“Well, Anjoya was a very…” Geret shot an embarrassed look at Kemsil, “…engaging teacher.”
Kemsil merely smiled. “Yes, she is that. But you had no trouble picking up insults and curses in—how many languages can you curse in, anyway?”
Geret laughed. “Seven. The Kauna’kana insults for being slow were particularly useful during the harbor rebuilding. And I know four ways to insult someone’s mother in Jualan alone, and five—no, six—ways to call someone a—”
“Geret.” Salvor raised an eyebrow at him.
“Fat sloven,” Geret finished. In response to Salvor’s continued glare, he raised his eyebrows innocently. “What?” He turned to Sanych and grinned. “It’s really a horrible insult to the Jualans. I like dhun jai best. Means ‘sea cow’.” He made a watery moo.
Kemsil winced in exaggerated fashion.
Sanych raised an eyebrow at her prince. “You know the sea cow is no bovine relation at all, but more closely associated with dolphins, right?”
“Stop ruining the joke, Sanych,” Meena said with a grin. “Now then, today I want to start teaching you Shanallese. Then you and I can focus on teaching the others who’ll be accompanying us ashore into Cish.”
“Does this mean you’re ready to share the rest of the plan details with us?” Geret asked, a hint of impatience in his voice.
Meena smiled at him. “I’ll be happy to share every little detail of my plan with you.”
“Superb.” Geret rubbed his hands in anticipation.
“In Shanallese.”
“You’re a wicked heroine, you know that?” he said, glaring in mock anger.
“I’m aware,” she said, a sly smile on her lips.
“I’m not comfortable with you as bait for anything, Geret,” Salvor said.
“You forget yourself, my lord Thelios,” Geret said, his voice cool. “You’re walking proof of her extraordinary abilities. I’ll gladly put my life in Meena’s hands.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what makes you think Geret’s the bait, Salvor,” Meena said, meeting his hazel eyes. He glanced at Sanych and opened his mouth to reply.
“Maybe you could discuss this outside,” the Archivist interrupted, drumming her nails on the table. “I have a Shanallese lesson now.”
Salvor gave Meena a sharp look. “My apologies,” he said to Sanych. He rose and left the cabin.
“Sorry, Sanych,” Geret added. To Meena, he said, “I’m still going to trust you.”
She searched his face for several moments, then nodded. Geret took his leave then, followed by Kemsil.
Meena’s voice carried down the corridor as Kemsil began to close the cabin door. “Lesson one: the five words never to say to a Shanallese woman. Cainar means ‘helpful’. Don’t confuse it with cainor: ‘slutty’…”
~~~
“I’m going with you, Geret,” Salvor said, the moment they reached the top deck. Kemsil excused himself to stand by the rail, adjusting the settings on the Circuit.
“I believe that’s a given at this point,” Geret said dryly. “I’d wager Meena’s probably counting on it for some facet of her plan to succeed.”
“Geret, a word?” Rhona asked, standing at the top of the aft castle’s stairs. Behind her, Ruel steered the ship’s wheel.
“Sure,” he replied. Salvor gave him a warning glance, and Geret frowned back at him.
She took his hand and led him below deck. When he saw she was heading for her cabin, he tugged on her hand.
“Shanallese lessons,” he said. “Can we use my cabin?”
She giggled and stepped over to open the smaller cabin door. Once they were inside, she shut it again and pressed him against it with her hand, standing close.
“You’ve made me very happy by accepting my claim,” she murmured, letting her lips brush his cheek near his ear.
He exhaled slowly, bringing Salvor’s words to mind. “You mean the kiss on deck last night?”
“Aye, although that’s just the start of the festivities.”
“I didn’t realize I was signing up for a whole party. What all can I expect? Do you have those little poppers that go bang when you toss them?”
Rhona giggled. “No, but they sound fun. We’ll have to steal some sometime. For now, I’ve claimed you as my mate.”
“Mate? Like Ruel and Siela?”
“No, the pleasurable sort of mate, Geret.” She nuzzled his neck.
