Ocean of Dust

by Graeme Ing

  The crew chief arrived, accompanied by two of his men. A deep frown creased his brow and he picked at his beard. He placed his huge fists on either hip and leaned over to glare at the two girls.

  "What's going on?" he barked.

  "These two stole from a local merchant," Bardas said. He kicked Lissa's foot. "Looks like this one was givin' orders to Alice."

  "That's not true," Lissa cried. "I'm not a thief."

  "Then what's this?" Alice snatched a pouch from Lissa's skirt pocket, and emptied a pile of coins into her lap.

  Lissa stared at the coins. How did Alice know about her Bandit winnings?

  "I didn't steal them," she said. "They're mine."

  "Yeah right. This is all yours?" Alice stabbed a finger into Lissa's arm. "You've been stealing from the crew. I've seen you."

  "No! No, I haven't. They're mine. I didn't steal them."

  "I don't believe you," the crew chief said. "You can explain to Farq."

  Lissa whimpered and her stomach lurched. Sick rose in her throat. "No, listen to me, please."

  The tall creature glided forward.

  "Forgive me for intervening,” it said in a chirping, bird-like voice, “but I can assist in the truth of this matter."

  The crew chief stepped back and acknowledged it with a nod. His expression softened and a puzzled frown appeared.

  "I'm all ears," he said, then glancing at the creature's prominent ears, added, "I... I mean, I'll listen, of course."

  "The human female with the red hair tells the truth."

  His gaze flicked to Lissa. "She does?"

  It nodded slowly, and its ears twitched and rotated. "She has no knowledge of the theft. The human female named Alice is entirely at fault."

  "That's a lie," Alice shrieked. Bardas kicked her.

  "The currency before us does indeed belong to the red-haired female," the creature continued. "She is honoring a promise not to reveal who gave it to her."

  Lissa realized that her mouth was wide open again, and closed it. Was the creature reading her mind? Why was it helping?

  "Given to her you say?" the crew chief repeated, scrutinizing Lissa all the while.

  He turned to the tall creature and dipped his head. "Y'seliche et-mara. Bardas, take Alice back to the ship. I'll make good the cost of the damages with that shopkeeper."

  Bardas forced Alice to return every coin back in the pouch and return it to Lissa, then he seized her arm and dragged her away into the crowd.

  Lissa found herself staring at the creature. She blinked, mirroring its action, and then dipped her gaze. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare."

  "But you did nonetheless," it said in a perfect imitation of her voice.

  Lissa gasped. "How did you do that?"

  "Your language is childishly primitive compared to our own. It is not difficult to learn." Again, Lissa heard her own voice.

  "No, I don't mean how well you speak my language. I mean how can you imitate me like that?"

  "As I said, your language is simple."

  Lissa shook her head. It hadn't really answered her question. "Who are your people, if I may ask?"

  "You may ask, but you couldn't pronounce it." It tossed its ears back and forth, and Lissa interpreted that as a shrug.

  A passer-by laughed. "You won't get nowhere with them, girl. They'll talk you in circles all day."

  "Why did you help me?" Lissa asked it.

  "We are evangelists for truth," it replied, returning to its own voice.

  What did that mean? "How do you know all those things about me?"

  "Enjoy your stay on the island, little human. You possess the courage to question. Develop that talent, for with it comes wisdom."

  It flicked its ears back and walked away with huge, effortless strides, the crowd parting and closing in behind it. Lissa stared after it. She had never realized that the world was filled with so many strange races. She felt a tug on her arm and turned to see Branda, looking flushed and panting again. What was she doing, running around the whole plaza?

  "Can you write?" Branda asked between breaths.

  "Of course, why?"

  "Follow."

  Branda slipped her hand into Lissa's and tugged her along a row of stalls.

  "Sorry I run off. I see men from Valin. I ask them get message to Mama."

  "You can do that?" It would be wonderful to tell her mother that she was alive, so that she wouldn't mourn.

  "Men send me here," Branda said, stopping.

