The Sin in the Steel

by Ryan Van Loan

  “I may have misled you there,” Chan Sha said. Her eyes glistened in the sunlight and she came to her feet in one smooth motion, like a cat. “The writ’s legal and authentic to my eyes.” She let the oilskin unfold until it dangled from her fingers. “Just needs a notary stamp and it’ll pass muster. Call it a peace offering. I did take it off you.” She sighed. “Aye, and mistreated you, although you’d have done the same were the situations reversed.”

  I caught myself nodding and stopped. I would have never let us live after I started the torture. No half measures.

  “I am a Sin Eater of the Goddess Ciris and I have powers beyond your ken. I know you’ve no love for mages, but you need one now to have any hope of defeating the Ghost Captain.” She jiggled the writ in the air. “I’m not saying this wipes the slate clean, Buc. But it’s a start.”

  “It is a start,” Eld said. I eyed him across the sand and he shrugged. “Why’d we come out here in the first place? I’m not upset to find we still have a shot at our dream.”

  “We’d never have lost that shot if not for her,” I reminded him. Still, I had to hand it to the bastard; he knew just what to say. Our dream. “But,” I continued, “you’re right.” I held out my hand and Chan Sha’s mouth twitched. “If you’re holding out for a thank-you, you’re going to be waiting a Godsdamned long time.”

  The pirate laughed and placed the writ in my hand. I hefted it, then tossed the oilskin to Eld, who made it disappear inside his shirt. I took a breath and forced myself to go on. “I’ve an idea,” I said. “I might have left a few things out, earlier. About the Archaeologist and Ghost Captain and the artifact.”

  Chan Sha snorted and Eld laughed.

  “I’m … not surprised?” he said.

  “Nor me,” Chan Sha agreed.

  “Fuck the pair of you,” I growled, and when they laughed harder, I felt a smile pull at the corners of my lips. “Arseholes,” I muttered.

  “When I killed the Archaeologist to keep her knowledge from the Ghost Captain?” They nodded. Part of me, a scrap of emotion, turned over at the memory of the sound of the inkwell striking her forehead. I never meant to kill you. But it had turned out to be the next best option besides killing the Ghost Captain himself.

  “I did it knowing the Ghost Captain would turn her into a Shambles. Then he’d have access to her memories and know the island’s location.” I quickly explained what the Archaeologist had told me about Dead Walkers absorbing memories of the dead.

  “So the Ghost Captain knows where the island is now?” Eld asked.

  “Aye. But he thinks me dead.”

  “So he doesn’t know that we know?”

  “Nope,” I told him.

  “Brilliant,” Chan Sha whispered. “We know exactly where to find him now. And he won’t see us coming.”

  “It gets better,” I said, unable to keep my smile from spreading. “I sabotaged his rudder before I escaped, so he’s lying dead in the water as we speak.” If we’ve any manner of luck at all, he’ll stay that way.

  “Gods, so when he finally gets that repaired and sails to the island…” Eld began.

  “We’ll be waiting for him,” I finished. And none of you will see what I’ve got planned coming. Eld would be upset that I hadn’t told him, but I couldn’t risk his streak of politeness showing up. Not now, when the blades are out.

  * * *

  It took us longer than I expected to make ready. I sat in the shade of the canoe; the past two days had finally caught up with me now that I’d stopped to catch my breath. I was bone-tired. The only good thing about this was that my thoughts no longer needed kan to slow them down. It took everything in me to keep my plans from falling apart in my head. Can’t afford that. Not now. We’re so close.

  “You two about done?” I called, forcing an enthusiasm I didn’t feel, that sounded flat even to my ears. “We’re wasting time and I don’t know how long it’s going to take us, rowing.”

  “Aye,” Eld said, straightening with a saber in his fist. He knuckled the small of his back and winced. “We’ve been talking about that, Chan Sha and me.” He nodded to the pirate, who had pulled out a pair of boarding axes and was hefting their weight. “We’re not sure you’re up to it, Buc.”

  “What?”

  “To rowing and then taking on a crew of the undead and the Ghost Captain? It’s a lot, Buc. Not questioning your commitment,” he said quickly, holding up his free hand.

