Time's Demon

by D. B. Jackson

  Tobias remained doubtful. He didn’t argue with the captain in front of the crew, but when he and Mara retired to their pallet he admitted to fearing encounters with any navy.

  “The Aiyanthans might not be looking for us, but they’re sure to notice Sofya. It’s only a matter of time before word reaches the wrong ears.”

  The following morning, they spoke of hiding the family while authorities searched the ship. Much of Captain Larr’s trade was perfectly legal, but on occasion, she conducted business with smugglers and privateers. The Sea Dove had several concealed compartments, and even a false wall along the inner hull of the forward hold. They had no shortage of hiding places.

  The problem was, Sofya couldn’t be counted on to remain silent. If they were discovered in hiding, they would forfeit any chance they had to claim she was simply the child of a union between crew members.

  Larr finally convinced Tobias that they were best off sailing toward an Aiyanthan vessel and hoping that whoever searched the ship wouldn’t think too much of finding a child aboard. They agreed that they would attempt to time the encounter to coincide with Sofya’s nap. Best that she be below, asleep in the dim recesses of the hold.

  They maintained a northerly heading as the sun climbed higher and Sofya had her midday meal. After, Mara took her below. She lay down with her and whispered a nonsense story until the princess fell asleep. She remained with Sofya and soon heard the warship pull alongside their vessel. Voices, footsteps above deck, and finally the scrape of wooden hulls as the ships were lashed together. Sofya woke briefly, but Mara sang her back to sleep before returning to the deck.

  A frigate flying the gold and blue of Aiyanth floated hull to hull with Larr’s ship, which now flew an identical flag from her highest mast. As Mara watched, men and women in Aiyanthan uniforms streamed onto the Sea Dove, polite but clear in their intent to search the vessel.

  “May I ask what you’re looking for?” Larr asked the Aiyanthan commander.

  “The usual,” the woman answered. “Westisle pirates, Westisle blades and pistols, and, of course, wines and other spirits. We’ll search both your holds.”

  “Of course.”

  The captain darted a glance Mara’s way.

  “My daughter is asleep in the aft hold,” Mara said, her tone mild. “I only just got her to lie down. If your sailors can take care to be quiet, I’d be most grateful.”

  The commander considered her before turning back to Larr. “You have a child on the ship?”

  “Yes. Unusual I know, but–”

  “Only the one?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How old?”

  “One year and four turns,” Mara said.

  The commander’s shoulders dropped a bit, and some of the tension drained from her face.

  “We’re not slavers,” Larr said, “if that’s what you were thinking.”

  “You said it yourself: it’s unusual finding children on a merchant ship. But one that young…”

  “She’s not in chains,” Mara said, her tone flinty.

  “They’re not always on slaver ships, either.”

  “She’s not–”

  “It’s all right,” Larr said, laying her hand on Mara’s arm. “Search our ship, commander. Try not to wake the little one. You’ll see that we are exactly what we claim to be. A merchant ship seeking gold in the Ring.”

  The commander gave a stiff nod, eyed Mara, and walked away.

  “She was saying–”

  “I know what she was saying. When they go below, it will be obvious to them that we’re not a slave ship. There are no cages in the holds, no chains.”

  Mara glared after the Aiyanthan.

  “Their search won’t take long, and then we can be on our way.”

  Mara looked Tobias’s way. He already stared at her, appearing every bit as scared as she felt. They had decided before the boarding not to identify Sofya’s “father” if they didn’t have to. Tobias’s scars might raise additional questions. Mara could tell he didn’t like feigning indifference.

  As Larr predicted, the search of the Dove took little time. Nothing aboard the ship drew undo notice. Except Sofya.

  “You’re free to sail on, captain,” the commander told Larr, after the rest of her sailors had crossed back to the frigate.

  “Thank you.”

  “The girl is a curiosity, though. I might have heard something about a child on a ship. I can’t remember what I was told. My memory comes and goes.”

  “Does it?” the captain said, her tone light. “And the memories of your crew?”

  “They remember nothing I don’t, and everything I do.”

