Great Chief

by Lindsay Buroker

  “What’s that?” Yanko’s head wasn’t pounding like it had been the last day he’d been awake and trying to use his magic, but his body ached and he felt tremendously weak. He swallowed the charcoal concoction.

  “The Kyattese drug,” Tynlee said.

  “We found some?” At first, Yanko thought they’d somehow sailed to the Kyatt Islands in the three days he had been unconscious, but that wasn’t possible. “Or made some?”

  “The latter. The Turgonian research ships had some medical books along, including a Kyattese text similar to the one we were studying. It had the ingredients list of the drug, and they had a better-stocked laboratory than I expected. They were able to create and compound the medicine.” She sounded surprised.

  “Rias has been encouraging our people to catch up with technological advancements in fields outside of engineering and metallurgy,” Dak said.

  “He’s good for your nation,” Tynlee said. “Though the rest of the world preferred it when Turgonia was backward in a lot of ways.”

  “I can imagine.”

  Tynlee pushed the second cup into Yanko’s hands. After three days, he needed to attend to biological needs and worried that his bladder would explode if he drank more before doing so, but Tynlee’s face was as stern as Dak’s at the moment, and he feared she would follow him to the head if he didn’t drink first.

  “Zirabo wants to talk to you,” she told Yanko as he chugged the new beverage. It was chalky and far more disgusting than the charcoal. “He’s pinged us twice on the communications orb, and I updated him with everything you’ve been doing.”

  Yanko grimaced, “Just me?”

  Kei let out a questioning chirp, and Yanko reached over and stroked his feathers.

  “The rest of us haven’t done anything that significant.” Tynlee’s nose wrinkled. “Fifteen pirate ships arrived in the bay yesterday waving a truce flag. The beleaguered Turgonian medical researcher is struggling to find ingredients to make enough of the drug for everyone. We’ve already given them charcoal, and it, in addition to staying away from the plants, is helping. Aldercrest is only grudgingly sharing some of the more potent drug with the pirates because Dak pressured him to.” She nodded toward him, as if passing the rest of the story to him to tell.

  “I told him Prince Zirabo wished it, and that we’re allies with him currently.” Dak’s eyebrows drew down. “Even though I know that’s only your story and that Zirabo didn’t give you permission to make any of those promises, nor is he currently in a position to grant them, even if he agreed wholeheartedly. Unless something has changed?” He looked at Tynlee.

  “Zirabo told me he’s managed to gather some high-ranking military officers to help lead his troops but that he wants Yanko there before he marches on the capital.”

  “Me? What can I do?”

  “Maybe he needs some plants moved,” Dak said blandly.

  Yanko groaned, not that pleased to find out that someone had updated Dak on all of his adventures. Or misadventures.

  “You’re his right-hand man now,” Tynlee said, “as you claimed. You better go talk to him. Here, take your drink.”

  Yanko glowered at the pink concoction. “I was just trying to talk everybody into laying down their weapons. You two know that. I don’t truly believe—”

  “Well, go update him and see what he says. He wants to talk to you, not me. He made that clear.”

  “But why?” Yanko asked again, though he slung his legs over the side of the bunk.

  “You’re his new hero,” Dak said dryly.

  Yanko snorted, knowing it was a joke, but then he remembered the conversation he’d had with Zirabo. Zirabo had seemed impressed with what he’d done. Yanko feared he wouldn’t be this time.

  It was with great trepidation that he finished the drink, took care of his body’s needs, and shambled to the captain’s cabin. Maybe if he walked slowly enough, someone would step into the passageway and interrupt him. Perhaps Jhali would want her head rub, and he would feel honor bound to do that before reaching out to Zirabo.

  Although… He sniffed his armpit, aware of an aroma following him down the passageway. Drat, it was him. He would have to bathe himself before he rubbed anything for anyone.

  The captain let him into his cabin right away, waved to the communications orb, and stepped out. It seemed that the world wasn’t going to conspire to keep him from Zirabo.

  Yanko settled on the bunk and laid a hand on the orb. Maybe Zirabo would be sleeping. Or busy leading troops.

