by Jon Skovron
“That’s worth something,” said Red.
“I don’t need money,” said the Black Rose. “I want an audience with this empress.”
Vaderton looked ready to object, but Red shot him a warning glance and he stayed silent.
“Can’t get you that myself,” Red told the Black Rose. “But I’ll introduce you to someone who can. It’ll be up to you to convince her you’re worthwhile. Good enough?”
The Black Rose considered it, then nodded. “That’ll do.”
“Sunny,” said Red. “So what do you have for me?”
“Gavish Gray’s ship is a smuggling vessel called the Rolling Lightning. He’s been running various things up and down the eastern side of the empire, but he’s based in Vance Post. Last I heard, Brigga Lin and Jilly were on his crew. When they’re in Vance Post, they put up at an inn in the Shade District called the Past Is Forgotten.”
“What about Alash?” asked Red. “I heard he might be in Vance Post, too.”
“Hadn’t heard that,” said the Black Rose. “But it’s a big place. Maybe he is.”
“And what about Hope?” pressed Red. “Anything at all you can tell me?”
“Gavish told me that the last he saw of her, she was heading south from Dawn’s Light. Alone, and without that sword of hers.”
“Well,” said Red, thinking about the thirty or so Vinchen that were after her. “That’s not good.”
PART TWO
A “warrior” is one who makes war. It’s right there in the name. So can a warrior truly seek peace? I suspect that this paradox within myself, as both warrior and peacemaker, will eventually come to a head, and my resolve will be tested. In many ways, I long for that day. Only then will I know for certain if I have found a new path.
—from the private journal of Hurlo the Cunning
9
Brigga Lin’s mentor used to say that a biomancer never stopped learning.
Recently, Brigga Lin had learned that she really liked sex.
She liked pressing her lips to Gavish Gray’s prickly mouth. She liked the harsh scrape of his stubble on her cheek. She liked squeezing the lean muscle of his arms under his white sailor’s shirt, and she liked tearing the thin cotton material off him to reveal the sweaty slabs of his pectorals. She liked feeling his back muscles tremble with one hand as she drew her nails across them with the other. She liked how he used his large, calloused hands to gently cup her breasts while he kissed the soft skin of her throat and pressed his engorging penis against her bare inner thigh. She liked to smack his penis playfully and watch it bob up and down eagerly while his breath came in harsh grunts.
She liked the feel of their naked bodies pressed against each other, the sweat sealing them together for a moment, then audibly peeling apart as she pushed away. She liked pressing her hands down hard on his chest as she straddled him, feeling him fight for each breath. She liked the heat of his penis as she slid it inside her. She liked how she engulfed him, surrounded him, squeezed him, until she owned him. She liked how he fought against her strength while she rocked back and forth, sometimes sliding nearly all the way off him, only to plunge back down. She liked arching her back so that she could reach behind and dig her nails into the meat of his inner thighs. But as his movement grew more frantic, she always leaned forward again so she could look at his face. Because the thing she liked best of all was watching the jaded, world-weary pirate grow vulnerable and helpless beneath her as he climaxed. More often than not, that was what brought her to her own climax.
But once her own climax abated, it was her turn to feel vulnerable. Brigga Lin had never before been in the habit of doubt or introspection, but recently those things had begun to creep in. Perhaps this growing insecurity had been caused by Hope’s sudden departure and the fracturing of the only group of people she had ever found a sense of community with. Or perhaps it was the unpredictable flashes of foresight that continued to plague her with their hazy possible futures. Whatever it was, it left her at once restless and directionless. It was a feeling that only sex seemed to quell, and then only temporarily.
Now, she and Gavish lay in a narrow bed on a lumpy mattress in a tiny room at a disreputable inn. Moonlight spilled through the open window, the cool night breeze drying the sweat and other fluids on their naked bodies.
“Does it bother you that I once had the body of a man?” she asked quietly.
“Why would it?” he asked. “I’ve tossed with toms before.”
“Really? You like both?”
