Solatium (Emanations, an urban fantasy series Book 2)

by Becca Mills

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t need a tracker?”

  “You think I’m stupid enough to run?”

  The look he shot me was answer enough.

  “Whatever. Let Ida go, then.”

  “No.”

  “There are plenty of healers around.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Well, Mizzy at least. With all the power she’s putting into that youth-working, she’s practically useless.”

  “She stays.”

  “Why?”

  He ignored me.

  “Callie’s vision must’ve been about getting rid of the algae, so why not cut Mizzy loose?”

  “Shut the fuck up and let me do my job.”

  I stopped. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

  He turned on me. “Stop acting like a child. Put away the sentiment and grow up.”

  For several long seconds, I just stared at him, pretty much struck dumb.

  Then I found my words.

  “Yeah, well, maybe I am a child. Six months ago, I was in Wisconsin. Being a receptionist. Now I’m here, being … this.” I waved my hands in front of myself, momentarily at a loss. “I don’t know anything. I have no idea what’s going to happen. I’m doing the best I can.”

  He opened his mouth, but I wasn’t done.

  “And you have a piss-poor idea of what adulthood means. It’s sure as hell not about becoming some heartless robot.”

  He stared down at me with contempt.

  “What?” I said. “What do you think I’m doing so wrong?”

  “Not accepting reality. Trying to stay who you were.” He took a step closer. “Trying to get rid of Powell so you can make a break for it? Stupid, but at least purposeful. But that’s not what you’re up to. Not really.”

  He looked me up and down scornfully and spat out the word “soft.”

  I took it in silently.

  Oddly, my anger faded. I guess what he was saying was so alien that it didn’t really feel like criticism. Of course I was trying to hang onto the person I’d been. As much as I could, anyway. I didn’t see that as a failing. I saw it as the only possible not-failing. And if he saw caring about others as a weakness … well, he operated in another world from me.

  “I’m not soft,” I said. “I just have different rules.”

  He shook his head and turned away.

  Chapter 13

  I leaned on the ship’s broad rail, watching the trees go by. The scenery along the river was monotonous: a solid wall of dark green trees, with an occasional glimpse of red-mud river bank to spice things up. Sometimes I saw small aquatic reptiles, but they seemed to be quite shy, diving quickly as the ship approached. A few times I’d seen dinos on shore, and of course there was the ever-present bird life. But mostly, I saw trees.

  Apparently the river had once been more interesting. Kekataugh had straightened and deepened it to allow massive ships like Rykthas’s to come farther inland. Now, it was basically a huge canal — boring.

  Boring had been okay, at first. After all, Ancient Inland had been way too exciting. But we’d been on the river three days, and it was starting to wear on me.

  I heard a shout from above and looked up. Terry was in the rigging with one of the sailors, pointing at something on shore. Whatever it was, I couldn’t see it.

  I sighed and stretched, enjoying the breeze the ship’s motion generated.

  That motion hadn’t been so kind to everyone. When I’d seen Kevin earlier, he’d looked as sick and ashen as he had our first day on the water.

  I heard someone coming up behind me.

  “Good day, Miss Hera.”

  I nodded politely. “Hello, Mr. Kurulurmak-Sakaklur.”

  “I preferred being called ‘Mr. Serhan,’” the young man said. “The vowels in my surname give you trouble.”

  Imagine my surprise when I discovered the trading party we’d met on the jungle road was also traveling on Rykthas’s ship.

  Serhan smiled broadly and joined me by the rail, getting just a bit too close.

  I’d been very sorry to hear that the trader the dinos killed was Serhan’s cousin. But my sympathy was quickly departing. The young man seemed to be dealing with the loss by unleashing his inner horndog. He hung around me constantly and flirted in an off-putting sort of way. I was doing my best to set some boundaries, but he didn’t seem to be catching on.

  “Well,” I said, “I must do my best. I know it is not appropriate to use your given name.”

  Hint, hint — stop using mine. Or what he thought mine was, anyway.

  “Where are the other members of your party? Are they all on board?”

  I looked around.

  Shoot.

  Ida had been on deck just a minute ago.

  “Yes, they are here somewhere.”

  “Why are you all traveling together?” Serhan winked. “Are they escorting you to your wedding?”

  “No. Just business.”

  “Are you in trade?”

  I shrugged. “We do this and that.”

  “Where are you traveling to?”

  “Demesnes.”

  “That is our destination as well. I hope you plan to stay in that stratum. I would enjoy visiting you.”

  “We will probably be moving on.”

  He laughed. “Surely you must know where you are going.”

  I shrugged again.

  What’s wrong with this guy? Couldn’t he pick up how uncomfortable I was?

  I looked around, hoping that some of his elders in the trading party might intervene, but those up on deck were looking on with interest. One of them leered at me.

  Oh brother.

  “So, what sort of things do you trade?” I said, attempting to change the subject.

  “Jewels. Gold. Other precious metals. There is little else to be had in this blighted place. But ah, Demesnes … now that is a stratum fit for people.”

  “How so?” I said, sensing a topic that might keep him occupied for some time.