  No such luck. Wherever he was staying currently, it had a communications orb, for his face popped up right away. His hair was down, so maybe he had been sleeping. Was it nightfall in Nuria? Yanko didn’t even know what time of day it was here.

  He took a deep breath. “Honored Prince. I apologize for being, uhm, unconscious and not available to report to you the events on the new continent right away. Er, how much do you know already?”

  “Good evening, Yanko.” Zirabo didn’t sound irked. That was promising. “I’ve spoken twice to Consul Tynlee, and she told me much.”

  “Ah. Then you know that I made some… promises to some pirates. And technically to some Turgonian soldiers, though the odds of them retiring and leaving their nation to take me up on that are rather low. The pirates, however, number more than I imagined, and honestly, I was just trying to buy time and figure out a way to stop a battle. I know I didn’t have the right to promise them anything, but I was hoping that…” Inspiration splashed him in the face, and before he had time to decide if it was wise or not, he shared it. “You mentioned wanting more troops. With the proper finessing, they might be willing to join our cause and even come to Nuria and fight with the troops you’ve already acquired. Or perhaps they could act as our naval force. Even if they would only be willing to show themselves as part of a bluff. Though who knows what they might be willing to do for pardons and land? They might feel especially loyal to you.”

  Realizing he was speaking rather rapidly, Yanko stopped, though as long as he’d been speaking, Zirabo hadn’t been able to reply…

  “Proper finessing?” Zirabo asked dryly. “Are you trying to do that now to me?”

  “Uh, no, Honored Prince. I don’t think that’s possible through a communications orb. I was just trying to explain myself.”

  “I see. I understand the Turgonians found gold on the new continent?”

  “Oh. Yes.” Yanko had almost forgotten about that. “We acquired some bars that we can bring back in case you need funds.”

  Zirabo shifted his eyebrows upward.

  “I mean, we didn’t steal it from them. I melted some ore from one of the veins in the mountain caves and made a few bars. Assuming Jhali still has them in her pack. I’ve been inconveniently unconscious, so I’m not up on current events.”

  “A sample would be useful in case we need to sway people,” Zirabo said. “Please bring it and yourself to the mainland as quickly as possible. And whatever troops, real or temporary, that you can add.”

  “To the—to Nuria? I promised Dak… well, if we’re going to get all or part of the continent, we’ll need to go to Turgonia—you can send me, but you’d have to give me some kind of diplomatic authority, I guess—to negotiate with their president.”

  “That can wait. I need you here as soon as possible. Things are about to boil over. We may only have a week until the matter is decided one way or another.”

  “Oh,” Yanko mouthed. He didn’t know what else to say. The continent was important, and he didn’t know how long the Turgonians would avoid it, but what was he supposed to do? Argue with a prince? A prince he’d promised to help.

  “I’ll meet you back in Yellow Delta,” Zirabo said, “and we’ll march from there. Bring everyone who will help.”

  “Yes, Honored Prince.”

  The communications orb went dark.

  Yanko pushed himself to his feet and wobbled to the door.

  “Honored Consul?” he called into the passageway.r />
  Tynlee poked her head out. “Yes?”

  “I’m going to need more of those pink drinks. A lot of them. I think I have to go fight a war now.”

  Tynlee looked past him toward the steps leading to the deck. “So we need to go back to Nuria instead of to Kyatt or Turgonia?”

  “For now. He asked us—me—to return to Yellow Delta. Do you mind taking me? I don’t want to presume…” Yanko extended his hand toward her.

  He was relieved she’d been willing to ferry him and Dak around but assumed she had work back at the consulate and that she couldn’t sail the seas forever. A part of him wished he had been able to talk his mother into the job. She likely would have handled the pirates more professionally and without making promises that he doubted he could keep.

  She would have killed them all, Tynlee thought into his mind.

  Well, it would have been professionally done.

  Of that I have no doubt. Tynlee smiled at him. You have a conscience, Yanko. Don’t regret that. You’ll just have to find a way to make good on your promises.

