The Maiden in the Mirror

by Scott Hamerton

  "Hot poker – That sick bastard – I hope Olbus murders him."

  They both looked angry, worried, and comforted, all at once, and they spoke over each other, damaging the regular fluidity of their speech.

  "What were you – you doing – Minnie – in there?" they pressured, but she couldn't reply. Too much relief had pushed its way into her mind and she found herself laughing and crying at the same time.

  After she caught her breath, and felt ready to speak, she told them how she ended up inside the Needle and Thread. As she was finishing, Olbus emerged from inside the building. He walked over to her, exchanged wordless glances with the two twins, and then patted her on the shoulder in a comforting way. In his hand, he held two weathered sticks and a dagger-sized sword. A look of total relief dominated his expression as he handed the objects to her. Without another word, he left.

  Once Olbus was gone, a strange expression occupied the faces of the twins. "That old git. This is practically his fault. Who demands that someone vouch for a girl? Especially a teenager."

  Minerva eyed the twins suspiciously. Hearing them speak to themselves conveyed a completely different sensation of unnerving.

  "Come along, Minnie. Let's go – talk to Thimbler."

  "Now?" she begged.

  "Yes, now. We'll be – too drunk later."

  It had been a long night, she decided, and she didn't have it in her to keep fighting, so they left for the upper decks together.

  Chapter 34

  Drunken Woes

  Captain Glass' private cabin wasn't excessive or opulent, like the chambers of other captains, but he liked it that way. He kept a modest supply of liquors on hand for entertaining guests, and a few pieces of furniture that caught his eye throughout the years, but that was it.

  Presently, he reclined in comfort in a high-backed leather chair that he enjoyed, and was doing his best to determine how he to pay the carpenters for their work. He counted and recounted the few coins in front of him, interspersing his stacks with swigs of his drink. For the fourth time in a row, he had failed to total a great enough sum. Nothing he owned, even if he sold all of it, covered the costs.

  Glass stumbled out into the hall and unlocked the door on the far side. "Thish ish it, Lint," he slurred, as he flopped down on the bed.

  Lintumen looked up from his book and frowned.

  "There'sh not 'nuff money. We're shunk."

  The few candles in the room flickered and dimmed to a more calming level, without being touched.

  "Oh, I'm sure something will come up to cover it."

  "Nope!" Captain Glass moaned, pushing himself up on one elbow. "Nothing left. Thi'sh 'ol girl is fine'ly fin'shed. She'sh part o 'th port, now."

  Lintumen moved over and sat the captain upright. "You could ask Nezzen. He has enough to cover it, I'm certain."

  "Why should he? That'sh hish money."

  The captain suddenly bent double, as if he was about to vomit, but then relaxed. His neat, well-behaved hair flopped forward around his face, soaked with sweat. "I'm a failure, Lint." The captain's face hung low between his shoulders as he spoke. "Glass, they call me. Glass! Old Glass can't fight. Nope. He'll break." The captain hiccupped loudly and wiped his eyes. "All I wan'd wash a l'il fame. I doomed us'all."

  The steady hand of Lintumen reached forward and pulled the wobbling man back into a sitting position.

  "You're not a failure," Lintumen insisted. "You've made some decisions that you're now regretting. The measure of a man is not the mistakes he makes, but by what he learns from them. You were handed many opportunities to send young Minerva to her death, or worse, but you risked your station as captain to keep her safe. Only a good man would have done that."

  "You think so?"

  "Absolutely. Then there's the matter of Olbus, a man with some of the strictest morals I have ever encountered. He has stood by you when others might not. The stable crew that you've built around you includes some of the strongest and most deserving sailors I've ever known. They trust you, because you're good and honest."

  "Yeah, he ish a good man, that Olbush."

  "Go and rest. You have time to acquire the funds. Order the repairs in the morning."

  "Yeah, that'll do. Thank'sh, Lint, yer a good man, too."

