The Island of Wolves

by Elizabeth Avery

  “Red eyes?” I asked. “That’s what Harmon called you.” But he didn’t really have red eyes, so I was confused. “What does it mean?”

  “Minotaurs are born with yellow eyes and most stay that way. The darker a bull’s eyes, the more they’ve… done. The monsters are the ones with the red eyes.”

  He trailed off, releasing me and turned his gaze back to the fire. It was so vague, I wanted to ask exactly what he meant, but at the same time, I had an idea of what he was getting at. I watched Conon thinking. Compared to the rest of the crew, his eyes were the darkest of all.

  That evening in the mess tent, while the crew was occupied with dinner, one of the engineers took the opportunity to update everyone on how the ship was going.

  “We’ve managed to remount Engine One,” he told them. He paused to let the sudden cheer die down. “But its fuel has been spent. We may be alright with just the one, but it’s going to be slow going once we’re out in open water.”

  “Don’t we have any spare crystals?” someone asked.

  “The cargo hold got pretty shaken up,” said the engineer. “There’s not enough left to run both engines.”

  I felt like I was back in class as I slowly raised my hand. “Umm,” I hesitated. “What kind of crystals do you need?”

  “Arcane,” said the engineer, as though it should be obvious.

  “Yes, but I mean what do they look like? What colour are they? Are they sort of a lightish-purple, about this big,” I spread my hands about a foot apart. “Grow in clusters?”

  The engineer’s eyes widened, then his entire face lit up. “Don’t you go anywhere after I’m finished with this,” he said excitedly. “I want a word with you.”

  After the engineer finished his talk, he grabbed his partner, and they took me outside.

  “Where did you see them?”

  I quickly explained about the cave tunnels where I’d escaped from the lizard creature. I spent the next half hour being questioned about everything. They wanted all the details. How big were the crystals exactly? How brightly were they glowing? How many crystals to a cluster? Though I’d been running for my life at the time, I did my best to tell them everything I remembered. With their help, I was able to draw a crude map so they could find the tunnel entrance again.

  “Hmm, sounds like a small secondary vent,” said one.”

  “You’d think they’d be flame crystals in this climate,” said the other. “You sure they weren’t orange?”

  “No they were definitely purple.”

  “Must be an arcane pool somewhere under the mountain,” said the first. “Well anyway, it doesn’t sound like the vein is too big, but could be just enough.”

  After the engineers dismissed me, I returned to the mess tent and ran into Conon on his way out. “I have night patrol,” he said unhappily.

  “I’ll be alright.”

  “I know,” he said, leaning down to kiss my hair. “Just try not to stay up too late, alright? You need to rest.”

  Most of the crew was gone from the mess tent now, and the galley crew were nearly done cleaning up. Up the back of the tent, sitting alone, was the captain, a large glass in one hand, and a green bottle in the other. Right next to his table, there was an open wine crate. I approached hesitantly.

  “What?” he growled looking up, his grip tightening on the bottle. “Got something to say, woman?”

  I shook my head and took the seat across from him. I watched him pour another drink with shaking hands. When what remained only got him half a glass, he looked into the empty bottle angrily, then threw it away. It shattered against one of the mess tent’s support posts, and I had to stop myself from flinching. I reached for the wine crate and passed him a fresh bottle.

  The captain eyed me warily, before taking it. He pulled the cork from the bottle with his teeth, and filled the rest of his glass. “What do you want?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Are you okay?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  I just shrugged and the captain gave a sigh. He took a swig straight from the bottle, seeming to forget he even has a glass. He put the bottle down a little harder than was probably necessary, his cough becoming a hiccup halfway.

  “Having fun watching an old bear fall apart?”

  “I don’t think you’re falling apart,” I said. “I think you’re under a lot of stress.”

