by Ann Aguirre
“I hear you came with Szarok,” Fade said some while later. He smelled of cedar smoke and liquor, but he wasn’t drunk.
“He’s here?” Deuce asked, perking up.
She clearly liked the Uroch leader, but Tegan suspected she didn’t know him well enough to hold that opinion. He’d done his best to make a good impression on the great and terrible Huntress who had slaughtered so many of his kind. Apparently he cares less about influencing the company healer.
“He said he had business with James’s father … and before you ask, no. I don’t know what kind.”
A wry grin quirked Deuce’s mouth. Even when she smiled, she wasn’t attractive. Living underground had left her sickly pale with skin that never took color, only peeled and burned and peeled again. Likewise, her eyes were a milky gray, and her teeth uneven. But she was fierce, loyal, and lethal in a fight. Tegan would do her best never to cross her.
“It’s not my business,” the Huntress muttered.
“I’m your business,” Fade said, settling beside her.
Tegan mumbled something as she headed for the loft. It was impossible to talk to them when they were like this. Since Millie was a smart girl, she followed Tegan up, where two pallets were already spread. The space smelled smoky and sweet, cozy because of the hot air wafting upward from the fire. Sighing, Tegan snuggled into her blankets.
“They’re not what I expected,” Millie whispered.
“Nobody ever is.”
That seemed to settle the conversation. Fade and Deuce quieted downstairs and eventually retreated to their room. Lying in the dark, Tegan stared up at the rafters, wondering why she felt out of sorts. Aggravated at herself, she closed her eyes. They snapped open when she realized she was worried about Szarok, where he might be sleeping, if he’d eaten, if he was cold, and whether his errand had gone well. James should have offered hospitality, and he had ample space to play host. Yet such thoughts weren’t like her.
Odd. But I suppose you can get used to anything.
In the morning, she woke, still wondering, so she slipped out of the loft before anyone else awakened. The sky was still pink and gold, light creeping over the water and painting the treetops. They truly had a lovely view from here, and she paused long enough to savor it before putting on her boots and hastening toward town. Market vendors were barely stirring, though the boatmen had already taken to the water, and fishermen were casting nets from rowing boats closer to the shore. Awed, she watched one woman’s impeccable balance despite the rocking of the water, momentarily distracted from her errand.
“I consider myself to possess reasonable courage, but I’d rather be burned alive than try that,” a deep voice rumbled at her shoulder.
Tegan turned and found Szarok, hooded as ever. His brown-clad figure created a little chaos near the pier where they stood, townsfolk giving second and third looks and a wide berth. That unnecessary caution sparked an urge to scold, but Tegan restrained it because she reckoned he wouldn’t welcome her interference. Still, she understood all too well how it felt to be alone among your enemies.
“You hate the water that much?”
“I believe you already know the answer, healer. Did I not make my discomfort plain during yesterday’s crossing?”
She had noticed that he crouched in the center of the boat, his claws dug into the wood as if he could prevent the craft from flipping through sheer determination. “I’m teasing. Don’t the Uroch do that?”
“We do,” he said with gentle stress. “But that presumes a certain degree of kinship.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” Genuine regret pierced her.
“Presumption sometimes reads like kindness, if it’s well meant.”
“If you say so. Did James take care of you last night?”
It was impossible to see more than a hint of his features, given the angle of the rising sun and the shadow of his cowl. “Was he supposed to?”
“Then I guess not. Where did you sleep?”
He paused, probably weighing whether she needed that information. In the end, he gave it, though Tegan didn’t know why. “I made camp outside the village. It seemed … safer.”
“Than what? Staying with James or asking for a room at the tavern?”
“Either. Take your pick.”
“Deuce and Fade will put you up. There’s a space in their loft with Millie and me.” Tegan made the offer on impulse, but she had no doubt her friends would back it up.
Szarok stared at her in silence.
