The farthest moored airship, one which had come in to Skycove not long after The Kraken, had a longer, narrower gas bag than any other airship Beata had ever seen. Its color was a medium gray with some kind of round design painted on the forward portion. The ship was sleek, long and narrow, its sides painted the same color as the gas bag, but fading into darker gray toward the keel.
Squinting, again unable to see far enough, Beata asked, “What’s painted on the front of that last one? It’s almost like a mandala, but...” Trailing off, she shook her head, at a loss.
“That’s The Lamprey,” Copper said in a hard voice, peering through the spyglass, lips pinched tight.
Beata felt an unpleasant lurch in her stomach. The Lamprey. The airship that attacked the transport ship upon which she and her mumma had been traveling to see Beata’s papa. Somewhere on that ship was a man who’d not feel very kindly disposed toward the girl who’d stabbed him. She was suddenly relieved she wasn’t going to be allowed to go down into Skycove.
She was vaguely aware that several others looking out over the railing muttered in unhappy, even hostile tones upon hearing Copper mention The Lamprey, and some shuffled about to try and get a better look.
Amid the shuffling, Temmin and Saramay appeared beside Beata, Saramay’s left shoulder pressing into Beata’s right, and Temmin protectively behind them both.
Meanwhile, Copper, still standing on Beata’s left side, belatedly answered her query. “The design is a lamprey mouth, rows of teeth in a circular maw. A lamprey is a fish that attaches itself to bigger fish and feeds off them by boring a hole in their hide and sucking their blood.” She wrinkled her nose a bit in the telling, clearly displeased with the subject. “Here,” she said quietly after a moment’s pause, offering the spyglass to Beata.
Beata took the device cautiously and held it up to one eye. With it, she could see a tiny portion of the far side of the cove amazingly clearly, and she swept the spyglass slowly over until The Lamprey was in view. The image on the gas bag was, indeed, a circle filled with several rows of inward-curving teeth around a very dark red center. It was disturbing indeed, and she grimaced a bit herself. Some of The Lamprey’s crew were moving about on its deck, and she moved the spyglass to examine some of them.
One stood near the bow of the airship, holding a spyglass of his own, and Beata involuntarily gasped when she saw the distant man was looking at The Kraken—possibly right at Beata—at the same time she was looking at him. She hurriedly handed the spyglass back to Copper. “They’re looking at us!” she whispered, immediately feeling a little silly—as if they could hear her from such a distance!
Copper lifted the spyglass, making a soft grunt of confirmation. “It’s Captain Vittori, and here comes his first mate, Navien.” She elbowed Beata and handed back the spyglass. “Take a look, quick, do you recognize him?”
Swallowing nervously, Beata did as she was told, holding up the spyglass and looking. Her heart gave a mighty thump. She did recognize him. A man with thick black hair, pulled back at his neck, but bushing out above and below the binding. His face bore a scowl that made his already rough features look more brutish, and familiar. She remembered him as huge, frightening, and with a deep, booming voice, as well as big fists. “Yes,” she said, her throat tight enough that her voice was nearly a squeak. “That’s the one who found me in the trunk... He’s the one I stabbed.”
“Shame he survived,” Copper muttered, reaching out to take the spyglass back. “Beata,” she said then, lifting the glass to have another look for herself. “Go see if Oskar’s got anything he needs help with. Stay off the open decks till after dark, hm?”
“Aye, Copper,” Beata replied a little weakly. She didn’t have to ask why, given how well she’d seen Navien through the spyglass. Surely he’d see her just as clearly should he take a look. She gave a grateful look to Saramay and Temmin, glancing about to see Dara and Azri watching her with concern in their eyes. Waving briefly at them, Beata hurried away aft to clamber down and check in with Oskar and find something to do to help, and to distract herself, of course. The warmth of knowing Copper was looking out for her countered some of the nervous fear that seeing The Lamprey and Navien had caused.