  Serhan launched into a long description of Demesnes that made it sound like The Shire made a baby with Camelot — a southern island of lush green hills dotted with farms; quaint villages full of strapping swains and pretty lasses who were free with their favors; tranquil woodlands; and lords and ladies in beautiful castles overseeing it all. And in the north, a second island of dark, wild forests and volcanic mountains, rich with game.

  “There are no dinosaurs there?”

  “No, no. That stratum was created by humans for humans. There have never been any monsters there. It is a civilized place.”

  “Ah,” I said, suppressing a comment about how uncivilized humans could be.

  “So,” Serhan said, inching closer, “where exactly will you be staying in Demesnes?”

  “Miss Hanson,” Williams said.

  I spun around, startled. The big man did not look happy.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Kurulurmak-Sakaklur.”

  “Miss Hera, when will I —”

  But I was already hurrying away. Williams waited until I reached him, then turned wordlessly and marched to the other end of the ship. When we got there, he stopped and twitched his fingers — barrier time.

  “You would not be so foolish —”

  “No, of course not,” I said, annoyed. “He’s just not getting the message.”

  “Then be direct.”

  “I’d rather not make an enemy. He’s going to be on this ship with us for the next two months.”

  “Not if he lays a hand on you, he won’t.”

  “Don’t you dare,” I hissed. “He’s just a kid.”

  Williams looked back down the ship, catching Serhan in the act of staring angrily at us. The young man paled and turned away.

  “He’s no child,” Williams said. “Stay away from him.”

  My annoyance got the better of me. “Jealous much?”

  His horrified expression would’ve been insulting if it weren’t so comical.
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  Williams swore at me under his breath — something on the order of “not a fucking game” — and stalked off across the deck.

  I turned to the rail and watched the ship’s wake foaming out in a wide, white V behind us.

  My heart was pounding. Needling him even a little had felt dangerous.

  It had also felt pretty darn satisfying.

  Everyone came on deck when we reached the river’s mouth. The brownish water spilled out into the olive-green sea, and the spray coming up off the bow turned salty.

  It was late afternoon. The sun behind us swamped everything in golden light.

  I watched as Rykthas teamed up with another water-worker to keep the ship centered in a deep channel that ran through a clutch of islands and out into the open sea.

  We sailed west for about an hour, the coast receding to a dark green line behind us.

  “When will we reach the ligature?” I asked Mizzy, who was standing near me.

  She glanced up, looking like she wished she’d stood somewhere else.

  Things had been strained between us since Ancient Inland. I wasn’t sure whether she felt guilty about trying to draw on me or angry that she hadn’t been able to carry through. Or maybe she was pissed that I hadn’t stood up to Williams on the healing issue. Or maybe she was scared I was going to get her killed.

  Truth be told, I missed her. Days on the ship were long, and I couldn’t really interact with the mariners or the other passengers without getting asked questions I didn’t want to answer. Terry had hit it off with a group of sailors and tended to hang out with them. Ida had bonded with the ship’s head cook and was often down in the galley. Kevin was still sick, and he wasn’t friendly with me, anyway.

  Long days of boredom were already starting to eat away at me. I would’ve loved to have someone to talk to.

  “It should be soon now,” Mizzy said.

  After a few more minutes, a shout went up from the rigging, and Mizzy stood on her tip-toes, straining to see. Then she pointed, and I saw it: a huge semicircle of blue sky punched out of the humid gray, and a patch of cobalt sea beyond the green.

  The sight of blue sky reminded me of Ancient Inland.

  “Mizzy, I wanted to tell you —”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, backing up. “I need to go talk to someone. About something. I’ll see you later.”

  She beat a hasty retreat.

  I sighed and turned back to watch our passage through the ligature. I didn’t know how to deal with Mizzy. I wanted to tell her I didn’t blame her for trying to stave off death, but I hadn’t managed to get the words out.

  “Miss Hera! Are you looking forward to seeing Blue Seas?”

  I turned to look over my right shoulder just as Serhan scooted behind me and cozied up on my left. Before I could step back, he laid his hand firmly in the small of my back. I shied away from his touch, and quickly looked around for Williams.

  And of course, there he was, watching like a hawk.

  I turned back to Serhan. “Mr. Kurulurmak-Sakaklur. Please do not touch me. It is not appropriate.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you married?”

  “No, but —”

  “Then there is no harm in it,” he said, speaking over me. “I am not trespassing on another man.”

  “You’re trespassing on me,” I said, getting ticked off.

  He looked confused, and I realized I’d spoken in English.

  “I am not interested in you in that way,” I said in Baasha.

  He still looked lost. Maybe “in that way” didn’t translate. I tried again. “I am not interested in you romantically. Do not touch me again.”

  That he got. His expression darkened. He glanced quickly around at the people on deck, then walked away.

  I felt like a heel, but in this case, Williams was right — it was better to be clear. Serhan needed to direct his attentions at someone else. Ideally, someone closer to his own age.

  I turned back to the rail and tried to put the encounter out of my mind by focusing on my surroundings.