  Lintumen helped the captain to the door, and then bid him goodnight. Inside the hall, Captain Glass made no effort to relock Lintumen's cell. However, the bolts remained fastened and the door sealed. It was as if time had simply forgotten the fact that Captain Glass ever went in to see his navigator. In his drunken stupor, Glass never noticed the discrepancy. Instead, he stumbled his way into his cabin and returned to his finances.

  Chapter 35

  Thimbler's Pocket

  When Luff and Leech stood behind Minerva in Thimbler's tiny shop, swearing by her character and competence, Thimbler accepted her offer to tutor him. Only one detail remained, and Minerva brought it to the attention of the others as they were finalizing a payment schedule.

  "Where will I stay?" she asked.

  Luff and Leech murmured back and forth about various establishments in town where travelers stayed. Each time, though, they decided that such a place was not safe for her to sleep alone.

  "You could stay with me," Thimbler offered. "I'll allow it for free, including meals, if you're willing to help cook and clean. My home isn't big, however, so you will need to share my bunk with me."

  Minerva looked over at Luff and Leech, very wary about the idea of sharing a bed with a grown man.

  "That's good," they said together.

  "Really?" she asked.

  "It's probably the safest bed – in all of Riggersport."

  "Why is that?" she asked, quickly realizing that she was yet again the outsider in a circle of knowledge.

  "Because I don't like girls," Thimbler said, as a matter fact. His reply left her with the impression that it was supposed to calm her, but quite the opposite occurred. She was rather certain that Roker didn't like girls, and that was probably the worst experience of her life.

  "He doesn't like girls – the same way that he likes guys."

  "Oh!" Minerva said with a start, and then blushed horribly, not sure what to say to a man that not only shared her hobbies, but her taste in romantic partners, as well.

  "If such a fact doesn't offend you, the offer stands," Thimbler said.

  Minerva felt good about the arrangement, and agreed. All the men in the room smiled and nodded as Thimbler shook Minerva's hand.

  "I look forward to working with you, Minerva. Let yourself in when you come back and lock the door behind you. I'll wait up for you in back."

  Minerva thanked him heartily, and then dragged the twins out the door by their arms. She wanted to run and skip all the way down to the Skyraker, but her injuries forced her to move slowly.

  On the way, the three of them passed the Needle and Thread. Roker sat outside, surrounded by several girls who coddled him in their arms. At first, Minerva tried to avoid eye contact, but the closer she came the more his appearance stunned her into looking.

  With one arm in a sling, and a crutch under his other, his jacket hung from his shoulders over his shirtless torso. Several long strands of cloth, stained red, wrapped around his ribs. One of his girls held a cold cloth to his eye, clearly doing her best to soothe a massive black eye that mottled even the lower bits of his jaw.

  When Roker spotted the three of them walking by, he sneered wickedly at her, a look that only left pride in her heart. Several of his teeth were missing.

  After retrieving her clothes from the Skyraker, and one final, tiring climb later, Minerva again stood in front of Thimbler's Fine Textiles. The lights were out, but instead of being relieved at arriving, her mood had soured.

  On the way back, she saw Gunner outside the Needle and Thread with a woman on each of his arms. As much as she wanted him to pay attention to her, she avoided any contact, and passed without a word. Prior to that moment, she had elevated him above his associates.
Only now did she realize her mistake. Gunner was, after all, just another sailor.

  Luff and Leech handed Minerva her things when they arrived, letting her know that if she needed them they would be down at The Blow Hole, catching up with the other sailors on the nights festivities. Minerva thanked them both with a hug and wished them goodnight, doing her best to forget about Gunner and focus on where to start with Thimbler.

  Behind the red curtain, she found a cramped, yet tidy, living space. Thimbler sat at a small table, wearing simple linen pants and a shirt. He was slowly counting his daily earnings, taking notes on a piece of paper.

  Thimbler turned and smiled when Minerva cleared her throat politely. "Ah, welcome back. Did you lock the door?"

  Minerva nodded and held out the key.