  Mara didn’t see Captain Larr pull the coins from her purse or pocket. They weren’t there, and then they were: golden, winking in the sunlight. Mara had no chance to count them. Larr cupped the coins in her palm and the commander gripped the captain’s hand in both of hers. She gave it a vigorous shake, as if to bid Larr a fond farewell, and released her. Mara didn’t see the coins again.

  The commander boarded her vessel, and soon the two crews had unlashed the ships. They sailed on in opposite directions.

  Tobias and Mara converged on the captain as she reclaimed the wheel.

  She noted their approach and turned her gaze back to the sea and the isles ahead. “That went well.”

  “How much do we owe you?” Mara asked.

  Larr shook her head. “That’s not how this works. I’ve told you before: you’re crew. All three of you.”

  “But–”

  “Don’t you have work to do? Or after all these turns do you fail to grasp that this ship doesn’t sail itself?”

  She said this with the faintest of smiles. Mara and Tobias left her – she for a pair of tangled lines high in the rear rigging, he for a portion of the port rail that needed repair.

  CHAPTER 31

  20th Day of Kheraya’s Fading, Year 634

  In the days that followed, the Sea Dove stopped at ports in Rencyr, where the captain and crew traded rope and cloth purchased in the Knot for Ijjoni kelp, wine, and jewelry. Some of what they acquired in the north they offloaded in the south or in ports in eastern Ensydar. They crossed the calm waters between the isles several times, conducting transactions on behalf of merchants in New Ijjon, Ensydar’s royal city, and Murcston, a port on the west shore of Rencyr.

  Tobias begrudged the leisurely pace of their voyaging. Now that they had chosen to pursue Bound devices, he was eager to find them. Captain Larr, though, cautioned him against his impatience, and assured him that they were doing precisely what anyone observing merchant ships in these warm waters would expect.

  “I don’t want to appear in too great a hurry to reach Aiyanth,” she told him. “Trade in this corner of the Outer Ring can keep a ship occupied for turns. We’ll get to Belsan soon enough.” She offered one of her confident grins. “Trust me, Mister Lijar.”

  What choice did he have?

  He and Mara worked the lines and the rigging. They cleaned the deck and mopped floors in the holds. They mended worn patches on the sails. Tobias even helped Gwinda with a few meals, discovering a hitherto unknown talent for cooking.

  Sofya had the run of the ship as ever, and enjoyed these crowded waters. She stood for bells at the prow or one of the rails, pointing at ships, noting the colors of different flags, goggling at the cities dotting every shoreline. Yadreg built small shelves for her to stand on at intervals throughout the deck. They raised her enough that she could peer through the open spaces near the tops of the rails, above the curve of the hull.

  Mara and Tobias didn’t need to carry her as much as they had. She didn’t fuss as often. On occasion, sailors aboard other vessels spotted her and waved. Always the princess waved back. To Tobias’s relief, few seemed particularly surprised to see a child on a ship.

  Captain Larr continued to navigate the common routes along Ensydar’s eastern shore, but over the course of a qua’turn they added voyages to Qyrshen at the north
ern end of the Inner Ring, to the southern ports of Aiyanth, and even to Trohsden at the northernmost reaches of Daerjen.

  “Only a great fool would bring the exiled princess of Daerjen back to her homeland,” Larr told Tobias, again seeking to ease his concerns. “And surely the people pursuing you don’t think you’re a fool.”

  During one of their stops in southern Aiyanth, the captain left the ship for the nearest marketplace, intending to inquire about Bound devices. Tobias and Mara remained on the Dove. He was no more impatient than usual. Mara was. She lurked along the rails, paced the deck, and finally resorted to swabbing the hold, her least favorite duty aboard the vessel.

  When the captain returned, they followed her to her quarters.

  Once they were inside, and the door closed, Larr opened her hands and hiked her shoulders.

  “I found nothing. I’m sorry.”

  “Maybe we should sail back to Rencyr,” Tobias said.

  “Rooktown might have something.”

