The Voyages of Cinrak the Dapper

by A. J. Fitzwater

  Cinrak paused in winding a rope. “Still?”

  Colombia sucked his whiskers. Something like comprehension snuck thief-like across his face. “I think...it would change if something was taken away from here.”

  “The Heart,” Cinrak nodded. “That makes sense. They be the guardian of the jewel.”

  An upward lilting arroogh. An affirmation. Did the whale understand rodent tongue?

  “Get to it, ye lot,” Cinrak coughed. “We needin’ to be ship shape so we be figurin’ how to get back up top.”

  The crew were sluggish to turn away from the sight of the wondrous reunion between the beasts, but to their credit, they held fast to their IRATE values: ship first.

  “Alright. I guess there bein’ a cave or a chest or a pedestal round here,” Cinrak murmured to Benj and Riddle.

  “It’s in a chest...” The cabin boy started to say, and that was all Cinrak needed. She sent Riddle scampering to launch the captain’s sculler.

  “But, ser,” Benj tried again, tugging on her arm.

  Cinrak frowned him into silence. “We’ve upheld our end of the bargain, now it be Agnes’ turn.”

  “No! You can’t!” Benj blurted, front teeth showing. He was perilously close to insubordination.

  “We problee do’na be havin’ much time, Benj. Now the anger an’ magic of them hundreds o’ star-turns be dissipatin’, that drain’ll collapse in on itself. We do’na wanna be here when that happens.”

  But Benj planted his rear paws and folded his arms, whiskers aquiver. “No!”

  Cinrak’s nostrils flared. “Benj,” she growled, straightening to her full capybara height.

  Benj planted his small self between the captain and the unfurled rope ladder. “You can’t have the Heart!”

  Colombia and the mer scouts gathered at the rail, looking between the unfolding scenes in the not-water and on board. The rest of the crew put their heads down and made busy. They all knew that look on their captain’s face.

  “This ain’t a negotiation,” Cinrak growled. “Agnes promised.”

  “To lead you to the Heart, not let you cut it out of the ocean!” Benj was on the verge of tears, but to his credit he stood his ground. Cinrak would keep that in mind when she decided his punishment.

  Chest puffed, Cinrak stepped face to face with the cabin boy. “I ain’t arguing with ye. Under IRATE law, a deal is a deal. You gotta be learnin’ to toughen up that heart a’ yours, boy.”

  A gasp, like a spring breeze across a prickleberry bush. The mers. Propriety be damned, she thought. Cinrak the Dapper’s reputation came as salty as the ocean.

  Forceful in her anger, Cinrak swung about to face the judgment of her mer friends and smacked snout to wet leathery appendage.

  Agnes reared up over the ship, eye apologetic but tentacles an impenetrable wall. Whichever way Cinrak tried to dodge, the tentacle in her face followed.

  Benj placed himself between the tentacle and his captain. “Agnes says you can’t have the Heart of the Ocean.”

  “But she promised!”

  Benj pointed at the now relaxed glass whale blowing curious spouts. Such a sight, water in, water out. “There is your chest with your prize. It is an actual chest. An actual heart!”

  “Oh.” The entirety of the revelation replaced Cinrak’s breath with silence.

  And what a beautiful heart it was. An enormous, scintillating ruby shot through with veins of sapphire and pink diamond. It pumped prodigiously, pushing plasma through the plump pellucid physique.

  “Well.” Cinrak coughed around a plethora of emotions. “We ca’na be puttin’ that in the queen’s crown now, can we?”

  Xolotli had ocean magic to spare. From what Cinrak could ascertain from Benj’s loving burbles, the whirlpool had gotten away from her, the power of the Void self-sustaining. Now that she had her love and control back, she deftly broke the bonds on the Edge of the World and let the drain disperse. The Impolite Fortune rode the ocean wall up and up, supported again by the soft weight of Agnes’ tentacles.

  The strange star-like lights sunk back into the depths, embraced by the Void like an impenetrable night flipped on its head. Cinrak’s heart wanted to flow with them. It made her feel so small and yet so large at the same time. The stars still had lessons to teach her.

  Upon reaching the surface, the mers began whistling in excitement. The dissipation of the water walls had revealed the submerged archipelago. The mer quickly rescued gaping fish and set to exploring the seaweed-draped ruins.