  "I'm not sure what schedule you prefer, but I normally retire early and wake early. All I expect is that you're functional enough in the morning to perform via our agreement. That said, I overheard you claim that you don't like drinking, so that warning seems unnecessary, unlike those I might normally employ."

  Thimbler then took her things from her, and led her to the bedroom. It wasn't large by any means, but it was certainly sufficient for a single person. A shelf-like extension hung out beyond the end of the bed, probably to accommodate Thimbler's height, which made it well suited to sleep two people who were both quite thin.

  "I've cleared out a space in the wardrobe for you."

  Thimbler began transferring her few belongings into the large cabinet when he stopped suddenly. He turned around with Minerva's orange and black birthday gown in his hands, admiring it lovingly. When he found the damaged seam at the shoulder, he frowned.

  "Did you make this?" he asked.

  Minerva nodded, suppressing her urge to request that he be careful with her only real possession.

  "Young lady, had you shown me this, I would never have questioned your skill. This tear makes me think that quite a story goes with it. I must admit, I was wary before, but now I'm excited to see what you can teach me."

  While he spoke, Thimbler ran his large, lanky hands up and down the dress, smiling and tilting his head back and forth, absorbing all that it had to offer. When he was done, he folded it carefully and gently placed it in her drawer with the rest of her things.

  "Bath is through there, behind the curtain. It's private, but doesn't lock, so if the door is closed you should knock. We haul water from below, so drink sparingly unless you like the legwork. Should I wake you up when I rise?"

  Minerva nodded again.

  "I normally don't rouse in the night, so you can have the outside edge of the bed. There's a spare blanket in here that you can use if you get cold."

  Minerva thanked him once more, and then left for the bath chamber to change. When she returned, Thimbler was already asleep, wedged close against the wall. To her aching body, his bed was soft and even, and a very clean scent suffused the blankets. She wondered for a moment about the material of its stuffing, but lapsed into dreamland before reaching a conclusion.

  Chapter 36

  Minnie the Tutor

  Thimbler gently roused Minerva the next morning. Then she cooked him eggs and toast for breakfast, but found both his pantry and larder sorely lacking. When she asked him about it, he said that he wasn't a very good cook, and was mostly self-taught in that regard as well, so she offered to teach him something new each day for their meals. In exchange, he offered to increase her pay, but she refused.

  After breakfast, Minerva began to instruct Thimbler on what she knew of various stitches. She had never tried to teach someone before, so his progress seemed quite swift. It made her feel self-conscious about how long she had been a rigger, and yet she still couldn't do all the knots or remember the names of all the sails.

  Throughout the day, several customers interrupted the lessons. Usually women that worked for Roker, or sometimes a sailor looking to buy something nice for a love of his. Thimbler handled the final sale with the customers, but insisted that Minerva watch or assist, claiming that learning how to manage a sale was a very important skill.

  That afternoon, a much-disheveled Luff and Leech came by to visit. Their speech broke badly between the two of them, and sometimes they repeated each other, or themselves. They invited her to come by The Blow Hole that night, but she preferred to stay in the safety of Thimbler's tiny sloop. It wasn't until after they left that she realized they were probably still awake from the night before.

  When Thimbler closed for the evening, he took his daily earnings into the back and tallied them carefully. Minerva busied herself by tidying the storefront at the same time, and in doing so, uncovered the source of its dustiness. Not only was the environment bad, but Thimbler worked almost endlessly to keep his shelves stocked and his books in order, which left little time to clean or do much else.

  For supper, she sent him to the butcher to buy whatever meat he thought would taste good, and a few vegetables to go with it. He returned with some chicken and a smattering of carrots and potatoes. She did her best to create a potpie, which he complimented, but she felt was a little dry. Whenever she told him something important about the recipe, Thimbler insisted on writing it down, claiming that he wouldn't remember it otherwise.

  That evening, and over the next few days, she continued to teach him about stitches, textiles, needles, and which types of the three went well together. At the end of each day, Thimbler paid her from the daily earnings, and just after, sent her from the room while he stowed the profits somewhere that she didn't know.

