“You know your primer. Good. I had hoped.”
A tall, square shape disconnected from the fog, backlit by a hot shimmer from lava vents.
“Great Capybara Mother!” Cinrak stared, eyes wide and filled with stars.
Fur silver with age. Deep dark eyes full of the world’s triumphs and misdeeds. An air of danger and strength whirled around the old capybara. Cinrak instinctively knew the elder could take her in a fight.
Xit gave the capybara a simple nod which she returned. Cinrak could almost feel their communication roiling along the medium of silence.
“M...Mother?”
“Oh, you didn’t mean it as a curse. Ha! Pssh. Please. Don’t get yeself in a twist, me young squiddy.” The capybara twirled her paw. “No deities round here. Unless ye count the joy that comes from being close to them best waters in the world.”
Something familiar sat within the elder capybara’s face, solid stance, and piratical lexicon. Cinrak carefully held out her paw.
“Pleased to be greetin’ ya, m’arm. I be Cinrak—”
“—the Dapper, cap’n o’ the IRATE vessel the Impolite Fortune, bearer o’ the Epics o’ stars ‘n kraken, an’ lover o’ the queen an’ the diva. Aye, yer reputation preceeds ye.” The elder gripped wrists firmly. Her smile made her dark eyes wrinkled with age and mirth almost disappear into her silvering fur. “I be Wautseaster, tender o’ water, words, an’ hair. An’ dun you be m’armin’ me, lass. We all the same here.”
“There used to be a great pirate named Wautseaster the Fierce.” Cinrak tried to take in everything as the elder capybara led them through the fragrant fog, which resolved into...steam! Luxurious geothermal hot pools! “She used to be the mentor o’ my mentor, Mereg the Sharp.”
“Aye.” The elder tossed a bright citrus fruit to Xit. The fairy bit deeply without peeling. “There used to be.”
The jungle dwindled and they came out on a wide plateau just beneath the mountain’s face scattered with steaming geothermal pools and small pits. A fine house cut out of the rock and a cheery fire licking at a billy of tea finished the homely tableau. Cinrak dipped a paw in a pool scattered with herbs, testing temperature. Perfect.
“Some say she disappeared many star-turns ago in a glorious battle with a shark. Others say she rode a narwhale to the end of the world.”
“All could be true.” Wautseaster gave a sly wink. “Yet, here I be.”
“An’ yet others say their old mentor retired quietly with books ‘n tea,” Cinrak said, finding her smirk. “Aye, Mereg still talks about ye.”
“Don’t see Mereg as much as I used to. I see a lot o’ them in ye. Now yer here, we can secure the next chapter o’ the Mothers’ way.”
Cinrak blinked many times before she could find her words. “Ye be speakin’ in the plural.”
Mereg’s secret. Agnes’ insistence they be first to the island. Xit’s friendliness. The South Wind’s begrudging acceptance of her praise and promises. It all made sense now! A kind conspiracy to get her here.
A new job!
It felt wonderful to be needed.
A familiar voice called from just above their heads.
“Cap’n! You made it!”
Benj waved from the lip of the volcano’s mouth. There was something bulkier and taller about the lad, as if the mountain had spat out an all new chinchilla.
“Lad! Ye puff powder! Ye ran off without it, ye silly sea snail! This jungle coulda eat ye up without a second bite!”
The beard covered rocks delivered Benj safely with a slip and a slide to the pool plateau. And then Cinrak could see it: Benj had a thick rich beard of the loveliest brown, a wonderful counterpoint to his grey fur.
“I be so angry with ye,” Cinrak growled, grabbing him into a fierce hug. “But also glad ye be safe ‘n sound. Ye broke the rules! I don’t understand. That not be like ye!”
“I had to go, Cap’n. I didn’t have time to stop for anything but my coat and boots. It was a silly thing not to tell anyone, but Helet was moving so fast and I didn’t want her to get hurt.”
Xit nodded approvingly. Benj had only been thinking of someone else’s safety, even though Helet had given him so much aggravation. A very piratey thing to do.
Benj continued, “I got turned around. It’s so dark in the trees! I walked for ages looking for her and I was getting tired then I realized I didn’t know the way back to the beach and the tree trunks were so smooth I couldn’t climb up to find my way and—” he finally paused for breath. “—Wautseaster found me at sunset and brought me here. And hair. Here hair, I mean.”
