by Sam Farren
Port Mahon had been hit by worse and would survive to see attacks more coordinated than this one, but it was easy to be swept up in the moment, as the other pirates were. Our cannons sounded from the look-out towers at each end of the docks, hitting Gavern's ship as hard as it had hit us, and though I saw more wreckage and rubble than spreading frames, it was almost impossible to not be dragged back into the past, deeper and deeper.
“Rowan!” Katja said, tugging me from the spot when I'd come to an abrupt halt. “Rowan, move. We have to help these people.”
The injuries were wide-spread, but far from grave. Part of the dock had been smashed wide open, splintering a tower of crates along with it, and the woman who kept a record of all the ships that came in and out of Mahon had her legs trapped under a chunk of debris that took five of us to lift. Katja knelt by her side, eyes closing as she helped ease the woman's shattered bones back into place, not staying for a second longer than it took to accept her thanks.
A handful of others were tending to gashes and broken bones, and they hobbled over as another cannonball flew overhead, striking the centre of town.
“Quickly,” I said, hooking my arm around Katja's the moment she was done healing those around her, eyes already darkening, and we set off through the streets, heads bowed low.
The pirates were out in their masses, roaring for more of a fight than they were being given. I heard one of our cannonballs punch through the side of Gavern's ship, but we'd already turned too many corners for me to see the ocean. At some point, Katja had taken the lead, taking me the long way around to whatever buildings had been reduced to rubble.
“Listen to me,” Katja said, stopping before she ought to have, hands on my shoulders. “You have to help me, Rowan. There are too many injured for me alone to handle, not without leaving them in pain. You have to do this.”
“Katja...” I said, trying to shrug her hands off, but her grasp was tight. “You're leaving them in pain now. Come on! Stop messing around.”
“Messing around?” The pitch of her voice rose and my stomach turned. “You can do this, Rowan. You can help them. Please.”
I tried to say something more, but her inky black eyes fixed on mine, rendering me speechless. That old, familiar sickness rose up within me and I realised she was doing it on purpose. Of course she was. And after all that I'd just said to her, after I wanted her to be the friend I'd first made so very much again. Why was she wasting time? Why did she care more about pushing me than rushing to help the others?
“... no,” I managed, pushing her arms away. She stepped forward as I took a step back, not about to let me leave, so I gripped the sides of her arms as tightly as I could and said, “No, Katja. I can't. I can't help them, can't help anyone. Just heal them, alright? No one's dead. I'll go—go help clear up. The ship's probably gone now, and... and you can handle this. I know you can.”
I'd started strong, voice raised to something that barely fell short of a shout, but it'd taken me mere seconds to feel my mouth turn dry. Katja didn't flinch. I hadn't frightened her, hadn't shocked her; there was nothing but disappointment in her expression, in the way she pried my fingers from her arms.
“You could be so much more, Rowan,” was all that she said, leaving me behind as she moved to help those I wouldn't.
The uproar from the docks told me that Gavern's ship had been bested. It was over as quickly as it had started. It was a warning, nothing more. I supposed we ought to have been grateful that Gavern wanted to rule Port Mahon, not destroy it.
Head spinning, I wandered towards what felt like the direction of the docks. I shouldn't have been so hard on Katja. She was taking on a lot by herself, and I hadn't been able to prove myself when she'd needed me. I'd apologise later. I'd tell her that she couldn't talk to me like that, couldn't force my powers out of me, but I'd apologise. We'd all let spite get the better of us at one point or another, and I wasn't about to forget the kindness I knew because of it.
Not a single soul remained inside. Pirates flooded the streets to assess the damage, and I went with the motion of the crowd, knocking into one person and then the next. I'd long since learnt not to apologise for bumping shoulders, but I stepped on someone's foot and they grabbed me by the shoulders.
I looked up, expecting to be issued a threat and warning all at once, but found a familiar face looking down at me.
“Atthis!” I said, pulling him into a quick hug. “You're alright! That last cannonball didn't hit too close to your place, did it?”