  “It might. But all three merchants I spoke to told me the same thing, in almost the same words, which is unusual to say the least: if we want Bound devices, and we don’t wish to do business in the autarchy, there are only two cities worth visiting.”

  Tobias dragged a hand over his face. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

  “One is Hayncalde.”

  He gave a dry, bitter laugh. “Of course.”

  “The other is Belsan.”

  Tobias eyed the captain and then Mara. “That’s not so bad. We can reach Belsan in a day.”

  Larr nodded. “Yes, we can.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  The captain glanced Mara’s way.

  “Think about it, Tobias,” she said.

  He stared back at her, weighing Larr’s tidings, trying to grasp what they plainly did. When it came to him, he sagged. “Damn,” he whispered.

  “Were the merchants lying to you?” Mara asked the captain. “Could all three be working for the Sheraighs?”

  “No. I believe they’re getting information from sources, who are getting their information from other sources, and so on. Somewhere along the way, people who want us in Belsan have made it known that it’s the one reliable and safe place where you can buy a working chronofor.”

  Tobias’s thoughts swirled. “Do you think it’s true?” he asked. “Do you think we can find Bound devices in both cities?”

  “I don’t know,” Larr said. “It would be dangerous to find out. They want us in Belsan. So clearly we can’t go there. And they don’t think you would dare return to Hayncalde.”

  “Those can’t be the only two cities where merchants sell sextants and chronofors.”

  “I agree, but I don’t know where to find the information we need. If we’re right about this – if the information I’m getting is intended to steer us somewhere of your enemy’s choosing – then we have to assume that the channels I use to learn of such things have been polluted with lies. We can sail from city to city until we find what we’re after, but that could take turns. It could take a year.”

  “Do you know merchants in the autarchy?” Mara asked.

  Tobias slanted a look her way. So did the captain.

  “I do,” Larr said. “Wouldn’t making port there be as dangerous as going back to Hayncalde?”

  “Perhaps. Did any of the merchants mention Qaifin or Sholiss or Little Plenston?”

  Larr shook her head, and glanced at Tobias. “No, they didn’t.”

  “Orzili and his friends will be watching the market in Belsan, and they might think we’re daring enough to chance a visit to Hayncalde. Maybe they won’t expect us to try a city in Oaqamar.”

  They lapsed into silence.

  In time, the captain gave another shake of her head. “No. You make a compelling case. And if it was merely a matter of risking one of the cities you mentioned, I’d be willing to try. The problem would be navigating the waters between here and Oaqamar. Bribing Aiyanthan naval officers is one thing. Surviving an encounter with a marauder is quite another. The three of you would be found and all of us executed before we sailed within twenty leagues of Oaqamar’s shores. We can’t risk it.”

  “Then–”

  Larr cut her off with a raised hand. “One of the men I spoke to mentioned another idea, one that keeps us far from the autarchy, and allows us to avoid snares in Hayncalde or Belsan.”

  She had their interest.

  “What would you think of doing business with pirates?”

  “Westisle?” Tobias asked.

  “We wouldn’t have to go that far. Pirates patrol the Sea of Gales.”

  “I’m not sure I want Nava anywhere near them.”

  “Your caution would be warranted if we weren’t interested in trading with them. They can be ruthless in dealing with the navies of the Ring Isles, and they’ll prey on merchant ships that trespass in their waters. Offer them the opportunity to turn a profit, though, and they become as pliant as any merchant.”

  Tobias didn’t mask his skepticism.

  “Maybe not any merchant,” the captain admitted. “They can be rough. Then again, so can I. The point is, I’ve done business with them before. And I assure you, no one in Oaqamar or the House of Sheraigh can buy their loyalty.” She grinned. “They have none except to themselves.”

  “That’s hardly a flattering portrait.”

  “You don’t have to like them. You only have to believe that they can supply us with what we need.” After another pause, Larr said, “We don’t have to decide this now. It would be a long journey, and in the meantime, we can remain in these waters, perhaps increase the frequency of our runs to Qyrshen. There’s money to be made here. Talk about what we’ve discussed, let me know what you think.”

