by Stina Leicht
Commander Munitoris addressed Captain Julia. “It’s apparent you didn’t know what you were hauling, or you’d have cashed in on the bounty yourself.” He gave Julia a self-important bow with a sweep of his hat. “The Acrasian Navy appreciates your cooperation as well as your donations, dear lady.”
“I didn’t donate a rutting thing,” Julia said.
“Keep silent, Captain, or I may decide to dismantle more than your ship’s precious rigging.”
“Your emperor may have something to say about that when the Regnum’s contracts with Clan Gannet aren’t renewed,” Julia said. “Be a shame you couldn’t take that ship of yours out of the harbor without her sinking, her being new and all.”
“Is that a threat?” Commander Munitoris asked. “Because if it is intended as such, I will report your behavior to your superior. I understand Sea Lord Gannet isn’t much for half-breeds from Archiron, no matter how much money they have.”
Julia changed the target of her scowl to the deck. Nels saw the muscles in her jaw tighten.
“Are you going to apologize?” Commander Munitoris asked. “Or do I invite you aboard as well and have the apology beaten out of you?”
“I regret my words,” Julia said through her teeth.
“Very well,” Commander Munitoris said, signaling to his lieutenant. “I accept.”
A bosun’s whistle announced the imminent departure of the Regnum’s finest. The flurry of objects hammering the deck as they rained from the rigging intensified like a sudden deadly storm, then the Acrasian sailors abandoned their lofty sabotage.
When it was obvious the danger was past, the Commander said, “And now I leave you to your ship, such as it is.” He fished a snuffbox from the interior of a jacket pocket and partook of a pinch. “Good day.”
Viktor whispered in Eledorean, “Don’t be late.”
“I won’t,” Nels whispered back.
“Gag those creatures now,” the Commander said. “I don’t want them using any of their tricks.”
Nels thought, If any of us had domination magic, you’d be nibbling the end of your pistol right about— He choked as Sebastian crammed the kerchief into his mouth. The ash-laden cloth tasted foul. Nels looked on with stinging eyes as the marines dragged Viktor away. He wished there had been any other alternative.
Changeling. The word probed old wounds, and the barb in its syllables hadn’t dulled with time. I did what I had to do. I did what I could. We’ll find Viktor before anything bad happens.
Somehow.
The dreadnought yanked up her boarding planks, and Viktor vanished in a crush of disgruntled marines.
Please, Hasta. Let me find him before anything bad happens, Nels thought.
“Swiving officious pricks. May the sea rise against them. May the abyss take them, and the sharks chew them to bits before they drown,” Captain Julia muttered and spat. She waited in barely restrained fury until the dreadnought had distanced herself enough that her crew were no longer visible in the dark. “Bastard pressed half my crew and tore out the rigging.”
Sebastian pulled the cloth from Nels’s mouth. “Apologies, Your Grace.”
“Just get my hands free,” Nels said, and spat to clear his mouth of ash. “How much did they give us?”
Captain Julia’s eyes narrowed and a frown tugged at her full lips.
Sebastian said, “I told him you were worth six hundred sterling.”
Nels whistled. “The reward is up that high?”
“I may have exaggerated.” Sebastian shrugged. “Thought if we were only getting half… .”
“You’re getting as bad as Viktor.” Nels stretched and then rubbed his bruised wrists. Sebastian handed over a folio of Acrasian paper notes.
“You sold your friend for the reward?” Captain Julia asked.
“Correction: I sold myself,” Nels said. “It isn’t my fault if the leadbellies can’t tell the difference between an Eledorean infantry scout and a prince.” He counted. “Hrmph. Shorted us by a hundred. Typical. Still, if we’re careful, two hundred Acrasian sterling will get us enough flour for a month or two. If we’re very careful—should we ever get back.” He scanned the decks. “Too bad it doesn’t look like that will be anytime soon.”