  “Just your physical fitness,” Chan Sha added. She thrust the axes through the sash around her waist and sauntered over to where I sat in the shade. “You’re weak, Buc.”

  “You’re lying,” I growled.

  “You know I’m not. Yours is the hardest core I’ve ever seen and I’ve known some hard motherfuckers in my time,” Chan Sha said. She shook her head. “The mind is always stronger than the body and yours more than most. But it’s not enough.”

  “I’m not staying behind,” I said, reaching for the blade in my dress.

  “We’d never ask you to,” Eld said, stepping up beside Chan Sha.

  “Then what?”

  “She can … heal you,” he said, not quite meeting my eyes.

  “You mean magic?” I laughed mirthlessly. “I hate magic. You despise it, Eld. And now you want me to let her use it on me?”

  “Desperate times and all that,” Chan Sha said lightly. She smirked. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not exactly thrilled about sharing my blood with you.”

  “Your blood?”

  “Only way to heal nonbelievers. Prick your finger and give me your blade.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Just do it.”

  I looked back and forth between the two of them, hating their smarmy, all-knowing faces. Hating them more because they were right. It was all I could do to keep myself upright, even seated. I’d never make it several hours on the open seas, to say nothing of what would come after. But I’d come too far to fail now. She was right. I was desperate. So I ran the tip of my thumb across the edge of the pig-iron blade and hissed when it drew blood. I let it well up, then smeared it along the blade and handed the knife to Chan Sha.

  She took it wordlessly, then licked it clean and grimaced.

  “I’m no Dead Gods’ whore,” she said when she saw my expression. “I’ve little love for this part, but—” She gave a short moan, swayed on her feet, then steadied herself. Just as I’d done, she cut her finger on the blade and smeared its length with her blood. “Here”—she shoved it at me—“lick it clean.” I took it from her, hesitant, and she snorted. “If I wanted you dead, I’d snap your neck, Buc.”

  “This won’t turn me into one of your kind?”

  Eld shifted beside her and Chan Sha shook her braids back and forth. “No, no. It doesn’t work like that. Do it before my blood dries or we’ll have to start again,” she added.

  Still, looking at her blood, dark against the iron blade, I wasn’t sure. I glanced up and saw Eld watching me, a hint of a smile on his face. He’s expecting me to do the impossible. And I can’t. Not like this.

  “Fine,” I said, and ran my tongue along the knife, tasting the metallic tang of her blood. “Tastes sweet,” I lied. “Who would have thought?” I started laughing and then my tongue burned and every drop of Chan Sha’s blood sent fire vibrating through my body and I fell back, gasping. I heard Eld shout from a great distance, but a crackling fire filled my ears.

  Images flashed before me. Telling the Kanados Trading Company woman to go fuck herself. Wheedling the Sea Dragon’s Captain into sacrificing his ship. Gleefully confessing my ultimate plan to Eld. Overriding his protestations.

  Then I was a girl again, in a warehouse. A warehouse I had no business being in. My sister tried to pull me away, but I reached for the door that led deeper in. I’d told her I was going in and I wasn’t going to break now. I didn’t break then. I don’t now. I never do.

  “What is worth breaking for, Buc?” a voice whispered in my mind. “Don’t break and you fa
il, and likely the world with you.”

  “I’ll do what needs doing,” I said, not believing the words even as they left my lips. I never do, I thought.

  “Don’t break and your sister’s death was for nothing. What if you have to break more than once?” the voice whispered sibilantly. “Can you? Can you break twice, three times?” The voice rose. “Or will you tear yourself into a hundred pieces if you try?”

  “I’ll do what needs doing!”

  “How? How, when you’re already broken and won’t admit it?”

  “I’m not broken.”

  “No?” More images danced in the ether: me throwing the cleaver at the Ghost Captain, the blade catching the thin Shambles in the chest; a shroud over my head, the weight of untold numbers sending me to the ground. Pain blossomed in my face and suddenly my mind went blank.

  “You can’t be honest with yourself, Buc. When the time comes, where will the lies get you?” The voice raged through my mind. “Remember, daughter of the flames.”