Down in maintenance, Oskar was in his workroom with a schematic spread out on the big table that took up easily a third of the space in the reasonably large room. Beata knocked on the frame of the open portal, bringing Oskar’s attention and his mostly bald head up from his concentration, the end of his single braid dangling over one broad shoulder—he had a strip of gray hair growing along the middle of his head, woven back into a complicated braid, but his medium-brown scalp was shaved clean on either side of it.
“Thought you’d be out with the rest of the youngsters ogling Skycove, bee,” he said with a crooked teasing smile.
Shrugging, Beata debated the truth for about a full second. “The Lamprey’s moored here, too, so Copper thought maybe I ought to be doing something useful below-decks for a while,” she replied, going forward and glancing at the schematic spread out beneath Oskar’s big, work-roughened hands. “Are those for The Kraken?”
After studying her for just a moment with what she thought might be concern, Oskar’s smile broadened and he beckoned her closer. “Yes, indeed. Something special, actually.” He gave a tilt of his chin, aiming past Beata. “Close the door, little bee, I believe I’ve found something for you to do. Especially since The Lamprey’s in our airspace.”
Beata closed the door, curiosity rapidly displacing a large portion of her previous unease.
The Kraken remained moored at Skycove the rest of the day and into dusk, with several groups of crew riding down the mooring tower’s cargo lift at staggered intervals, each group returning in about two hours, though never more than two groups out at a time. Many brought back purchases, some just for themselves, but each group had apparently been given—or volunteered—a goal to find and buy something useful or necessary for the ship or the crew. The captain and her party returned with a line of carts and stevedores carrying the supplies they’d gone after, making dozens of trips up and down the mooring tower in the lift.
Sitting in a semi-sequestered spot out of the main flow of traffic on deck, Beata watched with curiosity all the goods being hauled down into the bowels of the ship, and then some other things brought up and loaded on the lift platform once it had been emptied. She asked a passing crewmember—Junni, who clambered boldly all over the rigging when they were moving through the air—about the crates and bags leaving the ship.
“The last of our trade goods,” Junni replied easily. “Searope, dried fish, green biscuits, and one last barrel of the Sea Foam Ale.”
“Searope?” Beata asked. “I’ve heard of dried fish, of course. But what’s searope? And green biscuits?”
Junni chuckled, hunkering down on a tall coil of rope as she took off the bandana that had held her short pale curls away from her face, which she turned into the freshening breeze. The fading light of the setting sun highlighted the scattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose. “Searope is like hempen rope, but stronger and more pliable. It’s a mix of specially treated kelp and sea grass that’s been dried, treated in a brine mixture with some secret ingredients, and then dried again as it’s woven. Our folk at the Siren Islands make it, along with the green biscuits.”
“What about the ale? Is that what we have for our suppers?”
“Yes, the ale’s the same we all drink, only ours is watered down to keep us from being drunk off our arses all the time.” She winked and Beata grinned, imagining how little work would get done then. Junni went on before Beata could ask further. “The green biscuits are the next best trade item we’ve got after the searope. They’re a bit like hardtack in that they keep a long while, but they’re a mix of dried seaweed, some herbs and honey for preservation and taste, and some other bits and bobs to keep a body going. We can hardly keep any back to open new trade because of the demand from those who’ve tried them befor
e.”
“Is that why we don’t get any onboard?” Beata asked, because she would certainly have noticed green biscuits.
Junni slapped her bandana against her thigh, shaking her head as she started refolding it. “Oh, no, bee. It’s that we don’t need them. Cookie puts some of the same ingredients in his fruit mash and some of the other ingredients in his regular stews. That’s why they’re so tasty, and also why we don’t have to worry about scurvy or other nasty things some crews suffer during long voyages. The bounty of the Islands and our bond with the Old One.” She held out her forearm, which had five now-familiar scars. “I’ve got some things to do yet, grease monkey. Be seeing you.” She gave Beata a casual slap on the shoulder and stood, tying her bandana onto her head again as she strode away.