“It was a few streets off,” he said, placing a hand on my back and guiding me through the crowd. “Gods. Can't we go a day without some sort of ruckus? Either we're cutting off extremities or the sky's falling down on us.”
“Heading down to complain to Reis?” I asked.
Atthis laughed dryly and said, “Not in a thousand years. They scare me as much as I used to scare you.”
While Atthis tended to keep to himself and often left Mahon for weeks at a time as Kouris did, he always seemed to appear exactly when I needed him to. Without the crown resting heavy on his head, I found that he reminded me of my father, in quiet, unremarkable ways, and I calmed myself by measures as we headed down to the docks together.
The people around us huffed in disappointment as they sheathed their weapons, and once the streets widened and the dock was in sight, I looked back on Mahon and realised that the damage wasn't as bad as I'd imagined it to be. Not that the same could be said for Gavern's ship, or what remained of it: only the top half of the mast was above water, and the ships we'd sent out to attack it head-on seemed unscathed.
Reis was barking out orders across the dock and people were already starting to move the debris, dragging pieces of shattered walls and paths onto the beach. The work was made faster with Kouris' help, and I pushed through the crowds, wanting to hear what Reis had to say.
“A skeleton crew!” Tae scoffed, kicking the uneven edge of the path and wincing at the pain shooting through her toes. “What the fuck kind of insult is that? He sends a fancy goddamn ship out, and he don't put more than a dozen people on it!”
“Calm down,” Reis said, clouting her around the back of the head.
“Calm down? I was ready for a fight! I was ready to show that lot what's what, ready to make 'em really sorry for ever even thinking about coming near Mahon, and the bastard doesn't even send enough people for us all to have someone to stick a sword through,” Tae said, drawing her sword and throwing it on the ground. “And here was me thinking he called himself a pirate!”
Reis leant heavily on their cane as they watched Tae's dramatics, and the onlookers raised their brows, judging Tae to be as brave as she was stupid.
“Shut it, would you. Gavern's sending that ship to show off, to let us know that he's got a dozen more like it, all of 'em disposable, all of 'em with the same sort of firepower,” Reis said, “Take a look at what one ship's managed to do. Aye, no one's dead, but this is gonna take a while to repair, and we ain't going to be sending the Queen as much as I'd like this week. How does that make me look? How does that make Mahon look? You want people thinking we can't hold our own?
“I woulda said no, but it seems to me like you don't give a toss. Stop acting like a child, Tae. So you didn't get to stab anyone. You didn't have to throw any of our own into the sea, either. Didn't have to watch any of our ships sink.”
Tae opened her mouth to respond, and wisely snapped it back shut.
Bowing her head, she scurried off backwards, blindly helping with the clear-up, and for a moment, no one who'd brought news to Reis dared to speak.
“Well?” Reis asked, eyes scanning across the group surrounding them.
“Ah, Captain. Looks like we ain't lost too much within the town itself. One of the inns took a beating, but it's nothing we can't patch up,” someone called out.
Reis nodded, glanced out at the horizon and said, “If you need help moving anything, go find Kouris. The rest of you, get on your ships, sail out, and m
ake damn sure that was the only ship the bastard sent.”
The crowd dispersed, and Reis stared out at the spot Gavern's ship had once been, taking deep breaths. Turning in order to head back to the hut, where they could better issue orders and plan ahead, Reis caught sight of Atthis and myself. They tilted their head towards us and said, “Oi, Atthis. You've got a good head on your shoulders. Fancy talking strategy? It's about time we struck first.”
“I can't promise that I'll come up with anything so refined as dismemberment, but I'll do what I can,” Atthis said, falling in step next to them.
None of us slept through the afternoon. The rumble in Port Mahon was loud enough to reach us, and I busied myself with making food and serving drinks as Atthis and Reis pored over maps of the land and sea alike, moving shells across them as though the pieces provided possible answers. The moment some semblance of a plan was drawn together, they immediately dismissed it, declaring it wouldn't work, and the fact that they were narrowing it down was of no comfort to them.
