by C. Greenwood
My inquiries with the owner let me know the man I was looking for wasn’t present. But he had only recently left, and I might still catch him out back if I hurried. I took the exit indicated and found myself in something like an empty alley, lined on either side by the backs of other buildings. Behind the gambling den were heaps of rubbish, old empty barrels, and stacks of rotting storage crates.
At first, I thought I was alone. But as my eyes adjusted to my unlit surroundings, I realized there was a small group clustered at the other end of the alley. Oblivious to my approach, they seemed to be quarreling among themselves. Pieces of their angry discussion drifted to me on the night breeze. Several of the men were dressed like the rough sailors and pirates I had left back at The Blue Mermaid. Only one had the look of a local, a young man in a leather vest, whose three-cornered hat pulled low over his brow made it difficult to see his face.
Although I couldn’t see his expression, his posture and the way the others had him backed against a wall made it clear he was in trouble.
I wanted no part of any fight. Ordinarily I would have turned around and walked away. But then a bit of their conversation fell upon my ears.
“Ye shouldn’t have failed us, Seastrider. If ye’d delivered the crew as promised, we wouldn’t have to haul you off in their place.”
At the name of Seastrider, I froze. Was this young man who stood cornered like an animal the very one I searched for?
Even as I hesitated, the outnumbered fellow tried to make a run for it. He was easily snagged by the others and shoved roughly back into the wall. One of the sailors gestured angrily with a dagger.
I couldn’t stand here and watch the man I had come looking for, my only link to my mother’s kin, be murdered right before my eyes. I had to save him.
The sailor’s voices grew louder and the dagger was raised, moonlight glinting off its sharp blade. There was no time to think, no chance to plan.
I gave a loud yell that I hoped sounded like a blood-chilling battle cry and charged toward the end of the alley, my spear leveled at the sailors. My enemies turned to stare, looking more surprised than afraid. I must have made a startling sight, barreling down the alleyway, shrieking and waving my spear.
For a brief moment, I had them distracted. Their prisoner used that opportunity to duck out of the hold of the man gripping his collar. But the next rough sailor barring his escape wasn’t so easily eluded. He took his attention from me to turn on the young man, drawing a short sword, as if intending to kill his victim rather than let him escape.
I arrived just in time to dive between the vicious sailor and his prisoner. I shoved the young man sideways to safety. It was too late for the sailor in front of me to pull back his weapon’s descending blow, even if he had wanted to. His blade swung toward me. Instinctively, I threw up my empty hand, as if it could block the falling sword.
A brilliant flash of reddish-purple light sprang from my palm and flowed through the air to form a transparent barrier in front of me. Frozen in shock, I watched as my enemy’s blade glanced harmlessly off this magic shield. The sword’s clash left behind little ripples in the magic, like a stone tossed into the sea.
As stunned as my enemies, I stared at the magic shimmering from my palm. Unthinkingly, I lowered my hand. As soon as I did, the magic shield instantly shrank inward and returned to my palm, as if it had never been anywhere else. I stood facing the sailors with nothing between me and their sharp weapons except the spear I clutched in my other hand.
Before I could comprehend my desperate situation, I heard an unexpected sound. I looked to my left to find that when I had pushed the young man aside, he had fallen against a stack of empty barrels. The top row of barrels now rocked back and forth. After a few suspenseful seconds, the top barrels collapsed, knocking down the row beneath. Then the full stack crashed to the ground, barrels rolling in all directions, some crashing into my enemies. Through the chaotic scene, I caught a fleeting glimpse of a leather vest and three-cornered hat disappearing out of the mouth of the alley. The young man had fled, leaving me behind to face his foes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I made a quick decision to follow the cowardly example of the stranger I had rescued. I risked turning my back on the confused sailors, leaped over a rolling barrel, dodged another, and ran after the fleeing young man.
Exploding out of the mouth of the alley, I found myself on another wooden walkway that ran along the front of a row of warehouses. I dashed down it, scrambled across a shaky bridge at the end, and stopped to check my direction. I was unfamiliar with this town and had no idea where I was running. In this area, there were no lanterns lining the way and I was fearful of plunging off the end of a ramp and into the dark waters. But there were only two ways to go, and backward wasn’t an option right now. Already, I could hear the sounds of the sailors’ pursuit.
I ran on, following the only path open to me. Up ahead, the walkway finally diverged in several directions. There was no time for hesitation. I imagined I heard the sounds of thudding footsteps ahead and hurried after them, hoping they belonged to the one I had saved, the stranger who shared my name.
Finally, I stopped to catch my breath in the shadow of a building. My lungs were burning, but at least I seemed to have lost my pursuers. A tall shape detached itself from the darkness.
“Why are you following me?” it demanded.
I whirled and pointed my spear, but it was only the young man I had rescued.
I didn’t answer, instead asking, “Are you really Basil Seastrider?”
He appeared to relax slightly. “That depends on who wants to know,” he said, adjusting his three-cornered hat, which had skewed sideways during the run. “Do I owe you money?”