If not for the Uroch joining their side and negotiating with the Gulgur, they would’ve made their final stand at the river. None of us would even be here, so I can’t believe they’re treating him this way. With a ferocious scowl, she tugged at his sleeve.
“Come, they’ll be fixing breakfast. Don’t dawdle.”
Without waiting to see if he’d follow, she led the way through town, back to the cottage. Though sometimes she felt wistful about not having such a place of her own, she also understood that meant being unable to pick up and go on a whim. Roots in the ground equaled personal business to tend, and she wanted no part of that. There were dolphins in the world, after all, and they were only the first of many wonders.
When she stepped through the front door, Szarok in tow, Deuce waved from stirring something in a pot. It smelled like burning. Laughing, Fade took the spoon from her and whispered something that made her hit him. Millie was sitting at the table, wearing a shy smile. Her visible relief at recognizing Tegan made her feel bad for sneaking out.
“I brought someone,” she murmured somewhat unnecessarily.
“You shouldn’t have needed bringing,” Deuce said to Szarok. “Take off that cloak. It’s plenty warm in here, and we all know what you look like.”
Fade echoed the greeting as he served somewhat charred porridge. There was also bread, cheese, and fruit, along with baked fish left from the night before. Fade brought a chair from the back room, so everyone had a place at the table. Tegan served herself a little of everything, letting the conversation wash over her; she noticed the Uroch didn’t eat much. Deuce and Fade carried most of it as they offered Szarok news related to the Evergreen Isle.
And eventually Deuce asked so Tegan didn’t have to. “I hear you had business with the elder Morrow. Anything serious?”
“It’s not your worry,” Fade muttered.
Tegan had the sense he said that a lot. She stifled a smile.
“I’d rather not discuss it until I have an answer from the governor.” It was a polite refusal, but Szarok definitely had no desire to involve Deuce in his affairs.
That quelled the talk a little, so Tegan did her part to liven things up again. “I need to speak with him myself. He might know something about Catalina.”
“Can I go with you?” Millie asked softly.
“Certainly. Unless I don’t know him as well as I think, James should appear shortly and he’ll escort us.”
Before the breakfast dishes were put away, Morrow proved Tegan right. Deuce laughed as she answered his knock and called, “Good thing I didn’t bet against you.”
“I’m so predictable?” The storyteller hung his head in mock despair.
Quietly, Szarok followed Fade out to help with some household chore. Tegan had already gathered her bag, as she didn’t like to move without it, just in case someone needed treatment. Her time with Doc Tuttle had persuaded her that preparation was half the key to saving lives. As she set out, she noticed that Millie practically glowed over seeing James again. She tried to hang back and let the girl monopolize his attention, but James caught on and slowed his pace, putting himself between them.
You are too kind, truly.
Passing the docks for the second time, Tegan didn’t expect anything of note, but a larger ship than she’d ever seen had its sails unfurled, streaming toward Rosemere. She stopped and got jostled from behind. James drew her smoothly out of the path of some merchants lugging a crate of wares, and she pushed his hand away
half-heartedly, her gaze locked.
He laughed quietly. “The long-haulers don’t come often, but when they do, you can expect some excitement.”
“Who are they? Where are they from? What kind of excitement?” The questions tumbled out of Millie and, for once, Tegan shared her enthusiasm.
“By their colors, this ship’s out of Antecost, an isle north of here. They’ve got goods to trade, for sure. About twice a year they stop to see if anyone wants to sign on for a long voyage.”
“To where?” Tegan demanded.
James furrowed his brow, seeming troubled. “You’d have to talk to their captain to learn more. They’ll be docked for a few days, laying in supplies.”
“Ah, there’s no rush, then. I do have a question for your father. We should take care of that first.”
“Maybe I can help?” he offered.
“Do you know of anyone or anything called Catalina?”
“Hm. That’s familiar. Why … oh. I’m positive that was the name of an island in an old book. But it’s across the world. I don’t know of anyone who’s ever traveled so far. At least, if they went, they never came back.”
Dr. Wilson wouldn’t have sent me on an impossible quest.
