The Maiden in the Mirror

by Scott Hamerton

  Minerva was very glad to be wearing three shirts.

  Luff and Leech said they normally wouldn't keep going in weather like this, but the captain wanted to reach Reshampur as soon as possible. If they knew what he was running from, she thought, they would gladly be pushing much harder. Every time she neared the top of the mast, she wondered how Nezzen was faring up in the crow's nest.

  The captain stood at the helm the entire time, soaked through to the skin. He smiled when he saw Minerva looking at him, but the fear that clouded his mind hung apparent in the wrinkles that never left his brow.

  When lunch finally arrived, the riggers split off into shifts, leaving Minerva to eat alone while the twins staffed the sails. Regardless of how badly she wanted a break, she gave herself just enough time to eat and change her clothes before returning to the masts. By suppertime, she ached everywhere, even in places she didn't know could ache.

  It was the quietest meal she had ever seen aboard the ship. Even Jim kept his abuse of the new sailors to a minimum. The rain abated about an hour before the meal, but the crew still had plenty of work to do.

  Luff and Leech kept the crew in good spirits with silly antics and constant joking, but even that fell to the wayside once they were in front of their plates.

  Minerva flopped down on her bunk after eating and let her eyes wander to the various parts of her nearly empty cabin. The small stash of gifts from Nezzen on the table. The monstrous gilded cabinet that she still couldn't open. The three empty bunks that waited for someone to sleep in them.

  She thought about how hard the twins worked, and how they slept in the communal area with the other sailors, because of her. Everything about the empty beds seemed like it was perfect for them. Like if she left it ready, they would come to sleep in it anyway.

  Minerva leaped from her bed and yanked the door open, heading for Olbus' cabin, and nearly ran straight into his back. He was at his door about to enter, and looked rather startled by the sudden appearance of Minerva behind him. He said nothing, giving her the time to decide what she was going to say. She licked her lips, uncertain if she should reveal her realization.

  "You keep the other bunk made because of me, don't you? In case I need to sleep where you can protect me."

  Olbus took a deep breath, and ever so slightly, his chiseled expression cracked. The truth was out. He couldn't deny it. "Yes," he confessed.

  "Well, if you would allow it, I would like to stay in your cabin from now on. The men work hard, and I feel really guilty about taking away the beds that they've earned."

  A smile. A genuine, honest smile shattered his perfectly formed facade. "Yes!" Excitement sounded odd in his baritone voice.

  Olbus threw the door open and rushed in. His arms grasped about aimlessly, as if he was trying to make everything ready, but didn't know where to start. "It's a little cramped. You can have that bunk. Or mine. That one is softer. This one is firm. They're not perfect."

  "I'll take that one," she said, pointing at the unused bunk. "It's even ready for me."

  The huge man pulled open one of the attached drawers and scooped up nearly everything in it in one swoop, throwing it onto the bunk behind him. After emptying the second drawer the same way, he turned to her and sucked in a massive chest of air, letting it out slowly. A mountain of tension expelled from him immense frame, and he nodded as he relaxed.

  "I'll get a rope and a sheet. We can hang it down the middle. For privacy."

  "Should I start moving my stuff?"

  Olbus nodded as he exited the cabin, beaming with gladness.

  Minerva went to her old room and pulled out the first drawer of clothing to take it across the hall.

  Luff and Leech arrived just in time to find her going back for the third drawer. "Finally asked you – did he?"

  "No. I asked him."

  "That's very nice of you. Should make him very happy."

  "I hope so. I must worry him a lot."

  "Yeah – you do."

  Always a comfort, these two, she thought. "Okay, if you're not going to help, get out."

  The twins disappeared immediately, whooping as they scattered down the hallway.

  As Minerva cleared the bottom drawer of the cabinet in Olbus' cabin, she discovered a gleaming white military uniform, complete with boots, gloves, and a cap. Not a single thread or accessory of the entire ensemble was anything but the purest white, with two exceptions. A patch of blood stained the cuff on the left arm, and a dirty hole tore through the right side of the chest.

  A white badge, carved entirely from ivory and shaped like a coat of arms, lay atop the uniform. Two feathered wings spread up in an arc from the base, with the tips meeting at the peak. A pair of rearing lions flanked the shield in front of the wings but facing away, as if the disc were resting on their backs. A single intricate crown, wreathed in interwoven patterns, graced the center of the shield.

  An otherwise inconsequential memory burst to the fore of Minerva's mind. In a secluded wooden trunk, buried behind a bookshelf and tucked beneath a collection of pistols, Minerva's father stowed a small chest of similar objects. Inside the chest, little winged shields had been carefully pinned to a wide sash. Meticulous embroidery recorded names and ranks, annotating the cloth beneath each ivory shield. For ensigns and commanders there were many. Captains were few, but notably frequent, while a single commodore graced the head of the collection. She had never seen a mark like this before, nor one quite as ornate.

  Olbus cleared his throat.

  Minerva jumped to her feet and dropped the badge into the drawer. The big man lowered a blanket and some rope to the floor, and then strolled over. He picked up the uniform with the utmost care, moving it safely to a new home in the opposite cabinet.