Now his hat was pushed back, I had a better view of his face. In the dim moonlight, he didn’t look much like a Seastrider. Certainly he didn’t bear any resemblance to me. He had the typically bizarre appearance of all off-islanders, lacking horns, wings, or scales. He probably wasn’t ugly by local standards. But his hair was dark and dull, his face so narrow and his nose so long that I was instantly reminded of a weasel. His only dramatic features were his eyebrows, dark slashes that were tilted at the moment in a faintly quizzical expression.
Realizing he was waiting for my answer, I said, “We shouldn’t stand here long. I don’t think this is the safest place to talk. When we get to your house, I’ll explain who I am and why I’ve been looking for you.”
“Whoa! Hold on there,” he said with a startled laugh. “You can’t come home with me. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate what you did back there… Whatever it was.”
He scratched his head, obviously confused at the memory of the magic he had witnessed. He continued, “You charging out of nowhere to shove me into that stack of barrels was one of the most welcome sights of my life. And that glowy hand thing you did to deflect the sword was impressive stuff. But all gratitude aside, you’re just not my type.”
“Type?” I asked, unfamiliar with the expression.
“I mean that I don’t find you attractive,” he explained. “And believe me, I rarely say that to a girl. But between the fish scales and the blue hair, I don’t know what I’m looking at. And the antlers just look dangerous.”
I touched a self-conscious hand to one of the horns spiraling up from my temple. My horns were smooth, delicately twisted, and fiercely sharp at the tips. They were like miniature replicas of Skybreaker’s horns. They were nothing like antlers.
But I brushed aside the insult. Vanity had never been one of my weaknesses. “If I look strange to your eyes, it’s because I come from a faraway place across the water,” I explained quickly.
“And I’m sure over there you’re considered a real beauty, compared to the dragons they’re used to,” he said. “But around here…”
“We really do have dragons on my island,” I cut in. “Or we used to. That’s how I came to you. My dragon and I have flown across the sea on a desperate quest, looking for someone to
help us.”
His smile became patronizing. “In that case,” he said, “I recommend returning to The Lucky Anchor. You’ll find lots of helpful folk over that way.”
I thought I heard him add under his breath, “And most of them drunk enough to believe you.”
“You think I’m inventing this story?” I demanded.
He merely cleared his throat. “Never mind. I’ve got to be off before those pirates figure out what’s happened to me. Good luck to you, queen of dragons.”
I scowled. “I never claimed to be a queen.”
But I said it to his back, because he was already walking away.
I cast a hasty glance in the direction we had come. I saw no sign our enemies were following. So I hurried after the unpleasant Basil Seastrider, quickening my steps to match his long strides.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he complained. “I’ve told you to be on your way. You can’t come with me.”
“If you want to be rid of me, stop and answer my questions,” I said. “If you don’t, I’ll go wherever you go, and you’ll never shake me. Not until sunrise anyway. I promised I would be back by then. I can’t leave Skybreaker on the rooftop forever.”
He kept walking. “I suppose you want me to ask who the mysterious Skybreaker is, but I’m not going to encourage you.”
I didn’t answer. The walk we followed had split into two levels, and the way we went took us past the deck of the upper level. Atop that deck, a row of large eerie shapes stood out against the night sky, silhouetted by the stars.
“What are those?” I asked, staring at the vaguely threatening shapes.
He followed my gaze. “Those are the Big Thunders, the hundred cannon that defend the port.”
“Defend?” I asked, confused. I had never heard of things called cannons. “Are they weapons of some kind?”
He looked surprised at my ignorance. “Yes, they’re weapons. They’re powerful enough to blow oncoming ships out of the water. Or in this case, they’re set up to sink any ship on Port Unity docks whose captain and crew break the peace.”
I frowned. “And such threats are necessary why?”
“Possibly you haven’t noticed,” he said. “But there’s a lot of rough folk around this town. The port isn’t frequented only by honest traders but by quarrelsome feuding pirates and ruthless Gold Ship Voyagers.”
Gold Ship Voyagers. I had heard that name before. My mind went back to the veiled man in The Blue Mermaid who had seemed so interested in my magic. I remembered the general air of contempt from the other sailors when that man and his gold-clad companions had entered the room.
“Who are these Gold Ship Voyagers?” I asked. “Why does everyone despise them so much?”
He shot me a glance that said it was a foolish question. “You really have lived on a far-off island, haven’t you?”
I kept quiet, because I didn’t think he really wanted an answer.
After a moment’s silence, he gave in. “Gold Ship Voyagers come from a distant empire on the other side of the ocean. They are sent out to conquer unclaimed islands, scour undefended coasts, and seize any natural resources or people they can get their hands on. Their ships are rowed by galley slaves, who are unfortunate criminals or enemies they have captured. Lately, the voyagers have taken a great interest in this part of the world. No one knows why, but the result is that the seas hereabouts are dotted with far too many gold sails nowadays. Everyone hates and fears them.”
“Yet they are not driven away from this place,” I observed.
“All are welcome in Port Unity, so long as they bring their gold and silver,” he said. “It is the nature of this town. And any crew that breaks the peace and drives away business risks bringing down the wrath of the Big Thunders on their ship.”
