Silver Mirrors

by A. A. Aguirre

  “I can’t hear a damn’d thing over our own noise. Ferro!”

  “They’ll split up and try and circle around us before we make the cliffs. Hunt us like animals.” The lean first mate did not stop, his easy loping gait giving him good speed even in the broken terrain. A gunshot sounded somewhere to their left, another on their right.

  “That’s hardly reassuring.” Mikani loosened his daggers in their sheaths and sawed through a tangle of branches and brush. “Get a bloody move on, then. We’ll make better speed on the foothills of the cliffs and out of this forest.”

  Mr. Ferro increased his pace, leaving Mikani and Ritsuko struggling to keep up.

  They broke from the tree line and onto the rocky hillsides leading up to the ridge above. The sun shone weakly through a thick layer of dark clouds.

  If that storm breaks, it’ll make us harder to spot. But it will make climbing down the cliff . . . tricky.

  They only took a moment to catch their breath before the sounds of men shouting and running through the undergrowth not far behind them made them head for the hills and the cover offered by the scattered boulders and rock piles dotting the slopes. The cragger group did look smaller, so Ferro had been right. Only ten men with guns charging at us.

  “Get ready for a fight,” Ferro said.

  Beside Mikani, Ritsuko took cover, and because he couldn’t think of a better plan, Mikani did the same. The first mate braced his rifle on the rocks, and Mikani holstered his daggers. Have to use the right weapon for the job. His gun didn’t have the same range as a rifle, and Ritsuko had a shotgun, so no long-distance sniping for them.

  “I wish we had more time to prepare,” Ritsuko said.

  A bullet pinged into the boulders, chipping stone that bounced against her cheek. The sharp edge cut her cheek, but she returned fire. Moving targets were harder to hit, so she got a tree instead. The cragger had to dive, however, and Mr. Ferro shot one of his companions. Mikani sighted and shot; he was aiming for the chest and got the thigh of the man next to his target.

  Close enough. Look at him bleed.

  The raiders slowed and ducked behind trees and bushes, swearing and calling out warnings to one another.

  “Move now, up the hill. I’ll keep their heads down.” Mikani took another shot at a raider when he peeked around his cover to try to aim at them.

  Ritsuko and Ferro scrambled up the hillside toward a rock outcropping a couple of hundred feet away. Mikani fired again a couple of times to buy his companions a few seconds, then ran after them.

  Ritsuko and Ferro had just taken cover when the firing from below started. The first mate returned fire, allowing Mikani to leap into cover beside them.

  “I really hate guns.” He reloaded quickly.

  They leapfrogged their way, shooting and scrambling for the next piece of cover, all the way to the top of the ridge. The craggers giving chase were cautious in following, which allowed the three to regain their lead as they ran along the top of the cliff, looking for the narrow path they’d taken up from the beach.

  The going’s definitely much quicker in daylight. Helps when you can see the path, and you have a couple of dozen men trying to kill you.

  Running on sand, however, was no easier than the rocks, just for different reasons. When Ritsuko went down in a loose, damp patch, Mikani paused long enough to grab her hand and haul her upright, before pressing on. Ferro’s balance was better, likely from long years at sea. He was used to the unsure footing of a rolling deck.

  More gunfire rang out behind them, and there was precious little cover. His heart raced, pounding in his ears, both from the exercise and the danger. He moved closer to the base of the cliff, hoping the others would follow suit. It left Ritsuko more vulnerable, however, as she was behind him. So he slowed his stride long enough for her to pass while hoping this moment of chivalry didn’t end with a bullet in his spine.

  Down on the beach at the bottom of the cliff, he saw glimmers of light, barely visible in the scant sunshine. But it had to be Saskia, signaling. Either they had encountered trouble or— Oh, damn. I wonder if they’ve run across the other half of the patrol.

  “Full out, Ferro, or we might not have a way out of here.”

  In answer, the first mate pushed into a sprint. Mikani wouldn’t have guessed the man could move so fast, but those long legs served a purpose, apparently. Ritsuko surprised him, too. She was small, but desperation probably had something to do with her ability to keep up.

