by Rosie Scott
“Eustace?” I asked, unfamiliar with the name.
“He is the god of productivity and childbearing,” Hassan explained. “My mother attributed my birth to him.”
“What did you attribute it to?” I asked, sensing his doubt.
Hassan chuckled lightly. “The viability and superiority of Alderi semen.”
As I laughed, Koby jested, “Thank you for reminding me to stock up on enfant rout while we're here.”
“What's that?” Hassan asked.
“The main ingredient for the potions Cal and I take to prevent miracles like you,” Koby replied with a grin.
Hassan laughed so hard at that he had to stop and regather himself as the line backed up behind him. “There are only two types of children,” he finally mused lightheartedly, hoisting the wagon handles again. “Miracles and mistakes. Lucky me, I was both.”
“I thought you were a miracle,” Koby said with a smirk.
“To my mother, yes. But don't forget, my father was Alderi like you bastards.” Hassan raised his eyebrows and glanced pointedly at me, Koby, and Jaecar. “He cared nothing for my mother.”
“Did he care for you?” Koby asked, genuinely curious.
Hassan laughed shortly, humorlessly. “No. I wish he had. I never met him personally, but my mother told me when I was old enough to hear it that he stopped by Jaalam a second time when I was ten or so. She told him about me. He thought it was her way of asking him for gold, so he left quickly and she never saw him again. I didn't meet a full-blooded Alderi until I joined Patrick's crew. For all I know, I could've passed by my father throughout the years and I wouldn't know it.” He was quiet for a moment, lost in introspection. “It made my mother really bitter. She talked negatively about men with little provocation. When I started chasing girls, she kicked me out of the house because she said I was turning into my father.”
“But you visited her just ten years ago,” I pointed out. “Why would you ever visit her after she insulted and rejected you?”
Hassan glanced up at me with a conflicted expression. “Because she was my mother, and I loved her.”
“She treated you poorly,” I argued.
“I thought she might change,” Hassan reasoned. “She didn't.”
“The other races act like the Alderi are heartless, yet the ones who love the most hurt the most,” I muttered, irritated by it.
“Is it better to never love and never care, or to love and care too much?” Koby asked aloud to no one in particular.
“Neither choice is ideal,” Hassan replied.
“There are shades of gray,” Jaecar pointed out. “I've never loved anyone, but I care a lot about my friends. Learn to care without becoming attached, and you can be happy.”
At last, we broke out of the shadows of the palms and onto the open western beach. Ajax's men were unloading his cog directly on the sands far to our left, taking advantage of its flat-bottom. The Cunning Linguist swayed lightly on the ocean ahead, anchored to shallow but maneuverable waters. The mercenaries Koby tasked to guard it perked up at our arrival and started preparing the rowboats for transport. As soon as we moved this cargo to the deck, we'd have to go through the long process of unloading our stores one boat at a time. Considering the number of boats and wagons at our disposal, we likely wouldn't get to leave Killick for a fortnight.
With only one usable arm, that left me with all the time in the world to ponder.
Twenty-four
The Cunning Linguist set sail from Killick's western shores on the 1st of High Star, and our pace was brisk. Hauling cargo across an island had taken a fortnight and tired our men, but until Killick established accommodations on the western coast, we had no other options. Gratefully, our visit also rejuvenated us after so long of hang-ups and calamities. We managed to sell enough ferris in Killick itself to pay Rik in full for our return shipment of goods and have just a bit left over. We paid our men, but not nearly enough. When we returned to Silvi and sold our goods, however, the profits were ours to keep. Upon our future return to Killick, we expected Rik would have the profits from the goods we'd just delivered, minus his cut. So while we started this partnership in the hole, I prayed the future profits would make up for the rough start.
Koby worked out the estimated timing of Cale's arrival in the Forks, if that indeed was the pirate captain's plan. If Cale gathered reinforcements from the seas near our battle weeks before and sailed directly to Silvi, we were in trouble because he would get there a fortnight ahead of us. However, he and his pirate lackeys would contend with the mercenary ships still docked there and trading between the wildlands and Eteri or Chairel. The locals knew all too well to look out for black sails; surely Cale had seen the warnings to mercenaries when he went through Silvi on foot last year, and he was intelligent enough to know that stealing a ship from the city's harbor would put them on high alert. Thus, it was unlikely that Cale would sail directly to Silvi to cut through to the Forks; he'd already taken advantage of its most desperate mercenaries, and now it posed too much of a risk.
It was also unlikely that Cale would sail immediately from the scene of our battle to the Forks using the same southern route he'd taken after sinking the Wobblin' Woody. Koby figured out that the trip would take the majority of a year. Cale had probably used it to track down the ferris paddies and survey the land two years ago, but now that the pirates had established the route between the Forks and Llyr, it was the safest and most direct.
Koby and I discussed this and many other things one night as we stood at the wheel. With my left arm in a sling for another week, we were inseparable; after all, I still chain-smoked, and he hovered by my side to light my cigarettes. I didn't mind it, of course. My mind was so cluttered and overwhelmed with the events of the last few weeks that his warmth, patience, and thoughtfulness were more than welcome. He was always so calming to me that I wondered how other mentally disturbed beastmen and ex-slaves could cope without a similarly attentive friend. Considering the high suicide and rempka overdose rates in Silvi, perhaps they didn't cope at all.