“You lacies put too much into that sort of thing,” he said. “Fun is fun, and us common folk are keen enough to take it wherever we can find it. There ain’t a whole lot to go around, after all.”
“Am I lacy, by your estimation?”
“You were born into privilege, weren’t you? Nice house, education, and the like?”
“I suppose so.”
“Then you’re a lacy,” he said in a matter-of-fact sort of tone. Then he turned his head to look at her and grinned. “Although you’re a damn sight more useful than most lacies.”
“For tossing, as you put it?” she asked. “Or for my assistance in your pirating endeavors?”
“Both, of course. That’s what makes you my favorite person in the world.”
“Even more than your precious Black Rose?” She said it somewhat teasingly, but with an underlying edge. Brigga Lin was not accustomed to jealousy, either, but it seemed to come with the territory of doubt.
“The Black Rose and I were through when I killed that biomancer. I did that one last thing for her on account of the fondness I once had for her. But she’s a different person now, and one I ain’t sure I like. A good pirate knows when to cut his losses and look for more pleasant pastures.”
“Are you comparing me to a pasture?” Brigga Lin ran her nails across his chest.
He laid the flat of his hand on her lower abdomen. “Well, I surely do like plowing your field.”
“Pirate humor is so crass,” she said.
“It’s part of our charm,” he said.
“Debatable.”
There was a tentative knock at the door.
“This better be good,” called Gavish.
“Sorry, Captain,” came Fisty’s voice outside the door. “You wanted to know as soon as the prize made port.”
Gavish Gray sighed. “That I did. We’ll be out in a minute.”
“Aye, sir,” came Fisty’s voice.
Gavish slowly sat up and ran his fingers through his prematurely gray hair. “We best get a move on.”
“Where are we sailing to now?” Brigga Lin swiveled her body around so that her bare feet touched the chill wooden floorboards.
“Nowhere, actually. A pirate knows that sometimes it’s better to let the mark come to you.”
“We’re going to rob a ship right here in Vance Post? Aren’t the local authorities known for their strict peacekeeping?”
“That’s only a problem if we get caught.” Gavish pulled on his trousers. “And we won’t.”
“You have a plan, I take it?”
“Naturally.” He held up the shreds of his shirt and gave Brigga Lin a hard look. “I don’t suppose you could use your biomancery to repair the damage you done to my shirt?”
“Living things only.” She pursed her lips. “If you like, I could make your body hair grow to cover you like a shirt.”
He shuddered. “No thanks.”
“Half your crew are usually shirtless,” Brigga Lin pointed out. “Why don’t you just do the same?”
He gave her an injured look. “I’m the captain. I have to at least look a tiny bit more respectable than the rest.”
Things were great.
Jilly found she had to remind herself of that a lot. She was crewing a ship with a quality group of true wags, many of them, including the captain, from Paradise Circle. She didn’t have to pretend to be a boy anymore. She could drink as often as she liked. She could curse and spit and nobody said a thing against i
t. What’s more, the ship she worked on was one of the most notorious smuggling vessels in the eastern half of the empire. If a person needed cargo moved discreetly anywhere from Vance Post to Pauper’s Prayer, the Rolling Lightning was the ship to hire. Everyone knew that. Much of that reputation came from the strong leadership of Captain Gavish Gray, who had recognized Jilly’s usefulness right away. He never coddled her or tried to protect her like she was some little kid. Respect. That’s what he gave her, and so did the rest of the crew.
And it wasn’t like she’d completely left everything else behind. She still had Brigga Lin as a master. One of the most powerful women who ever lived was teaching Jilly everything she knew. Or she would. Once she had the time.
Whenever Jilly thought about her life, it was perfectly obvious how great it was. So it was a little strange that it didn’t actually feel great all that often.
