by Hylton, PT
Abbey smiled. “Thanks, Dustin.”
He nodded. “You’d better get a good night’s sleep. We leave at sunrise.”
Chapter Eleven
Dustin stood on the deck of The Foggy Day, nervously clutching his staff. The sun was beginning to peek over the buildings of Holdgate to the east of him, and the crew shuffled onto the ship. Though he had met them yesterday, he felt differently about them today. They were his men now, his crew. More than that, they were his responsibility. Without his storm magic, they’d be subject to whatever winds and currents the sea in all her fickle glory deemed to give them.
He stifled a yawn, hiding it with his arm as he pretended to scratch an ear. Despite his warnings to Abbey to get a good night sleep, he’d failed to do just that. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried. He’d gone to bed early—well, floor actually; he’d given Abbey his bed. But the excitement and concerns about what the following day would bring swirled in his head, making sleep impossible. It seemed like he’d only just managed to drift off when he felt Abbey shaking him, telling him it was time to get going.
Even if not for Abbey, he would have wanted to arrive on the ship before the men. Abbey’s presence made it a necessity.
He still thought the plan was insane. There was no way they’d be able to hide her aboard the ship for any significant period of time. But he was willing to try. He had promised himself he’d do anything he could to help her after all.
Captain Roy walked up the gangplank and stumbled onto the ship. His eyes were red and blurry as if maybe he’d spent the previous night at a brothel downing mead instead of at home in bed. Dustin couldn’t help but shake his head. It was no wonder The Foggy Day held so little esteem among the fleet with a captain like this. Roy’s men didn’t even stand at attention or salute as he came aboard. They just shook his hand and clapped him on the back as if he were just another one of the boys.
It was like Captain Tor had said: it would be up to Dustin to bring some much needed glory to The Foggy Day.
After Roy was finished greeting the crew, he shuffled over to Dustin. “Well, my good man, you ready to begin the voyage?”
“I am, captain. I only hope we’re ready to capture our share of the glory when we face the Barskall.”
Roy chuckled. “Spoken like a man who’s never seen a battle.” He took in Dustin’s expression, then said, “No offense. It ain’t like in the stories. You ever meet a Barskall that isn’t drunk on their draught, they are as reasonable as you or me. But once they swig on their seiderdrek, it’s a whole different situation. I once saw a Barskall woman barely as tall as my shoulder rip a man’s arm clean off his body.”
Dustin was taken aback. “Seriously?”
Roy nodded. “Worse, too. Thing’s I rather not mention at the moment, lest I accidentally curse our voyage.”
Great, Dustin thought. He’s superstitious, too.
“Point is, the best thing that could happen on this voyage is we don’t encounter any of those draught-addled bastards. Make no mistake, we’ll fight them if we have to, and we’ll win or die trying. But I ain’t about to go wishing for a battle. And neither should you be.”
Roy clapped him on the back again, then walked away.
The next hour was spent preparing the ship for departure. Dustin did his best to stay out of everyone’s way, but wherever he went, it seemed he was standing exactly where one of the crew needed to go. So he stayed in his place at the prow, waiting for the signal that they were ready to depart.
Even though his position was arguably the most important on the ship, he didn’t have many official duties other than making sure the weather was cooperative. His mentor, Harald, had taught him only the weakest of Storm Callers spent more time than they needed to with the crew. Familiarity would take away the mystique of their station. A good Storm Caller needed to be aloof in his attitude and firm in his orders. Or so Harald always said.
A few crew members came up to say hello, but he brushed them off. He didn’t have time for that now. He needed to concentrate.
These qualities came easily to Dustin. His skills had set him apart from his peers. Not just Abbey, but also the other Storm Caller apprentices. His experience at the Testing had shaken his confidence a little, but it was time to get it back. It was time to be the Storm Caller Harald had trained him to be.
Roy cupped his hand to his mouth and called across the deck. “Syd, we ready?”