  A local woman with nut-brown hair sat behind a wheeled cart piled high with envelopes, pens and bottles of ink. A flapping, white sheet provided shade for the cart and the tables set out in front.

  "Good morning, yoon travelers," the woman said with a smile.

  "You write letter for me?" Branda asked Lissa.

  "I'd love to but I don't know Valinese script."

  "Oh." Branda's shoulders sagged, and her eyes lost their sparkle.

  "I coon scribe for you, little oon," the woman said.

  "That's great," Lissa said. "We'd like to send two letters please, one to Valin and one to Pelen, if you know where that is. I can write that one."

  The stall-owner dipped her head. "As you like."

  She handed over a sheet of clean parchment, a pen and a bottle of ink.

  "Two seelver coins foor both, with the translation."

  Lissa fished the coins from her pouch. Branda gasped at the sight of so much money.

  The woman beckoned to Branda. "Come and sit beside me, little oon."

  "Thank you, thank you, Lissa," Branda said.

  Lissa took her materials to a table and slumped in the chair. She put the inked pen to the parchment and then withdrew it. She chewed her lip and tried again. Sentences and memories flicked around her mind. Where to start? What to say? Her pen hovered above the paper for several long moments. Finally, she started to write and didn't stop until the end.

  Dearest Mother,

  I miss you so very much. I bet you've been worried sick about me.

  Two men dragged me off on my way home and brought me aboard a ship to work in the galley. I'm sorry you didn't know what happened to me. I'm all right. Try not to worry. I've made some friends. I remember everything you taught me, especially about cooking. Your recipes are very helpful and remind me often of home, and of you.

  The ship's called The Fair Maiden of Yamin. We are far to the south in a place called Us-imyan. I don't know where we're going next. I don't know if we'll ever return to Pelen. I'll try to write you when I can. Please don't try to write back or I'll get into trouble.

  I beg you not to worry, Mother. I love you very, very much.

  Your loving daughter,

  Lissa.

  She blotted her tears that dotted the parchment, weighted it under the ink bottle and sat back, giving in to the heaving sobs and flooding tears. She would do anything to run back inside her mother's inn and promise to be the most obedient, devoted daughter in the world. She would never again complain about sweeping the common room.

  Branda sat opposite her, also sobbing and sniffling. Lissa dried her eyes on her shirt and looked up at the stall-keeper standing patiently before them. The woman set two cool mugs on the table and carefully picked up Lissa's letter.

  "The drinks are my treat," she whispered. "Cry no moor. All your dreams will oon day be true."

  * * *

  Lissa couldn't wait to go to the festival. It would be so much fun after the boredom and hard work on the ship. For a moment, she forgot about all the hardships, except for a nagging doubt that she and Branda wouldn't be allowed to go. The physiker had said they could. He even told them to wear their best clothes.

  Late in the afternoon, she awoke from a nap. The men said the ship would load water from the island before departing, so she spent extra time in the washroom, soaping and rinsing her hair twice, humming to herself. Once it had dried, she braided and clipped it back.

  Ignoring the simple, decoy dress she had laid aside earlie
r, she reached behind a stack of empty crates, and pulled out the beautiful green dress. She smiled. Alice would never have found it. Where had Alice been all day?

  The main deck was eerily empty. The only sounds were the whispering creaking of ropes, and muted voices from below. Eldrar had set, and the ocean of dust had half swallowed the smaller sun, Indar. Now that they were secured to the wharf, the movement of the ship was hard to notice.

  "What a dreamy green," Branda said, crossing from the infirmary door. She fingered the fabric of Lissa's dress. "Where you get that?"

  "I told you, remember? I was sizing it." Lissa stepped back. "You look very pretty."

  Branda's silver dress hung from her shoulders to her ankles, cinched by a red sash around her tiny waist. Red ribbons were tied into her hair, matching the tattoo lines on her forehead. It was a mysterious look, but Lissa liked it.

  "Not bad for a pair of galley girls," she said, and they both giggled. "Who'd have thought we'd ever get to dress pretty?"