Like many inns in Vance Post’s Shade District, the Past Is Forgotten had a tavern on the first floor, and rooms on the second floor. It was a good idea, really. A person could drink themselves cross-eyed and still find their way to bed. Not that Jilly ever drank that much. But some of her fellow crew members did now and then, and with the bed so close, she never had to help any of them find their way, and that was a very good thing. Partly, she just didn’t like hauling their smelly, lurching bulk around. But when they got like that, they seemed to think of her less as a fellow crew member and more as a molly nearly old enough to toss. Once or twice, one of them had even made a move. But it was always knives out for Jilly, so they learned real quick that she was not for tossing. Even still, she didn’t like cutting on her own crew if she could help it, so she was glad to avoid the whole awkward situation whenever possible.
Now she sat at a table with Slake, a tall thin man who didn’t say much, and Marble Eyes, who talked entirely too much.
Jilly sipped at her ale as she watched Fisty come hurrying down the stairs at the back of the tavern and weave his way through the tables crowded with merchant sailors and pirates alike. Everyone was welcome at the Past Is Forgotten.
“Drain those buckets quick, my wags,” said Fisty as he sat down at their table. “The captain and the Lady will be down in a minute.”
“She coming along on this?” asked Marble Eyes. He got his name on account of his eyes, which always bulged out in a way that made them look a little like glass orbs had been stuck in his head.
“A’course she is,” said Fisty. “The Lady’s pulled your cock out of the fire at least as many times as she has mine. We’d all probably be at the Empty Cliffs or dead if it weren’t for her.”
“I reckon so,” admitted Marble Eyes, then took a long gulp of ale. “Still, it gives me the crawlies to work side by side with a biomancer.”
“Captain said she ain’t a biomancer no more,” said Slake. “Got kicked out.”
“Aye,” said Marble Eyes. “All that says to me is that even regular biomancers are scared of her.”
“Something you’ll be mighty appreciative of if we ever run into a true biomancer,” said Fisty. He glanced at Jilly for a moment, who had been listening to all this in silence, then turned back to Marble Eyes. “Besides, the Lady and Jilly here are a matched set. You wouldn’t want to lose our favorite magic thief, would you?” He ruffled Jilly’s hair playfully.
She batted his hand away. “Ain’t no magic in my thievery,” she told him. “Just skill.”
“You’ve got skill to spare,” said Marble Eyes. “How’s a molly get so lucky? Taught how to steal by Red of Paradise Circle, how to sail by a navy captain, how to magic by a biomancer, and even how to fight by a Vinchen.”
“Not near enough.” The words popped out of her mouth, bitter and hard, before she’d even considered saying them. She had tried to understand why Captain Bane had abandoned her. She really had. But nothing anyone said lessened the sting. Bane had promised to be Jilly’s teacher, but left only a month later. So much for the Vinchen code of honor.
Fisty cleared his throat. “Well, any way you look at it, Jilly here is a great boon to the crew of the Rolling Lightning. Ain’t that right, wags?”
“Aye,” said Marble Eyes.
Slake nodded and raised his tankard.
Jilly could feel herself blushing as she said, “Well, don’t get all poncey on me, my wags. We’ve still got a job to do this night.”
“That we do,” said Fisty. “Now drink.”
They’d finished their tankards by the time Captain Gray and Brigga Lin came down the stairs. Brigga Lin looked as elegant as ever in her white hooded gown with long flowing sleeves. Captain Gray, however, looked a little disheveled, and for some reason, he had no shirt beneath his captain’s coat.
“Well, if it ain’t the biomancer’s own cunt-warmer!”
The man who said that was Clean Kever, so called because he was the most reliable fence on Vance Post. He had a knack for making the taint of suspicion wash away from even the most obviously stolen goods. A short, balding man, and not too impressive, but that worked for him as well. Wouldn’t have done to be a fence who stood out. He was well known and admired by many, and not the sort of person you wanted against you. And, like many, he also had an almost religious hatred of biomancers.
Clean Kever now stood at the bar, the bit of hair he still had neatly combed over the bald part. He’d yelled his greeting across the tavern so that everyone could hear it.
“So tell me, Gray,” he continued. “As a servant to a biomancer, does that mean you and your crew never have to worry about getting taken? Or is that just so long as you can make her come?”