  While the crew and mers fussed over the persistence of their respective homes, Benj sat atop the highest point on the main island, silent and strong as a masthead. Agnes and Xolotli swum excited circles around each other and the islands. With the Bruise gone and the ocean calm, the tableau glittered iridescent beneath the excited Moth and Paper Moons and stars.

  Cinrak approached her cabin boy carefully, forepaws crossed across her broad chest. “I, yuh, have come teh apologize.”

  The wee chinchilla’s eyes widened at the unexpected opening. “Why? You’re the captain. You make calls as you see fit.”

  “But I didna listen to ye. I bin so focused on my reward, agin. I wouldna ever be hurtin’ a creature to take what I be needin’ or wantin’. ‘Specially one so beautiful as Xolotli.”

  A wistful sigh escaped between Benj’s whiskers. “They are that.” Belatedly, he stood and snapped a salute, fur making a damp little squish beneath his fist. “But in the end, you failed to get what you promised.”

  “Neh.” Cinrak shrugged. “Ye learn to make the best o’ a situation. I found the Edge of the Earth, tamed the great whirlpool, and reunited lovers. That in itself will be makin’ a great Epic I can sell to the bards for star-turns to come. An’ look. The mers have found a part of their lost home. They be happy too.”

  “But what about the queen’s crown? Won’t she be mad?”

  “She’ll get over it. ‘Sides, sometimes I be thinkin’ a jewel ain’t what make a leader great. Orvillia is a good ratty, but she be needin’ to find her own heart, an’ not be takin’ it from the ocean. Or the land.”

  Benj stared at his captain, open-mouthed. Cinrak chuckled and slapped him on the back. “Eh, let me be tellin’ you ‘bout ogre socialism sometime, young kit.”

  Agnes forestalled any further brusque sentimentality by rising high in the water, tentacles flailing as the mers whistled and laughed.

  “What be botherin’ her now?” Cinrak asked.

  “Well, er, she has a gift for you, ser.”

  “Does she now.”

  Agnes swam as close as she dared and Cinrak clambered down the slippery rocks to greet her. “This gift better not be a hug,” she grumbled.

  Agnes unfurled a leathery tentacle, the tip ending perfectly before Cinrak’s blunt snout. Balanced on the tip was a jewel the size of Cinrak’s fist, striated with perfect sweet rosiness, a flash of diamond star, and a blue as dark as the deepest ocean. It smelled like the crackle-taste of stars.

  “She says...oh.” Benj gasped sweetly. “It’s a piece of whalefall from the deepest trench. It’s been down there for so long, the pressure of the water and remnants of its sky cousins have rendered it into something new.”

  “Like pieces of the earth deep in the earth,” Colombia said, coming closer to inspect the proffered gift.

  “Whale goop and star poop,” Benj giggled.

  “A piece of dead whale turned jewel,” Cinrak breathed, touching a claw tip to the stone. Sure enough, it tingled like the star had tingled beneath her thighs when she rode it. “How marvelous. I never be thinkin’ o’ such a thing. Are ye sure?”

  Agnes blinked and shook the tentacle a little: here, take it.

  Cinrak took the stone and rolled it gently between her forepaws. It gave off a warmth unexplained by the eons spent below in the freezing dark. “What part of the whale it bein’?”

  “Heart,” Benj said.

  An enormous whale heart compacted down to this? Cinrak saluted and bowed
to Agnes who waved her tentacles back. “Yer kindness will never be forgotten—” She clicked and slurped her way through the full name.

  She slipped the stone into the Alice pocket of her vest for safekeeping. So, she got her heart after all. Did she deserve it? What had she just said about jewels and crowns and queens? She needed to think on this one.

  The North Wind, having searched frantically all around the Bruise since the ship disappeared, finally found them and blew a warm sigh of relief. Xolotli blew rainbows, the ocean kissed the stones, and the Impolite Fortune groaned through its litany of aches.

  “All aboard!” Cinrak called.

  When she reached the railing, she looked down to find Benj gathered with the mers who were staying to investigate the uncovered islands.

  “Hey!” she called. “It be time to go!”

  From the rise in his now tatty vest and scarf, Cinrak could see Benj was gathering his courage.

  “I think—” His voice cracked downwards. “I’m staying here. Agnes needs me.”

  Perhaps, Cinrak thought, it was the other way round.