  Unable to contain her curiosity, she asked him what he did with his earnings that he didn't spend. Thimbler said that he saved them, waiting until someone came in with some good plunder for sale, but that was rare. The sailors hocked most of their items to the fences near the docks, long before they made their way up to him. Those that knew about his shop generally preferred to come there, as he offered a better price, but again, that was rare.

  "So, you mostly just save it, then?"

  "Mostly," he replied with a shrug, pulling a few weathered pages from the bottom of a nearby shelf, which he slid over to her. "I do hope that one day someone will plunder a ship with one of these collections on it, and will have the foresight to recognize their worth. I would empty my savings for such a prize."

  "Has anyone ever brought you anything like that?" she asked, looking over the stained images. Even through the grime of age, they depicted elegant and stately attire for any woman of the courts.

  "Once," Thimbler said, and gave her a sly grin. He bit his lip for a moment, and then went to the bedroom, returning with a long blue dress draped across both arms. He held it gingerly and avoided passing too close to any potentially dirty or ragged surfaces. "Feel this," he said, letting it hang from his hands in front of her.

  It was softer than any material known to Minerva, and it shimmered. Even the slightest brush of her fingers left a dazzling display of changing hues across its surface, like staring into the depths of an ocean. It left no doubt that any woman lucky enough to wear it would have been the brightest star of any dinner party.

  "It's beautiful."

  "Isn't it? I've tried to copy it many times, but I've never even come close, and to sell it here would be to condemn it to a quick and ragged demise."

  "Why can't you copy it?"

  "I don't know. It never comes out right, even excluding my poor stitching. See how there are no seams? It's as if someone wove a dress, as a single piece, rather than sewed it together. I have yet to find this same material anywhere, in any color. So, it stays in my wardrobe, waiting for a day that will never come."

  The longing in his expression revealed the truth to Minerva. "The day that you could wear it?" she asked.

  "Perhaps one day," he said, gazing lovingly at his prized possession. "Certainly not here, though," he added with a frown, and then folded the dress over his arm and took it back to its resting place.

  Minerva ran her hands across the images in the ca
talog, as if she could pull the fabric from the paper. "Looking at these reminds me of the store back in my community. The owner always stocked catalogs like these."

  Thimbler smiled and looked over the pages with her. "You haven't told me, where is your home?"

  "Far away." she replied with a frown. "This is my first time away. It's somewhere on the edge of Soraly, in the Linoran Empire, I'm told."

  "Do you have a plan to get back?"

  "I'm hoping to save up enough money that I can charter a captain."

  Thimbler looked concerned. "Few captains will fly to Linora, and fewer crews will fly with a girl on board, unless it's a passenger ship, but those don't come to Riggersport. Do you know anyone that travels frequently? Maybe you could travel with them."

  "My Uncle Caba does."

  "Captain Caba? I don't know that name."

  "I don't think he's a captain. Truthfully, I barely know him. I have only met him two or three times in my entire life, and I don't think my parents like him very much."

  "What does he look like?"

  "Big and strong, with a shaggy beard."

  "That description applies to nearly half the sailors in the sky."

  "I know. I was only nine the last time I met him, so it's hard to remember."

  "What type of person was he?"

  "Loud," Minerva replied with a chuckle. "Very loud."

  Encountering her vagabond uncle by chance was likely never going to happen, and they both knew it.

  "What are you doing here, Minerva?" Thimbler asked with a sigh.

  "What do you mean?" she asked defensively, as if her predicament was somehow her fault.

  "You spend all of your spare time cooped up in a tiny sloop with a man over three times your age. While I like to think that I'm interesting and amazing, I know I'm not. In light of your situation, I suspect that you're feeling very afraid and alone. I also believe that you have friends waiting for you down at the Blow Hole. Around here, I'm an old codger, and in my experience, being with your friends is the best thing for you when you're feeling afraid and alone."