by Jon Skovron
“I reckon we’ll have to do this another time, Ambassador,” he heard Brackson say. Then he heard footsteps rapidly retreat. He wanted to chase after him, but all he could do was lie there in Nea’s grasp until the world stopped spinning.
“You’re very heavy,” she said, her voice strained.
“I’m okay now,” he said, getting his feet back underneath him.
“What happened to you?” she asked.
“You didn’t get dizzy when he blew that whistle?” asked Red.
She shook her head. “I did not even hear it. But when he blew it, you suddenly began to stumble around, like you were drunk. Then you pitched forward.”
“Thanks for catching me,” said Red.
“So you really do not know how that happened?” she asked, her face creased with concern.
“Not how. But I have a pretty good idea who.”
The biomancers had done something to him. A fail-safe measure, in case he ever got out of hand. Here he’d been daydreaming about turning their own training against them. But he should have expected something like this. It was exactly the sort of thing they would do.
“I worried he was going to attack me while you were disoriented, but he just ran away,” said Nea.
“Maybe he was worried it would wear off too quickly.” Or maybe Brackson hadn’t been willing to chance a shot at her while she was holding Red. Apparently keeping him alive was more important than killing her. Good to know.
“Let’s go get your people and head back to the palace,” he said at last.
As they made their way through the scattered dead bodies to the stairs, Red noticed that Nea looked ill.
“You alright?” he asked.
“I, uh… now that the danger is past, I am truly taking it all in for the first time.”
“Don’t see a lot of dead bodies in Aukbontar?”
“I have never seen one before in my life,” she said quietly.
“Never?”
She shook her head.
“Wow,” was all Red could say. What kind of place was Aukbontar that someone who wasn’t even nobility could go their whole life without seeing a single dead body?
As they climbed the staircase, Red said, “I reckon you regret coming here now.”
“No,” she said firmly, her face now full of purpose as she climbed the stairs. “We are doing important work here. There has not been diplomatic communication with the Empire of Storms in over three hundred years. I will not fail the Great Congress.”
Once they made it to the second-floor landing, she called, “Citizens! Come out. It’s safe now.”
“Citizen Omnipora?” a frail male voice called.
“Yes, Etcher. Please come out. All of you. We must move to the safety of the palace as quickly as possible.”
Red heard furniture scrape across the floor inside the room. Red guessed they must have barricaded themselves inside. At least someone in there was smart. The half-broken door began to open, but then came loose from its hinges. Red pulled Nea aside as the door fell forward and landed with a hard smack.
Three people stepped awkwardly over the door. All of them had the same dark skin as Nea. They also wore the same broad-shouldered jackets and loose-fitting pants, although in different colors.
“This is Catim Miffety.” Nea indicated a large man in a red jacket and tan pants. His hair was so short, it was little more than black stubble. “He is here to assure the safety of the team.”
“I should have gone with you to the palace,” Catim said in a deep, soft voice that reminded Red a little of Filler.
“Nonsense,” said Nea. “As you can see, I am perfectly safe. And had you not been here, something terrible might have happened to Etcher and Drissa. Then where would we be?”
Catim grunted, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Red. “Who is this?”
“This”—Nea put her hand protectively on Red’s shoulder—“is Lord Pastinas, a close friend of Prince Leston and the reason that I am safe.”
Catim nodded. “My thanks, Lord Pastinas.”
“Don’t mention it, old pot,” said Red.
“Old pot?” he asked.
“And this,” continued Nea smoothly, “is Etcher Kinto, our expert in natural philosophy.” She pointed to a small, thin man wearing a green jacket and yellow pants. “He is here primarily to witness and catalogue the astonishing plants and animals we have heard exist in your fair country.”
“Is it true you have mole rats as big as lions?” Etcher asked eagerly, wringing his hands.
“What’s a lion?” asked Red.