“You think I’d let the Acrasian navy get the best of me? It’s not like they’re terribly creative in their sabotage. This?” Captain Julia motioned toward the unstrung rigging. “It’s an old Waterborne trick.” Captain Julia put her fingers to her lips, letting out a shrill whistle. “You can stop your cowering! The leadbellies are gone! Time to get to work!” Her crew began sorting through the tangled lines. “Marley!”
“Yes, sir.” The scarred woman with grey hair who’d fought with the marine stepped forward. Her nose had been badly bloodied. She sniffed and wiped at her face with a stained sleeve.
“Did they take the fetch with them?” Julia asked.
Marley winked. “Stole it right out of the rigging. Activated it per your order.”
“Excellent,” Julia said with a vindictive grin. “That’ll slow them down for a while. If we’re lucky, they’ll not figure out what’s wrong until they’ve sunk in a storm. Clan Gannet won’t be held accountable. Was the Commander’s choice to take the thing onboard, after all. Hells, you even tried to stop him.” She turned her attention to Nels. “Don’t look so glum. We should have the rigging sound in a few hours.”
“In that case, are you still willing to continue on to Norman Island?” Nels asked.
“You’re not swimming right now. That alone should demonstrate where my sympathies lie.” She folded her arms across her chest. “So. You’re the Ghost?”
Nels nodded. Dylan did say Julia could be trusted even if she was half Acrasian. And he trusted Dylan. So did Suvi.
Captain Julia looked away and lowered her voice. “Sorry about the elph crack yesterday.”
“It’s all right.” Nels shrugged. “I’ve heard worse.”
She paused. “I suppose you have.”
“Mind you, not much worse,” Nels said. “And usually not while I was being so charming.”
She grunted. “What of your friend?”
Nels turned to the horizon and watched the dreadnought slip away into the darkness. “We must meet Cousin Edvard first. Even if Lorelei could take on an Acrasian dreadnought—”
He saw Julia’s eyebrow twitch in surprise.
“—we couldn’t take the time to run her down. We wouldn’t arrive at Norman Island in time.” He turned his gaze to the Acrasian ship and tried not to imagine what might be happening to Viktor at that moment. “Chances are he’ll be fine until they get to Rosavallis. They’ll want him alive. And that’s the closest Acrasian port. If we’re at the docks to meet them, I might be able to arrange an escape.” Please let them be headed for Rosavallis. “Sebastian tells me we’re a day’s sail from Norman Island. That’s two days early. Am I correct?”
“And three days from Harper’s Mill, where we’re unloading the sheep,” Captain Julia said.
“Your ship is fast?”
“The fastest you can afford,” she said with a smile. “We could make both ports, unload our cargo, and beat that overweighed, leaky scow to Rosavallis by a whole week even if they didn’t have to contend with that fetch. Provided we don’t dally. Of course, that assumes that I’d be interested in going to Rosavallis.”
Nels asked, “What is a fetch?”
Julia smiled again, and this time, her eyes wrinkled at the corners with vicious mirth. He was beginning to like that smile. “It’s a type of curse used to sabotage a ship whose captain is stupid enough to bring one aboard. The effects vary with the creator and grow more powerful over time. It feeds on negative energy. Anyway, I began taking the precaution of keeping one woven into the rigging after the first time they pulled that gull-shit stunt on me.”
“And what does that particular fetch do?” Nels asked, gazing once again at the dreadnaught’s retreating shadow and worrying again for Viktor.
“For now?” Julia asked. “It only prevents their sails from catching the best wind. But it’ll get stronger. More so as it becomes clear that something is wrong. You see, the more tension builds up on ship between crew members …” She shrugged. “In my experience, the Acrasian Navy is comprised of the most superstitious excuses for crew on the Aegrerian Ocean or any other. Of course, they have had a small amount of encouragement in that capacity from … well … the Waterborne.”
“Really?” Nels asked.
Julia said, “Just because Clan Gannet trade with Acrasians doesn’t mean they actually like them.”
“Oh,” Nels said. “Would you be willing to sail to Rosavallis after Harper’s Mill?”