  "This so exciting," Branda replied. Seeing the physiker, she ran across the deck to join him.

  Lissa started to follow but overheard a drifting snippet of conversation from Farq's office. It sounded like Lyndon behind the closed door.

  "I can guarantee thirty-thousand dujins," Lyndon said, "even fifty."

  She tiptoed closer, her eyes wide. How rich was his family?

  "Are you trying to bribe me?" Farq said.

  "No, sir. It's merely a trade. One weighted in your favor, if I may say so."

  She rolled her eyes. He was so full of himself, trying to sound like his father no doubt, but talking to Farq like that took guts.

  "Is it?" Farq said. From the sound of his boots on the deck, he was pacing his office.

  "Deliver the goods to me, and I release you from the ship, is that it? You'd better explain yourself clearly, boy. My patience is thin."

  "Y... yes, sir. It works like this-"

  "Lissa, come on," the physiker said.

  She leaped from the door and hurried across to him and Branda, where they waited by the gangway. She prayed Farq hadn't heard her name. Her cheeks became hot, and she glanced at the physiker. Had he noticed her eavesdropping? They started down the gangway, and she followed, thinking back to Lyndon's conversation with Alice in the hold.

  Chapter 13 - Festival

  Between the wharf and the town, flocks of shipfolk moved along walkways so narrow in places that only two people could walk abreast. Lissa almost didn't recognize the scruffy crew with their beards trimmed and dressed in clean, if simple clothing. Some of the people from other ships wore elaborate uniforms made of light and airy material, because it was warm on the island even after suns-set. The physiker wore a well-tailored burgundy shirt and tan pants. She and Branda seemed to be the only women except for the locals. At first, she felt self conscious in her dress, but thankfully no one seemed to be paying the girls any attention.

  From the plaza, local guides directed them up the winding streets and stairs, deep into the town. The mountain formed a dark shape against the star-filled sky. Music carried above the murmur of the crowds. Soft and flickering lights illuminated the way, and she studied the crystal bowls filled with a resin that burned with white flames. Similar bowl lights had been set in the windows of buildings.

  The festival arena was a natural hollow several hundred feet across. Shops crowded around the circumference, filling the night air with mouth-watering aromas of spiced meat, herbs, bread, cakes and baked nuts of all kinds. Others displayed urns, barrels and stacks of mugs.

  She studied a web of rope strung above the entire arena, from which hung colored globelights and bunches of fragrant flowers and vines. The globelights had been arranged into clusters that resembled the constellations.

  A pair of the bald, dwarven sailors bumped into her, and chattered angrily in their own language.

  "Sorry," she said, and hurried after the physiker and Branda, who had descended to one of eight terraces cut into the sides of the amphitheater.

  "This is incredible," she said, fluffing a plush cushion. She sat with Branda to her left and the physiker to her right.

  A low table stretched along the terrace in front of them. She scanned the incredible feast set out before her: plates heaped with meats, cheeses, breads, and bowls of dipping sauces. There were pitchers of juice and other drinks.

  "Help yourself," the physiker said. "The Imyans treat their guests generously."

  He speared a cut of meat with a fork, wrapped it between an oval unleavened bread and took a large bite. Lissa grinned at Branda.

  Sand covered the flat base of the arena below them. An orchestra of drums, sigilits and sakdra played softly as the crowds streamed onto the terraces. The arena probably held hundreds of people. She looked around her as she ate, anxious not to miss a thing. At home, the festival was held in Market Street, by the lake - nothing as elaborate as this.

  The music stopped and a flourish of drums drew the attention of the crowd. A bowl of fire flared up beside the orchestra, illuminating a woman dressed in simple, white clothing. She raised her hands and the chatter stilled.

  "Welcome travelers," she shouted. Her clear voice filled the arena but lacked the local accent. "This night is in honor of you. May trade forever flourish, and flux currents run strong."

  The crowd cheered, clapped and whistled.

  "This night, forget your chores, forget your ships, forget the long journeys ahead of you. Eat, drink and above all, enjoy."