  Tobias and Mara thanked her and returned to their duties. Only later, on their pallet, did they speak in whispers of Larr’s proposal. Even then, they reached no easy decision. Tobias mistrusted the pirates of Westisle, recalling that in his own time they had been another enemy of Daerjen.

  Mara, determined still to find a sextant and chronofor, disputed this when he mentioned it.

  “Mearlan told me about the war, Mara. He admitted he’d been mistaken to fight in two theaters.”

  “I understand,” she said. “But in my future, there was no war. There may have been tensions between Hayncalde and Westisle, but that was all, and from all I know of this future we’re living now, the Sheraighs are content to leave Westisle alone.”

  This eased his worries some. “So you would trust them.”

  “No. They’re pirates. I don’t trust them at all. I trust the captain. If she thinks we can find what we need in the Sea of Gales, and she’s willing to put the Sea Dove at risk, we ought to let her. She’s given us no reason to doubt her.” Mara kissed him, ran a gentle finger over his cheek. “Sleep. You heard her: we don’t have to decide tonight.”

  She soon followed her own advice. Tobias remained awake, turning over possibilities in his mind, finding promise under some and serpents under others. Having Bound devices would be a great help to them. She could span to places they needed to explore, potentially saving them days, or even turns, at sea. And if they found a chronofor, he could go back to Hayncalde and warn Mearlan of the attempt on his life and family.

  Or could he? Already, Orzili or one of his allies had followed Tobias through time. Might he do so again? Wasn’t it likely that Orzili would find a way to thwart any attempt Tobias made to correct this misfuture? If so, a voyage into the Sea of Gales would be an unnecessary risk, a vain pursuit of a stratagem doomed to fail. His thoughts circled in this way for a bell, and then another. The ship creaked and rocked. He heard footsteps on the wharf outside the vessel, then voices.

  He tensed and felt for his flintlock, which he kept within reach.

  When he heard drunken laughter he exhaled and let go of the pistol. His hand was sweaty and his heart raced.

  This is no way to live.

  Maybe it didn’
t matter that having a Bound chronofor wouldn’t allow him to repair the damage done to Sofya’s past. Maybe it was enough that having devices would help them fight Orzili now, in this time. Maybe it was enough that he would be less afraid.

  Orzili had Spanners and all of them had sextants. By now, they had probably replaced the tri-sextants. Tobias believed the assassin had a Walker working for him as well, one with a working chronofor. They were outgunned and that was unacceptable.

  He didn’t wish to treat with pirates, but after all they had been through, he was ready to follow Mara’s instincts and Captain Larr’s. He wasn’t sure he trusted his own.

  CHAPTER 32

  20th Day of Kheraya’s Fading, Year 634

  Riding Qiyed over waves of sea and bay pleased Droë more than she had imagined it would. Just as she had found joy in flying with Treszlish so many turns before, she relished the speed and grace of the Arrokad’s body as he skimmed over breakers or dove through them, dousing her, leaving her laughing with such abandon she could barely breathe.

  Her resentment of the Most Ancient One lingered. Curled within it, hidden, she hoped, from his perception, she nurtured her defiance, her determination not to remain forever under his thrall.

  Still, she took genuine delight in their explorations. Though centuries old, she had seen precious little of Islevale. Now, with Qiyed as her guide, she visited the isles of the Bone Sea, the wild waters of the Sea of Gales, the quiet lands at the southern end of the Outer Ring. She fed on sailors, merchants, men and women of every isle, from the Knot to Westisle, from the Sisters to Liyrelle.

  As they journeyed, Qiyed demanded that she tell him more of the misfuture, of all that Mara said that day on the promontory, and all that she knew of events in Daerjen. When she tried to deflect his questions, to mete out what she knew and maintain some leverage in their commerce, he grew angry and threatened to hurt her. In the end, she told him all.

  He also used her as a tool in his commerce with other Ancients. One night on the southern sands of Vleros, after he had found a human woman who wished to lie with him, he instructed Droë to seek out a Shonla who owed him a boon.