  More gunfire chipped into the rocks behind him, one too damned close to his leg. That could have stung a bit. He fired blindly behind him and kept running.

  As the cliffs narrowed, opening to a slightly wider beach, he glimpsed Saskia. He didn’t see the rest of the patrol yet, so that was a blessing. Almost there. Damn’d be. Maybe Ritsuko was right about the cigarillos sapping my health . . . I swear my heart’s about to burst through my chest. Messy.

  “Hurry!” Saskia shouted. “They’re coming down the path.”

  “We’ll be lucky if they don’t blow a huge hole in the skiff.” The first mate sounded too tired to muster his customary sour humor, however.

  It’s been a long night.

  He ran, not just for his own life, but for Ritsuko and Saskia, too. At last, they reached the boat, as the craggers converged down the beach. The raiders shouted a confused jumble of conflicting orders, offering them precious seconds to shove the skiff off the sand and into the water. Hu tossed them in one by one, and then the big man hauled himself over the side with Ferro and Mikani’s help.

  “I meant for this to be a quiet mission, Mikani.” Saskia scowled at him.

  “Details, details.” He joined Hu at the oars while Ferro and Ritsuko fired at the craggers onshore. Saskia ducked low at the rudder as bullets splashed nearby and struck the hull with little clouds of splinters. Half an hour of frenetic rowing later, they were climbing the rope rigging off the side of the Gull.

  “Leave the boat, no time to bring her back on board!” Nell Oliver was signaling at them to hurry, alternating with shouting orders over her shoulder.

  As soon as Mikani cleared the railing, he could see why the boatswain was so eager to get going. “Hells and Winter.”

  The craggers had sent two warships after them. The captured Magnus frigates were rounding the edge of a nearby bluff, their dark patchwork sails billowing in the wind as they gained speed. They were twice the size of the Gull and bristling with cannon ports that were already opening. Craggers swarmed the decks, preparing to obliterate the clipper.

  Saskia pushed past him toward the forecastle, her crew pulling up anchor and running to free their own sails. She shouted orders like a madwoman, so fast that Mikani couldn’t parse all the nautical terms. It became a muddle of port and starboard, leeward ho, abaft the beam, and something about the boom vang. The sailors leapt to, however, so they evidently knew exactly what Saskia expected.

  She took up position near the prow of the ship. Mikani couldn’t hear what she was whispering, but he recognized the tingle of magic in the air. The winds stirred, yet these were no natural gusts. The air swirled thick and white, so that he could almost make out ghostly faces in the vapor. It felt damp and chill wherever it touched his skin.

  Ritsuko pressed closer, quietly. The sails swelled beneath the elemental push, and Saskia raised her arms, likely demanding more. He couldn’t imagine the energy this must be costing her, especially when she’d taxed herself chasing the raider ship, then spent a day roughing it on the beach. But she’s never lacked in determination. Or stubbornness; oftentimes when it wasn’t good for her.

  As Saskia’s long hair whipped in the wind, the first cannon shots boomed out.

  CHAPTER 11

  CANNONBALLS SPLASHED DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO THE hull of the ship. Ritsuko staggered under cover at the forecastle and found a handhold. She was shaking with exhaustion and unsure if Miss Braelan had the necessary reserves to get them out of this mess. The wind whipped until it sounded like angry
spirits howling, snapping unsecured lines and billowing the sails.

  In response, the clipper took off. She imagined the craggers shouting in frustration, but the warships were just too big and heavy to keep up. They might chase us all the way to Northport, but they won’t catch us, as long as Miss Braelan can keep the winds alive. That was the big question so far as Ritsuko was concerned. Just how strong a weather witch was this woman? It didn’t seem like the time to ask, but all of their lives depended on her stamina.

  The craggers continued firing even after the clipper left range, but eventually, the cannons fell silent. On deck, the sailors cheered. Miss Braelan didn’t let up until they were well out of sight of the Jagged Coast. Once there was nothing but open sea surrounding them, she finally stopped her onerous work. The woman’s shoulders slumped, and she stumbled when she moved away from the prow. Irahi was there to catch her with a concerned hand on her elbow.