  The flames were between me and my sister’s broken body as the men ran out the warehouse’s far door. I saw her hand move and I went toward her, but the fire pushed me back. I pressed on, felt my flesh begin to blister.… I couldn’t do it.

  “Remember where the lies led you, Sambuciña! Remember your sister!”

  The voice filled me like the sea fills a glass and I broke and everything in me bled out.

  46

  I woke up with the sun bright in my face. I felt swung around, as if I were lying in the world’s largest hammock. The wind was loud in my ears as I sat up and Eld’s broad back was in front of me as he dipped his oar into the sea. His sea-faded vest lay folded on the seat beside him, and his shirtsleeves clung to him in spots where he’d sweated through. He took a few strokes on the right side—the starboard side—then switched to the port. He glanced back and smiled.

  “You’re awake?”

  “Aye.” I pushed myself up onto the bench and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “How long have I been out?”

  “Few hours,” he said.

  “Gods, then where are we rowing to?” I asked. “I didn’t tell you the coordinates.”

  “But you did, Buc. Don’t you remember?” he asked.

  “She doesn’t and she won’t,” Chan Sha said from behind me. I cricked my neck turning to look at her and she grinned, teeth bright against her tanned skin. “I told you, healing does more than just heal the body. It heals the mind as well. And most wouldn’t want to remember that, even if they could.”

  I arched an eyebrow. Fuck. “So, uh”—I kept my tone neutral, slightly curious—“what did I say? Because all I remember is my life flashing before my eyes as I passed out.” And that voice. I shivered, and not from the wind.

  “Gave us the navigation to the island,” Eld said from one side.

  “And the compass,” Chan Sha added, hefting it in one hand. She tossed something at me with her other hand and I caught it without thinking. It was a curved, slightly squishy yellow fruit. “It’s called a banana. Peel the skin off first. It’s good. Eat that—and as much food as you can pack in. My magic healed you, but some of its power came from you, and if you don’t eat, you’ll feel as weak as a day-old kitten come tonight.”

  I nodded as I peeled the banana. My vision was clear, my eye no longer ached, and all the bruises and bone-deep soreness I’d felt before were gone. I felt like a new band on my slingshot, one that hadn’t been stretched or tested yet. But I could sense a gnawing hunger lurking within, so I wolfed the banana down in three bites and reached for another.

  “Where are we?” I asked around a mouthful of fruit.

  Eld laughed and leaned to the side, pointing forward. “Look and see.”

  Over his shoulder I saw a lump of land in the not too far distance. A wave carried us until we were level with the island for a moment, then swooped us back down before leveling out. The canoe wobbled a bit but kept upright. Apparently the thing was seaworthy, if small. The Archaeologist had said it would take a few hours to reach the island, but that was using sail. Behind the oar of a canoe, it looked more like the better part of a day. Then Chan Sha started rowing again and I realized we’d be there in an hour or less. Her supernatural speed sent us flying across the waves. Eld helped with a dip or two of his paddle when he could.

  I offered to help, but the pair of them insisted I keep eating so I’d be ready when we reached the shore. Truth be told, once I started eating, I didn’t want to stop. I had a moment of worry about the motion of the waves and my stomach, but whether Chan Sha’s magic was still in my veins or I was just too hungry to care, I didn’t get sick.

  An hour later we put in on a rough gravel beach on the south side of a wide bay that was divided by a rocky outcropping. The outcropping rose to a pinnacle in the center, blocking our view of the rest of the island. Chan Sha and Eld had both wanted to circle the island in search of safer portage, but now that we were here, I felt time racing against us. Who knew how long we’d have to prepare before the Ghost Captain arrived?

  As we drew closer, I saw reefs all around that would tear a hole in the bottom of the canoe long before we neared land. Even the bay we opted for was dangerous; the dugout canoe left bits and pieces of itself in the flotsam washing against the rocks before we landed. When we were close, Chan Sha thrust her axes into her belt and jumped out, ignoring Eld’s protestations. The sea molded the dark leather of her pants around her legs so her muscles stood out. She pulled us up onto land with one mighty heave.

