by Tamara Moss
‘You have terrible lives!’ Mother said. ‘You will put Lintang in danger. You are a bad influence. She thinks you are good. Pah!’
Lintang had had enough. She wrenched her arm from her mother’s grip and spoke in her native tongue. ‘You made a deal with Captain Shafira. She needs to get past Nyasamdra, which means she needs me. Now stop wasting her time and let me go already.’
Mother stepped back as though Lintang had spat at her. Lintang’s stomach churned uncomfortably at her expression, but Mother got over it quickly enough. She scowled and snatched Lintang’s arm once more. ‘You don’t belong with these people,’ she said, speaking in Toli too. ‘This is your home. You’ll grow up and run a household and contribute to the village like everyone else.’
‘I don’t want to be like everyone else. I don’t want to be stuck here my whole life. I want to see the rest of the world. I want to have adventures.’
‘You’re not supposed to have adventures!’
Lintang was sick of arguing. Her bag was packed. The deal had been made. Mother wasn’t going to win this time. Besides, she didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of Captain Shafira any longer.
She pulled away from Mother and hugged Nimuel. ‘Goodbye, little brother. Look after the family for me.’
‘You’re not going,’ Mother said.
Lintang ignored her. She scanned the thick green forest behind the watching villagers. Bayani’s parents were on the shore, but he was nowhere in sight. He’d left long before the death of the malam rasha, and hadn’t returned. Why hadn’t he come to see her off? Was he angry because she’d helped kill a mythie?
‘If you see Bayani, say goodbye to him for me.’
‘I will,’ Nimuel said. ‘I think he’s just jealous that you get to go and he doesn’t.’ Then he reached up on tiptoes and whispered in her ear, ‘I’m jealous too.’
Lintang laughed and patted the top of his head. ‘I promise I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.’
She hugged Father and Elder Wulan, who both squeezed her harder than necessary. She hesitated at her mother.
‘Goodbye.’
Mother spun to Captain Shafira, her eyes still red. ‘You cannot take her,’ she said in Vierse. ‘She is my daughter.’
‘She’s more capable than you think,’ Captain Shafira said. ‘She’ll be fine.’
Mother’s chest shuddered with a sob. ‘You give up your most precious thing, and you will see it is not so easy.’
Lintang gaped at her. Most precious thing? Had she gotten her Vierse mixed up?
Captain Shafira hesitated. For a heart-jolting moment, Lintang thought she was about to change her mind. But then Captain Shafira withdrew a chain from beneath her shirt. Unlike Eire’s horrible fanged necklace, this one was beautiful. Red gems hung like teardrops from thick, golden links. A large, orange stone gleamed in the centre.
There was a faint murmur from the villagers, and Elder Wulan gasped.
‘Captain,’ Eire said in alarm, but Captain Shafira ignored her and unclasped the chain.
‘Take care of this,’ she said, holding it out to Mother. ‘Keep it safe, and I will keep Lintang safe.’
Mother stared fearfully at the necklace.
‘Take it,’ Captain Shafira said again. ‘You can give it back to me once Lintang comes home.’
‘Mother,’ Lintang said.
Mother didn’t move.
‘Mother,’ Lintang said again. ‘I thought I brought you shame.’
Mother swallowed, still gazing at the necklace. ‘You are my daughter.’ Tears wobbled in her eyes. In Toli, as if to prove there was no mistake, she said, ‘My most precious thing.’
Words vanished on Lintang’s tongue. Mother had hunted for the malam rasha last night, risking her life, not out of spite, but out of love. Why hadn’t she said anything? Why had she waited until now?
‘Captain,’ Eire said again, but Captain Shafira raised her free hand to silence her. She kept her attention on Mother.
Mother stepped tentatively across the sand and took the necklace. She held it up, examining the gems as if checking they were real. Lintang didn’t know what the necklace meant, but it seemed everyone else did. Elder Wulan had her hands clasped over her mouth. The villagers were silent and tense.
Mother clutched the chain to her chest. ‘You will drop Lintang in Zaiben?’
‘Not if you take the necklace. If you take it, I’ll accompany her all the way home.’
‘But then you will be stuck here again.’
