Black & Mist

by Thomas J. Radford

  “What’s today’s toast, sir?” Gravel raised his tankard halfway.

  “Today’s Thursday. That would be ourselves. Ourselves alone.”

  “Because no one else is like to care about us,” Violet finished. The two boys turned to stare at her. Violet shrugged. It was an Alliance naval toast. She’d heard the skipper make it plenty of times.

  “And that’s why you call her sir, landsman,” Kaspar said.

  “Aye, but I call you that, sir, and you make boring toasts. I’ve a better one if you both please.”

  He waited until both Violet and Kaspar waved him on.

  “Here’s to lying, cheating, stealing, and drinking.” He winked at Violet. Beside him, Kaspar winced as Gravel raised his tankard high. But he wasn’t done.

  “If you’re going to lie, lie to save a friend.” He nudged Kaspar until the other reluctantly raised his vessel too.

  “If you’re going to cheat, cheat death.” He tapped his tankard against Kaspar’s.

  “If you’re going to steal, steal the heart of the one you love.”

  He did the same to Violet’s. Before he could finish, she leaned over and clinked with Kaspar.

  “And if you’re going to drink, drink with friends both old and new,” she finished Piper’s favourite toast with a wide grin. “And see you at the bottom, landsman.”

  The three of them raised there tankards until the bottoms showed. Tradition demanded they could only be put down empty.

  Gravel finished first and turned to Kaspar. “Permission to desert ship and abscond with this woman, sir. I believe I’m in love.”

  “Denied, landsman,” Kaspar paused his own efforts long enough to respond.

  “Sorry, Miss Vi,” Gravel apologised. “I fear ours is a doomed love.”

  Violet couldn’t help the grin that threatened to split her face apart. She was at a risk of choking she was smiling so damned hard. Even the maudlin Kaspar was holding back a smirk. She was starting to feel better about the whole day. Until she saw who was standing behind the boys.

  Oh, hells.

  It was Quill.

  The Kelpie’s scowling face had been hidden until she finished drinking, gradually revealed as she lowered the tankard. Violet cringed, wishing she could blot his face out by lifting it again. That was how the skipper would have handled it.

  It was almost comical, watching Kaspar and Gravel realise there was something going on behind them. Then the slow turn as something was revealed to be someone. Except that they didn’t know Quill. Not yet.

  “Something we can help you with there, mate?” Gravel wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

  Quill ignored him, gesturing at Violet. “Come with me.”

  “She’s with us,” Gravel said, starting to rise.

  “Perhaps she was. Now she is with me.”

  “Easy, Brandon.” Kaspar reached out with one arm. Gravel brushed it aside, still standing between Quill and the table.

  “Gravel, it’s fine, I know him,” Violet said quickly, coming around to stand between them before the tension could escalate any further.

  “This one is drunk,” Quill noted, looming over Violet. “And stupid.”

  “Yes, he is.” Kaspar pushed Gravel firmly back down to the bench. “But in the morning he’ll just be stupid.”

  “Stupid is and stupid does,” Gravel said mulishly from the bench.

  “You said you know him, Miss Vi.” Kaspar didn’t take his hand off Gravel’s shoulder. “You’re happy to leave here with him then?”

  “Yes, of course, he’s . . .” Violet hesitated, “he’s a friend.”

  Quill snorted. “I am not her friend.”

  Violet rounded on him. “Not helping. Not helping at all!”

  “We are done here, yes?” Quill grabbed her by the arm, steering her towards the door. “Let us go. There are questions at the ship you must face.”

  “What’s with the facing, Kelpie?” Violet shook her arm free but kept up so he didn’t try and manhandle her some more.

  “Explain your association with those Alliance monkeys, girl.”

  “Least them two used my name.”

  “Yes, how clever of them. And of you to divulge such information. Were you at least circumspect about the name of the ship on which you so brilliantly serve? Or have you forgotten those who wear such uniforms have done us no favours of late?”

  “No,” Violet said, refusing to look at Quill.

  “No what?” He sounded irritated. Good.

  “No I ain’t told them nothing. See, don’t have to use so many words to say something, Quill. No.”