It was a beautiful night. Meir's four week trek was nearly complete; just its top curve was visible on the dark horizon now, its creamy glow giving the ocean a long, wistful goodbye. Oftentimes when visible, Meir's brightness was so magnificent that the stars paled. Now that the moon retreated, the stars claimed victory over the night skies with pulsating glows. As I smoked, Koby tried and failed to teach me the constellations.
“Do you see that star?” Koby asked, pointing up and to the left.
“I see thousands of stars, so unless you can call its name and get it to twinkle, I'm gonna have to say no,” I replied dryly, my eyes scanning the endless skies.
Koby hesitated. “All right, so there are lots of stars, but some should seem brighter to you. Can you tell, or are your eyes unable to differentiate between the two?”
I huffed. “Just because you have better eyes than me doesn't mean I'm blind.”
Koby chuckled softly. “I know. I've just never had your eyes, so I don't know what you see.”
“I can differentiate between levels of brightness,” I informed him, still staring at the skies. “I see a couple of brighter stars.”
“Where?”
I pointed to the southwest and wiggled my finger around to encompass all of them.
“All right!” Koby exclaimed, far more excited for this tiny victory than he should have been. “Now—consider all those bright stars together. Like they're all part of the same picture. Like you could draw lines between them.”
I frowned with confusion, but I tried to follow his directions.
Koby leaned closer to me, a book of the stars open on his forearms. He tapped a finger on the left page which showed an artistic rendition of an archer made of lines and large dots. “Does your mental image look anything like this?”
I stared at the art before looking back to the skies. After a few glances back and forth, I replied, “No.”
Koby sighed with
frustration. “Why?”
“Probably because I'm missing stars. Where the hell is this one?” I pointed at the star that indicated the top of the archer's bow. “From my perspective, this man is missing his bow and half a leg.”
Koby snorted in humor, though he explained, “Those stars are there, Cal. They're just a little less bright.”
“Then why include them in the picture?” In a mocking tone, I continued, “What kind of idiot thought, 'Oo, I know what I can do for a living. Look at the stars and paint a pretty picture!'”
Koby laughed. “It's a science, Cal.”
“It's bullshit.”
“Is it?” he asked rhetorically. “Thanks to the Archer constellation there, I can navigate us safely to Silvi even when there's nothing but ocean surrounding us.”
“How?”
“Because of its placement in the skies,” Koby answered, “and because I know what times of years it is visible.”
“But if we keep sailing, the image will change,” I protested. “The Archer will become something else because of a change in angle and perspective. Why memorize all that?”
Koby grinned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your ignorance of simple concepts is endearing.”
“Oh, fuck off,” I muttered, though self-doubt rose to precedence. I didn't understand what was so simple about all this. “It's a valid question. How is it ignorant?”
Koby sobered and explained, “As I've told you before, you could sail forever and the perspective wouldn't change. The stars are too far away for our pathetic travel attempts on the surface to affect their appearance.”
“Then why do the constellations change and move?”
“Because the planet moves, so it looks like the sky does.”
I wrinkled my nose and took a drag of my cigarette. “I miss the days when we thought the stars were mushrooms on the surface's ceiling. This is all too complicated.”
Koby laughed softly, though he argued, “I'd rather them be complicated than simple. Back then, we were used to being so contained that we couldn't imagine anything else. Wouldn't you rather have the vastness and complexity of freedom?”
“Of course,” I agreed, blowing smoke out into the quiet air. “But I don't want to be expected to know everything about the skies. They're just stars to me.”
“You should know things like this, Cal,” Koby protested gently. “What happens when I die and you can't navigate on your own? You're going to—”
“You're not going to die, so you can drop that idea right off where you got it.” I took a long drag to calm the panic that threatened to collapse my heart at the idea.
“Of course I'm going to die,” Koby argued lightly. “Everyone does. You need to be prepared in case I go first.”
“You're almost ninety years younger than me,” I replied, the tightness of my throat affecting the tone of my voice. “And you don't make stupid decisions. I do. If anyone is going to die first, it'll be me.”
“No matter how well you think you have things figured out, things like that can't be planned. That's not the way life works and you know it.”
I said nothing. I didn't want to think about this.
“Kali certainly didn't expect to die on the seas,” Koby continued, “or else she may have decided to stay with Jayce.”
I could not even begin to imagine what Jayce's reaction would be to our tragic news. Keeping the butt of my cigarette between my lips, I grabbed a new one out of my pocket. After lighting it with the old one, I switched them and threw the butt over the taffrail, watching the glowing ashes snuff out upon hitting the seas.
“Kali's death made me start thinking about inevitabilities,” Koby went on behind me as I stared at the water as we passed. “We're in deep, Cal. I'm in this for the long haul. Fighting Cale's men, eventually taking on Vruyk and the rest of the gang, summoning the leviathan...all of it. I'll be there for as long as I can be. But if something happens to me—”
“Stop, Koby,” I warned.
