by Rosie Scott
My mind was too cluttered with recent events and tragedies to focus on any one thing; yet, as I watched the chaos in the waters we left behind, I noticed details that felt important to keep in mind for later. Earlier in the battle, I counted a dozen pirate ships in near seas all at once. Now, with five successfully fleeing in the distance, that left seven vessels that this beast had utterly destroyed with two tentacles. Which led to my next thought: whatever this creature was, we'd only seen a fraction of its power today. While two appendages wreaked havoc on a pirate fleet, the beast left the rest of its body underwater. Perhaps because rising completely was unnecessary, or maybe it was a method of self-defense. Regardless, if two tentacles caused all this destruction, I could only imagine what the creature could do to Vruyk and Cale's entire gang.
The thunderstorm died down that evening, relenting in its anger to turn into a light sprinkle. I continued observing the scene of the battle from our far distance until the tentacles returned to the ocean, leaving evidence of multiple ruined ships but no culprit. Although it was hours after the battle, I only now transformed back to elf. The resulting pain from my dislocated arm having to undergo a metamorphosis while swollen was excruciating, but it didn't hold a candle to the war I fought in my mind. After my transformation I rocked nude over the deck in a pool of my own blood, my head full of horrific recent memories and my eyes welling with tears. With Kali's energy missing from the crew, her brutal death suddenly became real. We had lost crew members before; we would lose them again. But Kali was one of the few who rose above the rest to become a friend.
And once again, I hadn't told her that.
Hassan could aid me with my dislocated arm, but I didn't have the heart to ask him to when he was defeated by mourning. With the limb dangling loosely from the socket and my flesh wounds scabbed over with dried blood, I passed by everyone and headed down into the depths of the barque. I wanted to be alone. I wanted time to think. To plan. To come to terms with everything that happened.
Boot steps hurried down the steps behind me, bringing my thoughts to a screeching halt. “Sir?”
Sage. I reached up to wipe at my eyes, ridding them of evidence of my emotion. I swallowed to clear my throat of mucus and turned to find Sage's shadowed tall form blocking the light coming in from the deck above. “Yeah?”
Sage took another step forward. “Your arm needs to be realigned.”
“I can't ask Hassan for that right now—”
Sage's shadow dipped forward a bit as he nodded. “I understand. I can do it. I'll need pain-relieving potions and a sling and splint. Shall I get them from the ward?”
Something about the Celd's calm but matter-of-fact demeanor warmed me up to the idea. “All right.”
“You must be sitting when I reduce it,” Sage informed me. “I can meet you in the captain's quarters in a moment.”
I nodded weakly and turned from him, heading to the room I shared with Koby. It was dark, for little natural light came through its windows and I was too unmotivated to place an alteration light against the wall. I sat on the edge of my bed, finding slight peace in the familiarity of the ship's rocking movements and the sweet roasted scent of ferris that clung to everything I ever touched.
By the time Sage came into the captain's quarters with the necessary supplies, I was halfway through a cigarette. After he asked me to brighten the room, I finally placed an alteration light on the wood-paneled wall. I drank the pain-relieving potion Sage gave me between puffs of ferris, and we waited until the intense throbbing ceased before he reduced my elbow. When he did, a dull biting pain tried to split my arm in two, coinciding with one tear's escape from the corner of my eye. It splatted on my upper arm; Sage noticed with little more than a flick of his eyes.
“I apologize,” he offered low.
“No, I should apologize,” I replied, clearing my throat to try to regain my composure. “It's weak of me to—”
“No,” Sage interrupted, his tone warm but firm. “It is never a weakness to express oneself.”
His advice reminded me of the conversation Kali and I had where she hinted at the Alderi's habit of repressing emotion. There were so many things I left unsaid to people I cared about for fear of being inappropriate or seen as weak. Kali had been right; the harsh Alderi culture stunted sentimental growth. Years after escaping to the surface, I still struggled with how to relate or bond with others if it didn't involve humor or sex. My poor eyesight had disabled me underground, but it was my social ineptitude continuing to plague me now.
“I never called her a friend,” I admitted like a demeaning secret. Although my words were vague, Sage immediately understood.
“You didn't have to,” he told me candidly. “She knew.”
That was all he said, but it was everything I needed to hear. I allowed myself to mourn openly as Sage prepared the splint and then a sling, his silence and discretion bringing me far more peace than I would have felt while alone and drowning in insecurities.
*
Tap-tap-tap.
The knock on the door of the captain's quarters was soft to avoid offense. In other times, in other moods, I might not have even heard it. Having the best hearing of all races in the world meant nothing with a mind distracted by turmoil. I assumed it was Koby, so without even a glance at the door, I stayed in bed and called out, “Come in.”
The door creaked. In my peripheral vision, I noticed black hair longer than Koby's, so I tilted my head. Hassan stood at the open doorway, Kali's cestus gloves in his hands. His emerald eyes were bloodshot from mourning. He wore his shoulder-length hair down, and given the excess oil making it shine, he hadn't bathed since the battle days before. Stubble dusted his jaw.
“Sorry to bother you,” Hassan offered. His voice caught, so he cleared his throat.
