by Anna Bowman
“Morning,” she said.
He didn’t answer, just got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. Rayn’s eyes narrowed.
“Jank?” she said, but the engineer was already walking from the room without acknowledging she was even there.
Rayn shook her head and started reassembling her revolver, yawning. Her eyelids felt heavy.
Of course, now that I’m up.
She wasn’t going back to bed, though. Leaning forward to rest her head on folded arms, she closed her eyes.
The smell of coffee and bacon caused her to wake up two hours later. Lifting her head, she saw Jank standing by the stove.
“Saw you sleepwalking last night,” she said, rubbing her eyes.
Jank’s whole body tensed and he whirled around, looking green.
“What?”
Rayn stretched her arms overhead, wondering what his problem was.
“Last night. Well, a couple hours ago,” she said, glancing at the clock. “You walked in here, still asleep.”
“I don’t sleepwalk!” Jank snapped and turned his back on her as Solomand walked in the room.
Giving the engineer a curious look, Solomand poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down by Rayn. He nodded towards Jank.
“What’s that about?” he asked.
“No idea.” Rayn shrugged. “I saw him sleepwalking last night and said something to him about it.”
“Ah.” Understanding registered on Sol’s face. “That would be why.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “You can’t mention sleepwalking in front of him. He gets seven kinds of…touchy.”
He took a sip of his coffee and leaned back.
“Why?”
Rayn tucked hair behind her ears, casting a confused look at Jank.
“I’ll explain later,” Sol said. “Not right now. Not while he’s around.”
Rayn rolled her eyes.
What the hell is it with everyone having secrets?
She shrugged, supposing she owed it to Jank after getting Solomand mad at him.
“Are we going hunting again?” she asked.
“Why? You want to go back and finish the job, do you?”
He stared at her over the rim of his coffee cup.
Rayn heaved a sigh.
“Their. Spots. Were. Gone.”
His vague smile was hard to interpret.
“Sorry. No hunting today.”
He pulled out his silver tobacco case and began rolling a cigarette.
“I have other things to attend to. You’ll have to entertain yourself.”
Rayn pressed the palms of her hands on the table.
“I don’t need to be entertained,” she said.
Of all the stupid ideas.
“Sorry,” Solomand said again. “You’re welcome to mangle as many tree rats as your heart desires.” He cleared his throat. “Just don’t wander down into the valley and slaughter a pregnant coyote or anything.”
He stood to leave.
Her head tilted to the side.
“Did anyone ever tell you, you’re a jackass?”
“Lots of times,” he laughed. “But you’re the first today.”
Chapter 14
Solomand
Ivan was less like a walking corpse than when Solomand had first dragged him here. His face was not so gaunt. A faint outline of cedar brown hair covered his once-shaved head, barely hiding the shape of his skull. Every time Solomand looked at Ivan, it brought that day to his mind. Then the pain would start to stab and tighten in his chest until he thought he would suffocate. The thought made him inadvertently tug on his collar. He might have called that day second worst day of his life, but the past all ran together as one searing wound, branded on his mind. He couldn’t blame the Slav for wanting to forget everything. But it was time for him to face reality, as the rest of them had.
Solomand placed a plate of cold rolls on the floor and eyed the half-empty bowl of stew.
“Thought you wanted to kill me, Ice Man,” he said, louder than necessary; the following silence carried more weight than a threat would have.
Ivan made a growling noise and moved his arm from where it had been draped over his face. His eyes flashed open.
Solomand flipped over a wooden crate and dragged it directly across from Ivan’s cot before sitting down. The overbearing smell of his burning cigarette somewhat masked the scent of sweat and urine in the stale air of the cellar. Without turning to look at him, Ivan reached out a filthy hand toward Solomand. Solomand took note of how steady his fingers were before passing him what was left of his cigarette. Ivan breathed in the smoke, his eyes fixed in a furious glare at the cobwebs on the low ceiling.
“You call me Ice Man again…I tear off your head.”
He sounded calm, almost like his old self.
Solomand grinned. “You’re welcome to try.”
His elbows dropped to his knees, and he laced his hands together, resting his chin on his thumbs. His nose burned as he breathed in the smell of the room. Ivan needed fresh air and sunlight. This fetid hole of a makeshift jail cell wasn’t doing him any good.
Solomand frowned.
“What are the odds a room up top would keep you from breaking out and trying to murder me in my sleep?”
Ivan’s chest fell as he breathed out a circle of smoke.
“Not good.”
Solomand shook his head.
“Thought as much. Tristan wouldn’t approve, you know.”
Ivan’s jaw tightened, the flicker of fire in his eyes growing more intense. This was the only emotion he offered.
Solomand scraped the heel of his boot across the floor, leaving a trail in the dirt.
“He wants to see you,” he said, his voice less antagonizing.
Ivan hungrily took a drag until the cigarette was close to burning his fingers.
“No.”
He dropped the glowing butt to the side of his bunk. His eyes shut as he raked a hand over his face and scratched at a month’s worth of stubble.
“Not yet.”
Solomand rubbed his arm; his face hardened. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back. If he thought for a moment, Ivan would accept his apology he would not have hesitated.