“No,” he retorted, firm rather than angry. “This is important to me, so you need to listen. I want to give you my last wishes because you're the only one I trust with them.”
I took a few measured breaths and turned to face him. The defiance in his expression relaxed when he realized he had my undivided attention.
“Bury me at sea,” Koby requested, nodding toward the expansive open ocean. “Whether or not I die on the ocean, I want to forever be a part of it. This is freedom. I want to be as free in death as I managed to obtain in life.”
I tried to imagine a time when that would come to pass. My eyes heated with emotion I fought hard not to reveal. Koby often praised me for my strength, but if he died before me, I didn't think I would have the strength to let him go. Suddenly, I understood Hassan's attachment to Kali's belongings. When the ones we care for most are lost, their belongings are all that remains. Koby's bronze cell door key glimmered in the starlight while hanging from its silver chain, pulling my attention down from his gaze. I hated that gods damn necklace. I hated it and how often it reminded me of our shameful past. But if that was all I had left of him, I could imagine protecting it with my life.
“Did you hear me?” Koby asked.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah. I think—I think I'd want the same.”
Koby nodded. “And if that time ever does come to pass, Cal, just keep living, all right? Find a purpose. See it through to the end. Find good people who support you.”
“I'll heed your request, but it's unnecessary,” I said, Koby's earlier defiance now affecting me. “I'll protect you with my life whether you like it or not.”
Koby chuckled, dissipating some tension between us. “Yes, I know. That's part of the reason I brought this up. Sometimes when you're in battle, you're so unpredictable it scares me. I'm a little worried, admittedly, about getting to the Forks. We don't know if Vallen and his men made it through that last battle. If we get there and they're dead, the pirates have retaken the new paddies, and Cale shows up later, they will heavily outnumber us and our chances will be low. We have to consider that we will not win this, no matter our intentions and our planning.”
I slowly walked back over to the wheel to be beside him again. “What do you suggest we do to prepare?”
“Even if we lose, we should go out fighting,” Koby said with no doubt. “But I think we should hire more mercenaries in Silvi to come with us to the Forks. While the crew is unloading and delivering cargo, we should also keep our eye out for any news from Vallen and Jayce. They were sending out messengers when we left for volunteers. If they won the battle, it's possible those in Silvi would know. Vallen might have sent updates or even more requests for support.”
“Hell, Jeremoth might know,” I said. “Everyone and their mother knows him.”
Koby jested, “After Vallen's awful experience drinking his ale, Jeremoth's face is etched in his mind forever.”
“Laughing,” I added with a smirk. “Mocking.”
Koby chuckled. “We need to stop and see Jeremoth again, anyway. Invite Devlyn along. Rik already has their information so we need to make sure they know that.”
“This is true.” I blew out a stream of smoke. “How long do you think we can spend in Silvi while still being able to beat Cale to the Forks?”
“Eh...not long, especially if he took the direct route there after passing Llyr,” Koby replied. “But I don't think that's what he did. Cale's proven to be smarter and more prepared than that.”
“I thought you said that was the most likely scenario,” I argued lightly.
“What?”
“You said he'd probably travel east from Llyr, south of the beastlands, and directly to the Forks because it'd be faster than sailing around the wildlands like the last trip.”
“Right, and I still think that's the way he's going. But I don't think he passed Llyr. I think he stopped there. Think about it, Cal. When he was in the wildlands last, he hired a bunch of mercenaries in Silvi, many of whom were be
astmen. Then he comes across us on the seas, where you brag about destroying the operation all those mercenaries were protecting.”
“You keep bringing that up just to rub my nose in it.”
He laughed. “No, I bring it up to make a point. Had it just been us and our crew in that battle in the Forks, I hate to say it, but we might not have won it. Cale knows that. Since we survived, he probably knows we had allies fighting alongside us. If that's true, he knows we have the connections to get more. He left you in the seas to escape the leviathan, but he's seen you sail across half the world for revenge and come back from the dead, so...” Koby trailed off with a smirk. “He'll prepare for war.”
“Fighting fire with fire,” I mused.
“Exactly. He'll bring more men, maybe exchange ships. A schooner's quick but it can't carry nearly as many people as a galleon.”
“He might bring more ships, too.”
“Oh, yeah,” Koby agreed. “He's got the men for it. I was thinking he might even get picky about the men he brings with him. Beastmen are best against beastmen, and since we beat his men in the Forks he knows we had a lot of them with us. Maybe he'll try to match it.”
“How many beastmen could they possibly have?” I pondered. “When we fought Astred's group, Cale and Vruyk were the only shapeshifters there.”
“Are you sure?” Koby prodded. “There wasn't enough room in that warehouse for many to transform and fight. Cale didn't even transform. You were the only one who did on our side, and when you and Vruyk fought it was a chaotic mess with a lot of collateral damage because you two took up so much space.”
“There weren't many pirate beastmen in our last battle,” I argued lightly. “Only Cale.”
“There were plenty who transformed on the galleons and just didn't get to fight before the leviathan made its appearance,” Koby informed me. “You only saw Cale because you zoned in on him.”
