The Ship of Tears: (The Legend of the Nine: Part One) (The Eastern Kingdom Chronicles Book 8)

by T. J. Garrett

  Trapper whined.

  “It’s all right boy, don’t worry. I’ll stop looking at it.”

  Trapper pulled in close and lay his head on her lap. He was warm. Nini had been right, the cold did not seem to bother him at all. Indeed, he seemed a lot healthier since they landed on the island – likely all that running about.

  “I’m not going to the ship today,” she told him. “And when I do, I’ll be with a lot of other folk. You need not worry.”

  Trapper let out a soft growl. His lip rose to show sharp teeth.

  Elspeth thought it was talk of the ship that was bothering him, but then she heard a twig snap.

  Trapper jumped up. Then, barking, he turned toward the trees, where a man in a filthy hunter’s cloak was just now walking into the camp.

  “Who are you?” Elspeth said. She looked around. She was the only one in camp; the others had all gone off in search of provisions. All but Nell, that was, and Elspeth was not going to call on her for help; the poor woman was a head shorter than she was, and thin as a stork.

  “No worry, miss,” the man said. “It’s me, Coln. Coln Brewin?”

  “Coln?” Elspeth said. “What happened to you? Why are you here?”

  Coln laughed. “Don’t go worry about me, miss. I’m supposed to look like this. Camouflage, you know? Was Damari’s idea. I’m up here looking for the Red Dragon.”

  “The what?” Elspeth said. She glanced around their camp, then up toward the hills west of Raff. “Have you been in the Raekawn, Coln? Are you mad? And what do you mean, it was Damari’s idea? Where is she?”

  Coln laughed. “That’s a lot of questions in one breath, miss. Can I share the fire? Maybe a nice cup of tea? I haven't had tea in an age. You make me a cup, and I’ll tell you all about it. Long as you promise not to tell anyone.”

  Elspeth gapped at the man – she could not believe he was here; and Damari? What was all that about? She waved him forward. “Of course, come sit down. I’ll make you some tea.”

  She waved him forward, but Trapper would not budge.

  “Let him by, boy,” Elspeth said.

  Still growling quietly, Trapper stepped to the side.

  “He’s got big,” Coln said, edging his way past Trapper and sitting by the fire. “He were barely up to your knee last time I saw him.”

  “Yes,” Elspeth said. “He surprised us all. But tell me, what’s all this talk about a red dragon?”

  “The Red Dragon,” Coln corrected. “Damari wondered if he might be somewhere around the valley. That, or off around Atria.” Coln laughed. “I told her, if she were over in Atria – the Red Dragon, I mean – she would have to find someone else to go look for her. But I didn’t mind a trip up here. Karlas brought me. You remember him, don’t you? The little drin what Brea saved. Only he aint so little no more. He’s over by the pond. Thought it best to leave him, what with, you know…?” He nodded at Trapper. “Anyway, Damari asked me to come look, and here I am. Sorry about the clothes, but if any a them Raekawn get a whiff of human, they’ll go crazy trying to find me. Smells a bit, don’t it?” he said the last while plucking at his filthy coat.

  “It does a bit,” Elspeth agreed. “But more like forest than smelly human. How long have you been up here?”

  “Me? Well, let me see now. It’s gotta be a fortnight. Hard to keep track, what with all the snow and dark skies. But, yes, I think about a fortnight, maybe a bit longer. We been up around Dragon Mount mostly. Not on the mountain, you understand – the valley. Been up and down the Drift a few times, and across as far as Sugal.” His mouth turned up in a wrinkled grimace. “No sign a no Red Dragon, sad to say. We were thinking a going home, when Karlas smelled you lot. Well, he smelled the fire, so I thought I’d come and have a look. Imagine my surprise when I see you sitting there. You here for the ship?”

  He said the last in such a casual tone, Elspeth very nearly did not grasp his meaning.

  “How do you know about the ship?”