After the evening meal, Beata shared some of her new knowledge with the other four. They had finished washing up and were sitting in the mess and talking when the ship’s bells rang out. They were unmooring, leaving Skycove well after dark to head for the Siren Islands. They hadn’t been scheduled to leave until the next morning. Beata shared curious expressions with her table mates.
“I’ll bet it’s because of The Lamprey,” she said, frowning a bit.
“If there’s bad blood between them and The Kraken, leaving in the dark is probably a clever idea.” Azri gazed thoughtfully off toward the doorway into the mess. “Give us a good lead before morning, in case they try following or something.”
Saramay nodded, reaching over to touch Beata’s unwrapped arm. “It’s not just that you stabbed one of their people,” she said reassuringly. “I’ve heard the talk today and no one here likes The Lamprey or its crew.”
“I heard the previous captain of The Kraken and the captain of The Lamprey used to be partners,” Dara said quietly, leaning in toward the middle of the table. “They had a falling out and there was a big fight in a pub, both crews involved.” She glanced around at them. Beata and the other three bent over the table, eager to hear more. “The Kraken’s old captain—his name was Rikard—died, leaving Captain Nyx the ship. She broke with Captain Vittori, and they’ve been enemies since.”
Temmin, listening with sleepy eyes, his chin resting in his palm, looked at Beata and said slowly, “I’ll bet that the captain doesn’t want Navien to use you as an excuse to start up trouble again.”
“Copper did tell me to stay off the open decks,” Beata said by way of agreement, feeling apprehensive again.
“We’re leaving, anyway,” Dara said dismissively, getting up from the bench. “We’ll be leagues away by dawn, so there’s no use in fretting about it.” She gave a brief lift of one hand as she made for the door. “We’d do better to sleep instead of gossip. Goodnight.”
The rest murmured their goodnights and seemed to agree with the sleeping part, if nothing else. Saramay and Temmin made sure to touch Beata reassuringly on their way and Azri even patted her back in a slightly awkward manner, but she only smiled and bid him goodnight. At least he was trying. It was a good sign, she thought, and wondered if he had been trying to take the doctor’s indirect advice and put aside some of his anger.
Beata had a little trouble getting to sleep, but, once she was able to slip under, it was comforting to sink into dreams of distant drums and voices singing, deep long thrums to small fluttering notes. As she woke near dawn, the drums faded into faint rumbles of thunder and she heard the shushing whisper of the wind all throughout the ship.
The Kraken was amazingly stable as they flew through storm clouds and rain. Sometimes the droplets were so fine it was more like a heavy mist than actual rain. Everyone moving on deck had to wear at least sandals with gummed soles to keep from slipping on the wet surface, and most requisitioned waterproofed jackets with hoods, belting them securely over their clothing to keep dry. They’d flown through rain before, of course, but never lasting so long—at least in Beata’s experience.
For the next week, Beata kept slipping out to linger in doorways and sheltered nooks, the damp, cool air with the ozone from the periodic bouts of lightning reminded her of autumn at home. Even though she kept getting wetter than intended, sometimes shivering till her teeth rattled for a little while, she never stayed cold for long, and never got sick.
Saramay and Dara arranged between them to get extra blankets for their little group. It made sleeping a lot cozier, that was certain. The dreams of floating, the music and singing, came more frequently and were more vivid. Sometimes Beata didn’t want to get out of bed, only remain curled up and dozing indefinitely. As tempting as it was, though, she still talked herself out of it and got on with her days. She wondered if the dreams would stop once the larvae were removed and, even though she knew it was inevitable, she was beginning to dread it a little more each day.
When The Kraken was less than a week out from the Siren Islands, and the weather had gone from rainy to foggy, Captain Nyx called everyone available to muster on the main deck.
“We’re due to make the Islands in a handful of days and, though most of you are quite familiar with what you’ll find, our new young hosts and three of you recent to our regular crew have never been here before. You’ll see much that’s utterly ordinary: A main village on the largest island and three smaller villages, one on the far side of the main island and one each on the next two largest islands of the six.” Captain Nyx’s boots made solid thunking sounds in a measured, slow cadence as she walked in a loose arc before her gathered crew.
