by Guy Antibes
The free expression of the buildings didn’t carry into the personalities of the Wailuan people. The relaxed way of life that villagers adopted throughout The Shards didn’t replicate in the capital. Pol could sense a tension that the people carried. There were fewer smiles, and people talked in quieter tones.
“I like it here,” Shira said. “It reminds me more of home.”
“None of this is like Botarra or Deftnis, even,” Pol said as they entered a market square. To Pol’s eyes, the stalls looked permanent.
Shira’s eyes lit up. “Loa would like this.”
“She might currently be enjoying the market.”
“Maybe,” Shira said as she fingered goods. “In Shinkya, we have our own style. It’s not as flamboyant as Wailua, but I can see parallels in it being more distinctive than the people.”
Pol noticed his heart beat a little faster with the anticipation of more information about her homeland.
“What parallels?” Pol asked.
She stopped and observed all the activity, but then she looked around as if she stood in another place. “It’s as if there is a set stage. It never changes and people act out their parts on the stage. No matter what the people do, the stage stays the same. If there is a regime change, the stage stays resolute, enduring a new set of rulers, and another, and another.”
“How often are regime changes in Shinkya?” Pol asked.
Shira seemed to return to the present. “Too many.” She walked on. The window into Shinkya had been closed.
Pol was fine with that. He really didn’t want Shira pining for Shinkya. Alone with boys and men from the Empire, Pol wondered how isolated she must have felt before Loa joined them.
He knew that he liked her and that she liked him, but his anxiety over her relationship with Loa still bothered him. Pol vowed not to be possessive. He felt the tendency to do that after they had defeated the three magicians, and that wouldn’t help their relationship, he thought.
Pol’s hand balled into a fist. This boy-girl stuff could overwhelm him. In fact, at times it had, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Why was he miserable, and Shira wasn’t? He shook off his thoughts and followed Shira deeper into the marketplace.
Shira wandered around aimlessly, but Pol wondered if she sought out a Shinkyan spy? She had found them in other places. Pol caught up to her.
“Trying to find a certain merchant?” Pol said into her ear.
She batted his face away. “Not so close,” she said. “I doubt I’ll see a Shinkyan here, not if the Circle magicians detected your disguise. The Shardians might not tolerate a Sister in their midst.”
“Sister?”
“Something like a Seeker,” Shira said. She walked ahead of him, ending the conversation again.
Pol wanted to follow up, but he felt fortunate to have gathered two Shinkyan tidbits in one morning.
She lingered at a clothing stand. “Can I buy a few things for Loa?” she said to Pol.
“Of course. My taste is awful. Why don’t you buy some items for my Sister,” Pol said.
Shira caught his message and flashed a smile at him. “Of course, we can’t forget your Sister.”
Pol had already converted the kitchen knives he had bought previously into Shinkyan-style throwing knives, so he didn’t need any weapons, but he did see a colorful oilcloth cloak in the back of the weapons tent.
“What is that?” he asked.
“It is a warrior’s cloak,” the man said, but Pol could tell the man lied.
“Who uses this kind of cloak?”
The merchant looked at Pol and the cloak. “It is for Circle swordsmen.”
“Pirates?”
The merchant shook his head. “High, very high-ranking Circle members. I shouldn’t even have it for sale.”
Pol released the spell. “I’ll buy it, but I want it wrapped up.”
“Of course,” the merchant said. “You aren’t Shardian, so I don’t suggest you wearing it in Wailua.”
Pol walked out of the tent. Shira had a number of packages that she carried. “I’ll take the ones for my Sister,” he said.
“You take Loa’s.” Shira looked at Pol’s purchase. “That doesn’t look like a weapon.”
“A souvenir. I already have a black hat and scarf. This sort of matches, but it isn’t appropriate to wear in the capital, the seller told me.”
Shira gave Pol a smile. “But you will model it when your Sister shows you her clothes?”
