“Get on,” the captain growled, then touched his hat to the lady. He nodded once to Jekka and moved on ahead of them.
Charlyn extended her arm to Jekka, elbow pointed, and after a moment he understood that he was supposed to take it. He touched it and started to lead her on.
She laughed. “No, Jekka, like this.” And she slid his arm through hers. “A gentleman walks a lady on his arm.”
“I am a gentleman now?”
“You have a new medal now, don’t you, as one of the landholders of Kutnaar?”
Jekka looked down at his chest where the two ribbons that led to his medals crossed. “I do.”
“That makes you a gentleman,” she said, “though it’s all in the way a man, or male, in your case, presents himself. Did you like meeting the Custodian?”
“I had met him before,” Jekka said as they walked up the quay. “He is wise.”
“Praise be that it’s so. And he is generous.”
Jekka nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure why everyone was so impressed that the baron had granted titleship of the island to himself and Kalina, which meant a percentage of all treasures found upon the isle. It had been granted to him by the dying construct. But then, perhaps other humans were just as skeptical about the honor of their kind as he himself had been.
A less far-minded ruler would have set immediately to wholesale looting, but the baron had sent in scholars, Pathfinders, and historians, along with artists, to record the appearance of the works, magicians to search for magical secrets, and soldiers to protect from more dangers. It was a project, the baron had told him, likely to last at least a generation, and the conversations had involved the imbibing of sweet wine and the awarding of another medal, which Jekka had rather liked.
If it was not the outcome he had wanted, he at least was content.
“Mirian wrote that your cousin found something in her researches. She didn’t say what it was, but she sounded excited.”
“Ah, yes. Kalina thinks there are other gates where we might find cities of our people. The text was … badly rendered? I’m not sure how you would say it. But with a little work, we might find them yet.”
Charlyn smiled. “That’s wonderful news, then!”
Jekka’s head bobbed in imitation of a human nod. He still didn’t think he quite managed that right. “Yes,” he said. “There’s no telling what we’ll find, though. Or if we’ll need another dragon’s tear. The Custodian said the one Ivrian had is dangerous to use again. It’s cracked.”
They’d arrived at the end of the quay.
“It’s good that you still have a chance,” Charlyn said. “I’m looking forward to meeting your cousin.”
“Yes. You will like her. Your husband is working up near the great dome. They’ve found a chamber that’s very interesting to him. Do you wish me to take you there?”
“Perhaps. I’d like you to give me a tour. Perhaps tomorrow. I’d hoped to speak with Mirian this evening.”
“As she has hoped to speak with you.”.
They passed the sentries and moved on toward the road leading up to the ruins of the great dome. The entire way was lighted with paper lanterns now, and soldiers were stationed every twenty feet or so. They didn’t look happy about it, and Jekka had been given to understand they’d prefer to keep all exploration to the daytime, but the explorers were too fascinated to stop. They were all working long shifts.
Jekka and Charlyn started up the stairs. By lantern light two artists were setting down the intricate carvings to paper. They and some bored-looking soldiers made way for them.
“And Ivrian?” Charlyn asked. “How is he?”
“He’s recovering,” Jekka said.
She felt Charlyn’s eyes upon him. “You didn’t really answer.”
“It’s because I’m not sure how to describe his health. He’s not quite the same. Jeneta monitors him, of course. I think she wishes to become his mate.”
Charlyn laughed lightly.
They neared the head of the stairs, where there was another cluster of lights. Here, under one long portico, Mirian and her salvage team had erected their own tents, and she now descended, arms spread. Gombe rose from the table, setting aside a napkin, and Jekka oversaw the greetings. Mirian thanked him and stepped away with her sister.
“We saved you some wine,” Gombe said.
That pleased him. “That was kind of you.”
“Did you ever think you’d own your own city?” Gombe encompassed the city with a sweep of his arm.
“No.” Jekka stared down at the row of lights. Despite the squads of scholars, vast sections of the ruins remained unexplored and dark, and he found himself trying to imagine what it would have been like to breach the Veil and find living lizardfolk.
