The Maiden in the Mirror

by Scott Hamerton

  "If he's resorting to the counsel of shadows, then there's not much that can be done, except maybe staying out of port."

  Captain Glass nodded in small jerks, and then strode from the cabin without warning.

  "You both said he," Minerva urged, after she heard the sterncastle doors close. "Who were you talking about?" she asked, as she handed Lintumen his scrap of paper.

  "Captain Black," he replied, thanking her as he diligently aligned the paper with frayed edges of the gap from which it was torn. Then he rubbed his thumbs over the broken seam, and lifted his hand with a flourish, revealing a wholly repaired page.

  "Why does Captain Black want to kill him?"

  "Captain Black wants Captain Glass dead for reasons that only Captain Glass can tell you. If you truly wish to know, you should ask him."

  Minerva chewed on her lip, observing Lintumen as he continued to read his book in utter darkness. "He told me it was a gambling debt," she said.

  "Ah," Lintumen replied.

  "Is it a gambling debt?" Minerva demanded, dissatisfied.

  "You should go and pack, and then return to the ship as hastily as possible, or you'll have nothing to wear."

  "What?"

  "The captain has gone to find Olbus, who will prepare the ship for departure. Once the preparations are complete, which should require only minutes, he will issue a crew call for the Skyraker. She's lacking repairs, but she can still fly. Seeing as the captain also plans to abandon the repair fees, it would be good to leave port, or you might face the wrath of the locals as a member of his former crew."

  Minerva lingered in her thoughts for the precise duration required for a person to stop thinking about one thing and switch to thinking about something far more important, such as the Skyraker leaving without her. She was almost clear of the cabin when Lintumen called out to her.

  "Lock the door once you're out, won't you, my dear?"

  Chapter 43

  Crew Call

  Minerva caught Captain Glass just as he was finishing a hasty conversation with Olbus.

  "Collect your things. We're leaving," Olbus ordered.

  "Now?"

  "Now! Go!"

  Minerva lacked the conditioning necessary to pack and leave on a moment's notice. Her mind crowded with thoughts of Thimbler and the twins, and wondered if anyone would inform any of them. She was barely three decks up through the city when the sound of a loudly smashing bell split the calm of Riggersport like thunder. She looked down at the Skyraker to see Olbus on the deck, ringing the alarm bell with all his might.

  "Crew call! Skyraker!" He bellowed loud and clear, certainly loud enough that the entire port could hear him.

  As Minerva climbed and ran, the ringing and the shouting only seemed to grow louder. A crescendo rose throughout the city, repeating the call from every bell that hung within the canyon. When she reached the lone bridge that crossed the chasm, the whole city had come to life in a terrible cacophony of clanging and shouting.

  Minerva met Luff and Leech on the other side of the bridge. "Wrong way – Minnie!" they said playfully.

  When she went to move past them, Luff grabbed her by the hand and stopped her.

  "I need my things!" she urged. "I need to say goodbye to Thimbler!"

  "Will you be there? Can we vouch for you?"

  Minerva nodded vigorously, and Luff released her hand, allowing her to run free once more.

  That's the Blow Hole, she thought, as she passed the fractured hull. You're halfway there!

  As she passed the rigging that led down to the dock, where she had spent an evening with Gunner, bleary-eyed sailors of all ages began to emerge from the ships around her.

  Minerva met Big Jim just as he was closing the small shop he used to sell food while in port. He handed her a bag and threw a massive load of pots and utensils over his shoulder, and then rushed off in the direction of the Skyraker. He stopped after a few strides when he realized that she wasn't following.

  "Are ye not comin', girl?"

  Minerva gasped between her words. "I need – my things!"

  "Ye got a sailor to vouch for ye?"

  She nodded hard with her hands on her knees, struggling for air.

  "Ye better hurry, or ye won't make it," he added, retrieving his bag from her.

  Minerva ran off at once. The Needle and Thread appeared on the deck ahead, and she shoved her way through the throng of sailors outside, drawing angry yelps from the crowd. As she crested the final railing, she saw Thimbler up ahead in his nightclothes, carrying two large satchels, one over each shoulder.