“I will,” Pol said. “Its time we headed for the docks.
They stopped a couple of times to buy bites of food that neither of them had tasted before. The cuisine of the Wailua was remarkably different from the villages. When they reached the southern end of the large square, Pol spotted the tops of masts farther down one of the streets.
“This way. Stay alert and make sure you’ve tweaked a shield.”
Shira nodded. “I won’t make the same mistake you made.”
Pol bit back a retort. At least he hadn’t fallen into a ward, he thought.
The docks were filled with people and wagons going from place to place. Cranes on massive, rolling platforms were busy with cargo loading and unloading. He hadn’t seen so much activity since they had first arrived on Volia at Port Molla in South Parsimol.
“Where would Fadden be?” Shira said, looking one way and then the other.
Pol noticed a cluster of magician hats. “Unfortunately, I think I know.”
He took Shira’s arm and then dropped it thinking it would look odd pulling another man that way. She followed him until they were in the back of a growing crowd.
Fadden and Loa were sitting on the ground in the midst of their belongings and packages, while four magicians stood over them.
One of the magicians wore a colorful cloak similar to the one Pol had just bought. Pol pulled Shira back into an alley. “I’m going to tweak a face that I know and confront that magician.”
Pol endured the pain while he unfolded the oilskin coat and put the hat and scarf on after he quickly put chainmail over his shirt. He pulled his sword out and walked as confidently as he could into the midst of the magicians.
“What is going on here?” he said.
One magician shrunk back, but not the man dressed like Pol.
“This is the Star.”
“Stop the spell, or I will,” Pol said.
Fadden and Loa collapsed on the stone pavement of the dock.
“Who are you to challenge me?”
“Akonai Haleaku is my name. Who are you to challenge me?” Pol said tauntingly. He had to take the man’s attention away from Loa.
The magician just grunted, and Pol could feel the pressure of his spell. He just laughed. “Did you think that would work on me? Who do you take me for?”
“The imposter that you are.” The magician drew a thick, curved blade. “Let us see who is real and who pretends.”
Pol made sure that Fadden and Loa recovered enough to move towards Shira, standing in her magician’s hat on the opposite edge of the crowd from the other magicians. He turned to her. “Make sure these people are taken care of,” Pol said and nodded. He hoped she would get shields on the pair. Pol still didn’t know if Fadden could create his own.
Pol heard footsteps behind him. He located the attacker and used a sip of magic to slide away from his friends, and parry the magician’s blow that would have struck him in the back. There truly didn’t appear to be any honor among the magicians.
He let the magician pace the fight. Pol dodged the man’s blows, but then the magician began to use crude tweaks to speed up his strokes, forcing Pol to use more sips as he fought.
“Your technique isn’t taught at the fortress,” the magician said between breaths, as he tried to combine a headache spell with added power to his stroke, forcing Pol back.
“I didn’t learn from the fortress, but from the Empire,” Pol said quietly. He added a strength tweak of his own, and his blow bent the magician’s blade.
“What?” the magician stared at his deformed sword, while Pol easily slid through and killed the magician.
Pol looked at the other magicians, sporting frightened looks. “Now, who is the imposter?”
They ran into the city.
“We need to find Paki and Kell immediately,” Fadden said.
“There they are.” Loa pointed to the pair of them running through the crowds.
“Quickly!” Kell said. “I’ve gotten passage. You’ll have to give up two of our tokens,” he said to Fadden. He turned his head. “Pol? You look like Akonai.”
Pol nodded. “I do and will continue to wear his face until we’ve left Wailua.”
They picked up their packages and loaded them back into the cart, then and rushed to follow Kell and Paki to a stout-looking ship. It didn’t sport Shardian rigging, but looked solid.
“This is a Bossomian vessel headed back to its home port, but it will stop at Bastiz, the Fistyran capital. They will take us that far,” Kell said, helping unload the cart. “Our stuff is already on board, but it leaves as soon as we board.”