“But I’ve seen plenty of brawls since I arrived,” I pointed out. “What about those sailors who attacked you?”
He shrugged it off. “There’s brawls and then there’s battles. What we had was a minor skirmish. More importantly, it wasn’t noticed by anyone but ourselves.”
My thoughts returned to the encounter between the veiled man in The Blue Mermaid and the pirate captain who had bought me a meal. “I saw some Gold Ship Voyagers today,” I said. “One nearly came to blows with a pirate who prevented me from selling my armband.”
I indicated the hammered metal band clasped around my bicep.
My companion glanced at it, then stared harder.
“Stop a moment,” he said in a voice suddenly very different than the casual way he had spoken before. “Let me see that band.”
We had entered a better-lit part of town, and now we came to a standstill beneath the glow of an overhead pole lantern.
He didn’t touch the ornament on my arm, merely examined it in the soft light. Something about it seemed to make him uneasy.
“Where did you get this?” he asked. “Tell me the real reason you’ve come to Port Unity.”
I didn’t know which question to answer first. “The band was a common piece of jewelry on my home island. There were many like it on the Ninth Isle,” I said. “And I’ve told you already my purpose in coming here. I am on an urgent quest. To fulfill it, I seek help from my mother’s sister, Thaleia. I was hoping since you share the name of Seastrider, you could direct me to her.”
On hearing the name of Thaleia, his attitude changed completely. “You’re from Corthium, the forbidden island,” he said, seeming startled by the realization.
Before I could confirm it, there was a clattering noise in the distance.
We both started and looked back to the shadows we had emerged from earlier. But our enemies did not appear. Perhaps it had been nothing but a bit of driftwood on the water knocking against the walkway.
All the same, it appeared to drive my companion to an abrupt decision. “Come with me,” he said quickly. “We’ll continue this discussion when it’s safe.”
He turned and hurried off.
Unsure what to make of his changed behavior, I followed him. All the way, I cast glances over my shoulder to be sure we weren’t being trailed.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The young man led me away from the wooden-planked walkways edging the water. We wove a path between empty silent homes that stood on raised multilevel platforms, similar to the deck that had held the cannons. I had no idea where we were going but was pretty sure it wasn’t back to any of the places we had already been.
There was no sign of pursuit. Our enemies, if they had ever been following, seemed to have fallen behind. With any luck, we would see no more of them.
Rounding a corner, my guide came to a sudden stop, nearly making me run into his back. I looked up to find we were standing in front of a massive ship, its bulk rising like a dark shadow to blot out the stars. Despite the size, it wasn’t an impressive vessel, like the magnificent ships I had seen docked near The Blue Mermaid. In contrast, this dilapidated structure was a pathetic sight. It leaned slightly to one side, causing its decks to slope. Even in the moonlight, I could make out that the timbers were rotten and the ragged sails flapping in the night breeze were full of gaping holes. If the condition of the hull was anything like that of the upper decks, it was a miracle the thing stayed afloat. I couldn’t imagine this ruined shell of a ship had been seaworthy in decades.
My companion seemed to read my thoughts. “Don’t worry. She’s not sinking anytime soon,” he told me. “She’s entangled on a reef below the surface. Has been for years. That’s what holds the rest of her up, while the belowdecks are mostly underwater. Come on. I’ll show you the easiest spot to climb aboard.”
“Then this is your ship?” I asked, following him to the lowest-leaning side of the vessel. A crude rope ladder hung down from above, offering a way up.
“It’s not mine,” he admitted, grasping the bottom rung. “I don’t think it really belongs to anyone nowadays. But I’ve got myself a cozy little place on board.”
He began to climb and I followed suit
, coming up behind.
“You live in the captain’s cabin?” I asked on the way up.
“Nope. I’ve got a better nook than that.”
He took one hand off the ladder to point upward, toward the top of the ship’s thickest mast. High up the mainmast was a crow’s nest that should have been barely big enough for one man to stand in. But someone had added to that wooden platform, extending it slightly outward and building a tiny rickety-looking shed around it. From what I could make out through the gloom, the construction was made of scrap lumber and appeared to be held together by bits of rope and not much else.
“That’s where you live?” I asked, gaping.
My guide didn’t answer. He had already disappeared over the ship’s rail. I scrambled up after him.
Climbing over the rail and finally setting foot on the moonlit deck, I found it in even worse shape than I had originally thought. Boards were warped and broken. Here and there were holes I could easily put a foot through if I didn’t watch my step. From the creaking of the wood, I could imagine it suddenly giving way beneath me and sending me plunging into whatever lay below.
Seemingly untroubled, my companion picked his way around the most dangerous spots as if he knew them by memory and led the way toward the mainmast. I tilted my head back and looked up at the crow’s nest again, since it was obvious that was where he was headed. The home reminded me of a tiny fragile tree house.
“How stable is that thing?” I asked.
“Not very,” he said easily. “Come on up.”
Far from reassured by the answer, I watched him scramble up the ratlines stretching down the mast. He climbed as agilely as if he had done it a thousand times before. Perhaps he had. But I was more cautious in my ascent, noticing the frayed state of the lines I clung to.