“There will be plenty of time for that later, I am sure,” said Nea. “The last member of my team is Drissa, our master machinist.” She indicated a short, stout woman in a dark blue jacket and dark green pants. She also had a dark green cloth that covered her hair. She said nothing, but nodded shyly.
“A machinist?” Red asked Nea. “Like your dad?”
“Similar, but much more advanced. Isn’t that right, Drissa?”
Drissa smiled and looked down at her feet.
“Drissa can understand your language well enough, but speaking it does not come easily to her. Her skill lies in other areas.”
“Well, it’s sunny to meet you all, toms and molly alike, but we better slide before any more boots show, keen?”
All four of them looked at him in bewilderment.
He laughed. “Let’s go before anyone else starts shooting at us.”
Nea’s “team” had a wagon made of steel. Even though it wasn’t large, it was so heavy, they had four horses to pull it. Most of the wagon was taken up with crates. Catim and Drissa sat among them. Nea took the reins up front, with Etcher and Red sitting next to her. The crates were stacked so high that Red couldn’t see the two passengers in the back. But he figured they weren’t really in that much danger. If Brackson was the one in charge, it would take him a while to run back to the biomancers and tell them everything that happened, and longer for him to get another crew together.
It was a good thing, too, because the wagon moved extremely slow as it made its way back to the palace. During the drive, Etcher battered Red with questions about animals and plants that were apparently unusual in Aukbontar. Mole rats, oarfish, seals, and goblin sharks seemed particularly interesting to him. He even asked about krakens, although Nea laughed and told him to be serious. Having grown up in New Laven, Red hadn’t encountered any of those animals personally, but he’d heard a few things from Finn and others, so he did his best to answer.
They finally arrived at the palace gates just before sunrise. The predawn light tinted the white outer walls of the palace a faint red as Red stood up on the wagon and waved to the guards above the gate.
“Hello, my wags! I’ve returned home with the prince’s very special guests! Would you mind letting us back in?”
The iron gates slowly opened and the wagon trundled through. Once they were past the threshold, though, an imp stepped in front of the horses and held up his hands for them to stop.
“Sorry, my lord,” he said apologetically to Red. “All cargo must be inspected for security risks. Orders from the commander.”
“Alright. I guess we’re safe enough now that we’re through the gates,” said Red. “And I suppose the prince can wait a bit longer for his guests.”
The imp flinched when Red mentioned the prince. “We’ll have you through just as soon as we can, my lord.”
“Thanks. Is Captain Murkton still on duty?”
“His shift ended a couple hours ago, my lord.”
“Tell Captain Murkton his revolver might well have kept peace in the empire. At least for tonight.” He handed the gun down to the imp.
“I’ll pass that along, my lord.”
Red had assumed the inspection would take only a few minutes. But the sun slowly rose while he and Nea still waited. He put his tinted glasses on and turned to Nea. “I’ll go see what the trouble is.”
He hopped down and walked to t
he back of the wagon. Two imps were looking suspiciously at an open crate. Inside was a metal contraption like something Alash would put together, but much larger. Ammon Set’s words came back to him: Their advancements in the mechanical sciences are beyond your comprehension. But Red wasn’t about to let biomancer paranoia get the best of him.
“Something gone leeward, my wags?” he asked the imps. “Maybe I can help move things along.”
“It’s this… thing, my lord.” One of the imps pointed at the contraption. “They won’t tell us what it is or what it’s for.”
Catim was looking impatient, bordering on angry, and Drissa was saying something nervously over and over again in her language.
“I did tell you,” Catim growled at the imps. “It is a machine.”
“But what is that?” retorted the imp.
“Oh, a machine.” Red pointed to Drissa. “She’s a machinist, so I reckon she knows all about it.”
“Yes, my lord,” said the other imp. “But she can’t speak a word of the empire’s tongue. Just jabbers on in some foreign nonsense every time we touch it.”
Red looked hopefully at Catim. “You got nothing for me here, old pot?”
“It is a machine,” he said helplessly. “An engine. It makes things go.”