‘I’ll find another Islander. Time won’t be important then. But it is now. Those sirens are out there, drowning ships. We have to leave.’
Mother glanced at Father before shifting her teary gaze to Lintang.
‘Very well,’ she said, her voice cracking as she turned away. ‘She may go.’
* * *
THE MYTHIE GUIDEBOOK
ENTRY #69: Lightning Bird (Allay)
The lightning bird (impulu) is a sky mythie. It is avian, although there are no official descriptions available. It is supposed to be a symbol of dominance.
Diet: Unknown.
Habitat: Unknown.
Frequency: Extremely rare.
Behaviour: Lightning birds follow ships. Unconfirmed reports say they are able to create lightning.
Eradication: Unknown.
Did you know? The only known lightning bird in existence is with the Winda, ship of the pirate queen.
Danger level: Unknown, proceed with caution.
* * *
Across the Reef
After hugging Mother, Lintang climbed onto the middle seat of the rowboat. Captain Shafira and Eire pushed off. Both of them took oars to row while Lintang twisted around to wave to the villagers. Only a few waved back. Father nodded solemnly. Mother had turned away from Lintang. Her shoulders shook. Nimuel jumped up and down, waving with both arms.
A strange feeling surged through Lintang. It was a powerful ache, like the time berry bugs had nested in Jojo, her toy blue-tailed howler, and Father had had to burn him. She’d stood by the fire, hardly six years old, watching Jojo crumble into ash. She would never again be able to cuddle him at night, or share him with Bayani, or flop his long arms from side to side to make her baby brother laugh. The loss had left a raw, empty space, and she felt that same space now as the people on the bay grew further and further away.
There was still no sign of Bayani.
She breathed through the pain and turned away from the island to focus on where she was going, rather than what she was leaving behind.
Past the reef lay an ocean of deeper blue and bigger swell. The Winda looked much larger than it had from the shore.
She couldn’t stop a grin from spreading at the sight of it. Her ache turned to flitters of excitement. The Winda, ship of the pirate queen. Unsinkable, uncatchable, unbeatable. It would take her across the Adina Sea, past Nyasamdra, towards adventure. It hardly seemed real.
Behind her, Eire grunted softly with effort. Captain Shafira sat in front, rowing backwards. Lintang could smell the leather of the captain’s boots and the faint scent of sweat. She didn’t dare look up at her face. If she looked too closely, she might discover it was only a dream, like the story of Tristin the priest. He had crossed the forbidden sea of stars into Ytzuam, only to be punished by Patiki and made to forget everything he had seen. Lintang wouldn’t forget anything of this journey. Not a single precious heartbeat.
She trailed her hands in the clear, cool lagoon. Iridescent fish darted between her fingers. They passed over the reef, where colourful coral brimmed with creatures. She’d been here with Father to see how he caught all the delicious seafood he brought home, but she hadn’t been as far as the Winda before. The excitement turned to panic, which turned to an urge to giggle nervously. How was it possible to feel so many emotions at once?
She stuck her tongue out to taste the air, which was heavy with salt. Her heart swooped as they dipped down a wave, off the reef, into the true ocean.
She looked back one last time. The villagers were nothing but bright dots on the white beach. She searched for Mother and Father and Nimuel and Elder Wulan, but she could no longer see them in the crowd. The ache returned, so she faced the front again and focused on the Winda.
The waves dropped lower and rose higher. Each time they descended, Lintang’s stomach would stay up longer than the rest of her body. She clung to the side of the rowboat, her hands already starting to cramp.
Dark shadows flashed below them. Mermaids? Sharks? Nyasamdra herself?
Talrosses circled above the ship like flies around a carcass. From here she could hear the clack of masts, the creak of timber, the squeak of pulleys. Waves rumbled against the hull, which had a pretty gold pattern on the side.
And then came an unnatural screech. She looked up, trying to match the sound to the birds above.
‘The lightning bird,’ Captain Shafira said as Lintang caught sight of a black dot soaring high above the talrosses.
‘What does it do?’ Lintang said. ‘Is it safe?’
‘Useless bird,’ Eire said between grunts. ‘It shrieks and makes skin bumpy from shivers.’
‘I thought it was supposed to have powers.’
No answer.
‘Does it at least make lightning?’
Eire shrugged.