“Then let’s go,” Fadden said, as they headed up the gangplank. Pol could hear the anchor chain rattling , and soon Pol jumped on board, following Loa. The ship drifted from the dock, beginning to get underway.
Pol looked at the dock and saw a group of black magician hats bob above the crowds. He used what magic was left to him to blow the ship further out into the harbor. He turned and saw the magicians gather at the edge of the dock. A few streams of fire emerged from the crowd, but they were well out of range.
A man dressed in a colorful uniform walked up to Pol. He bowed. “We have never had the honor of having a high-ranking Circle-Swordsman on board before.”
“You still don’t,” Pol said. He turned, taking off the hat, scarf, and oilskin coat. He changed his features back to his own and spoke with his back to the captain. “I am Pol Cissert from the Baccusol Empire. Thank you for letting us ride a ways with you. Fadden has the tokens you desire.” While he folded the coat and scarf.
Pol leaned with his back against the rail, energy gone again. He looked up at the billowing sails, using nature’s pattern to propel the ship, and assumed his real face.
Fadden gave the captain two tokens, and the captain brought over one of his Shardian-looking sailors, who examined them and nodded.
“You?” the captain looked confused as he gazed at Pol. “I thought you were older.”
“An illusion. I am a magician, but not from the Circle. I am as you see me,” Pol said.
“But you’re just a boy.”
Pol nodded and saw Shira smiling at him with her feminine face. “We are on a grand tour, but it has become much grander than we ever imagined,” Pol said.
~
Pol looked across the ship at Kell and Loa. They were engaged in a discussion about ships. Kell probably knew more than the rest of them combined, and Loa was a pirate’s daughter. He enjoyed seeing the Shardian girl laugh at Kell’s comments. Pol hadn’t thought Kell to be particularly glib with girls, but his eyes told him otherwise.
Shira put her arm in his and leaned against the railing, joining in Pol’s observance of the pair. She giggled just a bit. “I think we have another set of lovebirds on board.”
“Are we the first set?” Pol asked.
She nodded and squeezed his arm. “The original set.”
Fadden stood with the captain up on the poop deck discussing something or other. Paki was below decks. This ship was larger than the others on which they had recently sailed.
They were two weeks at sea and traveling just in sight of the last Shardian island far to their port, merely a smudge on the horizon. The captain boasted that his ship could outrun any Shardian pirate ship, but he said the two tokens that he now possessed gave him more peace of mind than any fare for passage.
“When are you going to model my Sister’s clothes?” Pol asked. “I hope they aren’t all moldy by now.”
Shira pinched his arm. “Not now. A ship is a poor place to show one’s charms,” she said.
“You have charms? Do Sisters have charms?” Pol said. Once they had spent a full day on board, he had been able to really relax for the first time since Shira was abducted in Demina. It seemed like a long time ago. Winter was over before they reached Wailua, but the mild climate of The Shards made him forget the seasons.
“I am not a Sister,” Shira said.
“But you said you were like a Seeker, and then you said Sisters are Seekers.”
Shira withdrew her arm. “You can’t assume everything is the same, but with different names. Sisters are spies. Spying is only part of what a Seeker does; that is what you told me.”
Pol nodded. “Seekers find things out, but sometimes not as a spies.”
“Namion, the betrayer, was a spy,” Shira said. “He was fomenting a revolution.”
“That doesn’t mean he betrayed us,” Pol said.
“He was about to abandon you in that border city,” Shira said. “Fadden told me when we were in Botarra. As far as I’m concerned, there isn’t much difference between abandonment and betrayal.”
With her tone of voice, Pol didn’t want to contradict her, but he felt there were degrees of ill-doing that separated the two. He would still have to tread carefully with Shira.
~
Pol decided to help the sailors, and he climbed up into the rigging. He enjoyed the exercise and felt better physically than he had for a while. He scanned the horizon and saw the tips of sails on the eastern horizon on the starboard side, but ahead of them.