  “Oh yeah, and why would that be?” he demanded sarcastically. “Could it be that we’re trapped on an island with man-eating reptiles, if your recent foray is any indication? Or maybe it’s because I’ve got members of my own crew running around behind by back, doing whatever they damn well—”

  I jumped when he slammed his paw on the table. Slowly, he lifted it and covered his face. After a moment, he lowered it and took another drink.

  “Would it help to talk about it?”

  The captain fixed me with a glazed stare, as if staring right through me. I didn’t know how much he’d had to drink before I’d come over, but it was certainly more than just a few glasses. He looked absolutely wrecked.

  “How long do you think I’ve been doing this?” he asked, waving his paw in the general direction of the rest of the camp. “Nearly ten years. Ten! Years! Most boys in the business don’t even make half that before the local ports, or the fuckin’ EOTA catches up with them.” He paused. “Don’t look at me like that! You know exactly what we’re up to!”

  “It’s none of my business—”

  “You’re damn well right it’s not!” the captain snarled, before taking another drink. “But it’s not hard to figure out.”

  We were silent for a while before I decided to take advantage of the captain’s inebriation to broach a sensitive subject.

  “What’s going to happen to Risk when we get to the Miraban Territories?”

  “So you think we’re getting off this island paradise, do you?”

  “The engineers seem to think we have a good chance.”

  “They’re optimists,” he grunted between swigs from the wine bottle. I was certain at this point, had the captain not been covered in fur, his face would have been as red as the liquid in his glass. He put the bottle down and wiped his mouth on the back of his paw. “I dunno what I’m going to do with him. Usually the way you deal with spies is with a bullet.”

  My eyes widened, and I could feel them burning with the threat of tears.

  “What’s you problem?” the captain asked, his speech slurring slightly. “You know he didn’t do anything.”

  “Then why?”

  “I’ve got to be seen doing something,” he said. “The crew trusts me. You understand? I can’t just let it go.”

  “But if Risk didn’t do any—”

  “But someone DID!” the captain roared, slamming his bottle on the table again. This time, it shattered under the pressure. I jumped out of my chair to avoid the flying shrapnel. We stared at each other for a long moment as I tried to control my racing heart.

  “What happened?” I asked eventually.

  Before the captain could answer, a familiar figure appeared at the entrance to the mess tent, no doubt drawn by the raised voices. One glance at the situation, and Skeever was at the captain’s side. “Come on,” he said, his voice oddly gentle. “You’ve had enough.”

  “I’m NOT going crazy,” the captain said firmly, then looked up at Skeever as though for reassurance. “There IS a spy.”

  “I know,” said Skeever.

  “I’m not going crazy,” the captain repeated, staring down at his paws. He seemed to be talking to himself. “Not yet, I don’t have that many grey hairs…”

  The captain’s voice trailed off, then he looked up at Skeever again. Something in the rat’s expression made him pause. Suddenly the bear’s face twisted. He looked miserable. Broken. He buried his face in his paws again and howled.

  “Maybe it’s time you went to bed,” said Skeever in what was clearly a dismissal.

  I didn’t have to be told twice.
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br />   Chapter 14:

  The Jungle

  The next morning, Conon and I were up bright and early. Though my head was still tender to the touch, I felt a great deal better than I had the previous day. Even my scratches and blisters were healing a lot faster that I would have expected.

  “Might have been more in the spring than I thought,” said Conon as he checked me over.

  “Like what? Magic water?”

  “Couldn’t tell you,” he said with a shrug. “Not really a magic kinda bloke. Either way, I’m not complaining. If it works, it works.”

  When we left the tent to head to breakfast, a group of the crew looked like they were getting ready to leave. They were pulling on backpacks and preparing axes.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “The Seacow needs a new mast,” Conon explained. “Just in case those crystals of yours aren’t as good as we hope; we may have to sail the whole way.”

  “I was curious about that,” I admitted. “I couldn’t help thinking: ‘why would an engine ship have a sail?’”