  Coln shrugged. “It been floating up and down this stretch of coast since before I arrived. And I do mean, floating. I’ve never seen a sail of any sort. Odd that, don’t you think? Still, it moves well enough when it wants to, which is sort of peculiar, don’t you think?”

  Elspeth smiled at the old man. “Now you come to mention it,” she said.

  How could they be so stupid? Not one of her group had wondered how the Tower Ship had moved with no sail. And never mind move – even now, by that little island, in all that wind and snow, the Tower Ship had not shifted an inch, not even swayed to the side. How could that be?

  “You know,” Elspeth said. “Do you think Karlas would mind taking me over for a look. At the ship, I mean, not look for the dragon.”

  Coln had already started shaking his head. “Makes him dizzy,” the old man said. “He came close once, and nearly lost his wits. Would have flew right into the island, were I not there to guide him back. Say’s it’s bad air.” Coln pointed up. “I’m surprised you aint seen it for yourself.”

  Elspeth looked in the direction Coln was pointing. There was nothing there.

  “What are you pointing at?” she asked.

  “Just keep your eyes up,” he said. “You’ll see.”

  Sure enough, half a minute later, Elspeth saw a… shudder in the clouds. For an instant, a line appeared. Too faint to notice if you were not looking for something, but it was definitely there.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Big circles,” Coln said. “Goes all the way around the ship. And that aint all.” He pointed out to sea. “You can’t see it now, but if it were clear, you’d see the waves circling the ship, too. Not big waves, little ones. But they’re there, I can promise you that.” He pointed up toward the clouds. “They’re easier to see when you’re up there. You know, flying?”

  “I believe you,” Elspeth said. “What could be causing it, do you think?”

  Again, Coln laughed. “Don’t ask me, that’s magic stuff, aint it? Better off asking the witches, or maybe Brea might know. You could ask her; she should be back by now, so I hear. You got a lier’sinn, have you?”

  “No,” Elspeth said. “Unfortunately not. But that’s a good idea. And I’ll ask Olivia as soon as she gets back. Maybe she will have heard of something like this.”

  Coln shrugged. “Maybe, but better to ask Brea. Don’t wanna be sharing all your secrets with the palace, do you?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Oh, nothing. It’s just, you know? All the trouble with Lord Breen and the Krassian ambassador and what not. You share with the palace, and the gods alone know who’ll hear your secrets. Best keep away, if you ask me. Least until they sorted themselves out a bit.”

  Elspeth nodded. She supposed that made sense. And besides, Vierdan had his chance to help; if he missed out on a few secrets, then he had nobody to blame but himself.

  “I best get off,” Coln said. “I think your friends are coming back.” He stood and turned toward the trees.

  “Must you go?” Elspeth asked. “Stay for supper, you know you are more than welcome, Mr Brewin.”

  “Ha,” Coln said. “Mr Brewin, indeed. Not even Mrs Brewin calls me that. No, Elspeth. I think I best go. No need to complicate matters.”

  Elspeth frowned up at him, but he just did a passable bow, then disappeared into the forest – just like that, like the visit was no more extraordinary than bumping into someone outside the bakers.

  “Hello in the camp?” a voice said.

  “Hello, Nini,” Elspeth said. “All clear.”

  “You know, you could call me Jak?” Nini said, as he walked into the clearing. “I have known for…”

  He trailed off, sniffing the air.

  “What’s that smell?” he asked. “You been cutting wood?”

  “No,” Elspeth said. “It’s likely Trapper. He’s been chewing branches; I think he got some meat stuck in his teeth.”

  Nini nodded absently.

  “Anyway,” he s
aid. “Good news, Juran has found us a cook.”

  Elspeth looked down at the campfire. “Why do we need a… Oh, you mean a cook from the Tower Ship. Are you sure that’s a good idea? How do you know we can trust the woman?”