  "Your orange dress and other effects are in this bag!" he said, thrusting the package into her arms and slinging the strap over her head as he did.

  That's not too bad, she thought, worried about the weight of the load.

  "This other one is some things I thought you might need."

  That one is heavier, she thought with a grunt, sagging under the weight.

  "I'll take that one," Thimbler added, watching her wobble.

  They were barely beyond the Needle and Thread when Thimbler was already lagging behind. Burdened physical exertion was not his expertise. Regardless, it was certainly faster than she would have gone on her own.

  Down below, across the chasm, the Skyraker's sails began to unroll.

  "Minnie!" A panting Lockjaw ran towards her. "The twins sent me. You need help?"

  Thimbler didn't wait for further conversation. He practically threw his bag at the swabbie.

  Minerva turned to face her employer and friend, suddenly realizing that she needed to say goodbye. "Thank you, for everything," she said.

  "You better hurry," he urged.

  Unsure of what else to say, Minerva hugged him hard and sudden, squeezing out any remaining air.

  Thimbler nodded, smiling with sincerity. "Thank you, Miss Minerva. Now go!"

  Minerva gave him one last quick hug, and then hastened off in the direction of the bridge.

  "Did you get someone to vouch for you?" she asked Lockjaw.

  "No need. Apprenticed myself to a carpenter."

  Minerva didn't know if she should be happy for his success, or sad that he wouldn't be joining her.

  As they reached the edge of the bridge over the chasm, Minerva slowed her pace. The bridge over Riggersport wasn't so much a bridge as it was a tightrope made of planks strung out in a line. It swayed and creaked if she so much as winked, saying little of what happened if she tried to run across it. It didn't help that it was so long that the citizens had commissioned a small sloop to support it in the middle.

  The fear of arriving too late to board the ship, and the fear of falling, dueled in Minerva's mind, from which the idea of haste won out. The pair of them bolted out onto the planks, much to the dismay of the bridge, which swung wildly from side to side in protest.

  An elderly woman stepped out to stop them as they reached the sloop. "Easy! Yer gonna knock us all down!"

  "Sorry, ma'am!" Lockjaw shouted.

  "Crew call," added Minerva.

  "For the Skyraker? Ye already missed it."

  The woman pointed off down below at the dockyards, but Minerva didn't want to look. The bells ceased ringing sometime after meeting Lockjaw. When she convinced herself to peer over the edge, she saw the Skyraker in the last stages of departure. Its hammer sails were already full of lift, dragging it out into the middle of the chasm.

  Minerva slumped down on the sloop. She watched with sadness as the Skyraker pulled out, far below. She could see the sailors on deck and the riggers in the sails, and even Nezzen in the crow's nest, and she felt leaden with sorrow.

  At least she had one last chance to wave goodbye, she thought, and she waved dolefully at Nezzen as the Skyraker approached, not sure when she would see him again, if ever.

  Minerva's heart strained and she started to cry when Nezzen didn't wave back, but his reaction prefaced a curious display. Instead of waving, he shouted at the riggers below him. Luff and Leech appeared fro
m behind a sail and scanned around before catching sight of her. They didn't wave, either. One of them, possibly Leech, grabbed a rope and dropped down a sail or two, shouting and drawing the attention of Olbus. He pointed at Minerva, and Olbus turned to look, followed shortly by the captain. A few more shouts went back and forth, and then the Skyraker began to rise.

  "They're coming for you!" Lockjaw cried out.

  "Them gits are gonna tear the bridge down!" warned the woman on the sloop.

  "Give me a rope!" Minerva demanded. When no rope presented itself, she snatched a coil from a heap on the deck and threw the fastest, sturdiest knot she could think of around the nearest cleat.

  "Minnie?" Lockjaw's voice wavered with concern. He was there when she jumped off the ship to rescue one of the twins, giving him good reason to question her actions.

  "They vouched for me. I need to get on that ship."