Cinrak held Benj at arm’s length, her eyes hot and moist. “An’ now look at ye. Yer so handsome.”
Cinrak looked to Wautseaster, who was smiling fondly at Benj and smoothing the edge of his beard with a gentle knowing. It took Benj a long time to let other people touch him, and his instant trust in the elder capybara allowed Cinrak to let her suspicions fall away.
“I have my beard.” His smile threatened to break his face in two.
“Thank you,” Cinrak whispered, letting Benj go to show Xit their beard. The fairy flickered a softer blue and buzzed cross-legged in place, their way to show peace, forgiveness, friendship.
“It be the Mothers’ mission to know these things.”
“Wautseaster is your grand-mentor!” Benj exclaimed. “Which makes her my great-grand mentor!”
Wautseaster hugged Benj gently. “Aye. That be fer later, when ye feel ye know yerself. Enjoy these early times with yer mind-kin. An’ don’t think yer getting’ off easy with yer flattery. Ye broke Xit’s rules. Xit will tell ye what ye need to do to make up for it.”
Xit pondered for a moment. “Aoh. We ask you to learn to be an advocate for the fairies.”
Benj’s eyes were now so round they could almost eat up the stars. “An ambassador? Like the cap’n to the Felidae? That doesn’t sound like a job at all, that sounds like fun!”
“It be a lot o’ thankless work. Many people won’t like you for it.” Xit’s glow darkened.
Benj didn’t hesitate. “Alright. I’ll do it.”
“Good. Now go pour yerself a cuppa an’ have a dust bath, young ‘un.” Wautseaster pushed him in the direction of the cheery fire. “The tea will help the weave stick, an’ the bath will clean out any critters that be nestin’ up in there.”
“Wautseaster let me have the best hair from Covetona’s mouth,” Benj said in a dramatic whisper on the way past. He ran his claws through it, face awash with amazement. “I can’t wait to show Agnes. She says she can feel it on my face. She likes it! It tingles. Little taps and zaps. Like it’s talking to me in code...”
His magic was growing if he could mind-speak to Agnes at this distance. He spoke of his new beard the way Cinrak knew her mer hair rope, brushed with magic from the stars.
Once Benj was out of hearing, Cinrak turned to Wautseaster. “A’ight. Time for ye to talk. What these Mothers ye speak of have to do with the Great Capybara Mother, what they want with me, an apostate by the way, and what they be to do with the Beard. Aye, an’ Helet too. Deepest Depths, she still be out there!”
Wautseaster dipped mugs of tea from the large billy, while Benj helped himself from a small one. She gave a little nod to Xit as she passed him a steaming drink.
“Aoh. She is well. Me fam are keeping her corralled, though she does not know it.” Xit sipped their tea, the facets of their big eyes glittering in the firelight. “I will check on her in a moment.”
“A little wanderin’ in circles will do her good,” Wautseaster chuckle-snorted. “It what she best at.”
Cinrak breathed through her whirling thoughts. Helet was troublesome, sometimes even on the edge of dangerous to others, but did she deserve punishment like this? She looked from the mysterious old capybara to the fairy for reassurance. They knew their land. They wouldn’t let harm come to her. Maybe a little fright at best was all Helet was due.
“Walk with me, lass.” Wautseaster beckoned. “We have much to dis
cuss and not much time.”
They climbed a well-trod path carving a handsome wrinkle into the chin of the mountain.
“We can never quite predict when the Beard will go into season,” Wautseaster said. “We were always expectin’ to call ye to the mountain, prob’ly later, with guidance from Mereg. But this be a happy occurrence we took advantage o’.”
“I’m to be a guardian o’ the mountain, like ye? Like the Great Mother?”
“Aye. And nay. We ask ye to become a guardian o’ many things. That be the heart o’ the Mothers. We share the load. We ease the burden amongst ourselves, and those of Rodentdom, though they don’t know it.”
Cinrak paused at the lip of the mouth and took a sip of her tea. A refreshing glow slid right down to her claws.
The width and depth of the cave did nothing to dispel the illusion of mouth-like qualities. Moisture slicked every surface, underlit by a cool green glow. There was a deep scent, of soil and time. Stalactites hung like teeth. Mushrooms poppled the floor like a rough tongue.