Again, Julia hesitated. “I’ve commitments to keep. Sea Lord Gannet doesn’t trust me yet. As long as I’m on probation, Lorelei doesn’t have the full benefits of Clan membership. That said, I don’t truck with the Acrasian Syndicate, either. Which means I’m an independent, Mr. Ghost. I’m not sure you understand what that means, so I’ll spell it out for you. Me and mine live on the edge of a strap razor. Me keeping my word is largely what keeps us alive.”
“I know we only booked passage for Norman Island and then Merta,” Nels said. “But I’ll pay whatever—”
“Don’t play me the fool by floating me a lie. I know you don’t have any money except for what you’ve collected by selling your friend,” she said. “It would be pointless to give up what little you’ve gained by hiring me to get him back.”
“I won’t leave Viktor to them,” Nels said. “I can’t. I’ll pay whatever it takes.”
“Then, I think I’ve learned something about you,” she said, tilting her head. “Something that our mutual friend Dylan didn’t mention.”
“You have?”
“You’re quite a bit more loyal to underlings than most Eledorean nobles are reputed to be.”
Nels frowned. “Viktor is no underling. He’s my friend.”
“You’re still an Eledorean noble.”
“Royal, if you want to get specific.”
“Ah, I see,” Julia said. “Eledorean royals, on the other hand, are infamous for being stupidly rash.”
“Nice that I live up to some aspect of the reputation.”
“That said, by the time we’re finished at Norman Island, they’ll be dead in the water,” she said. “I think we can easily enough make a case for breaking the curse in exchange for one extra prisoner in addition to my crew.”
“You’ll be able to find them?”
“Absolutely. That fetch has a number of purposes,” Julia said. “Location is one of them. It costs a great deal in the way of headaches and the occasional nosebleed to create, but it’s worth it when done well. How do you think I was able to afford this fine ship without the help of the Syndicate?”
“You made the fetch?”
“I did,” she said, and then appeared to notice the look on his face. “Do you have something to say?”
“I suspect that I didn’t thank you enough for the reprieve regarding my, ah … earlier misstep,” Nels whispered.
“Are you referring to the moment when you landed face first in the front of my blouse?”
He did his very best not to let his gaze stray from hers.
“You know, I do believe I’m starting to like you, Mr. Ghost.”
“Call me Nels.”
“Wasn’t your name Gunnar yesterday?”
“Gunnar is one of my names.” Nels shrugged. “But my friends call me Nels.”
“Are we friends now, Nels?”
“I hope so. Otherwise, I’m going to owe you one very large sum of money before the end of this journey.”
She raised an eyebrow at him again. “Maybe I’ll give you a chance to work it off. How are you at tying knots?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a terrible sailor.”
“Who said it’d be in the form of working the ship?” With that, she turned her back on him and walked away.
“Oh,” Nels said.
“You know,” Sebastian said. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that woman has designs on your virtue.”
“Shut up, Sebastian.”
“Yes, sir.”
THREE
The setting sun cast orange and red across the ocean’s surface. Lorelei dropped anchor in an inlet surrounded by white cliffs. True to her word, Captain Julia had pushed both ship and crew and had managed to make Norman Island long before dawn. Both the ship’s dinghies were lowered into the sea for the visit landward—the second crew was intended to refresh the ship’s water supply. Nels clambered into the first boat and settled in the prow, shaking. He took a deep breath to steady himself. The near-constant nausea that plagued him whenever he set foot aboard a ship had been tolerable until then. Sitting nearby, Sebastian gave Nels’s white knuckles a pointed look, and Nels forced himself to release the boat’s side. Unfortunately, the dinghy violently rocked at that moment as the last crew member hopped from the main shroud into the boat. Nels’s blood chilled, and his gut clenched. Putting down his stomach’s latest revolt cost him a whispered curse. He squeezed his eyes shut.
“I thought you were remaining on board, Captain?” he heard Sebastian ask.
Nels once again let go of the boat’s side. Captain Julia thumped down on the bench, squeezing between himself and Sebastian. Sebastian moved over to make more room.