  Quill’s walking gait became stiffer and faster. He bared his teeth but refused to say anything further. When he reached the crossroad beyond the tavern he stopped, looking up. Violet followed his gaze and found Bandit watching them from atop a cobbler’s sign.

  “Get down here, you,” she called out, pointing at the ground. Bandit did so in a flying leap, his tail billowing out behind him and landing with a splash of muddy water. He looked up at Quill with his head cocked to the side. The Kelpie bared his teeth in a silent growl at the loompa, enough to deter him towards Violet.

  You went to Quill? Violet thought incredulously. Quill?

  “What’s happened at the ship, Quill?” she asked as Bandit tracked mud up her clothing climbing to her shoulder.

  “A discussion you can enjoy with the captain and the skipper. Though I expect you will not.”

  “What?” Violet winced as her hair was pulled.

  “Enjoy it. It beggars the mind that it need be said at all, but do not mention our history and recent difficulties to any of the new hands either.”

  “History?” Violet felt a migraine coming on.

  “Yes, girl.”

  “Don’t know what you mean.” A sharp pain behind the back of her eyes, gnawing at her brain.

  “Grange, Rim. That Guildswoman.”

  “Scarlett,” Violet said. “Her name is Scarlett.”

  “Her name was Scarlett,” Quill snorted. “She has no use for a name now.”

  “No,” Violet said, recalling Quill striking the woman off the deck with the ship’s anchor. “No.”

  “And nothing of Draugr,” Quill droned on. “Or that infernal man you brought back.”

  “Sharpe.”

  “A man we are well rid of.”

  “Thought you liked him.”

  “I did not.”

  The migraine was spreading. Quill’s words weren’t helping, making her think about things she didn’t want to think about. Things he didn’t want her to think about, but wouldn’t shut up about it. So she kept thinking about them. It made no sense.

  “Where’s the skipper?” Violet asked.

  “She did not wish to come for you,” Quill said.

  “And you did?” Violet was sceptical.

  “I,” Quill told her, “will always come for you.”

  Bandit jerked on her hair, pulling her face around. She found herself staring into angry little animal eyes. Right then she wanted to throttle the creature.

  KASPAR MANHANDLED HIS friend back into his own seat, keeping his own body planted squarely between the disappearing girl and his friend.

  “Miners,” he shook his head. “Can’t trust a one of you with a drink in your hand.”

  “Ain’t a miner no more, Niko.” Gravel was slurring his words and sulking to boot. He thumped his chest. “Proud sailor of the Allied worlds, just like you. Like my ma would have wanted me to be.”

  “Thought you never knew your mother.”

  “It’s what she would have wanted,” Gravel insisted.

  “She want you to go about picking fights with folk twice your size and three times as mean? Did you even see the teeth on that Kelpie, Gravel?”

  “Seen bigger.”

  Kaspar was getting exasperated. “And I’m looking at dumber. What was all that about?”

  Gravel shrugged, reaching for his drink.

  “No, yo
u’ve had enough.” Kaspar pulled it out of reach. “All that over a girl? You just met her. She’s not even your . . . your . . .”

  “My what, Niko? My kind, my lot?” Gravel gave him the eye. “You gonna lecture me, Ensign? Really?”

  “Guess not,” Kaspar relented, realising the corner he’d talked himself into. Gravel wasn’t the only one running his mouth off tonight. He gave up the argument, sinking down to the bench next to his shipmate. He ran his hand idly across the table, something scratched into the surface. He frowned. Had the girl done that?

  Then Gravel muttered something he couldn’t make out.

  “What did you just say?”

  “Wondering where yourself was while I was here on my lonesome.”

  “Captain ordered all the Draugr removed from the ship,” Kaspar told him, frowning as he thought back to it. “We were marching them over to the warehouse, next thing I know a riot is breaking out.”

  “Think the captain was worried about that?”

  “Think it’s none of our business, sailor.”

  “You’re a good sailor, Niko. Know just how to salute right.”

  “What’s wrong with your hand?” Kaspar noticed the other was twitching. All restless.