He won’t.
The knot in his stomach tightened, and Solomand kept quiet once again. It was the fear of admitting his mistake, spilling out his heart to his friend, and being told in all sincerity to go to hell, that Solomand feared. He had lost too much already to bear the thought.
“Alright. I don’t sleep that much, anyway.” He stood up with a heavy sigh and scooped up the half-empty bowl. “Tomorrow me and Will are going to escort you to your new room—willing or not.”
Ivan grunted.
“Don’t worry,” Solomand said. “I’ll have Jank install some special reinforcements to the door.”
“Will not be strong enough,” Ivan said in a matter of fact way.
Solomand rolled his eyes as he turned away.
He might be right.
The chain rattled as he unlocked the door. Before he started up the stairs, he saw Ivan sit up on the cot, place the plate of rolls in his lap, and begin to eat. Solomand could only imagine what was going through his mind as he fixed murderous eyes in his direction.
Probably thinking about a creative and painful way to kill me.
Solomand darted back up the stairs. A grin on his face. It was a start, at least.
Chapter 15
Will
Zee’s eyes peeked from over the top of her cards; her amber stare surveying Will. Her head tilted to the side, she laid three cards face-down on the table. She leaned back on the chair, swinging her bare feet back and forth as she clutched the rest of the pile to her chest.
“Three aces,” she said.
Will ran a finger under the edge of his eyepatch. The clock ticking was pronounced in the silence of the kitchen.
“You’re bluffing.”
Zee’s shoulders
slumped, and she let out a groan as she collected the cards back into her ever-growing stack.
Will lay out his last four cards.
“Queens.”
Zee’s eyes narrowed as she leaned forward as if getting closer to him would reveal whether he was telling the truth.
“Bluff,” she said.
Will flipped over the cards one by one; the first three were queens. He paused on the last as Zee’s eyes widened in hope. She groaned as he took his time flipping it over to reveal a queen.
She tossed her cards down and leaned her elbows on the table, slumping her head onto her right hand. “You cheated.”
Will gave a faint smile. “You can’t cheat at Bluff, Zee” He gathered all the cards back into a pile and began shuffling them.
“Oh yeah? Then how come you always win?”
Will tapped the deck on the palm of his hand, edging all the cards back into a neat stack.
“Because I’m better at it than you.”
He reached over and flicked her on the forehead.
Zee scowled.
“Why?”
“Just am.”
He shuffled the cards one more time and began dealing them out between the two of them.
Because I’m an Olbian.
He didn’t bother to say this to the girl. She wouldn’t understand anyway. Memories like passing shadows crossed his mind of growing up in the bustling desert city. Expressing emotion was a sign of weakness, and not suitable for the forces of Olbia’s ‘Iron Knights.’ That was all a lifetime ago. But it came in handy at times, especially when dealing with games that required reading other people: like bluff or poker
He settled back into his seat, fanning his cards out to look at them.
“You go first.”
Lines formed on Zee’s brow and she leaned back, biting her lip as she selected four cards from her pile and lay them in front of her.
“Fives.”
Will fixed his speculative stare on her once more; there always seemed a thin veil over his earth-toned eye, hiding what the windows to the soul might reveal in others.
“Bluff,” he said.
Zee’s lips pursed together as she flipped the cards over one by one: all fives.
“You knew I wasn’t bluffing,” she pouted.
Will grinned, collecting the cards into his pile.
“I thought you wanted to win.”
“Yeah—I didn’t want you to let me win.” She waved her hand in exasperation. Her too-large sleeve sank to her thin elbow.
“Sorry. If we had three, it would be a better game.”
Zee sighed and set her cards down.
“Jank’s no good. Even I could tell if he’s bluffing. D’ya think that Rayn would play with us?”
Will shrugged, stacking his cards atop hers.
“Maybe.”
Zee shoved her hair from her eyes, her head tilting to the side again.
“Who is she really, Will?”
Will’s eyes narrowed.
“Talk to Sol about that, Zee.”
He held his hand up as he yawned.
Zee leaned forward across the table.
“Sol’s scared of her.”
Will bit back a laugh. That was a hard statement to argue with.
“I think he likes her,” Zee added.
Will stood as the girl continued to chatter. This conversation had the potential to veer down a path he did not want to take.
“I like her too. She’s not like that...witch.” Zee stood up as he did. “Do you like her, Will?”
Will didn’t look at the girl.
“Yeah, Zee.”
The girl’s feet slapped on the floor as she trailed behind him.
“I think you have a better chance than Sol does. She seems like she wants to knock him out most of the time.”
Will shook his head and ruffled Zee’s hair.
“Go. Talk. To Sol about this.”
He pretended like he was going to shove her away, but Zee ducked from his reach.
“Too slow.”
She scampered down the hall, and he heard the door slam behind her. Zee rarely spoke a word to anyone beyond their crew, but she always talked the most around Will. He didn’t mind, but Rayn was not a topic for discussion. That was up to Solomand, who would dodge the girl’s questions like he did everyone else’s, which only complicated things. Will didn’t like complicated.