  He blew out a slow breath, then nodded to himself. Yes. If he could help the prince acquire the dais and rule over the country, then Zirabo might be thankful and help him by granting these requests. When he returned, he would do his best to make himself indispensable and to make sure Zirabo’s return to the Great City was triumphant.

  Belatedly, Yanko realized he should have asked Zirabo who he’d decided to back. If he planned to march on the Great City, he had to know by now.

  I’ve informed the captain of our new route. We’ll depart in the morning. Tynlee tilted her head. You may want to inform your new pirate friends so they’re not alarmed when we disappear on them.

  A good idea. Thank you.

  Friends. Hah. He didn’t know any of their names or even their faces. He’d been talking to them in the middle of the night.

  Yanko did his best to wash himself with the yacht’s limited facilities, then headed up to the deck to find that night approached once again. The sun hung low over the horizon, casting its orange light across the water.

  The yacht had moved to the same bay that the Turgonian ships occupied along with the fifteen pirate ships Tynlee had promised. It was crowded. And amazing that all the vessels were sharing the same area without shooting at each other.

  Was he delusional to believe that Nuria, Turgonia, and a bunch of pirates could found this new continent together and live in peace? He was fairly certain Zirabo had wanted it for Nuria, not as part of some joint colonization by numerous nations, but maybe it could present a place where people from different cultures and countries could come together and learn to live in peace.

  “You are naive, Yanko,” he muttered, laughing at himself as he walked to the railing.

  To his surprise, the mage in the orange robe, the only pirate he recognized, stood at the railing of one of their ships and gazed in the yacht’s direction. It wasn’t her previous vessel—the kraken had destroyed that—but a larger craft.

  She seemed as startled to see him as he was to see her. Had she been present that night he’d addressed everybody? Or was she simply there because the rest of her fleet was?

  Greetings, Yanko told her telepathically. Have you received some of our activated charcoal and the drug the Turgonians made? Best to get to business and not ask her if she was bitter that he’d caused her ship to be destroyed.

  She squinted at him, her lips pinched.

  We received them, she replied tersely.

  Good. I’ve been called back to Nuria by Prince Zirabo, but I won’t forget what I promised. In fact, if your people want to come along, we can finalize the divvying up of the land in the new continent as soon as the dais is secured.

  I thought Nuria was still being contested.

  Not for long, Yanko said firmly, hoping he wasn’t lying and hoping Zirabo could somehow come out on top. Once it belongs to our faction, it will be my priority to speak with the Turgonians and create a favorable arrangement for both parties.

  Do you fancy yourself a diplomat now, boy who failed the Stargrind entrance exam? She gazed blandly at him.

  He lifted his chin and kept himself from grimacing, though it was a pain speaking with someone who’d seen him at his worst, when he’d let his pride keep him from succeeding. Why couldn’t she have been one of the prisoners on Seventh Skull Island who considered him heroic simply for killing that soul construct?

  I have grown in power, and I hope maturity, in the last few months. By the way, you never gave me your name.

  I am known only as Xara now. There is little left for me back in Nuria, so my surname no longer matters.

  You could have a new life here. Yanko doubted a trained mage would be susceptible to his feeble mind-manipulation abilities, but he tried to share his idea of what he envisioned the continent would one day be and how he would, if it was at all possible, bring in other earth mages and biologists to help make it a reality.

  She gazed toward the rocky terrain, and he hoped she wasn’t thinking of the lake and the deadly plant. The setting sun warmed the cool gray of the rock and silt, making it seem exotic rather than foreign and hostile. At least to his eyes. And maybe Xara’s? She did seem to be contemplating it with speculation.

  But then she asked in a tone that came across the mental link as acerbic, And all we have to do first is sail to Nuria and help you fight your war?

  She hadn’t missed that. Maybe she was reading his mind, but he didn’t think so. He was more careful to keep his mental barriers up when dealing with enemies and strangers than around Tynlee. Not that it seemed to matter with Tynlee. She was a very subtle and gifted mind mage. She should be the one out here trying to sway pirates.

  It would be useful to have your fleet in the harbor when we march on the Great City, but I already promised your people the land simply for laying down their weapons. I can’t ask for more from you now.

  Except that the odds are poor of us getting that land if you get killed or disappear.