From the mushrooms, filaments sprung, rich earthen red, copper, and brown, spreading out from the mouth and down the mountain. The source of the Beard.
“This be just one way we share. The mushrooms taste best fresh, but are just as potent dried an’ powdered.” Wautseaster plucked mushrooms, examined each, and popped them in a cotton sack. “A little in Benj’s tea each day, with honey to taste. Will help the beard take in the early stages, then the rest o’ his growth throughout his life. Depending on the way they be brewed the mushroom helps reinforce all sorts o’ bodily and mindly things for the likes o’ us, with gender an’ none. I’ll tell ye both which apothecaries be friendly to the Mothers.”
The inner cave humidity gave way to the breeze-cut deep night. Wautseaster continued as she showed Cinrak how to brew the tea, then as they stripped off and settled in for a soak. Cinrak could almost hear the creak of her bones as she settled into the hot water.
The Great Mother had not been a deity, simply one capybara or a group of them doing the work of peace, kindness, and goodwill amidst Rodentdom’s turbulent ancient times. Now the Mothers were all sorts, and not just capybara. There were those with experience of the care of mind and body. Those with spirituality and none. They moved through all parts of society, bringing perspective and respect.
The Mother’s myth worked well to ensure the cooperative continued. The Mothers didn’t always agree, and that was their strength. Kindness was an everyday practise, not just a state of being.
Covetona was one place of the Mothers, the fairies happy to do their part to keep the mystery and their autonomy intact. Wautseaster was no leader. The Mothers didn’t believe in hierarchal structure; why recreate the power problems of old? A cooperative ensured no one Mother became a target, or if one passed, the whole didn’t fall apart. The Mothers met, rested, and moved their Texts all over Rodentdom.
“Movin’ the Texts.” Cinrak munched an apple plucked from a bowl set beside the pool, a sweet counterpoint to the tea. “Do ye mean to say the Mothers invented piracy?”
“The early Mothers took advantage. It helped that pirates were like us, searchin’ for a different way to organize. The Mothers worked hard to move away from the plunderin’ and lootin’ towards a fair distribution of resources ideal.”
“IRATE. The union. Another part of the Mothers’ plan.”
“We don’t have a plan. We aim to guide an’ support. Put all mammals on equal paws. Leadin’ leads to power, an’ power leads to imbalance. We lift and sustain. We love equally, to the best o’ our abilities.”
“‘My sister, my love. If she be yer heart, give her ye soul’. Clawsicans, chapter six, line nine. The original Mother was a lesbian, aye?”
“Aye, that be the interpretation. One of the first to stand proud against a vicious slander campaign amongst rodentkind’s factions.”
“Helet never believed me.”
Cinrak sunk down in the water until only the top of her head showed. She blew bubbles through her nostrils.
Secrets upon secrets. Was such a deep secret good for the world? Deities always had a lifespan. Eventually the Mothers would be revealed, maybe not in her lifetime. Feelings would be felt. Accusations of manipulation would be made.
Cinrak rose a little from the water, steam streaming from the slicked fur on her head. “I can’t tell Loqui or Orvillia, aye? Or Helet. Ugh. I be no good at lyin’.”
“Ye do yer best, an’ that be enough.” Wautseaster chuckled. “Ha. Mereg can show ye the ways o’ better lyin’. They learned from the best.”
Cinrak snorted bubbles again. “Oh, aye. So, what do I have to do?”
“Be there for yer fam.”
“That’s it?”
“Fer now. Oh, an’ take up Mereg’s old book trade. Books be one of the best weapons in a way of words.”
They soaked in companionable silence for a time, until Xit floated back into the clearing. Benj emerged looking fresh, a new man from his dust bath. Cinrak sighed and pulled herself free from the embrace of the hot water.
“We betterin’ be fetchin’ Helet.” Cinrak towelled off. “It must be painin’ yer people to have her walkin’ on yer land uninvited, Xit.”
“We are guidin’ her pawfall to be minimal,” the fairy shrugged, twig hair rattling. “But, aoh. It is time.”
A thought struck Cinrak as she pulled on her work vest, pants, and boots. “Why ye not askin’ Helet to be a Mother? Ain’t she perfect for the job?”
Wautseaster slipped into pirate work clothes rather than her previous soft robes. “It be a shame, but she don’t have the temperament. What she knows about the Great Mother’s texts! But her interpretations be too rigid. She not a changin’ type.”