Syd was the first mate of The Foggy Day. She stood over six feet tall, just a bit taller than Dustin. Her head was shaved, and she wore two broadswords on her back. As much as Dustin intended to be firm with the crew, he’d think twice before crossing her.
Syd looked around the deck, giving it one last check before answering. “We’re ready, captain.”
Roy nodded, then turned to Dustin. “Storm Caller, please bring the winds.”
Dustin took a deep breath and stepped to his place at the bow of the ship. A small iron cup was set into the deck. It was just wider than his staff, and it was filled with seawater. He took his staff in both hands and placed it in the iron cup.
He closed his eyes and focused. The noise of the crew and the city behind him fell away. After a moment of concentration, all he heard were the waves slapping gently against the ship. Nothing existed except for him and the sea.
He emptied himself of everything but a small, tiny ball of grim determination in his belly. The sea needed to be approached gently, but it also needed to know you wouldn’t submit to its will. It needed to know you were worthy of its respect before it lent you its power.
Dustin knew he was worthy. Any doubts he’d had after the Testing were gone. He let the power of the sea flow into him, and then he grabbed it with a mighty grip. Now that he had it, he would not let go.
He began to shape the power.
A sudden stiff wind pressed against his back, and The Foggy Day glided forward, away from Holdgate and toward the north.
* * *
Abbey paced back and forth in Dustin’s quarters, wanting nothing more than to be on the deck in the open air. The pacing didn’t take long as two steps took her from one bulkhead to the other. She knew they were underway by the motion of the ship, but there were no portholes for her to see through. It was beginning to sink in that she’d be spending the next two days down here. She wouldn’t see daylight again until they reached the city of Bode where the Barskall were rumored to have invaded.
And what then? She’d have to go ashore with the Holdgate fighters and try to figure out who was secretly slipping away to conspire with the enemy. It would be no easy task, especially with four ships. The Foggy Day was the smallest of them by far, with only fifty crew members. The other three were a larger class. Each sported close to one hundred crew. So, how was one person supposed to watch all those people and find the one traitor amongst them?
She didn’t know, but she vowed she’d accomplish her goal. Nothing would stop her from finding the real murderer and clearing her father’s name.
She was wearing a warrior’s leather shirt so she’d be able to blend in better when she went ashore with the warriors. She’d had to go back to her father’s shop to get it, a risky move, but a necessary one. She looked like any other Holdgate warrior in this outfit.
The door of the quarters opened just wide enough for a person to slip through, and Dustin rushed inside, then quickly closed the door behind him.
“Oh, thank the sea,” she said.
Dustin spoke in a harsh whisper. “Would you keep your voice down, please?”
“Like anyone can hear me over the noise of the water hitting the ship. I didn’t expect it to be so loud.”
“I’m sure there are plenty of things you didn’t expect. Just be glad I’m a Storm Caller. Only me and the captain have private quarters. If I were crew, you’d have to hide down in cargo.”
Abbey sighed. “I’ve been going nuts down here by myself.”
“Seriously? It’s only been three hours.”
&nb
sp; Abbey’s eyes went wide. “I thought it had been at least six.”
Dustin raised an eyebrow.
“What can I say? I’m an outdoor kind of girl.” She cleared her throat, wanting to change the subject. “Your virgin Storm Calling went well?”
Dustin smiled. “You know it. We’re cruising at a faster than expected clip. Not as fast as Thunderclap, but faster than the other two.”
“Uh huh. Let me ask you something. We’ve got four Storm Callers conjuring wind in the direction we need to go, right?”
Dustin’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. So what?”
“I’m just wondering how you know it’s your wind that’s driving us forward and not wind from one of the others.”
His face reddened. “I know my own wind.”
Abbey was starting to enjoy this. “So, there’s no combining of the efforts? It’s a different wind in each ship’s sail.”
“No, of course not. And yes, our efforts do combine to build a stronger wind.”