“I told you before, Kever.” Gray’s tone was almost friendly. “The Lady ain’t a biomancer.”
“No?” asked Kever. He gave a skeptical look to the other patrons, most of whom were listening, even if they acted like they weren’t. “Then how come I heard she can make a gun explode with just a twitch of her hand?”
“It takes more than a twitch, I can assure you,” said Brigga Lin, her expression ominous. “Perhaps I should—”
Gavish put his hand on her arm, then turned to smile at Kever. “You got it all wrong, as usual, old pot. Just like that time you tried to sell that crate of pepper as coral spice.”
Kever’s face flushed. “That was you! You set me up!”
“Of course you say that, old pot,” Gavish said lightly. “Of course you do.”
“We’ve had our differences, Gray, but coving up to the biomancers is a new low, even for you. You mark me, this will bring trouble for us all.”
“Whatever you say, Kever,” said Gavish as he nodded to the table where Jilly, Fisty, Marble Eyes, and Slake sat. Then he and Brigga Lin headed for the door.
“That’ll be our cue,” Fisty said quietly, and they stood up and followed him out of the tavern.
They found Gavish and Brigga Lin waiting for them in front of the tavern. Gavish grinned when he saw Jilly. He leaned in close and whispered, “You get that thing I asked for?”
Jilly returned his smile. “I did, Captain.”
“Then hopefully that cock-dribble won’t be a problem for too much longer,” said Gray. Then he turned to Fisty. “Go fetch the rest of the crew and meet us at the pier. We’ve work to do.”
“No pissing way,” said Fisty. “With all due respect, I’ll follow you into death, Captain, and you know that. But I won’t have no part of biomancery.”
That night, Brigga Lin, Gavish Gray, Slake, Fisty, Marble Eyes, Jilly, and the rest of the crew huddled in a dock storage building on the northwest pier. Vance Post was a much smaller island than either Stonepeak or New Laven, but it could accommodate just as many ships because of the massive docking system that surrounded it. The piers radiated out from the island in all directions, zigzagging and branching so that it might have looked like a giant snowflake if seen from above. Some piers reached as far as a quarter mile beyond the shore. No one knew exactly how the massive wooden pylons that kept the docks stable had been driven all the way down to the oc
ean floor. As was often the case, people assumed it was something to do with biomancery and left it at that.
Brigga Lin thought it was interesting that the common people could accept those aspects of biomancery so easily, and yet still revile her. She suspected it had something to do with actually witnessing the biomancery. She couldn’t completely blame them for it. Even she had felt that unease the first time she witnessed her master perform it when she was a child. It had been such a simple thing, too. Just a fish being dehydrated. But there was something about the suddenness of it that had made the hairs on her arms stand up. Of course, such reactions were for children, but the majority of people outside of the palace were so unfamiliar with biomancery that they might as well be children. They certainly acted as unreasonable.
“Come on, my wag,” said Gavish. “You’ve let her work her biomancery on any number of people.”
“Aye, other people. Not me. That’s where I draw the line,” said Fisty. He glanced around at the rest of the crew. “And I know I’m not alone in that.”
Many of the others nodded vehemently. None shook their heads.
Gavish looked pained as he assessed the mood of the crowd. Then he turned back to Fisty. “You trust Jilly, don’t you? She says it’s perfectly safe. She’s even had it done to her once before.”
“I don’t care if my own mother says it’s safe, I’m not letting someone put gills on me,” Fisty said adamantly.
“Our mark is all the way at the end of the pier,” said Gavish. “We can’t just walk the whole crew down there. They’ll set an alarm the moment they see us. So the only way to sneak onto that ship is underwater.”
“Then we’ll do it with tubes and grease, the way we’ve always done it. The proper way to do it.”
“But, Fisty, my wag, don’t you see that this is better? The old way, there’s always a chance of getting spotted.”
“That’s a risk we’re all willing to take, ain’t that right, wags?” Fisty turned to the rest of the crew, and there was more nodding and murmurs of agreement.