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” said Red. “Makes what go?”
“Anything you like. A ship, a train—”
“What is a train?” one of the imps demanded.
“It is a…” Catim stretched his hands wide, then scowled and made fists. “I do not know the words for it!”
“Alright, calm down, Catim, my wag,” Red said soothingly. “Let’s go get Nea. She can probably sort this out, simple as sideways.”
But just as Red got back to the front of the wagon, he heard Prince Leston’s voice crack across the courtyard, sounding angrier than Red had ever heard him. He looked like he hadn’t slept that night either.
“What is the meaning of this? Why are you detaining my honored guests?”
“S-s-sorry, Your Highness,” said the imp in the front. “The commander said—”
“Tell the commander I will speak with him at great length later today. Now, release my guests.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” The imp hurried to the back of the wagon and a minute later, all three guards moved quickly back to their posts at the wall.
Prince Leston moved to stand next to the wagon. He looked up at Nea, his face pained. “Ambassador Omnipora. I must apologize for the rudeness of my men.”
“No apology necessary,” she said. “I now understand why safety is such a concern for you and your subjects.”
Leston’s expression creased with worry. “So my fears were founded?” The prince’s sudden, passionate interest in politics still seemed very odd to Red.
“I’m afraid so, Your Highness. My people are unharmed, but a great many of yours were killed. We would likely have shared their fate if not for Lord Pastinas.”
Leston grabbed Red’s upper arms and held them tightly. “Thank you, my friend. I may never be able to repay you for what you have done tonight.”
“Oh, it’s nothing any upstanding lord raised in the slums of New Laven couldn’t handle.”
Leston held out his hand to Nea. “My men will bring your things up to your chambers. Will you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you there?”
“That would be wonderful, Your Highness,” she said. “It has been a very long night.”
Red watched the prince help her down from the wagon and a suspicion began to grow in his mind. Maybe it wasn’t about politics after all. Was the prince such a salthead that he let himself get sotted with a molly at first sight? And one who happened to be the ambassador of a foreign country? Red hoped not.
“I want you to know, Ambassador,” Leston said, once Nea was on the ground, “that I am at your beck and call. I dearly wish to make up for this terrible night and hope that from now on, your stay here is as pleasant and productive as possible.”
“I am grateful, Your Highness,” said Nea. “The open and friendly communication between our two peoples is the most important thing in the world to me.”
“Then it is to me, as well,” said the prince.
Yep, thought Red. Completely sotted.
9
Hope allowed the crew a slow start the morning after the celebration. Then they loaded the new cannon plates Filler had made onto the ship. It was nearly noon when they finally set sail, heading east-southeast. It wasn’t the most direct route to Dawn’s Light, but with the sizable imperial presence at Vance Post, Hope felt it was worth taking a more circuitous passage to avoid that island.
They sailed for several days without incident. But once they were getting close to the Breaks, Hope put everyone on guard.
“We’ll cross the north end, but I want you to give it a wide berth,” she told Missing Finn. “The current is so strong, this ship barely made it past the last time.”
“You’ve made this crossing before?”
“Once, when I first joined the crew of the Lady’s Gambit. Which reminds me… Jilly, I want you up in the royals. Be on the lookout for pirates. Possibly a small party in a sloop.”
“I don’t reckon they’ve got much of a chance against us,” Jilly said confidently.
“Probably true, but we’ve proven a lesser ship can overcome a larger one with enough surprise. So let’s not give it to them.”
Jilly gave her a smart salute. “Aye, Captain.”
“Didn’t Brigga Lin get you a pair of shoes in High Guster?” asked Hope as she watched the barefoot girl clamber up the ratlines.
“She did, Captain. And much obliged. But shoes aren’t good for climbing in the rigging.” She hooked her legs over the main yard and hung upside down so her head was near Hope’s. More quietly, she said, “And to speak crystal, the shoes she picked are a bit too lacy for me. All pointy and smooth.”