Lintang pursed her lips, trying to hide her disappointment. She’d imagined the lightning bird to be as impressive as the pirate queen. Although, really, what could live up to a Goddess?
She dared a peek at the captain. From the stories she’d heard, she’d expected the most wanted pirate in the world to have a harsh face, perhaps scarred from all her fights, and wearing a constant scowl. Instead Captain Shafira’s face was smooth and unblemished, the curves of her brow and cheek round rather than angular, and often there would be a flash of amusement at her lips or in her eyes, as if she wanted to laugh, if only the world would give her a chance.
She heaved at the oars with the strength and rhythm of the ocean, her muscles defined even beneath her shirt. A few braids had escaped the red kerchief, curling like ribbons in the sea breeze. Lintang wished she had tied her own hair up. She kept getting hit in the eye with salty dark strands.
Time moved on, the sun grew hotter and they drew closer to the Winda.
Lintang had seen ships past the reef dozens of times, but she’d never realised how big they were. The Winda loomed so tall that she had to crane her neck to see the top.
When at last they reached the ship, ropes with hooks slithered down to attach to the rowboat, and they were winched up. She touched the Winda’s hull as they rose. The timber was damp beneath her hand, flecked with foamy sea spray. The wood had warped in places, lumpy but unchipped, and salt grains scratched at her palms.
‘Beautiful, isn’t she?’ Captain Shafira said.
Lintang tore her attention away from the wood. ‘Where did you get her?’
Captain Shafira touched the side as Lintang had done. ‘She found me.’
A woman of tremendous size reached down and dragged their rowboat up to the deck. Lintang stared at her. She was in a floral-pattern sarong that would’ve been better suited as a feast tablecloth.
‘Lintang, this is Zazi, our helmswoman, among other things. Zazi, meet Lintang.’
Zazi bared her remaining few teeth in a smile. Lintang managed a wobbly smile in return and accepted Zazi’s help out of the rowboat, her other hand clutching her sack of possessions. Eire and Captain Shafira climbed lithely after her. Rather than the choppy rocking of the rowboat, the deck of the ship rolled beneath Lintang in gentle, sweeping arcs.
‘Ah, good, most of you are here,’ Captain Shafira said.
Lintang turned away from Zazi to find a group of women crowded around. Two of them looked to be in their twenties. Another was a young girl, maybe fourteen. There was also an elderly lady with springy grey hair. She was the only one who wasn’t staring at Lintang. Her shawl and dress were long despite the heat of the day. She stumped forward with a wide smile for Captain Shafira. At the thudding for every second step, Lintang realised she had a wooden pole for her left leg.
‘Hello, Hewan,’ Captain Shafira said.
‘Welcome home, Captain,’ Hewan said, beaming. ‘We missed you.’
Captain Shafira patted her arm. To the others, she said, ‘This is Lintang. She’ll be getting us past the sea guardian.’
Lintang might have smiled or waved or said hello if they weren’t eyeing her suspiciously. The teenage girl actually scowled. She had short, shaggy hair, hem-torn pants held up by rope and a filthy shirt that would’ve revolted Bayani’s mother. Considering she was closest to Lintang’s age she could’ve been a friend, but from her expression it didn’t look as if it was going to work out that way.
Lintang resisted the urge to edge closer to Captain Shafira as the group continued to stare.
‘Have you unloaded barrels?’ Eire said, pushing past Lintang, at last breaking the silence. ‘I am hungry.’
The other women broke into chatter, leading Eire away as they discussed the supplies they had taken from Desa. No one gave Lintang a second glance.
Zazi secured the rowboat as Captain Shafira said to Lintang, ‘They’ll grow on you like barnacles, I promise.’
‘Captain.’ Someone else wandered over. ‘We’re ready to set sail when you are.’
Lintang’s eyes widened. This woman had an adult face and body, but she was shorter than Nimuel. She wore a knitted hat with thick ropes dangling over her hair, which gave the impression of a woolly octopus sitting on her head.
‘Lintang, this is Quahah, our navigator,’ Captain Shafira said. ‘Best person to have in charge when you’re sailing. I don’t know how I ever survived without her.’
Quahah waved Captain Shafira’s words away. ‘Aw, stop it. You make me feel a hundred masts tall.’