Gombe clapped him on the shoulder and he just managed not to raise his frill, because he understood this as a friendly gesture. The human grinned at him and offered him wine in a bottle. Rendak climbed up from his own chair and raised a glass.
“Here’s to our friend,” Rendak said, “Lord Jekka of Kutnaar.”
And they drank together.
Jekka lowered the bottle, looked at the smiling bearded man. “I wish my brother might have lived to stand here beside us. He would have been very happy here.” He stared out at the city, imagining what that might have been like.
Gombe cleared his throat. “You’re a celebrity now. People will be clamoring for Ivrian to get the story written so they can learn all the behind-the-scenes details.”
“Right you are,” Rendak said.
“There’s not much to it.” Jekka sipped only lightly as he looked out across the darkened streets. “It’s about someone who risked the lives of his friends to seek out a family that was already dead.” He turned to him. “But it’s also a story of friendship.”
“It’s a heroic adventure,” Rendak said. “With you as the star. All it needs is a little romance.” He cleared his throat. Jekka wasn’t sure, but he had a feeling Rendak now regretted his words.
“He was speaking metaphorically,” Gombe said. “A hero tale always has a romance in it, but all we’ve got is a rich snob with a pretty wife and a pretty cleric swooning for a fop.” Gombe sighed at that.
“I see,” said Jekka, because he thought that was what he was supposed to say.
Once more he suffered the hand of a human as Gombe tightly squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll find some more of your folk out there, Jekka. I know we will.”
Now he understood. Gombe, talking of him as the hero, thought he should have found a mate by the end of the adventure, and felt badly for bringing it up.
“Let us have more wine. Among my people, we tell the stories of our ancestors by the nights. Do your people do that?”
“Sometimes,” Rendak answered.
“Sometimes we trade stories about stupid things we’ve done.” Gombe grinned. “Like that time Rendak bought that goat to get in with that pretty Mulaa girl.”
“Hey!” Rendak objected.
“A goat?” Jekka asked. “What was funny about the goat?”
“The way it happened,” Gombe said, “was like this…”
And Jekka sat back and listened as his human friend spun his tale, under the stars.
33
A DRINK BETWEEN FRIENDS
MIRIAN
She sat with her sister on the highest stair in the city, just outside the ruin of the great dome.
Charlyn patted her knee. “It’s lovely. It’s amazing.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“I could never have done what you’ve done with your life,” Charlyn was saying. “The adventure. The constant danger.”
“I don’t know,” Mirian countered. “It seems to me you’ve held up pretty well.”
Her sister looked sidelong at her. “Do you think we’d have been close if we’d grown up together?”
Mirian doubted that. There were more than fifteen years between them. “There’s no point worrying about it, is there? Bu
t we can try now. Tradan’s going to be busy here for a long time and I’ll be working with him. I’m sure he’d be glad for any extra help.”
Charlyn laughed. “Do you mean me, helping in the ruins?”
“You can’t tell me this place doesn’t fascinate you.”
“It does,” Charlyn admitted. “But it’s sad as well. I think about poor Jekka. How closely related is he to his cousin? Could they marry?”
“He hasn’t mentioned it, and I haven’t brought it up.” Despite their closeness, it seemed an extremely sensitive topic.
“I quite like him,” Charlyn said. “I see now why you welcomed him into your family.”
“For a long time,” Mirian said haltingly, “I thought the only way I could have a family was by gathering folk around me I liked. Blood ties aren’t always what they’re cracked up to be. But I was wrong to casually dismiss them so easily.”
Charlyn squeezed her knee. Mirian wondered where she’d picked up the habit. It wasn’t something their father had ever done. “Maybe I should have tried harder,” Charlyn said softly. “But father was so bitter over the divorce. It was much easier to stay away from him. And it seemed as though we were busy with our separate lives.”