It was dark by the time Kouris returned, and Reis and Atthis had accepted that taking a break wasn't the same as giving up. Katja was with her, and I did my best to avoid her gaze, but she headed over to me before I could take refuge in my room.
“I'm sorry, Rowan. I truly am. I shouldn't have surprised you like that, to have demanded so much of you. You were right. Nobody was dead. I was able to heal them all,” she said in a whisper, shoulder pressed to mine as I focused on scrubbing the dishes clean. “But it's only going to get worse, isn't it? You need to accept that day will come when I cannot help, Rowan, and their fates will be on your shoulders. I do so hope you make the right choice, dear.”
CHAPTER III
In the weeks that followed, we were subjected to more rumours about Gavern's whereabouts than usual, though we heard nothing from the man himself. Crews set out in search of his fleet, but I didn't go with them, knowing they'd return empty-handed. I helped rebuild the patch-work town, went fishing when boredom threatened to consume me, and slept away the days when boredom was hardly the worst of it.
I helped Reis with the accounts in the morning – it turned out that I wasn't terrible at holding numbers in my head, once they'd taught me how to properly add and subtract and multiply – and once the heat rose along with the humidity, I let the day defeat me. The air was damp, almost enough so to swim through, and I fell down on my bed, thinking how absurd it was that I'd once bundled blankets atop myself and still shivered.
The sound of guests getting comfortable around the table woke me while the sun was still high, and I rolled onto my side. I meant to fall back asleep, until I heard their voices.
Grinning, I snapped the rest of the way awake and lugged myself into the living area.
Reis' parents visited Port Mahon every third month like clockwork, and each time, Reis acted as though they'd been blind-sided, caught entirely off-guard.
Rebecca and Ben Jones were respected pirates in their own right. They'd once claimed ownership of a port twice the size of Mahon a dozen miles along the coast, but after more than thirty years in Canth, they'd set aside business in favour of travel.
“I'm only saying, you've gotta think these things through, honey,” Reis' mother lectured from across the table, as Reis laid with their head in their arms. She was of Myrosi descent, as I was, covered from head to toe in tattoos, and wore her hair longer than Kouris'. “Once you catch the bastard, how are you going to make an example of him? Hanging, beheading? Both fine choices, but they don't do much to prolong the point you're trying to make.”
“Ma,” Reis protested, red hair falling across their face as they sat up straight.
“Your mother's right! This is worth thinking about, kid. Excellent work on the hands, though. Heard all about that half a dozen ports off,” Reis' father chimed in from the sofa. “Ah! Rowan. Good afternoon. We were just talking to Reis about the importance of planning ahead.”
I waved at them both, and propped myself on the arm of the sofa. Ben was a little older than Atthis, but certainly didn't look it; he was a wide, well-built man, dark skin covered in the tattoos his wife didn't have space for.
“Don't talk to her,” Reis grumbled, “She's a nice kid.”
“No one in Mahon is nice, honey. That's why we keep coming back,” Rebecca pointed out. “We're only looking out for your reputation.”
“Lot of bloody good you're doing it, waltzing in here and lecturing me,” Reis said, leaning back in their seat. For a moment, I was certain they were mulling over the consequences of pulling off their leg and throwing it at someone.
“Now, we didn't turn up empty-handed. Did we, Becca?”
Reis' interest was piqued almost as much as mine was. When their parents had something to share, it was usually worth all the nagging and fussing. With a gesture from Ben, Rebecca pulled her satchel onto the table and retrieved a map from it. I leant forward, trying to discern something from it, but couldn't gather much from the sea and jungle scrawled across it.
“So. This – supposedly – leads you right to a long-forgotten temple. Word has it that no one's been down there in centuries. The original gold phoenixes are said to still be there,” Rebecca said, “You know us. We're not about to be duped; we've got a solid source. The original was recently tracked down by Queen Nasrin herself, so you know it's gotta be worth looking into.”
Rebecca slid the map across the table, but Reis only stared down at it.
“... who's your source?”
Reis' parents shared a look of wry amusement, and their dad said, “Varn. Now don't—”
Reis slapped a hand against the table, growling in annoyance as they looked off to the side.