“Uh huh. So, how do you know you’re even contributing to the cause? What if it’s Dahlia’s wind that we’re using?”
Dustin stammered for a moment before answering. “It’s impossible to explain it to someone who doesn’t use storm magic. I just know, okay?”
Abbey couldn’t hold it in any longer; she broke out in a laugh. “Relax, man, I’m just giving you shit. I’m sure your wind is mighty.”
“It is.” There was still a little anger in his voice. “It’s very mighty.”
That made her laugh even harder.
Someone knocked on the door to the cabin, and Abbey immediately stopped laughing.
Dustin whispered through gritted teeth. “Nice going!”
Abbey looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to hide in this tiny cabin. The only features were the bunk attached to the wall, a small writing desk, and Dustin’s trunk. The bundle of Abbey’s spare clothes sat conspicuously in the corner, her sword lying on top of it.
She silently cursed herself for not better preparing for the possibility of a guest. Dustin had told her no one could come into his quarters without his permission, but that didn’t mean someone couldn’t come knocking.
She stepped next to the door and pressed herself against the bulkhead. Then she nodded at Dustin.
He cleared his throat, then spoke. “Who’s there?”
Captain Roy’s distinctive voice came through the door. “Young Master Storm Caller. I was wondering if I might have a word with you and your lady friend.”
Chapter Twelve
“The first thing you two need to learn is there are no secrets on a ship.”
They were still in Dustin’s cabin, but now there were three of them jammed in there. Captain Roy sat at the writing desk, a sly smile on his face.
“Apparently not,” Abbey said. “You figured us out in three hours.”
The captain chuckled. “Actually, I figured it out thirty minutes after we left port. I briefly considered confronting Dustin then, having him take us back to Holdgate to drop you off.”
“Why didn’t you?” Dustin asked.
“Two reasons. Firstly, I’m not your boss. You’re the Storm Caller. Technically, I can’t order you to do anything.”
Abbey had never much liked Storm Captains. The ones she’d dealt with in her father’s shop were arrogant and demanding, always wanting more equipment for less iron in an unreasonable amount of time. They drove the Holdgate economy, and they knew it. In Abbey’s experience, they weren’t above exploiting their position to demand unreasonable prices from blacksmiths.
But this Captain Roy seemed different. He had an air of authority about him, but none of the arrogance. Abbey was surprised to find she instantly liked this man. “What’s the other reason?”
Roy sighed. “The Foggy Day doesn’t exactly have the best reputation.” He glanced at Dustin. “What had you heard about it before you were assigned?”
Dustin paused a moment before answering, as if he were deciding how honest he should be. “In truth, I hadn’t heard anything. I didn’t even know the ship existed.”
Roy shook his head. “Ouch. I can’t say I’m surprised, though. We haven’t gotten many opportunities to prove ourselves, and we haven’t exactly made the most of the ones we have been given. Point is, our reputation isn’t exactly shining, especially among Captain Tor and his buddies. If we’d turned back to drop-off a stowaway, it would have just confirmed their preconceived notions about us. It’s not that I care what the bastards think exactly. This crew is the best in the fleet, no matter what anyone says. I honestly believe that. It’s just…”
“I get it.” Abbey recognized the look on the captain’s face. She’d seen it in the mirror often enough, usually after a long day of customers telling her how she didn’t understand Holdgate because she was an outsider. “It gets old having people look down on you all the time, even if you don’t care about their opinions.”
Roy nodded slowly. “Exactly that.” He pointed at Dustin, then at Abbey. “So, what is this? Couldn’t bear to leave your girlfriend back in Holdgate, Dustin?”
Abbey let out a sharp laugh. “He wishes.”
Dustin answered in a choked voice. “It’s not like that. At all. This is Abbey. She’s the blacksmith’s daughter.”
Roy’s face darkened. “The Arcadian.”
She frowned at the captain. “I grew up in Holdgate, but sure.”
“I meant no offense.” He scratched at his whiskers for a moment. “So, not only do we have a stowaway, but we have a fugitive stowaway.”