  Benj continued, “The mers need me too.” Colombia slapped him on the shoulder with his long fin and nodded. “What I learned back in Merholm, what I’ve learned from Agnes and Xolotli and my m...magic. My place, for now, is here.”

  There was no use in giving a speech about IRATE duty, but Cinrak gave it anyway, out of duty. Riddle collected Benj’s kit from below deck and threw it down.

  “Not sure how you gonna keep it all dry though!” she laughed.

  “I’ll learn quick,” Benj grinned, saluting the first mate.

  Something pinched hard in Cinrak’s chest. Her own jewel-like heart, dusting off memories of discovering bow ties and girls and ocean delights? Or a little throb of the whale heart hidden in her vest?

  “Take care, ye salty wee scrapper,” Cinrak called as they cast off. “We be back soon, ye can count on that. Not fair ye get to have all the fun! Oh, an’ Benj? I got ye pirate name! A-Benj the Ocean Star!”

  He laughed at the pun. “It’s perfect! Thank you!”

  “Yer welcome.”

  “Give my best to Orvillia and Loquolchi!” Benj roar-squeaked, tears in his eyes.

  “That’s Queen Orvillia to you, young mer-fur,” Colombia chuckled.

  The shimmer of mer and whale song followed the Impolite Fortune for as long as the stars stitched the sky together. As dawn peaked over the horizon and the sun sparkled a yawn, sending the Moth and Paper Moon off to their beds, the glass whale blew one final rainbow salute and Agnes made intricate signs with her tentacles Cinrak thought she could almost read.

  One more salute to kraken and whale and Cinrak wiped her salty-sweet cheeks dry and turned her snout towards where her two other loves made home.

  The Hirsute Pursuit

  Tail the Fifth:

  To the Mountain, to See How Hairy It Is

  * * *

  Horns harped across the Ratholme harbour. Cider grew warm and cushions cold at the Bloody Mary Tavern. Ships swarmed with scurrying sailors. Dolphins danced in the dappled sunlit waves, squeeing out their message.

  The Beard of Covetona Island had returned.

  Cinrak the Dapper, capybara captain of the pirate vessel the Impolite Fortune, issued a multitude of orders. She waved her arms with an excitement that mirrored the waving tentacles of Agnes the kraken when she had blasted into the harbour. A tense moment between Cinrak and the city guard rushing with their harpoons ensued as she translated via her cabin kit Benj, Agnes’ mind-kin, that the enormous beast brought a message of goodwill. The dolphins had seen the hair of the Covetona volcano, gossiped to Agnes, and together they came to tell Rodentdom of the once in a lifetime harvest.

  A harvest Cinrak was determined to be first to partake of and get the greatest take. Not for herself, but for Benj, all like him who needed to reveal their true gender, and to make sure of an equitable distribution of the resource. No hoarding by apothecaries for star-turns and price gouging on her watch.

  Cinrak’s barrel chest puffed out with pride as she watched Benj rush around telling anyone who would listen “I’m going to get my beard!” The crew were cheered by his infectious excitement and increased their efforts to get under the eye of the South Wind first.

  Mystery shrouded Covetona. Many said the Great Capybara Mother had rested paws there during her journeys through Ratdom. Cinrak believed that as much as she believed the Great Mother ever existed. It would be quite something to be part of the Epic told about this generation’s Beard Expedition and help the theologians with their questions.

  The three-tone whistle of “Honoured Guest Ahoy” startled Cinrak. An elderly rat with a silver scar through one eye and a walking cane and a middle-aged capybara waited to be welcomed aboard.

  Cinrak stepped down to the docks and gripped the wrist of her old mentor, Mereg the Sharp, pirate-style. “Good to be with ya, friend!”

  “Greets, friend.” Mereg passed over a packet of thick pages. “I found the maps ye asked for. An’ another friend for ye.”

  Cinrak held back her grimace. It had been a good ten star-turns since she had personally delivered a tithe to her old home, but there was no mistaking that snout. “Helet.”

  “Hello, Cinrak. It’s been a while. I understand you require my assistance.” Her old guardian from the orphanage was both younger and older than she remembered, grey sprinkling her neck and ears, but back just as stick-straight as ever.

  “Ah, Ratdom’s finest expert on the Great Mother wantin’ a piece of Covetona.”

  Helet beamed a long-tooth smile. “Of course I do, dear. I can tell you all about the island and those wicked wild fairies where Mereg cannot.”