“Can't bloody leave it, can you?”
“We happened upon her by chance! Come on, kid. She's a lovely woman. Never in all my years have I seen someone wield a crowbar so magnificently,” Ben said, then turned to me, adding, as an aside, “Varn bested Kouris in a fight once, you know. Hand-to-hand combat, and Varn was drunk.”
I'd heard the name tossed around the taverns a few times, but it didn't mean much to me. A glance at Reis told me I'd be waiting a long time for an explanation.
“Couldn't even remember her own name,” Rebecca added. “So you don't want the map?”
“That ain't what I'm saying,” Reis grumbled, snatching it up and promptly throwing it over to me. “Take it down to the docks in the morning. See who'll pay the most for it.”
Reis' parents stayed for a few more hours. Conversation became a little more serious, though the topic rarely swayed from Gavern, and I ran into Mahon to fetch us all food. Kouris returned with me and they made a fuss over her, both rising to kiss her cheek and get a better rendition of what had happened those last few months than Reis was willing to part with. In order to distract theirself, Reis had Kouris sit on the floor while they sat on the table, one leg hooked over her shoulder as they worked on the patterns they were engraving into her horns. After a few drinks, even Reis was smiling.
I got to my feet and held the door open when Reis' parents decided it was time to make a move, and as Ben stepped out into baking evening air, I said, “Any luck?” needing to ask though I already the answer.
“'fraid not, kid,” Ben said, patting my shoulder. “We'd give you a ship – hell, we'd give you ten ships – but nothing gets into Asar. Not without Nasrin pulling a few strings.”
I nodded, thanked them regardless, and went back to poring over the creased map. All it was going to take to get home, then, was befriending the Queen of Canth.
Reis said nothing more about the map, gave me no specifications beyond selling it to the highest bidder, and I took it upon myself to decide that I came with the map. I'd been on a handful of these expeditions – calling them treasure hunts was frowned upon – and though I'd hardly come back drowning in wealth, I wasn't about to miss out on the chance to see an ancient temple.
I went down to the docks at dawn, while the pirates were still milling around, d
eciding on what to do with their day. People had tired of chasing Gavern's ghost, and I garnered plenty of interest, most of it in the form of pirates humming and rubbing their chins, wanting to look at the map for a little too long.
I stood atop a crate to make sure no one could miss me, and saw Atthis heading across the docks.
“Atthis! Hey!” I called out, and he turned on the spot, looking around for me. “Up here. Where are you going?”
“Rowan! Good morning. I'm taking the ship to Votas,” he said, holding up the bag at his side. “I shouldn't be gone for much more than a week. I heard tell a man there can get letters to Kastelir.”
He'd followed plenty of these leads before, never failing to come back empty-handed, but I wished him luck, knowing that sometimes, keeping busy was all we could do.
“Sending letters?” Tizo asked with a snort, and stared up at me, hands on her hips. “You lot really are desperate to get back to a wasteland. What's all this about, anyway?”
“An ancient temple,” I said, holding the map up for half a second. “I hear the golden phoenixes are still there and everything.”
Tizo reacted as the other pirates did – she hummed, sucked a breath thought her teeth and tilted her head from side to side as she considered it – and offered me up a third of what I knew she could afford. I told her I'd think about it.
“You got a reliable source on that, Felheim?” another vaguely interested party asked.
“It's from, uh—Varn?” I tried, hoping the name carried as much weight on the docks as it had with Reis.
Somehow hearing me across the din, Tizo shoved her way through the gathered masses, and said, “Why didn't you say that in the first place! Look here, I'll pay you twice what she will, plus I'll let you pick who we take along.”
Deciding that her offer was more than fair, I parted with the map and scanned the deck. Tae would probably worm her way into the crew whether I picked her or not, and there were only two other people I particularly wanted with us. Kouris was nowhere to be seen, but Akela was at the other end of the docks, standing taller than the others and helping someone carry a crate, and I jumped on the spot, waving her over.