‘But you’re tiny,’ Lintang said.
Quahah glanced down at her body and gave a dramatic gasp. ‘So I am! Fish on a stick, thanks for letting me know. That might’ve been really awkward.’ She grinned at Lintang, whose face scorched when she realised she’d been rude. Barely a heartbeat on the ship, and already she’d made a mistake.
‘Sorry,’ she mumbled.
‘Quahah, please show Lintang to a cabin,’ Captain Shafira said. ‘Lintang, stay off the top deck so you don’t get in the way as we set sail.’
Quahah gave a casual salute and gestured for Lintang to follow her down a large hatch.
‘There are a lot of people in the world, kipper,’ Quahah said as they headed down the wooden steps. ‘Most will be different from what you know, but treat them with the respect they deserve, and you’ll do fine.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Lintang said again.
Quahah smirked. ‘I’m only giving you fair warning,’ she said, ‘because you’ll need it for when you meet our cook.’
Unexpected Crew
The staircase led down to a wide corridor lit by candles in frosted glass balls that were blackened from long exposure to smoke. Even so, patches of golden light shimmered on the wooden walls and ceiling like sunlight reflecting off a hidden body of water. The corridor rocked with the sea as they walked. It was an odd feeling.
Half-open doors revealed comfortable cabins with different types of beds. Most were variations of hammocks, although nothing like the simple woven ones from home. These were colourful or cushioned or hanging from the ceiling in the shape of an egg, or strung up like a swaying basket. One room had a sideways giant barrel carved open with a little ladder to get to the bedding inside. Another was simply a net that looked fun to bounce on.
Each room had a wooden chest to keep possessions, though few seemed to be used for that. Most cabins had clothes strewn over the lid, or boots in the corner, or weapons like swords and arrows and other unusual arte-facts hanging in brackets on the wall. In the room with the bouncy net, countless trinkets overflowed the chest and spilled across the floor in puddles of mess.
‘What’s that smell?’ Lintang said, inhaling deeply. ‘It’s like trees and rain, but it’s also … spicy?’
‘Euco oil rubbed onto the timber,’ Quahah said, patting the wall. ‘Does wonders for keeping away insects and rodents. It’ll stop you from being sick, too, considering you haven’t had the Curall.’
‘Curall?’
‘A medicine. Protects you against diseases. Ah – here’s a good room for you.’
Quahah stopped outside a cabin with a circular hammock, which had thick strings lifting the frame and joining at a single point in the ceiling, so it looked like an upside-down cone. A brass lantern hung from the wall, swaying with the rocking of the ship.
Lintang stared inside. ‘This? This whole thing? It’s mine?’
‘You’re not going to ask to share with me, are you? Because I’m a kicker.’
‘No, no,’ Lintang said quickly. ‘It’s just …’ She smiled, thinking of her tiny house. ‘I’ve never had a place to myself before.’
She took her wooden sword out of her sack. It was too short to fit on the brackets, but she was able to balance the hilt on one of the iron pegs.
‘You can dim the flame here,’ Quahah said, twisting a knob on the lantern.
‘You can control fire?’ Lintang tossed her sack in the wooden chest so she could try turning the knob herself. ‘Wow.’
Quahah laughed. ‘You have so much to learn, kipper. Now, are you right by yourself? I need to go back to the top deck.’
‘I’ll be fine.’ Lintang kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the hammock. It was big enough to stretch out. Her muscles enjoyed unfolding after spending so long in the rowboat.
She gazed around the room as Quahah left. It was all hers. No little brother to argue with, no Mother telling her to clean up after herself, no Father snoring the night away. Why had she felt sad to leave?
The hammock continued to sway as the ship bobbed – they must’ve started moving by now. Wood creaked around her, and the euco oil was a soothing smell. She might’ve fallen asleep if her mind wasn’t buzzing. She was really here, travelling with the pirate queen, leaving Desa to see the world. She was going to meet Nyasamdra. Mother and Father hadn’t met Nyasamdra. Ramadel, head of the warriors’ guild, hadn’t met Nyasamdra. Even Elder Wulan hadn’t met Nyasamdra, since she had only travelled to Tolus, and never left the island again.