Abbey looked away. Apparently, he’d heard about Bronson and her father’s arrest. “Those charges are false. I’m innocent.”
“And yet you ran.” Roy’s voice was hard now. “You boarded my ship without asking me and brought your troubles with you.”
Dustin stepped forward. “She had permission. From me.”
“That permission isn’t yours to give. I said before I’m not your boss, and that’s true. But you’re not mine, either. The ship and the crew are my responsibility. The sea and the wind are yours. That means you have no say over who comes aboard.” He turned to Abbey. “So, what do we do with you? Perhaps we should throw you overboard. If you’re as innocent as you say, the sea might have mercy and carry you safely back to shore.”
“You can’t do that,” Dustin said.
“I can.” Roy’s voice was a low growl now. “I’d be well within my rights.”
Abbey glanced at her sword. It was on the other side of the room, only two steps away, but Dustin and the captain were both positioned between her and the weapon. If it came to a fight, it would have to be unarmed.
“Many Storm Captains would do just that,” Roy continued. “They’d wash their hands of you and let the sea decide your fate. I’m not going to do that, though.” He narrowed his eyes and looked Abbey up and down. “Tell me why you wanted to come north. I would have thought you’d run south to the safety of your people.”
Abbey considered how to proceed. For all she knew, this man was the Barskall agent. She didn’t think so, though. For one thing, this ship had been assigned to accompany the other three at the last minute, and from what Dustin had told her The Foggy Day’s trips to Barskall territory were infrequent. That led her to believe the agent would be aboard one of the other three ships. Secondly, Roy didn’t feel right as the agent. She trusted her instincts, and her instincts said this man would not betray Holdgate.
She took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m not heading north to escape; I’m going to find a criminal.”
Roy was clearly surprised by the answer. “Is that so?” There was a bit of skepticism in his voice.
“It is. I have reason to believe that the man who killed the Magistrate’s son was working with the Barskall to frame my father.”
“And why would the Barskall care about a blacksmith in Holdgate?”
“Because he was on to them. He knew something was wrong in Holdgate. That someone was working against
the stormships from the inside.”
Roy leaned forward, the skepticism gone from his face. “Where’d you get that information?”
“Jarvi. You know him?”
Roy nodded. “I’ve worked the trade routes for twenty years, girl. Of course, I know him. If he says there’s a traitor working with the Barskall, I’m apt to believe it. I’ve had my own suspicions. Nothing concrete, just a general lack of effectiveness among some of the ships lately. More Barskall are getting through to the Kaldfell peninsula.”
Dustin looked at the captain. “So, what do we do?”
It was almost a minute before Roy answered. “We let Abbey complete her mission.” He turned to Abbey. “But no one gets a free ride on my ship. You want passage; you have to work. I’ll put you on the crew. In return, you’ll get a cot of your own, food in your belly, and fifty iron when we make it back to Holdgate. Sound reasonable?”
Abbey nodded. In truth, it sounded a hell of a lot better than being stuck in this cabin for two more days.
“Good. And if there’s anything I can do to help you in your search, you let me know.” He put his hands on his knees and pushed himself to a standing position. “Now, let’s go introduce you to the crew.”
* * *
The next two days went by in a whirlwind of activity. Abbey joined the crew of The Foggy Day and began learning how to work on a ship. Syd, the bald first mate, oversaw her training, carefully inspecting every task she performed to make sure it was up to snuff.
The captain hadn’t introduced Abbey as a stowaway; he’d simply said she was a new crew member. But they weren’t stupid. They understood what it meant when the captain brought someone from below deck mid-voyage and put them to work. It meant he’d had mercy on them rather than tossing them overboard.
They’d all likely heard about the murder of the Magistrate’s son and the blacksmith and his daughter who may have been behind it. To their credit, the crew treated her as one of their own, right from the start, and no one mentioned the dubious circumstances under which she’d come aboard.