“You didn't.”
“I didn't—I didn't know if I could...” he trailed off shakily, staring down at Kali's gloves. “We've always split up belongings if sailors don't have a will. Kali didn't have one, and she had no family left. I wondered if I could—”
“Take them, Hassan,” I encouraged, my gut swirling with nausea as I stared at the ceiling.
“She had more than just her gloves,” he continued, his voice thick. “I know Jayce will want something, too.”
The nausea got worse. Perhaps I'd conveniently forgotten about Kali's relationship so I didn't have to think about how I'd break the news to Jayce.
“Close the door,” I told Hassan, pointing at it. “Sit down.”
Hassan did as I asked, sitting down on the edge of Koby's bed across from me. His posture slumped, evidence of his mental exhaustion, but he said nothing.
“You're in charge,” I told him. “You spent enough time with Jayce to have an idea of what she'd like. No one else can touch Kali's stuff until you and Jayce have gone through it together.”
Hassan audibly swallowed. “All right. Thank you.”
I said nothing; my chest felt so tight it was as if my body attempted to implode.
“That was one of Kali's favorite things about you,” Hassan murmured.
I flinched. “What?”
“'You're in charge,'” Hassan repeated my earlier words. “Kali told me it's what you said to her about seeking vengeance in Nahara. She felt heard. Respected. She told me this crew was her favorite of all those she traveled with because we're all treated as equals.” He laughed sadly. “I mean, most of us don't have proper titles. We don't know what we're doing. We approach life on the seas as it comes to us. It's unconventional as hell, but somehow it works.” He hesitated again. “I've never said it, but with Kali dead I feel I should. As much as I tease you and Koby about how directionless and chaotic our adventures can be, I respect the hell out of you both for the same reasons Kali did. I wish you two had never been abused underground, but because of what you've been through, you approach everything differently. Patrick was like a father to me because I never knew mine, but even his crew had a hierarchy. The others often teased me ab
out it the most, calling me his favorite. I was worried about you and Koby taking over because of your inexperience, but rather than sabotage you, it's allowed you to redefine how you do business. A crew led by ex-slaves has turned out to be one of equality. We all feel important. Kali loved that. If it weren't for what happened I don't think she would've ever left.”
“Did she say that to you?” I asked.
“She told me about that conversation you had with her in the Forks,” Hassan admitted. “She joked about hurting me for letting her dream slip before sounding relieved that you were open to the idea. Maybe one day she would've wanted to settle down, but she wasn't ready yet.” He cleared his throat when his voice thickened. “She...uh, she had too much she wanted to do still.”
The realization that Kali would never get to enact vengeance on Yasir crossed my mind with a painfully knife-life bite. Every person I'd ever known who died had unrealized ambitions. Life refused to play fair.
“It seems like Kali's death really affected you,” Hassan commented after a moment, his voice edged in uncertainty as if he wasn't sure this was an appropriate subject to bring up with me.
“All deaths affect me.”
“You said nothing of Patrick's.” It wasn't an accusation, merely a curious statement.
“I said nothing,” I agreed vaguely, my rough voice low.
Hassan exhaled slowly. “I envy your ability to weather most tragedies quietly and alone.”
“I envy you for being able to outwardly and comfortably express yourself without internalizing everything.”
There was a hesitation. “Forgive me if I angered you.”
“You didn't. Of all people, you know how I get when I'm angry.”
“Yeah,” Hassan agreed softly. In my peripheral vision, his lavender fingers played with the frayed fabric at the knee of his trousers. “Can I ask you something about shapeshifting?”
“Sure.” I scooted back on my bed to prop myself up on pillows so I could sit up and smoke, being careful not to jerk around my injured left arm.
“Forgive me if it's a stupid question,” Hassan began as I lit the cigarette by the flame of the table lamp, “but what dictates when you turn back? After becoming your blood-kin?”
“Shapeshifting is the most powerful alteration spell,” I replied. “Like any other spell, it requires reciting to summon and dispelling to dissipate. If I recite the spell, I transform into my lizard-kin. By dispelling it, the second transformation will begin.”
“How do you dispel it?”
“Mental direction.”
“So you have to be...” he trailed off and swallowed hard. “Alive.”
I thought of Kali's mutilated parts floating in the seas. The same woman who had been born human died as an insect. It suddenly made sense why Hassan asked this now. “Right.”
“Beastmen died in the Forks,” Hassan began, the skin between his eyebrows wrinkling as he fought off emotion. “The ones we killed before they fully transformed stayed as horrific lumps of two bodies—man and beast. But I never put too much thought into it until Kali died, you know? I kept thinking—is there a way we can transform her back? Would she have wanted to die in a different body?”
“It was still her body,” I reminded him softly. “Just changed. And as for transforming her back—” her dismemberment came back to mind “—even if we could, trust me, you wouldn't have wanted to.”
“How would you feel?” Hassan asked out of morbid curiosity. “Would it bother you to die as a beast?”
“If I were dead, nothing would bother me anymore.”
Hassan exhaled in a rush. “I suppose not. I'm sorry. I'm just...coming to terms with everything.”
