, but if I recall, some towns like Cowrie aren’t too bad. That’s where the better off people live, so they have nicer houses and clean water.”

  The ship eventually rounded the island’s side, reaching an area somewhat cleaner and better maintained than the previous one. Square houses in reds and blues spread out from a large road ascending from the beach. The ship stopped at the dock. Many people milled about on the beach, and children, some wearing nothing at all, splashed about in the water.

  Trav leaned on the deck railing and pointed. “See that volcano? It’s called Thunderclap.”

  “What’s the volcano on Nis called?”

  “Foxtail. That’s what my village is called too. There’re two villages—Foxtail and Serpent. But they’re both small, so we only have one Elder for the island.”

  “When you get there, I bet word will travel fast, huh?”

  Trav laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty hard to miss.”

  They stood at the deck railing for a while as passengers left and new ones boarded. Owl tried to spot their Pearlollan friends on the ground below, but there were too many people, and she couldn’t see them. Creek sat with her friends beyond the crowds on the deck. The other girls were probably from Tam and also on their naming quests. They leaned against the deck railing, tired and road-worn faces tilted toward the ocean spray. How did they manage to carry out their quests with the developing army in the North? Maybe they’d failed too.