  “Well, fuel isn’t inexhaustible. It’s more efficient to shut down the engine and sail when you’ve got a good wind.”

  “So they’re going into the jungle? Is that safe?”

  “They’re going in numbers and everyone’s armed,” assured Conon. “They’ll be fine.”

  “There you are!”

  We turned and saw Harmon jogging towards us. He was all smiles and breathless enthusiasm as he came to a stop. His gaze lingered on me for a moment before he addressed Conon.

  “I’m sending you out on tree collection.”

  “Are you now?” Conon said, raising an eyebrow at the instruction. “Sorry, but I’ve got other things to do. The boys can take care of some wood chopping, they don’t need me along.”

  “Uh, did you forget what happened last night?” asked Harmon. “Or did you hit your head that badly when I threw you out of the Ring of Horns?”

  “No, I remember,” said Conon, clearly unconcerned. “It just doesn’t matter all that much to me.”

  “I beat you,” said Harmon slowly.

  “Yes, congratulations,” Conon cut in before the younger minotaur could continue. “I’m sure you’ll do a great job. Just be sure to keep me out of it.”

  “Whether you like it or not you’re a part of this clan, and I—”

  “Yeah, about that,” said Conon, interrupting again. “I’ve been doing some thinking—and I know it’s sudden—but I think I’m going to take things rogue from now on.”

  “What?” Harmon looked shocked. The conversation clearly wasn’t going in the direction he’d expected. “You think you can leave, just like that? Leave the crew?”

  “Hey, who ever said anything about leaving the crew?” said Conon. “I don’t plan on going anywhere just yet.”

  “I’m the chief—”

  “Of the clan. What, did you think our fight suddenly made you captain as well?” said Conon, mockery in his voice. “I’m still your head of security, sailor and when it comes to ship work, I still outrank you. Got a problem with that, take it up with Skeever.”

  Harmon’s hands balled into fists, and I quickly stepped up. But my objecting “please—” was immediately cut off as Conon flung out his arm to keep me back.

  “This is the one time when you need to stay out of it,” he said firmly.

  “Yeah human, I thought you didn’t care about minotaur politics,” said Harmon, not even bothering to look at me as he spoke.

  “It’s alright,” assured Conon when I hesitated. “Go take a walk. I’ll handle this.”

  I didn’t want to leave, but the calmness behind Conon’s anger gave me pause. He clearly seemed to know what he was doing, whereas Harmon’s frustration came across as a childish tantrum. I smiled up at him and laid a supportive hand on his forearm, before leaving them to it.

  I came across Skeever a while later, sitting on a log with a mass of rope laid out in front of him. As I watched, he worked it, twisting and knotting until before my eyes a large, sturdy-looking net started to take shape.

  “What’s that for?” I asked to make conversation.

  “For the mast tree,” he replied, keeping his eyes down. “It has to be brought back in one piece after they strip the limbs off, so they’ll wrap the net around the back end and drag it down to the beach.”

  “Are you going out with the others?”

  “Don’t see why I would,” he replied, as he stood and surveyed his work. “Don’t know whether you noticed, but I’m not exactly packing a lumberjack’s body.”

  Well he wasn’t wrong. Though I’d seen him eat as much as anyone else in the crew at meal times, he never seemed to gain any weight, his ribs always prominent in his slim torso.

  I’d been alone with him quite a bit these last couple of days, and though he spoke casually with me at that moment, I still felt like I was tiptoeing around him since my interaction with the drunk captain the previous night. Something important, something that I was not privy to, had clearly passed between the two men. I had never seen the captain, or anyone for that matter, fall apart so thoroughly from just a single look.

  “Your thoughts are making my ears buzz,” he said suddenly. “Copper for them?”

  What was I supposed to say? I wanted to know what was going on, but I also knew none of it was any of my business.

  “I was just thinking we’ve managed to be more… cordial… towards each other over the past couple of days,” I said. “When we first met, I got the impression you didn’t think much of us, guests or not.”