  Muttering, the big man led the woman down to the infirmary, leaving Mr. Ferro to shout at the rest of the crew. I hope that’s enough of a lead. Natural winds weren’t nearly so powerful or reliable. But Sam was in the crow’s nest, peering about, so he would shout if he saw anything on the horizon.

  Ritsuko turned to Mikani, who was alternating between watching Miss Braelan and glaring at the receding cliffs. “We need to brief her when she’s feeling better.”

  “It may have to wait until we get to port. I suspect she drained every ounce of strength and then some . . . stubborn witch.” He shook his head, likely biting back more choice words for their captain. “But you’re right. She’ll want to know as soon as she wakes.”

  Mr. Ferro called down to them from his post at the wheel.

  “Stop muttering and get up here. If you please.” Her partner flipped a mocking salute but signaled for her to lead the way up the stairs to where the first mate was still giving orders.

  “We’ll cut through the narrows around the bay.” He pointed somewhere ahead. “With the currents—”

  Mikani interrupted him. “How long to Northport?”

  Mr. Ferro made a sour face, but answered, “Three, four days at most.” He seemed disinclined to elaborate further.

  “Then let’s hope for clear sailing.” Mikani unstrapped his daggers and pistol. “We’ll check on Saskia, then get some rest. See you on the morrow, Mr. Ferro.”

  Ritsuko stretched, suppressing a moan. She made a note to increase her physical training time when she returned to the city, as that trek had been brutal. Her sensible boots had rubbed blisters at heel and toes, which swelled and burst. She could only imagine the raw, bloody mess waiting to be tended. Murmuring some excuse for the two men, she tried not to limp as she made her way to her cabin. The slice on her side pulled and burned. At this point, even with a poultice, it seemed certain to leave a scar.

  First, a wash, then some first aid. And then I’m sleeping until I see land again.

  • • •

  ON THE FOURTH afternoon, they approached Northport, as Mr. Ferro had predicted. The port was even more crowded than Dorstaad’s East Docks; ships sailing the flags of at least three major Houses and a dozen smaller shipping concerns were anchored along the broad, sheltered bay. Ritsuko counted more than sixty vessels ranging in size from small fishing boats to the massive cargo steamers that dwarfed even the Magnus war cruiser, towering above them near the harbor’s entrance.

  “That’s the Pride of the North.” Mr. Ferro had been unusually loquacious since they’d gotten word regarding Miss Braelan’s recovery. Now he stood beside Ritsuko, identifying ships and flags as they negotiated the congested channel, headed for their assigned berth. “Over there, you’ll see Skarsgard’s winter squadron. Three frigates, four sloops. All armed to the teeth.”

  “Why do they have such a strong presence here?” She wasn’t clear on the politics of the Winter Isle or the economic complexities, either.

  “Safeguarding their interests, mainly, but given what we saw of the craggers, they’ll be gearing up for war soon enough.” The first mate nodded in what she took as a farewell—it was the closest Mr. Ferro came to courtesy, then he moved off to lecture one of the sailors.

  She shivered, gazing out over the gray water toward the city. Northport was low to the ground; no building rose above three stories in height, sandstone and dark red tile sprawling over three hills around the bay. The most imposing structure was perched above the tallest hill off on her right: walkways and gardens stretched over and around the knoll. The architecture seemed oddly familiar. After a moment, she remembered why.

  It reminds me of the Nuall villa.

  “That’s the Thorgrim palace.” Irahi came up on her left. For a big man, he moved quietly; she hadn’t heard him approach. The circles under his eyes said it had been difficult restoring Miss Braelan to health, but he was smiling. “I’ve heard stories of what goes on in there. If half of them are true, I know men who’d give a year’s wages for ten minutes inside.”

  “Not long ago, you would’ve been one of those men.” Mikani strolled toward them, wearing the hat she had given him. It might be a small thing, but she got a warm feeling anytime she saw the bowler perched on his tousled hair. This marked a return to the more or less civilized Mikani, though she knew better than to imagine it went all the way through.

  Irahi eyed the other man. “Says the scoundrel. I’ve half a mind to toss you overboard again.”