  “Thaumatic,” Gravel grumbled. “Kelpie was a thaumatic.”

  Kaspar scowled at him. “How could you even tell?”

  “How could I not? Was bleeding all out him, made the hair on my nethers stand all up.”

  Kaspar sighed. Of course, Gravel would know. Fellow was worse than a bloodhound when it came to the thaumatically inclined. “Just being that way don’t mean anything, Brandon.”

  Gravel snorted. “Yeah, I know. Don’t think good drunk, ok?”

  “So don’t drink.”

  “Think too much when I’m sober.”

  “I know, I know. I just don’t want to have to explain anything to Aristeia.”

  “Aye, now that we can agree on. Woman scares me more than Mors does and I didn’t know anyone so scary as Mors Coldstream before signing on with you lot.”

  “Be grateful you’ve never been alone with her, landsman. Come on, let’s go.”

  “Back to the ship, aye, sir? Orders and such.” Gravel rose to his feet, and Kaspar clapped him on the shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to have to explain nothing.”

  They hadn’t noticed it but the whole tavern had gone quiet. The noise of the riots outside had long passed but the room had all the festivities of a wake.

  Almost the same time as they left the table was when the golem stepped through the door. Ducking and turning sideways, a brutal grace it did not look to be capable of. And there it stood, blocking the exit, surveying the room with red eyes, firelight bouncing off the glassy hide. The golem had no neck to speak of but gave the impression it was searching the room.

  “Niko,” Gravel whispered hoarsely, visibly shaken.

  “What?” Kaspar didn’t take his eyes of the golem, him and everyone else in the tavern.

  “That thing is looking at us!”

  Kaspar shook his head fiercely. “It’s not looking at us.”

  “The hells it isn’t!”

  “How could you even tell what it’s looking at?” he demanded.

  “Because . . .” Gravel broke off, the next words coming out mangled and blue.

  The golem was moving. Through the room. People got out of its way fast enough but tables and benches had legs that didn’t move. And soon a trail of both lay broken and splintered on the floor. The golem didn’t even acknowledge the obstacles, either stepping through them until they caught and cracked; or onto them to snap the timber in half. It had already crossed half the room.

  And there was next to no doubt now it was coming for them.

  Hells, was all Kaspar could think as the golem raised its hand towards them.

  Chapter 6

  “THIS ONE HAS been drinking,” Quill said, stopping in front of Nel. She looked up from the bill of lading she’d been going over. It held a rundown of everything delivered to the dock as well as an estimate of haulage awaiting them at the Glassy Run, given recent stocks and the rough capacity of the Tantamount.

  “And fraternising with Alliance sailors.”

  That did get Nel’s attention. Fraternising? Violet?

  Alliance?

  Quill had been towing a very demure looking cabin girl behind him. That demure Kitsune suddenly transformed the air around them blue as she laid into Quill with every foul-mouthed obscenity the crew had ever let slip around her and a few she must have picked up ashore. Bandit chimed in with a few opportune squawks, doubling the racket.

  “You done there? Got it all out?” Nel asked when Violet finally paused for air.

  “One would hope,” Quill muttered.

  “Weren’t fraternising.” Violet kicked at him angrily. “Was one drink.”

  “Go help with the loading, Quill.” Nel passed him the bill. “Seems you’re always vanishing when there’s cargo to be shifted.”

  “Seems I am always running to rescue this one,” Quill said.

  “And we’re all grateful, Loveland, now move your hide. I’ll deal with our little fraterniser.”

  Quill was not so easily mollified. “And this will prove helpful how? I can smell the dockside swill upon you as well. And the girl needs no lessons in fraternisation from you, I think.”

  Nel glared. “Nobody asked what you think, Quill, and you don’t get paid extra for it. Get.”

  “Bah,” was all the Kelpie had to say to that, storming back the way he had come and down the boarding ramp.

  “Now, what’s the truth about what he was saying, Vi?” Nel asked, trying to talk calm and slow. Quill had touched more of a nerve than she wanted to admit, damn Kelpie, but she wasn’t going to let it show. “You been getting in trouble? Be straight with me.”