With a final look at the impressive ship still some distance away, she turned. Millie seemed just as riveted, so Tegan tapped the girl’s arm. She practically stumbled over her feet as they moved away from the docks and toward the market. The back-and-forth of haggling villagers contrasted sharply with the solemn atmosphere in Winterville.
It’s like a different world, here.
“Is that all you can remember?” Tegan asked, disappointed.
James took her arm to guide her around a wagon stalled in the road and then paused to ask if the man fiddling with the wheel needed any help. “Do you have your tools, Cedric? I can run to your workshop—”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll be done in a jiff.”
Millie smiled as they went by, seeming charmed by everything Rosemere had to offer. In fact, the other girl opted out of visiting the governor in favor of chatting with people in the market. James watched her, evidently concerned about leaving her behind, and Tegan nudged him when he didn’t appear to realize he’d left her question dangling.
“James,” she prompted.
“Yes, right. Well, there was a woman,” he said, teasing her with a bright spark of hope that foundered when he frowned. “Wait, no. She might’ve been Catarina. I’d need to confirm with my father. I was pretty young when she died.”
“Then let’s ask him.”
Silence Answered
The conversation with Morrow’s father revealed no new information, and it was nearly lunchtime by the time they finished with lengthy pleasantries. Frustration simmered like a soup at low boil, but she didn’t know who Dr. Wilson had wanted her to talk to. You taught me so much … yet I can’t do this simple thing for you. James stood as she did, but he wasn’t done with his tea, so she waved him off.
“I know the way back,” she said. “Please don’t rush on my account.”
But she should have known that wouldn’t discourage him. She refused his arm when he offered it, and he walked her back toward town while she stewed in frustrated silence. Millie met them on the outskirts, visibly excited by something she’d heard.
The girl grabbed James’s arm. “Is there really a library in Rosemere?”
That was exactly the right distraction, because James lit up like a storm lantern. “Yes, there’s a building in town. I’ve been bringing back volumes from my travels, oh, for the last four years.”
“Would it be too much trouble for you to show me?”
Quashing a flicker of amusement, Tegan left them to sort out their plans for the afternoon. Doubtless James would be irritated when he realized she’d slipped away, but he loved books enough for that to count as compensation. She enjoyed the solitary walk back toward Deuce’s cottage, bathing in the silence as one would a big copper tub. Peace washed over her and eased some of her impatience. Perhaps Dr. Wilson wouldn’t blame her if she couldn’t solve the riddle he’d unintentionally set forth, but she would always feel unworthy as his last student, should that eventuality occur.
She passed the tavern first, low trills of smoke puffing out the chimney, and then the market. The stalls were open now, though only a small number of vendors came every day, mostly fish and produce. As for the wares Millie had admired, they only showed their finery a couple of times a week, as it was impossible to earn a living on beauty alone. Tegan stopped at the dock, because the ship she had admired from afar had dropped anchor and they were rowing their party ashore.
A sailor nearby turned to her and likely guessed her next question. “The water’s too shallow for a ship that size. They’d run aground.”
“Thank you,” she said, smiling. “I did wonder.”
“You’re James’s girl, aren’t you?”
That claim pricked her like a needle left in a cushion. “He is my friend, yes. We fought together in the war.”
The man’s gaze went to the polished staff she carried, and his smile brightened. “You’re the healer. I’m sorry to ask, but would you mind checking out my shoulder?”
Oh dear.
Tegan tried not to make a face, but this was the most common response when people recognized her. I’m lucky it’s not worse this time. Yet she always carried her bag for just this sort of request, so she glanced around and found an empty space in the shade. The sun shone surprisingly bright for a day so late in the fall, but the blue sky made up for the heat.
“Come, I’ll have a look.”
The sailor whipped off his shirt with no concern for who might be watching. She noticed the lump on his left shoulder immediately, and he flinched when she applied pressure. A few moments later she felt reasonably sure of her diagnosis.