  “The man,” Nini said. “The cook is a man. And it doesn’t matter if we can trust him, that’s not why I say it is good news – the cook was looking for an assistant, and Morn has got the job.”

  “Morn?” Elspeth said. “I’m not sure that is any better than trusting the cook. You weren’t here when we escaped the old house; Morn was a nervous wreck. You put him on that ship, and he is likely to break under the pressure. Better if Juran took the job.”

  Nini shrugged. “Morn was there when the cook asked for an assistant down at the inn, and Morn is the one who put his hand up. Good fortune, I’d say. And never mind his nerves; he will be in the kitchens, away from Zill and the Kel’mau. Better still, he will have to come to Raff for supplies, which means we will have regular updates and news about the ship’s layout. He may even be able to tell us why she built that tower, and why she put it on a ship.”

  Elspeth glanced up at the clouds, at the faint ring Coln had shown her.

  “What is it?” Nini asked.

  “I may know why she chose to build the tower on a ship,” Elspeth said.

  She glanced over her shoulder, at where Coln had not long since disappeared back into the forest. Should she tell Nini about the visit from the old man? It had been such a coincidence, meeting up with Coln like that. And could this Red Dragon he was looking for have something to do with their mission? Likely not; Coln was working for Damari, and the Lebaran knew nothing of Zill.

  Or does she? Elspeth wondered. Too much of a coincidence that Coln should be here right when we are looking for the ship.

  “You were saying?” Nini said.

  “Err, sorry. What was that?”

  “The ship,” Nini said. “You were going to tell me why Zill built the tower.”

  “Oh yes, sorry.” She pointed up toward the clouds. “Can you see that ring? It’s hard to make out, but it is there.”

  Nini looked up for a long time before finally nodding. “Yes,” he said, “it’s like someone stirred the clouds with a spoon, but very slowly. What do you think it is?”

  “I think it is the reason Zill chose this location. There is something out there – some sort of power – and she needed to build the ship in order to place herself in just the right place.”

  “Maybe,” Nini said. “Or maybe it is the ship causing those rings.”

  “I don’t think so,” Elspeth said. “Think about it, what probable reason could Zill have for building such a huge ship, never mind the tower? It has been bothering me since Nell told us about the thing. The only explanation I can come up with is that she built the ship to take the tower somewhere she could not reach by land – and those rings are that somewhere. She has placed her tower right where it needs to be.”

  Nini was nodding. “Yes, that does make sense. But what is out there?”

  “I have no idea,” Elspeth admitted. “But I’ll bet it has something to do with the wet witches, which means it will have something to do with the Power.”

  Nini sighed. He sat by the fire. “Any tea left?” he asked.

  Elspeth poured him a cup, and they sat for a while staring out at the faint shadow which was the Tower Ship.

  Finally, Nini said, “I don’t doubt you are right, she built that ship to put that tower right where it needs to be, but that only answers one question – why did she build the tower? We need more. Maybe Morn will find something.”

  “Maybe,” Elspeth said.

  Or he will get himself killed, she added for herself.

  * * *

  “It’s just a pantry,” Olivia said. “And a smelly pantry, at that. I can see no secret door.”

  “At the back,” the shopkeeper said. “You have to push to the left. Find the little hole.”

  Olivia stepped deeper into the dark space. Shelves filled one wall. Most were empty, but she could make out a few ancient glass jars which had likely last seen the light of day back when the Juno Penarch still held the throne. She had to step carefully to avoid the boxes piled on the floor, and be careful of nails protruding from the badly repaired wall. Absently, she wondered if sending York to find this secret store might not have been the better idea – he had volunteered.

  She fumbled for the secret door, and felt the cleft of what might be a hidden hinge. Slowly, she felt across to the other side of the flat panel and found a small hole. She pushed two fingers through the hole and pulled the door to the left.

  Nothing.

  She pushed, and the door opened a crack, hinges squeaking.

  “That’s it,” the shopkeeper said. “You might have to give it a kick.”