There was a burst of laughter from off to the left; Mirian recognized Gombe’s deep-throated chuckle and heard him say something about a bucket of yellow paint and a goat and realized he was telling the story of the goat and the stowaway ham and the pretty harlot. Rendak’s voice sputtered with mock indignation.
“Maybe we can try again,” Mirian said.
“I’d like that.”
“There you are,” said a familiar voice. Mirian and Charlyn both turned and Ensara stopped short. He lifted a curiously long-necked bottle.
“Ah—Lady ven Goleman. I didn’t know. That is…” He cleared his throat.
“You’re looking for Mirian, I take it?” Charlyn rose gracefully.
Ensara bowed. “Yes, m’lady. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“That’s quite all right.” Charlyn looked down at Mirian, watching her carefully to try to gauge her feelings.
Unfortunately, Mirian wasn’t quite sure of them herself. She was happy things were off on a better tack with her sister than they’d ever been, but she still wasn’t entirely sure what to say to her, and she honestly didn’t know what to think of Ensara.
Charlyn nodded to Ensara. “I was just leaving to ask a man about a goat,” she said.
“A goat?” Ensara asked.
But Charlyn didn’t explain. “I’ll see you in the morning, Sister,” she said. “And I’ll talk with Tradan about assistance.” With that she turned and proceeded around the curving walkway toward the sound of Gombe’s laughter.
Ensara glanced after her, then down at Mirian. Apparently deciding that further inquiry might be impolite, he raised the bottle. “I brought this for you.”
He handed her the bottle and set his hands to his hips as he contemplated the setting sun. “I’m not sure I could get tired of this view.”
Mirian inspected the gift, stunning blue glass with a tapered, curving neck. Lizardfolk work. “Wine?” She raised an eyebrow. Anything in that bottle would have given up the ghost centuries before.
“Oh, it’s vinegar now, I’m sure. But the bottle’s lovely. I found it in a house near the docks.” Ensara sank down beside her, hands on his knees. He reached inside his vest and pulled out a flask, uncapped it. “Here’s something we can actually drink.” He took a long swig and passed it on.
“Is this the quiet drink you told me you’ve been after?”
He sighed a little. “It’s not what I pictured, no. But then, nothing’s been what I planned for a long, long time.” He spoke slowly as she put her lips to the flask. “See, I talked myself into thinking that if I drew the line in one place I was a gentleman. But I kept letting other people move the line for me.”
She tasted the lukewarm metal, then felt the warm burn of a smooth rum. “That’s not bad.” She passed it over.
He indicated the docks with a nod of his chin. “I bought it off one of the officers the Custodian brought with him. It’s not what I planned, but—”
“What did you plan?”
He laughed shortly and leaned back against the stairs. “More like a daydream than a plan. You have to actually work for a plan, you know?” He read her silence as a prompting. “I figured we’d be sitting on a balcony in Eleder, overlooking the harbor, at sunset. The ships would be in, and the sky would be lit up with stars, and there’d be folks done up in proper garb catering to us. And you and I could just sit and talk.”
“Just talk?”
He nodded. “Aye. About whatever you’d like.”
“What I’d like,” she said, “is some spiced Thuvian ale.” She took the flask back and took another bolt.
Ensara laughed. “Well, Captain, you can probably buy yourself a shipful with your percentage of this particular find. Can’t say as I’ve ever shared a drink with such a wealthy woman.”
“I didn’t know wealthy women felt this tired. Or sad.”
“It’s the way of things, isn’t it?” Ensara stared out at the sea. “Life rolls on. Sometimes it takes your mates, sometimes it takes your fortune. And sometimes it drops little treasures in your lap. Like that sunset there. Even if I didn’t have pearls as big as my thumb in every pocket, I’d be rich tonight. I’ve got a fine drink and a fine view, and fine company. That’s something I’ll not be forgetting.”
“So you’ve been at the Custodian’s treasures?”
“Jekka let me have them,” he said, defensively. “In payment for my help. I told him he didn’t need to do that, but he said he thought I needed it.”