“Is it serious?” the sailor asked.
“I think not. This is most likely a boil. It needs to be lanced and cleaned. At some point, it may rupture on its own, but it will become considerably more painful and swollen before then.”
“I’m supposed to set sail in a few days. I promised Captain Advika. Will I be hale enough for a long voyage?”
“I don’t see why not,” she said. “It isn’t a life-threatening condition, but I can’t take care of it here.”
“Oh.” The sailor seemed disappointed that she wouldn’t take a knife to him on the pier.
Tegan didn’t feel comfortable offering Deuce and Fade’s cottage up for medical services, either. If this man told anyone else, soon she’d have a line out the door, and her friends would have no peace as long as she remained under their roof. A glance around didn’t suggest an immediate solution, either.
“The tavern has a storeroom. Would that work?”
“Let’s take a look.”
It was better than she’d hoped. When he heard what she needed to do, the proprietor helped the sailor stack the crates, clearing one half of the space. Then he offered a set of clean sheets for her use. Her patient sat down on a crate and waited for treatment to begin.
Half an hour later she had a bowl of bloodstained cloth, a fresh bandage tied around the sailor’s shoulder, and a line outside the door. The tavern owner must have let it slip that she was treating ailments, so it wasn’t surprising that this would be the result. Doctors were few and far between in the free territories, so she worked willingly through lunch and beyond. Some just wanted someone to listen for a moment while others truly needed help. One old woman with a persistent cough didn’t like hearing she needed to give up her pipe.
By the time Tegan emerged from the back room, carrying her sack of tribute offered in exchange for medical care, the main hall was full of farmers and sailors. She’d seen most of them in passing, but she didn’t recognize the tall, brown-skinned woman with a mass of black braids. Like Deuce, this woman preferred pants to skirts and hers fit well, belted around the hips, heavy with pouches and weapons. Her tunic gleamed with bits of gold, lendi
ng her an audacious charm.
“You must be Dr. Tegan,” the tall woman called with an infectious smile.
She offered a cautious smile in response. “Do you know me?”
“Everyone in Rosemere’s singing your praises. You must’ve seen twenty malingerers today. Buy you a drink?”
She realized she was both tired and thirsty, so she nodded. “Yes, please.”
“Barkeep, another mug!” In response, the owner slid a cup of cider, which the woman caught neatly.
Tegan accepted it and clacked it against the woman’s in a casual toast. “They weren’t pretending to be ill, you know. I’m just glad I didn’t have to deliver any terrible news.”
“I imagine. Give me the open sea any day.”
“You’re the long-haul captain?” If she hadn’t been so tired, she would’ve already guessed as much.
Deducting points for stating the obvious, Dr. Wilson whispered.
“Pleased to meet you. I don’t suppose you’re interested in signing on for a voyage? I’m always looking to add a doctor to my crew, but they’re hard to come by. Anyone who’s spent so much time learning isn’t usually willing to sail off into the unknown.”
Tegan paused, her mug midway to her mouth. “I’ve always wanted to travel.”
“I’ll be in port for four days. I’m staying here until then, so if you decide to take me up on it, stop by anytime.”
“Thank you.” After draining the mug, she set it on the counter and nodded a weary farewell to her new acquaintance with the intriguing offer. Belatedly it occurred to her. “Have you ever heard of an island named Catalina?”
“Of course,” the captain said. “Never been. It’s beyond even what I’ve attempted.”
The subtle stress implied that Advika was well-known for daring trips, and that made Tegan pause. “I’d love to hear more about your travels.”
“I’ll look for you tomorrow.”
She threaded through the crowd, and though a few drinkers took a second look, her staff made them reconsider. Tegan wasn’t sure if it stemmed from respect for her profession or the fact that she could crack their skulls if they aggravated her. Possibly it was some combination of the two. Outside, the sun had crept across the sky, throwing shadows as the day died. The light went faster here for some reason. In a heartbeat the colors faded and then dropped into deepest night, spangled with stars.