Salvor had been right. Geret’s eyes widened and his heart sank, though other parts of him had other ideas. “You might have mentioned that up front. I thought I was just caught up in a game of whisper-in-my-mouth.”
Rhona laughed. “You’ll have to teach me that one.”
He moved her back a pace and looked at her with a serious expression. “Rhona, I mean it. You can’t spring a surprise engagement on a prince like that. There will be consequences, no matter how attractive you are.”
“Funny,” she replied with a grin, “I haven’t noticed any drawbacks so far.”
He had to smile at her attitude. “I meant for me. When I return home, there will be a lot of explaining to do.”
She stepped close again, sliding her hands along his collar. “You don’t have to return home. At least not any time soon. My mother leads Clan Agonbloom; that makes me equivalent to one of your princesses. Why couldn’t we have a pairing of equals? Can you imagine the power we could wield, with my prowess at sea and your experience on land?”
“Rhona, I can’t get distracted right now. I’m on this little quest, you see, to rescue my cousin from an evil spell and save the world from the Cult of Dzur i’Oth. It’s kind of important.”
“Did you forget that the only reason I’m here is because of you? Your quest is my quest. There’s no distraction here.” She kissed him gently. “Well, maybe just a little.”
Salvor’s words came to Geret’s mind again. “If it helps, just pretend you’re me.” He knew how hurt Sanych had been by Salvor’s lies and betrayal, and Geret had no desire to wound Rhona in a similar fashion. Not least because she was quick of temper and handy with a sword. Yet he’d seen that same temper directed at Sanych already, and didn’t want to see that again either.
“Listen, Rhona, I like you. I really do. You’re superb. I…I’m just—”
“Geret.” Her tone dropped into caution. “Please don’t walk away from this. I’ve claimed you in front of my whole crew. They expect you to say aye. We all do it; it’s part of who we are. It’s not a permanent arrangement, if that’s what you’re afraid of. You could leave my ship at the next Spring Trading and go anywhere you liked, even back to Vint. But please, stay. At the very least, stay with me until we get to Shanal. If you break it off before then, my crew will see me as a poor leader. They’ll think I can’t keep you in line, and they might start a mutiny. I’m already having trouble with two of my captains who dislike being this far from home waters. You don’t want to be forced to turn around by mutineers any more than I do.”
Not reach Shanal, after all this effort? Geret’s mind whirled with the new threat. I’ve already given up far too many lives to get this close. I can’t risk failure again. I just can’t! “I didn’t realize so much was at stake,” he said slowly, feeling his words apply to the both of them. “You know how important reaching Shanal is to me. And I know how important your fleet is to you.”
She nodded, waiting.
Folly take my head, and make it a clean cut. I have no choice. No choice. He licked his lips and said, “I think we can reach an accord.”
Rhona exhaled in relief and squeezed his hands with hers. “Trust me, Geret, you’ll be far from disappointed. Clan life is never dull.”
“Well, shiny,” he said, using the Clan term of approval. His heart pounded inside his chest. It’s just pretending, and she’s a fine looking girl…a harmless bit of deception. Harmless.
Rhona laughed. “I know you’re not used to Clan ways, so I’ll try not to overwhelm you with our glorious traditions all at once.
”
Geret met her eyes and read her eager expression. Such a dangerous woman focusing all her attention on me. I’d better not muff this up. He swallowed. “What’s our first lesson, then?”
She nibbled on her lip, holding his gaze. “Let’s start with a personal one: honesty.”
“Honesty?”
“Show me you’re being honest. Do you really accept my claim? Prove to me that you do and I’ll reward you.” The teasing smile on her lips left little doubt as to what she meant.
Geret’s eyes trailed over her, taking in her low-cut, lacy blouse and her form-fitting trousers. If I can ignore Sanych for her own safety, surely I can pay attention to Rhona for the good of the quest. If we don’t make it to Shanal, all my duty comes to naught.
Compromise all around, and Folly slay me for a heartless fool.
“Are you sure you can handle the ardor of a Vinten prince?” he asked. He stepped close enough to feel her body heat through his shirt and ran a knuckle along her cheek. “I’ve been known to make women swoon at a mere look.”