“Only making sure of my bargain,” she said. “You still owe me for the last half of your passage.”
The crew set the oars and began their rowing. After the initial jostling, the dinghy glided to shore in confident, predictable surges. Nels let himself breathe and searched for something, anything steady to concentrate upon for his stomach’s sake. He scanned the horizon and decided Norman Island would be a good idea—that is, until he noticed the beach. Surf roared and clawed at the shore. With that, he clutched at the boat’s side once more.
Swive it. It’s only water. You’ll not drown. Not this close to land. If the others don’t see a danger, you shouldn’t. Aware he was being watched, Nels decided to focus on the activity inside the boat. “We don’t need you.”
“Is that so?” She arched her eyebrow. “Do you have other specialties besides bouts of nausea?”
“You’re human—”
“My mother may have been human, but my father was kainen.”
“—and those present will be kainen. Kainen royalty—”
“—from Ytlain,” she said.
“It’s still too dangerous for you,” Nels said. True, Ytlain didn’t have the same abusive history with humans that Eledore did. The Ytlainen simply didn’t go in for crude displays of power. In his experience, they were more subtle and thus more capable of living among others. But equally as dangerous—possibly more so for all that.
“You’re concerned for my safety?” she asked. “I’m not the one knowingly walking into a trap.”
“Who told you about that?” Nels asked.
“Dylan,” she said. “And then your friend Viktor. And sometime during the last dogwatch, your man Sebastian.”
Nels leaned forward to speak to Sebastian. “You told her?”
Sebastian shrugged and turned away.
“He thought you might be in need of help. I can’t imagine why,” Julia said. She made no effort to hide her sarcasm. “For the record, I don’t believe in the absolute power of command magic.”
“You don’t?” Nels blinked, confused.
“Would I endanger my ship by allowing you on board, if I felt you represented a threat? Most of my crew—even before the Acrasian Navy made off with half of it—are human. Although not if you go by the Regnum’s racial purity standards. Like I said, Acrasians are a superstitious lot. They also tend to exaggerate, particularly when it comes to their fear of magic.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Nels said.
“You’re a royal,” Captain Julia said. “And yet we’ve been safe. Absolutely no evidence of this terrible
domination power everyone’s so damned frightened of.”
“Tell me something,” Nels said. “You’ve met my man, Viktor Reini, before they took him away?”
“Of course.”
Nels gestured at himself. “Did he look blond and six foot tall to you?”
“Acrasian marines aren’t selected for their brains. They made a mistake.”
“That was one big mistake,” Nels said.
“I don’t disavow the existence of magic. Only command magic,” she said. “You’ve yet to pay me in dead leaves or force me to do anything against my will.” She paused. “On second thought, you have nearly made me sick against my will.”
“I’m different.”
“How?”
Sighing, he debated what to tell her and came up with nothing. If he admitted his defect to her—if he told her he had no real power of his own, she’d know him for a weakling, and for reasons he wasn’t willing to acknowledge even to himself, her opinion mattered.
The dinghy lurched as the bottom scraped sand. Nels could say this much for her: she had made him forget he’d been sitting on a narrow plank in the middle of a fickle ocean. He staggered out of the boat, splashed to shore, and resisted an urge to kiss one of the trees. Land, sweet land. Then the world tilted a bit to the left, and he caught himself before falling. Swiving hells! Hasta, why must there be oceans?
Captain Julia ran to catch up with him. “Don’t play games with me.”
“You know what you’re doing on the sea. I respect that. I trust you to know your business,” he said, taking another stabilizing breath. “But I know mine. Edvard is a kainen royal with royal powers. Do the smart thing. Stay with your crew. Fill your water casks. The stream should be far enough away from the meeting site that you can get what you need and back to the ship without being noticed.” He continued to the tree line.
“Hells, no. This island belongs to the Kingdom of Ytlain. You can’t order me off of it.” She marched up the beach, hands on her hips. “And like it or not, I’ve an investment in you. I’m going.”
“Suit yourself,” Nels said. “But I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’ Provided you’re alive to hear it.”