  "Well they can't stop up 'ere," scolded the old woman.

  "Right, which is why I'm going to swing down there as they go by."

  Minerva picked up her two satchels from the deck and slung one over each shoulder. They might provide a soft landing, she thought. She was busy estimating the speed of a moving ship, compared to that of a falling thirteen-year-old girl hanging from a rope, when Lockjaw broke her concentration.

  "You can't be serious?"

  There really wasn't a good answer to that, she decided, so she didn't say anything. She merely took the end of the rope, threw a quick knot into it for grip, and then hustled back down the bridge, pulling the cord to its fullest length.

  Lockjaw stared at her, wide-eyed.

  Minerva gave him a quick and sincere smile, hoping with all her heart that he would interpret it as a thank-you-very-much-for-your-assistance-but-I'm-leaving-now kind of smile, and then focused her mind.

  Her rope felt a lot less long than the ship did down.

  As the Skyraker tacked towards her, Minerva threw her legs over the rope rail of the bridge and stood on the opposite side, ready to drop off. Maybe it was the bridge, or maybe it was her legs, but everything felt extra wobbly. Once positioned, she had plenty of time to line up her arc, and likewise, plenty of time to deeply contemplate what she was about to do.

  This is, by far, the stupidest thing you've ever even considered doing, scolded her mind.

  Minerva pushed the thought away and leaned off, trying to judge the angle.

  No, really, you're going to die. Assuming you miss, which you will, landing in the water from this height will be like diving into a pile of rocks.

  Minerva tossed a few loops around her arm for a better hold.

  Even if you manage to hit the ship, where are you going to land? The deck? That'll be messy. The sails? That'll just put you down on the deck, after you whack a few spars, of course. The crow's nest? Go for it. You couldn't hit a bee's nest with a rock at five paces.

  "Oh, shut up," she snarled under her breath, confusing the people around her.

  Then the ship was there, right below her. The moment was upon her.

  Minerva let go of the bridge and clamped both hands onto her lifeline. While she intended to step off in a carefully coordinated display of acrobatics, in truth, she just leaned out and let physics do the rest.

  For a moment, she thought that maybe she could fly like the incredible plummite stone that Lintumen had shown her. Free of the bounds of gravity. Free to sail on the winds in any direction she chose if she simply believed in herself.

  Gravity, she discovered, really liked to be right. What she felt was rushing wind, and what she saw was the sails of the Skyraker growing larger with alarming speed.

  Minerva met her target somewhat higher than intended, yet not quite high enough to miss entirely. One of the riggers ducked under her knees. Then her rope caught the rigging above her and snapped taught at the end of its length, launching her majestically through the air into the middle of the mizzenmast.

  The last thing she remembered was the sound of her own lungs running out of air. Not even the fanfare of her own scream heralded her impact with the sturdy wooden deck of the Skyraker.

  Chapter 44

  The Certainty of Probability

  "Are you certain?"

  A cracked white mask, broken in one corner, drifted in the darkness of a room fit for a king, weaving back and forth like an overstrung marionette.

  Probability of assurance exceeds any reasonable possibility.

  "What about unreasonable possibility?" retorted Captain Black.

  Complete certainty fails to exceed the rigor of feasibility within the range of all potential possibilities. This agent seeks to revise its initial assessment, in consideration of additional threats. Should this agent, and its counsel, invoke an expansion of contract to include unnamed associates?

  "No. Absolutely not. Glass is my only concern."

  Understood. This agent shall endeavor to eliminate the assigned Captain Glass without harming associates, acquaintances, or allies of the target.

  Captain Black ground his teeth and squinted. "No. Nullify the contract."

  Understood. This agent recognizes that, in consideration of payments made, Captain Black of the Black and Red Consortium remains in possession of a favor of indeterminate worth with this agent, and its counsel.

  When it stepped away and turned its face, the shadow vanished, leaving only the flickering light of a candle to lazily fill its hollow shape.

  Captain Black twisted the ancient coin in his fingers, cracking his teeth together. "Squints!"