He followed Zee outside and stopped short to see her walking along the railing of the walkway, her arms out for balance. He resisted the urge to yell at her to get down as he saw Solomand traipsing up from the docks, hands stuffed in his coat pockets. Rayn was with him. The sun streaming through the trees played on the different shades of red in her loose braid.
She was rolling her eyes as she talked in an argumentative tone.
“Spry is a stupid name for an airship,” she said.
“That so? Well, it happens that it’s easier to alter existing registration papers than fabricate new…”
Solomand stopped short of what he was saying, his eyes falling on Zee’s acrobatic display.
“Zee!”
He jerked his hands out of his pockets and ran, pointing at the girl.
“How many times have I told you not to do that?”
Zee teetered to one side, and Solomand dashed toward her.
Zee caught herself, cartwheeling to the side and sprinted into the woods, grinning over her shoulder at him.
“Go climb a tree!”
Solomand called after her, his shoulders relaxing as he breathed in relief. Rayn laughed at him behind her hand, then cleared her throat when she caught his sideways glare.
Solomand shook his head as he passed Will.
“I’ve told her a million times. She’s going to break her neck one day.”
Will nodded in agreement.
“Yeah. She’s hard of hearing. Kinda like you sometimes.”
His eye flicked from Rayn and then back to Sol.
Sol stiffened and lit a cigarette.
“Et tu, Ennea?”
“Et tu?” Will’s eyebrow raised.
“Never mind. You Olbians don’t read much, do you?”
“No.” Will crossed his arms.
Sol shrugged, running a hand along his chin. “Not that I do either. Suppose Tristan’s endless quoting sinks in sometimes. Don’t suppose you could talk Rayn out of going to Trader’s Cove with us?”
Will glanced at Rayn. Her jaw was set defiantly.
“Sorry.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “But if I gave you a list, you’d muck it up, and then I couldn’t fix your cannon, now, could I? I’m going with you.” She wrinkled her nose at Sol.
“Well, when you put it like that, I don’t have much choice, do I? Unless, of course, Will can sway you?”
Will clapped his friend on the shoulder, causing him to choke on the cigarette smoke he inhaled. Coughing, Solomand beat a fist against his chest.
“Nope. I’ll leave that to you, Captain. Don’t get paid enough for that kind of negotiation.”
He trekked down toward the docks, his walk resembling a drawn-out march.
“Traitor!” Sol’s voice raised. “You don’t get paid anything.”
Will turned and gave Solomand a quick, two-fingered salute. “Good luck, Captain.” He grinned.
Chapter 16
Rayn
After sailing southeast for two days, the Spry docked at the seedy port on Trader’s Cove. If possible, it was even more dilapidated than the dock at Solomand’s hideaway. Some of the scaffolding piles were fractured in places, patched with newer wooden braces that looked as though they’d been scrounged from a scrap heap. The whole construction leaned, swaying and creaking in an unsettling way with the slightest touch from travelers or the breeze. A gray mist hung over the hill-town in the morning, and it looked more like the splintered remains of a ghost town rather than a flourishing trading post.
Solomand was already waiting outside the open bay doors whe
n Rayn came down at sunrise. The rain that had ushered them into port the previous night was gone. The discolored planks were damp from more than water, though. Rayn’s boots slid on the splotches of grease, leaked from barrels of oil rolled from cargo ships. She hopped aside when the board sank under her weight; one of the many rotted spots peppered around missing boards. The air was thick with the smell of oil, fish, and a combination of other scents. Rayn held her breath and drew a hand over her nose.
“Coffee?”
Solomand looked a little too cheery for the hour of the day and the atmosphere. He took a sip of his own while pouring her a cup from a dented thermos. He held out the chipped mug to her.
“Thanks.”
Rayn had to admit, there was something about the oil-consistency brew that was beginning to grow on her. Besides, the warm steam on her face helped mask the unique odors of Trader’s Cove. She took a sip, her eyes passing over the town emerging as sunlight forced the murky fog away. Dirt streets, muddy from rain, weaved through the town square. The city itself looked more like a conglomeration of elevated shacks, built against one another to keep them from falling down. Dark alleys snaked between some of the more distantly spaced ones. Rolling hills sloped down in the distance.
“Why’s it called Trader’s Cove? Doesn’t look like a cove to me?” Rayn remarked.
She took another hasty sip and burned her tongue.
Solomand shrugged.
“Hell if I know. Probably named by a pirate—cove sounds more…piratey than Trader’s Hill, I’d imagine.” He tipped his mug up, finishing off the rest of his coffee. “We’ll set off once Zee and Jank get here.” He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and set the empty cup inside the bay on a crate. “Best trading’s done in the morning.” He rubbed his eyes, moving his hand over his mouth to cover a yawn.
“Depending on what you’re trading for, anyway.”
Zee appeared beside Solomand, lingering behind him. Jank staggered out in his grease-stained engineer’s jumpsuit; the top was unzipped, and the sleeves were tied around his waist. He scratched his wiry, brown hair, yawning.
“’Bout time,” Solomand said. Jank gave him a sour look and muttered in a low voice. “Mind your language, Jank.”