I blew out a stream of smoke. “Me, too.”
“What are our plans after reaching Killick?”
“Koby and I need to talk to Ajax,” I replied. “Figure out his plans. See if we can get them to align with ours.”
“Our plans for future trading voyages?” he asked for clarification.
“No. Our plans for ending the reign of these pirates altogether. The last few days have been...enlightening.”
“Oh. Good,” Hassan replied with some relief. “Because Cale's schooner was destroyed but he might've escaped. After what he did to Kali—”
“Don't you worry,” I interrupted, a flame of vengeance igniting in my heart. “I'll tear that fucker apart.”
Twenty-one
Our remaining trip to Killick's western shore took a few days. Ajax's cog followed us just like he promised. We dropped anchor off the untamed western coast, as close as possible without risking the barque's keel so unloading our cargo would go quickly and smoothly. With Hassan still distraught and depressed, I put Neliah and Sage in charge of the others while Koby and I went to speak with Ajax.
Despite the cog's smaller overall size, Koby and I had to walk up a connected ramp to get to its deck from our own while the ships were parallel, for the barque was shorter. Ajax had lost half his crew in the battle; the cog proved their absence with its low-populated deck and the stubborn bloodstains in its hardwood. The sailors worked hard at repairs and patching the cannonball holes that pockmarked the hull as their captain waited to greet us at the center of the quarterdeck.
Ajax spread his dark arms in a welcoming gesture and smiled. “Welcome aboard my humble vessel. Forgive me if I'm not the most energetic. I'm still recovering from...” he trailed off and peered across his vessel somberly “...recent events.”
“We all are,” Koby sympathized. Like me, Koby had switched between mourning Kali and coming to terms with witnessing a beast of apocalyptic proportions firsthand. The resulting emotional whiplash left him exhausted; the periwinkle skin under his eyes darkened with wisps of navy blue.
“First things first,” Ajax began, his black eyes following the first rowboat that transported cargo from our barque to shore. “Why are you unloading goods on the western coast?”
“We have a deal with a trader inland,” I explained. “A deal I'm sure he'd offer to you as well if you're interested.” I nodded toward the cog's raised poop deck. “Can we discuss it somewhere privately?”
Ajax led us below deck and to a tiny cluttered office that smelled of ale, body odor, and hints of ferris. Koby and I sat down in two wobbly wooden chairs. The captain left the office door open behind us before circling a discolored desk and sitting in a padded leather chair.
“Do you mind if I smoke?” I asked. After Ajax motioned for me to go ahead, I grabbed a cigarette and held it out to Koby to light since I couldn't strike a match with my healing arm. After taking a puff, I asked, “What in Aleyah's name were you doing heading north of Killick?”
Ajax laughed shortly at the blunt question, but a flash of defiance passed through his dark eyes. “Trading.”
“Have you been out of the business the last few years?” I asked. “Or were you unconcerned about the risks?”
Ajax scoffed, but it was born out of frustration about his circumstances, not my question. “The risks haven't changed for years. Nothing changes. That's the problem. These damn pirates took over and no one's challenging them. I'm sick and fucking tired of not being able to do my job. Maybe it was foolhardy of me to plan a voyage to Killick, but I thought if I hired enough mercenaries and took the right cargo, I'd be able to make it. I cannot express my gratitude enough to you. If you hadn't stopped, that first schooner would've likely taken us out with the wyvern alone. I had no idea the pirates were attracting beastmen.”
“The wyvern-kin was their captain, Cale Woodburn,” I informed him.
“Is,” Koby corrected forlornly. “Cale left his ship with the corpses of his crew and flew northeast. Considering you bragged to him that we found where he replanted the stolen ferris, I have to imagine he'll be making his way back to the wildlands to give Vallen and his men more problems.”
Through a plume of smoke, I narrowed my eyes at my best friend.
Koby raised his hands to indicate a truce. “I'm just bei
ng realistic and honest, Cal. I liked your shit-talking as much as the next guy, but you gave Cale a lot of information about what we've been up to.”
Because I planned on killing him, I thought with chagrin, my wounded pride causing me to slump in my chair and take another drag off the cigarette.
Ajax switched his gaze between Koby and me. “It sounds like you stopped to join the battle for more reasons than aiding us. Does your crew have history with these raiders?”
“You could say that,” I drawled.
Koby and I took turns explaining our long and complicated history with the pirates to Ajax, including the ways we altered our business plans in order to circumvent their vessels. We also relayed our attack of their hideout in Llyr to prove we had the skills and motivation to stand a chance against a problem so much larger than us. If we were to get Ajax and his crew involved with our plans of mutiny, we had to show we were capable of leading it. Because the other captain sounded so angry about how Vruyk and Cale's gang affected his work, I decided not only to tell him of the trading partnership we had with Rik in Killick, but I also relayed our hopes to take care of the problem permanently.
Ajax listened to our story with intrigue, and he appeared interested in going to Killick with us to meet Rik and take advantage of the same deal with him. Yet, when we spoke about defeating Vruyk and Cale's entire gang, his gaze gained an edge of disbelief.