Hope nodded gravely. “And that’s not pat, is it?”
Jilly gave her an upside-down grin. “No, sir, it ain’t!” Then she pulled herself up and continued her climb up the rigging.
“You ever seen a monkey, Captain?” asked Finn.
Hope shook her head. “I’ve read about them.”
“I seen one once. A wag from Aukbontar had it as a pet. Our Jilly climbs just like one of them, natural as you please. I bet she’d put her hammock up there if you let her.”
“I don’t think Brigga Lin would approve.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to displease that one.” He shuddered. “What she did to that biomancer… I never seen a thing like that before.”
“Sometimes it’s easy for us to forget that she was raised most of her life as one of them.”
Finn looked at her. “Does a person ever really come back from that?”
“I’d like to think we can all come back from whatever darkness we’ve encountered,” said Hope. “With time. And perhaps some help.”
When the Kraken Hunter reached the Breaks, Hope found them just as impressive as she remembered. A line of reefs that ran north to south, jutting thirty feet or more up into the sky. They stood against the prevailing current that ran east to west, so the water seemed to boil at their base. The last time she’d seen the sight, it had been with Sankack, Ticks, and Ranking—all crew members of the Lady’s Gambit, now dead.
As Missing Finn took a wide arc around the northern tip of the reefs, Hope called up to Jilly. “Any sign of pirates, Jilly?”
“No, Captain!” the girl yelled down from her perch.
“You look almost disappointed,” said Finn. “Craving a bit of action, were you?”
“There’s something about it that makes me uneasy,” said Hope. “This has always been a popular area for pirates. One ship gets sunk, another comes to fill the void. So if there aren’t pirates anymore, is something worse here now?”
Once they’d crossed the northern tip of the Breaks, Hope saw the strange collection of shipwrecks pile
d up on the eastern side of the reefs. After a moment, she walked over to the hatch and stuck her head down the steps to the lower deck.
“Alash, you’ll want to see this.”
Hope returned to the quarterdeck, and a few minutes later, Alash joined her.
“You wanted to show me something?”
Hope handed him her glass and pointed to the shipwrecks along the reef.
Alash turned the glass to the reef. “Ah, ships pulled on the prevailing westerly into the reefs. Yes, I would think—wait, is that…” His mouth opened wide. “Is that an iron ship?”
“There are a couple of them, if you look close,” said Hope. “I remembered seeing them a few years ago and wondered how such a thing could stay afloat. I thought perhaps you might have some ideas.”
“Well, the theory is sound, and of course there have been small working prototypes made. But this… The scale of these ships… It’s a feat of engineering that borders on the miraculous!” He was smiling broadly now, and pressing the glass to his eye. “I’m not sure I would have believed it possible if I hadn’t seen it myself. Thank you for showing me this!”
“Where do you think they come from?” asked Hope.
“Most likely they drifted from the east.”
“From across the Dawn Sea?”
“I suppose some could have come from the north, or wrecked right here coming too close to the reefs. But considering we’ve seen nothing like these iron ships, I’d say it’s possible they came from a civilization on the other side of the Dawn Sea that is even more advanced than our own!” He turned his glass to the empty horizon, as if he could somehow see across the leagues to mysterious, fantastical lands. “Can you imagine? The world never disappoints, does it!”
This was the side of Alash that Hope liked best. The earnest, wide-eyed, wondering scientist who had nearly run her over with one of his strange contraptions the first time they’d met.
“What’s he going on about now?” asked Brigga Lin as she walked over to them.
“Miss Lin, come share this with us!” Alash beamed at her, a red ring around his eye from where he’d pressed the glass so hard it left a mark. “The world proves once again that no matter how much we think we know, there is still so much more to discover! Isn’t it marvelous!” He grabbed her hands and pressed them to his chest. It was such a simple and impulsive gesture, but Brigga Lin’s eyes went wide and her entire body stiffened.