She hadn’t meant to suggest he’d stolen it, so she gentled her voice: “Do you have plans for that money?”
“I’ve been thinking on that. You spend so much time just working on ways to get it, it’s hard to know what you do when it’s finally in your hands. Buy a really fine ship? Settle down on land somewhere? I don’t know. What about you?”
“I’ve been wondering that myself.” She set elbows on the stairs behind her. “This is a salvager’s dream. My crew and I may never need to dive again. And I’m pretty sure the baron would knight every one of us if I asked him. I probably will,” she said with a smile.
“But what do you want to do?”
“Later I’m going to see if I can help Jekka and Kalina find survivors of their clan. They have a few more leads. For now, I’m going to spend some time exploring these ruins with my family and my friends.”
Ensara nodded slowly. “Captain,” he said very softly, “is it too forward of me to ask if you number me among them?”
She decided her answer as she spoke it. “You may call me Mirian.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’m indebted again to Rich Howard for providing me with a wealth of details about diving, and am especially grateful to the long and careful manuscript critique of my friend Chris Jackson. He steered me into far safer and more accurate waters, not just with maritime matters, but character and motivation as well. If there remain technical inaccuracies as regards to seafaring or diving, the fault is mine alone! I would once again like to thank James Sutter for encouraging and supporting this tropical adventure, and bow in respect to Christopher Paul Carey for well-considered editorial direction and numerous tweaks that improved the story.
GLOSSARY
All Pathfinder Tales novels are set in the rich and vibrant world of the Pathfinder campaign setting. Below are explanations of several key terms used in this book. For more information on the world of Golarion and the strange monsters, people, and deities that make it their home, see The Inner Sea World Guide, or dive into the game and begin playing your own adventures with the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Core Rulebook or the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Beginner Box, all available at paizo.com. Those interested in learning more about Sargava specifically should check out Pathfinder Player Companion: Sargava, The Lost Co
lony, or explore it themselves in the Serpent’s Skull Adventure Path.
Avistan: The continent north of the Inner Sea, on which Cheliax and many other nations lie.
Avistani: Of or related to the continent of Avistan.
Bandu Hills: Mountain range in central Sargava.
Bas’o: Nomadic tribe native to Sargava, known for its skilled warriors and hunters.
Boggards: Froglike humanoids that live in swamps and often attack other sentient races.
Chelaxian: Someone from Cheliax, either ethnically or by legal citizenship.
Cheliax: A powerful devil-worshiping nation located in south-western Avistan, of which Sargava was formerly a colony.
Chelish: Of or relating to the nation of Cheliax.
Colonial: Sargavan slang term for a Sargavan citizen of Chelish heritage, or anyone in Sargava’s primarily light-skinned ruling caste.
Crown’s End: Sargavan port city north of Eleder, known for its corruption and rampant smuggling activity.
Custodian: Alternative formal title of the Baron of Sargava, the nation’s ruler.
Desna: Good-natured goddess of dreams, stars, travelers, and luck.
Desperation Bay: Large bay around which Sargava wraps.
Devils: Fiendish occupants of Hell who seek to corrupt mortals in order to claim their souls.
Druids: Those who revere nature and draw magical power from the boundless energy of the natural world (sometimes called the Green Faith, or the Green).
Eleder: Capital of Sargava and thriving port city specializing in shipping raw resources north to more powerful nations.
Free Captains: The leaders of the Shackles’ legendary pirate bands, paid by Sargava’s government to keep Cheliax from retaking Sargava.
Garund: Continent south of the Inner Sea, renowned for its deserts and jungles, upon which Sargava lies.
Halflings: Race of humanoids known for their tiny stature, deft hands, and mischievous personalities.
Ijo: Coastal tribe of native Sargavans known for their skill with boats and fishing.
Inheritor: Iomedae.
Inner Sea: The vast inland sea whose northern continent, Avistan, and southern continent, Garund, as well as the seas and nearby lands, are the primary focus of the Pathfinder campaign setting.
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