  Mereg gripped the head of their cane with both paws, choosing to cut Helet with the daggers of their eyes than with any of the daggers secreted on their person. It wasn’t their fault they couldn’t sail anymore.

  “Ye been there before.”

  “You assume correctly. One of those times Mereg was...proficient enough to escort me on my studies, we visited Covetona at harvest time. Unfortunately, the local population of fairies wouldn’t allow me all the way to the top of the mountain to investigate the supposed site of the Mother’s shrine.”

  Cinrak rubbed the bridge of her nose. It made sense to have a theological specialist along to make an official report. But Helet had a habit of sticking her snout into places she didn’t belong. It would be a juggle to keep her out of pirate, and Benj’s, business.

  “A’ight, welcome aboard.”

  Helet bustled up the gangway.

  A voice cut through the clatter of loading.

  “Greets! My name is Benj. Pleased ta have ya aboard! You going to visit the beard too? Can you imagine it? A mountain growing a beard! I wonder how soft it is. Do you know? I’m going to get my beard!”

  Helet stared at Benj’s outstretched paw. She delicately pinched claw to tippy claw and jiggled it in something that was an ugly reminder of a greeting. “Oh. I recognize you now. You’re Chauncy’s girl. I’d heard you’d run away to sea. I didn’t realize it was with my Cinrak.”

  Benj’s entire pelt shivered. He hadn’t been misgendered since he’d joined the Impolite Fortune.

  “Ah, matron. Ye be mistakin’.” Cinrak hustled up to the altercation, loading her voice with sugar. “Lad, this be me former matron, Helet. Helet, this be my cabin lad, Benj. Actually, excusin’ me. Still getting used to callin’ him me Fourth Mate!”

  Benj’s teary eyes went quite wide at the sudden promotion.

  Helet looked between capybara and chinchilla and grunted. She fished around for something else to say. “And how does a chinchilla stop from dying when around all this water?”

  “Oh, then you must meet Agnes!” Just mentioning his large orange friend brought the light back to his round face. “She’s taught me a few of her tricks. There’s always puff powder. And I’m not the only chinchilla that’s ever been a pirate, so all vessels have dust tubs
. If you’d spent any time even near a pirate vessel that would be obvious!”

  Helet’s snout scrunched a little as she tried to decide if she’d been insulted. “Agnes? Who is this?”

  The perfect answer was a warning honk from a barge across the harbour.

  “Oi! Agnes!” Cinrak called. “I ken the channels be nice ‘n smooth for yer arms, but the ferries come first. Back it up.”

  The harbour water rippled like a rapid backwards tide. The barge honked its thanks and powered on.

  The kraken’s great spade-shaped head rose up at the harbour entrance and her single enormous eye blinked a sweet apology, creating a small wash that slapped the ship’s sides.

  “She only wants to be close to me,” Benj explained for the hundredth time.

  “I ken, lad. But the harbour just ain’t big enough for her.”

  Helet was shrieking like the world was ending. The crew stared at her, confused. Mereg hid their good eye in a paw, shoulders shaking with laughter.

  “It’s just Agnes,” Benj grumbled, slouching away to his duties. “She wouldn’t hurt a starfish.”

  Cinrak whistled up her first mate. Helet winced at the noise, decided she was done yelling, then winced again at the site of the spiky haired rat with an eye-patch. “Riddle here will show ye to yer accommodations.”

  “Thank you, dear. I hope you have a cabin suitable. It’s been so long since I’ve been on board such a, uh—” Helet cast an eye across the gleaming brass and wood. “vessel.”

  Riddle vibrated at the implication against her cleaning skills. “Cap’n?”

  “Apologizin’, friend,” Cinrak said out the corner of her mouth as Helet swiped a claw along a rail and checked it for dust. “Be givin’ her yer cabin. Ye can bunk in with me.”

  “Aye, cap’n.”

  Riddle switched her patch to her good eye and gave her captain a consolatory shoulder pat for all she was about to endure. She’d heard the stories about her captain’s guardian. Helet had never got over Cinrak’s rejection of becoming her orphanage protégé, didn’t understand her chosen family of pirates, and had never accepted Cinrak’s love of marmot diva Loquolchi and the rodent queen Orvillia, the former because she was ‘one of those artist types who spread herself around liberally’, the latter because Cinrak would never use her pirate clout to give Helet an introduction at court.