  Violet made a face. “Weren’t getting, Skipper, was staying out. Tavern was the only quiet place with that commotion that went on.”

  “And that bit about fraternisation?”

  “Dunno,” Violet shrugged. “What’s fraternisation anyhow? What’d I do? What’d the Kelpie say I done?”

  “Ah,” Nel smiled. “So you’re not so grown up as all that after all. Was worried you’d grown another tail on me.”

  “If I had I’d be . . .” Violet’s mouth shut hard and fast, enough that Nel heard the girl’s teeth snap.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Didn’t sound like nothing.”

  “Didn’t say nothing. Ain’t saying nothing. It ain’t nothing.”

  “Then it is something?”

  “Skipper!” Violet groaned.

  Nel changed tack. “Tell me how’d you end up drinking with Alliance sailors if you were staying out of trouble. And when’d you start drinking, more’s the point.”

  “Don’t.” Violet screwed up her face. “Didn’t. Just ran out of ways to say no.”

  “So they were buying you drinks?” Nel pressed. “These Alliance sailors?”

  Violet shrugged. “Guess so. Least Gravel was. Until Quill showed up and made a ruckus about it.”

  Nel chuckled but decided to let up on the girl. On this front. They still had serious matters to discuss. “All right, Vi, we’ll let it go. Let’s talk about your meteoric rise in rank. Since when is it your job to find us jobs?”

  “Since . . .” Violet hesitated.

  “The captain ask you to do this, Violet?” Nel asked sternly.

  Hells, would he remember if he did?

  “He said we were desperate.”

  “We were, we are.”

  Violet looked crestfallen, her lower lip was trembling. “You mad at me, Skipper?”

  No, just wanted to skip port before . . . anyone comes calling. Hells, and you drinking it up with boys in white and blue. No chance of running out early now, not with a run on the books.

  “No,” Nel sighed. “I ain’t mad, lass. Just that committing us to something is no small thing. We need
work, aye, but we need to know who we’re working for and what strings they’re trying to pin on us.”

  “I’m sorry, Skipper,” Violet mumbled, hanging her head. “Was just trying to help.”

  “Yeah, I know, lass, I know. Just next time before you think about doing something like this come get me or the captain. Pass it up the chain, like. Last thing we need is more of what happened on that run to Thatch.”

  “Aye, Skipper,” Violet nodded, her whole manner stiffer now.

  Aw, hells, shouldn’t have mentioned Thatch. Not with Piper and . . . hells.

  “And no more drinking with boy folk, neither.”

  “Aye, Skipper.” Still glum, a sniffling nod.

  “Nothing else you need to tell me then? No more surprises you signed us up for? No more midnight trysts or fell adventures?”

  “No, ma’am.” Violet’s response was short and clipped. Not even a skipper to sign off with.

  “Go help with the loading, lass. Make sure Quill ain’t slacking off.”

  Hells, Nel thought, watching the shaking girl go. Handled that something awful. Violet ain’t the only one who needs to shape up and watch what she does. Damned if I don’t need a drink now.

  MANTID WALKED WITH an odd four-legged shuffle, crabbing sideways around the growing pile of salt. It had been transported in a mix of barrels and sacks, containers of dubious quality, and at least one of the containers was failing since being hoisted into the ship. A small but noticeable mound of the coarse grains was starting to gather at the base of the pile. A tell-tale trail littered the floor of the hold, a loose scattering of white rock crystals being ground into dust as the crew went about their duties. Just being around this much salt was causing Violet’s throat to become dry and parched, but Mantid seemed outright anxious.

  “What is it?” she asked her strange new crewmate, anxious for anything to take her mind off her own troubles. At least the pain in her skull was gone, head didn’t feel so cotton-swabbed anymore. Hopefully, the drink was all worn off.

  Mantid’s feet skittered on the wooden boards of the hull, and she wondered how he managed to avoid getting the angular limbs tangled and ending up in a twisted heap. She watched him do another half circle around the cargo and then cautiously back away. His head turned to face Violet. She felt herself flinch at that—she was almost directly behind Mantid and yet he could rotate his flattened head almost all the way around to look at her.