  Eld followed and he and Chan Sha scouted up and down the beach while I sorted out my knife and slingshot and the small pouch of stones Bar’ren had given me, keeping my eyes on Chan Sha as much as possible. I’d seen her in action before, but back then I’d thought her human. Incredibly skilled, but human. I could defeat human; I’d done it before and I’d do it again. Flesh is a known quantity to me.

  But this? This was something more, something unknown. As the Ghost Captain was an unknown. They were warriors, combatants in a war that had gone on since before their Gods fell from the stars and took up the fight again, turning our world into their battleground. She’d fought a horde of Shambles singlehandedly, rowed herself ashore, fought a second battle, healed me, rowed all of us across leagues of open sea—and at the end, still had the strength to pull a fully loaded canoe out of the water as if it were nothing.

  Unknown didn’t begin to describe mages and their magic. But we needed an edge, Eld and I. Otherwise we would be little better than mosquitoes caught between the servants of rival Gods. Sometimes mosquitoes are ignored … but sometimes they are slapped flat without a second thought. And I couldn’t take that chance. Ruthless. For once my mind was blessedly clear, even without the kan. Because of her healing? It didn’t matter; I knew what had to be done.

  “C’mon, Buc,” Chan Sha said, dark calves flashing in the sun as she trotted back to the canoe. “Time we were gone, yea?”

  Ruthless.

  “Aye,” I said. I’d been rolling one of the round stones between my fingers; now I slipped it into the pouch of my slingshot, pulled in a lungful of air, and steeled myself for what came next. I leveled my weapon, pulling it back, well past my ear, until the wooden frame cried out. Chan Sha echoed the frame a moment later, collapsing to the sand. She made to rise and screamed again.

  “What’d you do?” Eld rushed up beside her.

  “I didn’t break parley,” I said, gasping.

  “You killed her, damn it!”

  “No. Kneecapped her.” I jumped out of the canoe and strode across the sand. Chan Sha glared up at me through the pain writ large over her face. “We’re going to need her for the Ghost Captain.”

  * * *

  “You can’t do this.”

  “You keep saying that,” I said. “But look.” I pointed through the jungle toward the cliff’s edge, just visible through the canopy ahead. “We’ve almost reached the top.” Chan Sha limped along, leaning heavily on an oar that Eld had con
verted into a crutch. She’d spent the first hour cursing me roundly, but I’d found a loaded slingshot aimed at her face did wonders for her cooperation. Even weakened, her God-given supernatural strength let her keep pace with us and I was sure she was healing even as we walked. “So, given the facts, I think we can do this. Right, Eld?”

  “Aye.” He wasn’t smiling, but his neutral expression was better than the frowns and accusations he’d hurled at me when we’d left the shore for the jungle, his sense of honor having been trampled all over by my actions. Since then, I’d had time enough to explain why I’d done what I had. I’d kept to the parley, too, damn it. Maybe not the spirit, but the word. Eld was like most men—he’d rear his head and bridle when faced with something he didn’t like, but give him some time to work the bit in his mouth and he’d come around. Eventually. When the seas froze over. Men. I sniffed, and turned back to Chan Sha.

  “You’re both a pretty pair of fools,” she spat.

  “Call us what you will, so long as you keep pace,” I said.

  “This is larger than you realize,” she said, digging her crutch into the dirt. “You think I operated out here for so long without the Kanados Trading Company’s knowledge?”

  “What are you saying?” Eld asked from behind her.

  “I’m saying that no pirate captain worth their salt survives a year on the seas if they take as many prizes as I have, let alone three. I took more ships than any two captains combined, yet I never had to flee Company ships. Or the Empire’s, for that matter.”

  “And you hid all of this from your crew?” I asked.

  “Both of you shooting questions at me is making my head spin.”

  “Sorry,” I lied. But then, I was pretty sure she was lying too. A pretty pair we made.

  “Uh-huh. Aye, they never knew,” she said. She grunted when her bad leg came down on a tree root. “None needed to know, and so long as I took prizes from the Free Cities or Normain, the Empire turned a blind eye.”