  Olivia put her shoulder to the door and heaved.

  At first, there was little movement. Then the door gave up its struggle to stay closed and swung wide. Olivia stumbled through, into a room half again as big as the shopkeeper’s store.

  “I’m in,” she said, panting. “But I can’t see anything. Bring that lantern, York.”

  York came through into the secret room, kicking the boxes to one side as he went, the shopkeeper following.

  “Here we are,” the old man said. “Didn’t I tell you it were a treasure trove?”

  Juran, who had been eying the leatherwork in the shop, poked his head in. “I don’t know about treasure, Mr Veeder, looks like a load of old rocks to me.”

  The secret room was a mud wall on three sides, built into the hill the leatherwork shop sat in front of. Around the walls, three low benches filled the room, with only a narrow space to walk between. Juran was right; the benches were covered in rocks of all sizes and colours, from deep blue to bright yellow. The storekeeper picked one up.

  “Shyma crystals,” he said, raising a dark green rock to York lantern. “More than you’ll find in one place anywhere in the known world, I guarantee it. You smash one of these, and no one will be using the Voice for fifty paces in any direction. The blue ones are the strongest; you might get a hundred paces out of one of those, if the wind is right, but even the yellow will cut a room full of witches from the Voice for a good hour. I guarantee it. And if they were to breathe any of the dust, it’ll be more than an hour before they can do anything with the Power. I gua—”

  “Yes, you guarantee it,” Olivia interrupted. She suddenly felt like running back to camp. The secret room was full of dust. Was she hurting herself by standing there? “A few of the blue ones should be enough. What do you think, Juran?”

  “I say, take what we can carry. Shyma crystals are rare, and we might not have the opportunity to come back for more.”

  Olivia covered her mouth with her hand and tried to breathe softly through her nose. “I suppose,” she said. “You and York gather what you can. I best not touch any of them.”

  “Told you to stay outside,” York said.

  Olivia ignored the comment, but did make for the door.

  Mr Veeder’s outstretched hand stopped her. “Err, we have not decided on a price, ma’am. This lot took a lifetime to collect; I can’t just give them away.”

  “Arrange that with Juran,” Olivia said. “I’m already late for another meeting.”

  She tried to pull away, but he did not let go of her arm.

  Veeder nodded at York. “He said you were the one with the purse, ma’am. How can I arrange payment with him when you got the purse?”

  Olivia wanted to snatch her arm away, run for the door. What was all that dust doing to her Power? York was right, she should have stayed outside.

  “Very well,” she said. “But can we do our business outside. I do not much like tight spaces, and it is hard to breathe in here.”

  Veeder nodded. But before they could leave, Juran said, “What about these arrows? Do we want any of them?”

  He raised an arrow tipped with blue stone.

  Olivia blinked
through the thick layer of dust. “Can’t you make your own arrows?” she said.

  “Yes, but… Well, these are already made up.”

  Olivia sighed, then regretted taking a deep breath. “If you insist,” she told Juran. “But no more than ten; I’m not made of money. Shall we?” She said the last to Veeder.

  She did not wait for his nod, she was out of the secret room, through the shop, and standing under the covered porch before she realised the shopkeeper was not following.

  “Now what is he doing?” she whispered. “He best not find something else to sell.”

  This was a bad idea, she decided. Yes, it made sense to have a weapon which could neutralise the wet witches – stop them doing whatever it was Zill had them working on – but with the way the shyma crystals worked, they were as likely to injure themselves as stop the wet witches. Elspeth and Anooni would not thank her if they discovered their Voice had deserted them just when most needed.

  “You will have to order the crystals used only on the ship,” she told herself, “and keep the dust confined to the lower decks.”

  Thinking about that, maybe they should have bought the yellow ones; at least they could aim those to only affect a small area.

  Olivia had no doubt how those crystals worked. It would be the same story as using kalli root– it did not rob the witch of her Power, just robbed her of the ability to find it when needed.