“Aye,” A strange mix of relief and pity warred within Cinrak “She does be lovin’ that control.”
Wautseaster fetched a tricorner hat and a hip sword. Props. She passed Benj a bag of fresh mushrooms and Xit another orange. “Call me Uster. Just another pirate wantin’ a piece o’ the beard, an’ come to help with the rescue.”
“Aye, that be very kind o’ ye, Cap’n Uster.” Cinrak saluted.
With one last long gaze upon the plateau, Cinrak and Benj said their silent farewells to the peaceful place. For the time being.
“What if I’d said nay to the job?” Cinrak asked as the jungle took them in its embrace once more.
A sly smile reminiscent of Mereg cut Wautseaster’s furry silver face. “We choose so well no one says nay.”
Cinrak swallowed her argument.
“Now, ship hierarchy,” Wautseaster said, warm voice weaving with the dark. “Somethin’ I’d been workin’ on with Mereg...”
As Cinrak let her new friend ramble on, the North Wind brushed her ears with promises of a fair ride towards home.
Towards her new challenge.
Cetaceous Secrets of the Jewelled Nadir
Tail the Sixth:
In Which a Mysterious Whale Takes Our Captain to Their Fall
* * *
“Agnes wants us to what an’ where now?”
The riggings of the Impolite Fortune went as taut as an unplucked string, and the ocean all around went so silent it was almost as if the water was holding its breath.
“She wants us to follow Xolotli to Whale Fall,” Benj the chinchilla said, slow and careful. The tips of Agnes the kraken’s giant orange tentacles wriggled above water off starboard, as if narrating the behest by kraken sign language. “Xolotli has something they want to share with you, Cap’n.”
Cinrak the Dapper, capybara captain of the pirate vessel Impolite Fortune, sucked her underbite bottom lip with her large upper front teeth. Oh, she did love a good mystery of the ocean deep, and Xolotli, Agnes’ glass whale lover and denizen of the Edge of the World, was the most mysterious of them all. But sometimes her fame as adventurer, most visible member of the International Rodent Aquatic Trade Entente, friend to the Felidae, and member of the secret capybara Mothers’ cabal reste
d heavy on her shoulders. Secrets could break anchors, friendships, and hearts if not tended well, and Cinrak tended many.
“Not be like Xolotli to share anythin’. So when the glass whale asks, we do.”
Her first mate, Riddle, sidled up, ratty whiskers taut. “What be Whale Fall, ser?”
“It be where whales go to die.” Cinrak tried and failed to imagine the enormous graveyard. “Somewhere so deep their bones rest an’ their flesh becomes one with the water.”
Riddle’s patchwork face fur twitched in horror. “Be Xolotli dyin’?”
“Benj? Agnes’ ain’t losing her love so soon after findin’ them? That’d be terrible!”
“Nay, cap’n. Agnes says they’re almost as long-lived as she is. This be a—” the chinchilla scrunched up his fluffy silver brow and stared at his large cetaceous friend. “—journey downward we must trust in. That’s the best translation I can manage.”
Riddle switched their eye patch to their good eye with a groan. “We ain’t goin’ down another whirly-pool, eh?”
Agnes’ tentacles wriggled, pointing west.
“No. We’ll be following...the border.”
“But Agnes says there be no borders in the ocean!”
“Hmm, that didn’t translate right.” Benj took on too serious a mien for a youngfur. “We’ll be following a pilgrimage...?”
Riddle danced from paw to paw. She liked big things, she couldn’t lie, but only above water where she could control them.
Cinrak judged the angle of the sun, the happy scud of clouds, counted the moon dance, and came to a conclusion. “It be the Partin’, innit?”
The entire crew gasped so loud a breeze brushed up close thinking it was a courting ritual. The ocean slapped the side of the vessel in applause. The riggings creaked as the masts craned in the direction Agnes pointed.
Benj’s eyes went very round. “Aye. Agnes’ says that’s the right name for it.”
“Cap’n!” Riddle spun. “That be the tide o’ all tides. Some say strange magics be afloat. The moons ain’t friendly then! No one ever seen the whales’ graveyard a’tween the walls o’ water out deep when the Partin’ at full strength.”
The Voyages of Cinrak the Dapper Page 10