  Her partner smirked. “You can try.”

  Ignoring their banter, Ritsuko rose up on her tiptoes for a better vantage. To the right—was that port or starboard?—she spotted an older steamship that seemed to be in trouble. The water around it had been cleared of other vessels, except for the gunship sailing out from the harbor. She’d never seen a steamer move like that before; usually, they turned slowly, but this ship thrashed almost like a living creature, more like a whale.

  “What’s happening there?” She suspected the first mate would have more insight, but he was busy elsewhere.

  The doctor followed her pointing finger and stilled. “I have . . . no idea. Mikani?”

  “Captain’s drunk. Or insane.”

  She frowned at her partner. “They don’t send a warship after inebriated sailors.”

  Irahi laughed. “If they did, half the Gull’s crew would risk execution on a daily basis.”

  Ritsuko called out to the first mate. “Mr. Ferro! Can you shed some light on what’s going on over there?”

  He used his spyglass as the gunship drew closer to the thrashing steamer, opening fire with a thunderous noise. Cannonballs tore through the hull, and the steamer actually shuddered; the metal vibrated, emitting a noise that she told herself was just the welded panels breaking apart. But it didn’t sound that way.

  Instead of answering, Mr. Ferro shouted at the sailors. “Get us well away from that mess, boys! I want at least a hundred feet distance from those ships on our way to port.”

  She took that to mean it was truly dire, or he didn’t know and was erring on the side of safety. Since the steamer wasn’t armed, it didn’t return fire, but it tried to dive under the water, like a creature avoiding pursuit from above. The ship wasn’t built for such a maneuver, and it rolled as the gunship continued the onslaught.

  Ritsuko watched the unequal combat until she had to cross the deck to keep the conflict in sight. Though it had gaping holes in the hull, and, in several places, the ship was on fire, the steamer kept moving, little twists and rolls. I don’t know much about steam engines, but that doesn’t seem right. As they put some distance between the Gull and the other two ships, Mr. Ferro strode over, looking grim, even for his customarily dour features.

  Silently, he handed the spyglass to Ritsuko. She put it to her eye and closed the other for better focus. At first, she wasn’t sure what he meant for her to see. The men on board the warship were grim and determined. Most were sooty and exhausted, clad in charred, bloodstained uniforms. It looked as if they had fought a pitched battle, and they were afraid of losing.<
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  “I don’t understand,” she said with a questioning look.

  “Are you looking at the steamer?”

  “No.”

  “Do so.”

  There was a reason she hadn’t been. The inexplicable wrongness of that ship chilled her down to the bone, a creeping sensation of dread that she couldn’t articulate. Taking a breath, she altered her viewing trajectory. She skimmed along the half-flooded deck, taking in the damage and the scorch marks, ragged holes, and charred metal.

  “What’s missing in this picture?” the first mate demanded.

  It took her only a few seconds to grasp his point. “There are no sailors on that ship.”

  Mikani stepped up beside her, setting a hand on her shoulder. The mate silently handed him the glass, and he inspected the steamer, then shook his head. “What the hells.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Irahi muttered. “Have you ever seen anything like that?”

  “Not exactly.” Ritsuko thought for a moment, then she told them about the weeping train, the wailing mirror, and the furious tree.

  “I’d give a lot to understand what’s causing this,” Mikani said.

  Mr. Ferro put away his spyglass with a grim expression. “We’re better off figuring out how to survive it. Hold tight, it’ll be a rocky run past this ship graveyard into the harbor proper.”

  • • •

  AS SOON AS they berthed, the boatswain, Nell Oliver, led a party of armed and nervous sailors down the gangplank to secure the dock. Other ships had the same idea: the long pier was swarming with sailors pointing guns at other security details, at the streets, and sometimes at each other. Officers and civilian officials stood in little clusters, speaking in hushed tones and glancing out toward the harbor, where the plume of smoke from the sinking steamer was clearly visible.

  Loison paused beside Mikani and Ritsuko as they stood by the railing. “Inspectors, if you wouldn’t mind? I need to see the harbormaster regarding our berth and repairs, and I’d feel safer with an escort.”