  Squints appeared in the doorway with startling swiftness, as if he had been standing directly outside. "Aye, Captain."

  "Get word to Apples and Fletch. Do not engage the Skyraker."

  "Sir? The twin ships could easily down her."

  Black turned an appraising eye to the man before him. "I want to slit Glass' throat myself. Tell them to wait."

  "Aye, Captain!" the small man replied, as his face twisted with glee.

  Chapter 45

  Bartleby Montgomery

  Minerva bolted into a sitting position, and promptly completed the scream she began before losing consciousness.

  Lintumen jumped to his feet and struck his head on a rafter. The elderly man coddled his injury while Minerva slowly registered the familiar room around her, and its cinnamon scent.

  "I'm alive?"

  "Amazingly, yes," he commented, inspecting his palm for blood.

  "Oh," she said, expecting a lecture. "Thank you, again, for the care."

  "I didn't do anything."

  "Then how did I survive?"

  "Your mother, I might guess. Or your father, perhaps."

  Right then the scope of the conversation escaped Minerva. "Pardon?" she asked.

  "Your hair, my dear. When you fell to the deck, you landed on your back. While you sustained a few bruises to your body, most of those have already healed, thanks to your youth, and any serious injury you might have sustained to your head was prevented by your impressively dense bun."

  Minerva touched the back of her head, feeling mocked by his use of the word dense.

  "However, I would argue that any willingness on your behalf to attempt a boarding action via rope swing is indirect evidence of a former, and rather serious, blow to the head."

  Minerva did her best to scowl, but couldn't hold back a smile. "How long was I out?"

  "I'm not certain. You were asleep, not knocked unconscious."

  "Where are we going?"

  "To Reshampur, in the Loftwood. It is a settlement that harvests spider silk where we can finish our repairs."

  Minerva laid back down, remembering that Captain Glass previously mentioned Reshampur. "What time is it?"

  "Early in the morning, maybe. I don't know."

  Questions about Lintumen's sleeping habits again came to mind, but Minerva thought better of asking. Instead, her mind wandered to the thoughts of the flowing shadow she fought in Captain Glass' cabin.

  "I want to know more about ma
gic," she said.

  "We all do."

  Minerva sat up and glared. "Please?"

  "I seem to recall that I attempted to teach you in the past, but you were reluctant to listen."

  "I know. I'm sorry. It's just that I hadn't really seen something like that before. Everything else you showed me seemed so—"

  "Believable?" Lintumen offered, when she paused for a word.

  Minerva nodded in agreement.

  Lintumen smiled his knowing smile, as he always did when she said what he wanted to hear. "As it is, with magic. Seeing is believing, as they say."

  "I keep thinking that there's more to it than that. More than just believing. Even if you couldn't convince yourself, couldn't you manipulate almost anything into happening by changing the beliefs of the people around you?"

  Suddenly Minerva understood more than she wanted to.

  "It always comes back to that day with the rope! You wanted the crew to believe that I was a magician, and now they do, so now I am!"

  Lintumen's eyes twinkled with excitement, betraying his calm demeanor.

  "Don't forget that you stretched that rope the first time," he said. "You did that before anyone suspected a thing. Your own ignorance sufficed in place of a belief. I simply helped the matter along from there."

  "But why?"

  "Because I am a seer. I see things that others cannot. When I met you, I saw a young girl standing at a crossroad of life, willing and able to travel many roads, and yet uncertain of her path. I can see in you unmitigated potential, but only if you believe in yourself. I want to see your goals made real, whatever you choose them to be, so I do what I think will help."

  Minerva thought in silence for a time. She couldn't decide if Lintumen was really trying to help her, or just entertaining himself.

  "The woman attacked Captain Glass. The assassin. Why did she run away? Why didn't she kill me when she had the chance?"

  "By your estimate, how many enemies pierce the shadow of deception that a counselor creates?"

  "Very few, I would guess."

  "None."

  "Why none?"

  "Because those that see through it are either recruited or silenced, neither of which leaves enemies."