  He fixed me with a long, level gaze, as though evaluating me, then gave a shrug. “Guess you’re growing on me.”

  Was that a good thing? I wasn’t sure whether I should say thank you or not, but was saved from having to answer by the return of Conon and Harmon.

  “We’re both going,” they said, almost in unison.

  “Sorry about this,” Conon continued, addressing me.

  “I could always come along,” I said brightly. “I’ve always loved nature hikes.”

  “This is a bit more than a nature hike,” he said. “I think it would be best if you stayed at camp.”

  “But imagine all the flora and fauna I could document!” I said excitedly. “I promise I won’t get in anyone’s way.”

  “Of course you won’t, because you’re staying here,” he said firmly, then softened. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back before you know it.”

  “But—”

  “I’m sorry,” interrupted Conon gently. “But I’m in charge of this expedition and I’d really rather you stay here.”

  “Well, I’m going,” said Skeever suddenly, with a mischievous glint in his beady eyes. “And I have no problem if she wants to come along.”

  “I said no,” said Conon.

  “And I said yes,” said Skeever. “And guess who’s in charge out of the two of us? Oh right, it’s me!” He gave me a pat on the shoulder. “I’d suggest some sturdier shoes for a hike through the jungle.”

  Conon followed me back to the tent and stood in the corner, arms folded with his back towards me, while I changed into pants and boots, and packed a light carry bag with some notebooks to record anything interesting I saw. It had been a while since I had done nature drawings, but there was no better time than the present to dust off my skills.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said once I was finished changing.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said with a smile. “If anything shows up, I have complete faith in you to protect me. It doesn’t hurt there’ll be a bunch of armed guys twice my size hanging around.”

  A heavy hand on my shoulder made me pause. I turned and saw the pain in his eyes.

  “I nearly lost you once already. I can’t bear the thought of you going anywhere that might put you in danger.”

  “I understand. I just… I have a job to do. So what if I don’t go this time, what happens next time? Are you going to put me in
a box so the world can’t get at me?” Something about his expression suggested he was considering it. “Am I your prisoner?”

  Anguish flooded Conon’s face, the red tints in his orange eyes darker than ever. “No… I’m not like that. I’m not.” He seemed to be telling himself this as much as he was telling me.

  “Then you have to let me breathe.” I leant up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “You have to trust me. I got out of one scrape. If more happen, I’ll get out of them too. I’m not made of glass.”

  Conon let out a long sigh. “Alright, just don’t go giving this old bull a heart attack by wandering off, ok?”

  “Old bull?”

  “I’m older than you are.”

  “By how much?”

  “Enough. So please? Don’t go throwing yourself into anything too dangerous.”

  I giggled. “Fine, I think I can manage that.”

  When we returned, everyone else was ready to depart. There were about a dozen minotaurs in the group, including one of the engineers who was along to make sure everything measured up.

  “Even just viewing the canopy from the beach, I’ve already selected a few promising candidates,” the engineer told us as we set off. “It’ll all depend on the health of the trees when we get there of course, but I expect we’ll be back before nightfall.”

  “Well, cheers for small mercies,” said Conon.

  We walked through the jungle in a cluster, with me, Conon, Harmon, and, still surprisingly, Skeever, in the middle, with the rest of the crew in a loose circle around us. The two in the front walked with cutlasses drawn and were using them to clear the path through the vines.

  For the first hour of walking, I couldn’t look everywhere fast enough. I had my notebook out and was sketching every interesting-looking bird and flower I could find. Conon looked on with a fond smile on his face. Every now and then, I’d see something interesting through the trees, and a hand would close on the back of my top to prevent me from disappearing into the undergrowth. A reflexive ‘sorry’ would fall from my lips, and Conon would shake his head and smile.

  “Slow learner, your woman,” said Harmon snidely, after a few repeats of this.