Pupils wide, she murmured, “I’m no mere dirtwalker.”
“No,” he breathed, lifting her chin, “but you’ll swoon anyway.”
He felt a wave of desperation wash through him as he lifted her chin, and he lost himself in it as his lips closed over hers.
Chapter Ten
“…And so Curzon the Crooked was sentenced to death for his crimes,” Sanych told Ruel as she braided a damaged rope, “even though burning down half his town with the Eye of Woe was an accident.”
Ruel shook his head, sitting beside her on an upturned bucket. “I can’t believe he survived having his back broken.”
Sanych nodded. “The king of Gothrún wanted him dead for killing his most powerful wizard, Garrolf the Gilded, but Curzon wasn’t interested in waiting for the noose. He escaped into the night, crooked back and all, right through the wards the other royal wizards had put around him. No one knew where he had gone or what he might do; the island nation lived in fear of him for two years, because they didn’t realize Curzon was a coward at heart.”
“What happened two years later?” Ruel asked, his fingers working his own line repairs.
“Meena showed up.”
Ruel’s head twitched toward her. “This really happened,” the pirate said, leaning forward.
Sanych smiled. “She had come to Gothrún to meet with Garrolf. She hadn’t heard that he was dead. When the king told her that Curzon the Crooked had killed him and was terrorizing the countryside, she decided to track him down.” Sanych paused abruptly, and her eyes flicked back and forth.
“Sanych? What happened next?”
“I’m sorry. I just realized something. Gothrún is ‘an island of fire and ice’, which means it must have volcanic activity, and thus earth magic, which gave both Curzon and Garrolf their gifts. Meena must’ve wanted to talk to Garrolf about magic, or something relating to it. It’s odd that she didn’t mention that when she told me this story. I think it’s an important fact, don’t you?”
Ruel grinned into a gust of wind. “Archivist, you think every fact is important.”
“Well, they are!”
“Will you please finish the story? It’s not polite among the Clans to keep a listener waiting.”
Sanych sighed, setting aside her realization and picking up the story. “It wasn’t difficult for Meena to find Curzon. Food, boots and heavy clothing went missing among several closely-placed villages just as the autumn weather worsened. One moonless night, she tracked him through the snow to his wretched little cave, a tiny maw of black in the gloom.
“She pounced on him as he struggled to clamber over a lip of stone, his arms full of stolen foodstuffs. Though she was prepared for a long and painful battle against various magics, Curzon curled into a ball of misery and begged her to kill him quickly. But she had questions instead.
“When he realized she wasn’t going to kill him, he told her the tale of how he’d accidentally awakened the Eye of Woe when all he really wanted was to steal it, how his back had broken and healed at an angle, and how he’d escaped from prison. Now, he was too afraid to end his own life, though he was cold, hungry, and crippled.”
Ruel’s fingers had paused. Nearby sailors listened in as well.
“Meena was stunned. The whole situation was based on a series of misunderstandings, and everyone was too afraid to find the truth. She said, ‘I know how you may be restored to full health, Curzon, but in exchange, I will have your most solemn word to do exactly as I ask, when I ask it.’
“Well, naturally Curzon protested. ‘I am a coward, lady,’ he said, ‘incapable of bravery in the smallest measure.’“
Ruel snorted. “He wouldn’t last long aboard a Clan ship, then.” Several sailors laughed.
Sanych grinned and continued, “Meena told the thief that she would not put a sword in his hand, nor force him to fight anyone with his magic. ‘In fact,’ she told him, ‘I can provide you safety and solitude far from Gothrún’s shores for the rest of your days, provided you agree to my terms.’ So Curzon agreed.
“Without a word, Meena bent his body backward over the lip of stone until his spine broke at the spot of the old injury. Even as he shrieked in agony, she healed him, and in moments, his cries of pain had turned to hysterical, terrified laughter. You see, he hadn’t believed Meena when she promised him healing, and now he found himself faced with a terrible choice: renege on his agreement with a determined magic-wielder, or give up his horrible yet familiar existence and leave his homeland forever.”
Sanych paused. Everyone else paused too. “Well?” Ruel prompted. “Which did he choose?”