  Here too the sun was setting. All around us, the water was a deep blue. The sea was calm. Everything was surprisingly quiet — no birds, very little wind. It was hot, but not as humid as it had been in Gold Rush. The ship seemed to be moving quite slowly.

  Rykthas and the other water-worker were leaning over the ship’s prow, watching the sea’s surface.

  After about ten minutes, a man in the rigging called out. He was pointing off to the left. The ship shuddered and began turning in that direction. The sea churned against the starboard hull — probably a water-working, pushing the ship in the desired direction. Slowly, we swung around almost completely. The working diminished until it was just nudging us sideways. The stillness of anticipation settled over everyone for a few moments. Then the ship lurched forward, and we all staggered. A cheer went up from the crew.

  “We’ve entered a current,” Kevin said from behind me. “It should get smoother, now.”

  “Really? What current?”

  He opened his mouth, and an alarmingly juicy burp came out.

  I took an involuntary step back.

  Looking mortified, he turned and hurried toward the stern.

  Poor Kevin. The suave heart-throb I’d met in Free was a shadow of his former self.

  I looked over the side. We barely seemed to be moving, but I guess that’s what it looks like if all the water around you is moving too.

  After a few minutes, Ida came and leaned against the rail next to me.

  I looked down at the older woman’s hands as they gripped the broad wooden rail. Her skin was a little dry from all the cooking and washing up she’d been doing, but all in all, they were nice hands — strong, with long fingers and short, clean nails. They looked like the hands of someone who knew how to do things and didn’t tolerate being messed with.

  She took a deep breath of the fresh air and smiled. “How you doing, hon?”

  “I’m okay.”

  She hiked up her eyebrows.

  I shrugged. “I’m under the thumb of a man I can’t stand, traveling to the land of fanged, horned walking carpets, where I’ll spend the rest of my youth. I’m peachy.”

  She chuckled.

  “Do you have any advice for me?”

  “What, I’m a middle-aged black woman, so I have wisdom to impart?”

  She took the sting out of her words with a smile.

  I looked down at my own hands, embarrassed. “You’re a mom. Moms know stuff. Mine always did.”

  I saw my use of the past tense wasn’t lost on Ida. She studied my face, then looked down at her hands silently for a long while. She actually looked like she was tearing up a little.

  Finally, she sighed and shook her head. “You should find the people you can count on, but be really sure of them first.”

  I held it together for a few seconds, then started laughing. It was hard to stop.

  Ida waited, poised between humor and offense.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, wiping my eyes. “It’s just that your advice is the absolute opposite of what Williams told me to do a few days ago.”

  The older woman frowned. “What did he say?”

  “That I was a fool for trying to hang on to who I was before. That I wasn’t facing up to reality. That I was sentimental and soft for, you know — being people-oriented.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t listen to him. I’m not saying you should throw your trust at every Tom, Dick, and Harry, but don’t try to go it alone. Look for those few people, the ones you can count on.”

  “What about Mizzy? Is she one of those people?”

  Again, Ida waited a long moment before answering. “I’ve known Mizzy all my life. She helped raise me after my mother passed.”

  “And?”

  “She’s never let me down.”

  “That doesn’t exactly answer my question.”

  Ida didn’t argue. She looked a bit sad.

  I groped around for a chang
e of topic. “This current — is it going to take us where we need to go?”

  “Sure will,” Terry said from behind us.

  Ida and I both started, and he grinned. “Crew says we’re going to ride a whole series of currents west and then north. The ligature to Demesnes is off the west coast of the northern continent, about a hundred miles off shore.”

  I nodded, wishing I could hang out with the sailors like Terry did. It filled his time, and he was probably finding out all kinds of cool stuff. But I knew Williams wouldn’t tolerate it. They were too informal and familiar with one another. Touching was too much of a possibility.

  Something shrieked like a rusty hinge. I turned and saw a pterosaur sweeping low over the water, quite close to the ship. It wasn’t a terribly big one — wing span of three or four feet, maybe — but it was fearsome looking. Its head was disproportionately large, with long, up-curved jaws full of forward-slanting teeth. It had a long tail with a triangular tag on the end. Its body and neck were covered in pale fur. As we watched, it dipped its head into a wave and jerked up a fish.

  “Wow,” I said.

  Terry shrugged. “We have them in Gold Rush too, but only the really big ones. Hey, gotta go — I’m going to spar with one of the crewmen on the poop. He knows Kalaripayattu.”

  He headed aft.

  I looked at Ida. “What’s Kalaripayattu? And where’s the poop?”

  “I have no idea.” She straightened and turned away from the water. “I should head down to the galley. Ellen could probably use some help with dinner.”

  I stayed on deck for a bit longer, watching the sea. But pretty soon, most of the light had faded from the sky.

  I headed down to my room to get ready for dinner. Passengers ate in the captain’s stateroom, so it was a somewhat formal affair. If I got ready slowly — really slowly — it’d fill the time.

  I stirred some sugar into my coffee and set down my spoon. Dinner had been okay. There’s only so much you can do with dried foods. The cooks did a pretty good job, considering.

  “I am certainly looking forward to some fresh meat,” said a florid gentleman to my right.

  “We should be able to hunt in the morning,” Rykthas said.