“Pirates!” Pol yelled. “To Starboard, forward” He pointed towards the sails.
The captain looked up at Pol and turned to follow. “Lay more sails,” he told his first mate.
Pol helped with unfurling all the canvas that the ship held and felt the it pick up speed. He looked down to see sailors hoisting up ballistas, large crossbows from the hold. Firepots were lit on the deck, and the sailors put fuel in the pots that made them smoke, warning the pirates that their ships could be burned.
He climbed down as he noted the sails getting larger. If the ship had been at their side rather than in front of them, Pol figured they could outrun the pirates.
“There is another to Port!” a sailor called.
Pol saw the ship, but the Captain could probably outrun that one. He jumped to the deck and bolted down a ladder to retrieve his weapons. He decided to put on the black magician’s hat and the multi-colored cloak. The pirates would understand the peril they faced from a distance.
The first pirate ship was headed directly towards them. If they engaged, the other ship would arrive a little later.
Pol stood with the Captain and an armed Fadden.
“Those tokens better work,” the captain said. “If they are beholding to the Circle, all our lives are in danger.”
Pol glanced at Fadden, who nodded to him a little sheepishly. Evidently he had given the captain too much information. Pol looked at the pots, streaming with smoke, and then at the sailors ready to fire the thick bolts from the ballistas. Even Paki had come on deck, armed, but leaning against a mast, looking pale.
Now it was a waiting game. The captain had the wind mostly behind him and pointed the ship directly towards the advancing pirate ship. The unique pirate sails flapped a bit, struggling to maintain a heading. They suddenly veered off. Pol hoped that they couldn’t reach them, but a shifting wind changed their tack.
Shira climbed up beside him. “Loa is below,” she said. “She has the knife that you made for her.”
Pol could only nod. The coming battle made him more nervous than when he had fought on Borstall’s walls. The waiting frustrated him.
Suddenly, a yellow flag skittered up a mast.
“Yellow?” Fadden said.
“It’s a parley flag. We have to honor it. Be on your guard.”
Pol drew his sword and braced himself as the pirate ship closed. It drew alongside. The t
ension was palpable on the ship.
“We come to talk!” a voice reached them from a bullhorn.
The captain gave the helmsman instructions. “Come with me,” he said to Fadden. Pol and Shira followed.
“I come to talk.” Pol recognized Chief Holianai’s voice.
“We know him,” Fadden said.
The ships sided up to each other. The captain had his men send out padded poles to protect the side of his ship. The pirates extended a long gangplank with a rope railing attached, and Chief Holianai stepped out.
The waves caused the ships to rise and fall, but not in unison, and crossing looked dangerous. The Chief showed no fear as he made his way along the gangplank. A large wave hit Pol’s ship, and the gangplank flipped. The Chief fell off, but Pol was ready. He used his magic to lift the Chief up and let him land at the feet of the captain.
Pol collapsed as well. The Chief was a big man, and the teleportation took most of Pol’s strength. If the Chief didn’t come in peace, there was little help Pol could now provide.
“I hoped that it was you. We’ve been stopping ships for weeks,” the Chief said to Pol. “Did you save my daughter?”
Shira took off and disappeared into the hold. Moments later, Loa ran into her father’s arms.
“I had to see you one more time. I hoped you would make it,” he said. He kissed his daughter’s cheeks. The sailors looked on in disbelief.
After the two of them shared words and more embraces, the Chief turned to Fadden. “The Magicians Circle notified me that Koakai had been murdered by foreigners, and then another group of magicians arrived in Fauali saying the Star had been kidnapped. I honestly thought I was sending you to your deaths, but I had to make some attempt to save my Loa.”
“Koakai did his best to keep that from happening,” Shira said.
The Chief nodded. “I didn’t send him with you.” He grinned at his daughter. “Take her to Eastril, and make sure she is well treated,” he said.