The girl shook her head and sighed. “Meena never told me.”
“Ah!” Ruel exclaimed, thumping a palm to his head. “The Seamother is as cruel as the deeps!”
Dissatisfied with the lack of an end to the story, the sailors around them grumbled and went back to work. Ruel’s hands worked steadily for a while, then they stilled.
“It’s not right, what she’s doing,” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
Sanych paused in her rope repair, and squinted into the sun at him. “You mean with Curzon, or her plans for the Dire Tome?” she asked.
“Neither. My cousin, with your prince. I only heard what she’d done when I got back from the Lenila. I think it’s a big mistake.” He slipped from his upturned bucket and squatted beside her.
“What are you talking about?”
“Gods above and below,” the pirate muttered. “No one’s told you.”
Sanych looked at the other sailors out of the corner of her eye. “Told me what?”
“Rhona has laid a claim on Geret.” At Sanych’s blank stare, he clarified: “She wants him to be her ally and bed-mate.”
Her stomach flipped, then clenched. Her fingers stilled on the rope in her lap. No one had told her. Not even Meena. How was she supposed to advise Geret when she didn’t have accurate information? And…bed-mate? Geret was as Vinten as she was…wasn’t he? “That’s ridiculous. He’d never agree to such a—”
“He hasn’t objected so far.” Ruel’s blue eyes flashed.
“This can’t be right. I’ll go ask him—” She began to stand up.
Ruel pressed her down onto the deck again. “No you won’t. That’s not how things work here. This is Rhona’s first claim as captain. You remember what happened when you accidentally told me information before Rhona heard it? That was your one free pass. Next time, she’ll hurt you.”
“But Meena told her she couldn’t do that.”
“No one tells Rhona what she can’t do. I’ve got the scars to prove it. She’ll just find another way to get what she wants. I hope you’re right about Geret; he’s the only one who has a chance to change her mind.”
“Does everyone else on board agree with what she did?”
“It’s always safer to agree with the captain.”
“But you don’t. Why not?”
>
He raised his eyebrows at her. “Because he’s not Clan.”
“Ruel! Eels take your wagging bait of a tongue!” Rhona growled, stalking up from behind Sanych. She reached down and grabbed two of his fingers, twisting them around and raising his palm to the sky, hauling him to his feet. He stood on tiptoe to avoid dislocating his digits.
“Aye, cap’n?” he asked, keeping his voice as calm as possible.
“Three shifts at the wheel, in absolute silence,” she ordered. “Starting now.” She flung his fingers away from her and crossed her arms.
Her cousin clenched his jaw and glared at her for a very long moment. Sanych wondered if he would dare disobey his captain.
In the end, he didn’t. He nodded curtly and stalked away.
Sanych remained silent, though she bit her lip to discourage herself from speaking. Despite Meena’s statement that Rhona was not to punish Sanych further, she recalled well the moment when Rhona’s dagger had missed her head by an inch.
Rhona squatted beside her and smiled. “Let’s get you out of the sun,” she said, and offered her hand to the Archivist, pulling her to her feet. “You’ve probably missed reading books; in case you didn’t notice, I have quite a collection of first editions and rare books aboard. You’re free to read them as often as you like; why not start now? We don’t want to overtax you with deck work, as special as you are to the Seamother.”
“All right,” Sanych agreed, wariness warring with her desire to find a peaceful balance with the pirate. She followed Rhona down to her cabin.
“Make yourself comfortable,” the captain said, ushering her in. “Geret’s just finishing up, and the crew will start bringing in the meal at noon. Come, Geret, let’s leave the Archivist to her reading.”
Sanych turned around, looking past the full bookcases. Geret stood on a stool along the wall, adjusting the cord that supported a new pair of red silken curtains which partitioned the room. His shirt lay over the back of a chair, and as he turned toward her, she saw a bejeweled medallion on a gold chain around his neck.
Her face must have spoken volumes on the subjects of confusion and annoyance, but she dared not open her mouth. Geret’s jaw clenched as he met her eyes, but he didn’t speak either. His face was taut as he pulled his shirt off the chair and began to put it back on.
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