  I won’t disappear. I will do my best to get your people what I promised. Yanko nodded, willing her to believe him.

  It’s a lot for the little that we’ve done.

  This is a new land. There are naturally going to be opportunities for those who come here early.

  And don’t get killed off by plants.

  Yes.

  You could have killed us when you sent the kraken, and you didn’t, Xara said. I will speak with the captains. I am new in the fleet, but as a mage, I have power and some sway.

  Yanko nodded. Thank you.

  He didn’t expect much to come of her conversation with her commanders, but he’d done as Tynlee suggested and let the pirates know he was leaving. If they were willing to follow him to Nuria and pretend to be willing to fight for Zirabo, excellent. If not, he couldn’t pretend to be surprised.

  Yanko sensed a familiar presence approaching and turned as Jhali walked up.

  She nodded to him and picked a spot at the railing. “I am pleased to see you conscious again. And standing.”

  “I’m also pleased by those things.” He smiled at her. “How are you? Did the sickness ever get to you?”

  “Not as severely. Consul Tynlee convinced me to drink her foul beverages, nonetheless.”

  “She’s good at convincing people of things. Though I suppose you can avoid being manipulated by magic.”

  “Usually, yes, but she’s very good. During her casual interrogation back at the consulate, she extracted a few memories I didn’t mean for her to have. And I’ve caught myself agreeing readily with her a number of times when I don’t usually agree with anyone.”

  “Hidden memories, hm? Does that mean she knows more about you than I do?”

  “Probably not. I’ve told you more than I tell most people.”

  “Really? You haven’t told me much. When you do share secrets, you’re very succinct.”

  “I told you about my parents.” Jhali leaned her elbows on the rai
ling and gazed toward the mountains. The rocks were damp from a recent rain, and they gleamed red in the setting sun.

  “You told me their careers and how they died. I don’t know anything about them.”

  “It’s not a subject I like to dwell on.”

  “Something lighter then? What’s your favorite food? Color? Animal? Hobby?”

  She snorted, and he decided to drop it if she didn’t answer. He didn’t want to come across as prying. He was just curious about his new traveling companion, especially since she was the only traveling companion who had kissed him.

  “Blue,” she said.

  “Hm?”

  “My favorite color. Turquoise, actually. There was a shop in Duvorlee, the town nearest where our sect was housed, that sold little bracelets and anklets and necklaces made from silver and turquoise that I always liked. I remember the first time I did a job and was paid. I went and bought one. It was expensive, but it wasn’t like I needed the money for clothing.” She waved at her mage-hunter garb, the only thing he’d ever seen her in.

  “Do you still have it? Is it—or was it—allowed to wear jewelry when you’re working?”

  “It wasn’t allowed, no.” Jhali hesitated, then lifted her shoe to the railing and pushed up her pant leg to reveal a band of turquoise squares chained together with silver.

  “So you’re rebelling?” Yanko grinned at the idea and also found himself noticing the curve of her calf before she lowered her leg and the anklet—and calf—disappeared.

  “Just a little. As for the rest, I never had time for hobbies. We trained or did chores for most of the day when we weren’t on assignments, and when you’re on an assignment, you have to focus all the time.”

  Remembering that he’d been her last assignment made him uncomfortable. “Yes, killing people is time-consuming, I hear.”

  She frowned at him, and he wished he could retract the words. He didn’t want to make her believe that he would always hold that against her or that it had to be a wall between them.

  “You should take up gardening,” he blurted, the first thing that came to mind that might move them on to another topic. “It’s relaxing and you get to see things turn from seeds into big beautiful plants. Have you ever grown sunflowers? They’re taller than your head and magnificent. Just the other day, I was remembering how I planted some in our walkway when I was a boy. At the time, I didn’t quite realize how large they grew. Once they matured, we couldn’t use that walkway until after the seeds were harvested and they died for the year. I was glad Grandmother didn’t make me cut them down prematurely. There was an argument, as I recall, but tears won out.” Er, maybe he shouldn’t admit that he’d wept over plants as a boy. “Gardening lets you create life instead of destroying it.”