Beata, Saramay, Temmin, Azri, and Dara stood at the front between Copper and Nan, The Kraken’s second mate. Nannuri could have been related to Beata, with the same dark brown skin and wavy black hair. She kept her hair fairly short, with just enough to gather into a tail at the nape of her neck and leave a little flurry of almost-curls below. Nan’s dark eyes were fixed on the captain, though occasionally she would glance around as if to be sure everyone else was paying attention, too.
Captain Nyx came to a stop, facing the main body of the gathered crew and Beata, along with her four fellow hosts. Lifting her chin, the captain continued. “What you’ll also see, which you may find very much out of the ordinary, will be some of the denizens of the waters surrounding the islands, as well as our client, who is also our business partner. Some of you will have heard from your fellows what to expect, but understand that you are in no danger. It will be strange and, more than likely, a bit frightening, but remember this: we have been working with the Old One and his kin for decades. If it all becomes too strange for you, you may get back on the ship and remain there until our business is done. There will be no shame in this.” She said this last with an inclination of her head, as if making a promise, and then gave them all a suddenly stern expression, lifting one dark-skinned finger, the slightly lighter skin of her palm flashing in the odd fog-diffused light. “However—you will not harm any person or living thing on or around the islands; if something attacks you, of course you may defend yourself, but initiate no hostile action. I will not tolerate a breach of this order. No second chances. Am I clear?”
At once, most of the crew answered with a resounding, “Aye, Captain!” and a few straggling voices followed with the same words. Even Beata and the other four repeated the words clearly, despite the previous uneasy looks between Azri and Dara, and some nervous shuffling from Saramay and Temmin. Beata was nervous, too, but more eager than anything else.
“Good,” said the captain with a firm nod. “See First Mate Copper or Second Mate Nan if you wish to remain upon the ship, either now or later. Nan, you’re in charge this time. It’s Copper’s turn to come down. Muir, I want your loading teams ready to go by the time we make the islands. Engineer Veteen, Chief Oskar, see me after this meeting.” Captain Nyx received nods and replies of affirmation, after which she lifted her hands for the attention of those who’d begun murmuring amongst themselves. “One last important thing. Two different watches have reported seeing a possible shape behind us. We may have a tail and I think many of you will have guessed the likeliest
possibility. The Lamprey—or someone—may be working up their courage to try and raid us and our home base, or it might be just phantom shapes in the storm or the mist, but be prepared. If you don’t know your battle stations, ask. I won’t have that backstabbing pirate Vittori and his horde of villains get their hands on The Kraken or our resources.”
Many of the crew offered varying shouts or mutters of support and agreement, though they simmered down almost at once.
“I trust you all to do your jobs well,” Captain Nyx said when there was quiet again. “Make me proud, shipkin! That is all.”
Applause and more shouts and cries of approval followed the captain’s departure to her cabin and ready-room. Beata looked around, full of excitement and anticipation, before sharing a grin with Saramay and Temmin, and lesser smiles with Dara and Azri. Seeing Copper surrounded by a handful of crewmembers, she went over to wait just outside the main group of them, planning to ask what would be expected of her if there was a fight.
“Hoi, Beata,” Copper called, leaning over a bit to see her between two others’ shoulders. “You’ll be going down to the island, of course, but if there’s trouble, you’re with Oskar’s team, aye? See him about your assignments, if any.”
“Aye, Copper!” Beata replied clearly, turning and hurrying after Oskar.
The fog remained with them the next few days, making the appearance of the first of the islands rather dramatic. Uneven peaks of dark stone appeared through the white mists, sloping down and outward, plant growth starting out thin and swelling into trees, vines, and verdant undergrowth which then gave way to terraced fields, narrow canals, trained hedge borders, and more ordered stands of trees. Structures began here and there amidst the obviously farmed lands, growing denser as The Kraken came to the lee side of the island’s mountainous peaks.
Phantasmical Contraptions & Other Errors Page 24