  The woman repeated her welcome in seven languages. After each, a different section of the audience cheered. Finally, she sat down.

  A line of eight warriors entered from behind her, spreading two by two across the arena floor. They carried staves taller than themselves, but instead of armor, they were bare-chested. At the sound of a single drumbeat, they rushed each other, weapons swinging. The audience roared. Lissa choked on a slice of solag pie.

  "It's all right," the physiker whispered. "The idea isn't to hit each other, but to demonstrate skill and accuracy."

  Despite his assurance, she held her breath as the men assaulted each other with such force that she feared bones would shatter. The staves clacked loudly, but each man moved to block the blows, swiveling and ducking with disciplined precision. They fought tirelessly and without words. Grimacing with each blow, Lissa let her gaze wander. Pete sat with the rest of the crew, laughing and stuffing his face with food. There was no sign of Alice. Hopefully she had been locked up on the ship and forced to miss the festival. One terrace above, Farq conferred with Lyndon. She chewed her lip and poured herself more juice.

  The crowd erupted in applause while the warriors marched off. The music started up once more, and she turned her attention to a troupe of women dressed in furs and feathers. They launched into a vigorous dance, weaving back and forth, round in circles and darting between each other's legs. With raucous whoops, they tumbled from one end to the other. Many in the audience bounced up and down, and clapped their hands to the stirring beat.

  Lissa scanned the table in front of her, looking to try something new. The physiker had wandered away, so she reached for the flask he had been drinking from.

  "Not drink that," Branda whispered, and tried to take it away.

  "Why?"

  "Hossiw. Strong. Taste nasty."

  It smelled sweet and tangy, but it burned as Lissa swallowed, making her cough. It had a strong, citrus taste, but warmed her insides. She reclined into the soft cushions and continued to sip the new drink, mesmerized by the exaggerated yet graceful movement of the dancers and the rich intricacy of the music.

  When the dancing ended and the applause and cheering had died down, men from one of the other ships descended to the stage, carrying drums and sigilits. Huddling in the center of the arena, they burst into song, their deep bass voices contrasting the trilling whoops of the previous act. One of them beat on his drum and then the other instruments joined in.

  Lissa refilled her mug and c
losed her eyes. The chill breeze on her skin contrasted the burning of the Hossiw inside her. The melody raced faster and faster. The audience sang along, whistling and slapping their thighs. She realized her own feet shuffled to the rhythm, and smiled. After their third song, the men fell silent, and the crowd leaped to their feet to cheer. She started to rise, but a wave of heat flooded up into her head and the arena spun viciously around her. With a long moan, she collapsed back down.

  "What wrong?" Branda said, crouching beside her.

  "You're right, that drink is strong."

  The physiker appeared and sniffed the mug. "Have you been drinking Hossiw all this time?"

  She nodded, gave a tiny belch and grimaced.

  "No wonder you feel woozy, you foolish girl. Branda, tip that out and pour her water."

  She lay back and sipped at the water. It tasted cool and fresh, not like the earthy flavor of the ship's water. There didn't seem to be any rivers or lakes on the island, just dust everywhere. Where did the locals get their water? Did they have water fountains too?

  The entertainment continued nonstop, but she was content to close her eyes and listen to the music and cheering of the crowd. When the woman announced fire-eaters, her eyes flicked open and she leaned forward. The arena no longer spun but her head felt full of mud.

  Farq stood and headed upward to the back of the arena. Lyndon followed him, and they slipped into the crowds loitering outside the stores. She pushed herself up and squeezed past Branda to the stairs. Branda started to follow.

  "No, stay here," Lissa whispered.

  She stumbled on the shallow steps. If she moved her head too fast, the world blurred. Hordes of onlookers filled the perimeter walkway. She sucked in deep breaths and blinked repeatedly, trying to clear her head. The bass from the drums echoed eerily off the buildings, and suddenly everything crowded in on her. Needing to escape, she pushed through the throng to the back. Two narrow lanes descended toward the wharf, each marked by a trail of flickering bowls. Both lanes were deserted.