  "You're an officer of the White Fleet," Minerva said.

  "Was."

  Minerva stood stunned by his casual dismissal. "Nezzen said your men loved you."

  "Maybe they did."

  "I don't imagine they stopped."

  Olbus caressed the white cloth with a gentle hand. "The leader they loved is gone."

  "Maybe the leader they loved is hoping they will forget about him."

  "They should. He abandoned them."

  Against her better judgment, Minerva spoke her mind to the imposing man. "And what does it mean if he abandons the memory of them?"

  Olbus sighed. He wasn't winning and he didn't like it. "Lintumen wants to see you. Go."

  Conversation. Over.

  Chapter 49

  Fork in the Road

  Lintumen waited patiently for Minerva in his cabin.

  He can't leave, she thought.

  The realization hit her suddenly. Lintumen always looked like he was waiting for a guest, yet clearly had no choice in the matter. The subtlety in his efforts was impressive.

  "Good evening, my dear," he said in a raspy tone.

  "You wanted to see me?"

  "Yes. I find my mind is sharpest when it rains, and I would like to engage a worthy opponent in some mental dueling."

  Minerva decided that his statement was a compliment and sat down beside the crinkled old man. "What did you want to talk about?"

  "This and that."

  Minerva reached over and closed the book he was reading. "Stop being obtuse. I'm really tired, I think I might have just angered Olbus, and I'm really not up to dueling, so what did you want to talk about?"

  "I doubt that."

  "Doubt what?" she demanded, exasperated.

  "I doubt that you angered Olbus. From what I've seen, there is little emotion remaining that would permit becoming angry. Or happy. Or possibly even sad."

  "You're wrong. I've seen all three of those emotions."

  "Then you've certainly seen more of him than most people ever will."

  Minerva remembered the fury on Olbus' face on the night she met Roker, and his sadness from when she asked about his family. "Okay, I get it. I'm a magical little girl that can change even people. Is that it? Can I go now?
"

  Lintumen smiled smugly. "No, that's not it. Well, not entirely. You're certainly magical, or at least blessed, and you've certainly changed a few hearts, but not by any combination of the two."

  "Then what is it?"

  "In the world of magicians, I am known as not just a seer, but as a lumen. I am someone that can shine a light where once there was none, granting vision of events both seen and unseen. In a sense, I can see and experience an event without needing to be present. Often these events haven't even happened at all."

  "You mean that you can see the future?"

  "I can see possibility."

  Something about the statement gave Minerva the impression that he was about to tell her something bad.

  "I have seen a possibility that disturbs me greatly, and I would like you to entertain a hypothetical situation for me." Lintumen paused, considering his words. "What would you do if you knew that you were going to lose a friend?"

  "Do you mean to say that they're going to die?"

  "Perhaps. What I can tell you is that I can see two futures. One in which a continued friendship endures through great strife, but through which its participants remain content with the companionship of the other. In the other future, well, I'm not sure you want to know."

  "The future is never a certainty."

  "Do you not believe in fate, my dear?"

  "Destiny is for those that lack the will to change it," she said in the voice of her mother.

  The old man paused and idly adjusted the books and vials in front of him. Minerva couldn't decide if he was dodging the conversation or creating some form of magical expectation.

  "The trouble is, sometimes the future is certain. Sometimes even clearer than the present. You can tell me that I'm wrong, because you don't believe me, but you will not convince me. I have tried, time and again, to change what I have seen, and it never works."

  "You said yourself that seeing is believing. You can't change it because you've already seen it. That doesn't mean that someone else can't."

  "Perhaps," he said, with a victorious smile. "If you remain curious, the other future is, from a personal standpoint, the desirable future. It is everything a person could ever want, and more, but at great cost. Which would you choose? To maintain a friendship or to gain a perfect future?"

  Lintumen observed Minerva's reaction with a blank face. Meanwhile, she wanted to scream at him. Even the idea that someone would want their friend to die for their own benefit infuriated her. Her skin boiled with rage and she went for the door.

  "Minerva."

  "What?" she growled.

  "This is not your choice to make."

  Minerva smacked the door with her palm. "We're done. Let me out."

  Captain Glass opened the door, shooting a stern glance at Lintumen when he saw the expression on Minerva's face. After the door closed and the locks were sealed, Lintumen sat in the dim light for a time, and then he pulled out a large magnifying lens and went back to reading his book.

  "Show me the truth again," he said to the paper.

  Then he leaned his nose down to the page, carefully analyzing the slightest nuance of every stroke.

  Chapter 50

  Mad Men

  Wind and rain hammered down across the deck of the Phoenix, washing in sheets over the sides of the huge red galleon. No amount of scrubbing could possibly put the huge ship in the air, and so her fires were out. Two men of short stature held a sloppy salute as Captain Black's peg leg thundered over the soaking planks. They wore dark red coats, stained and frayed.

  "At ease," Black said.

  The two men relaxed and shook Black's hand when he stretched it out to them. Both their faces bore heavy scars, and one of them wore an eyepatch.

  "Captain Apples." Black nodded at the man without an eye. "Captain Fletch."

  "Good to see you again, Black," said Captain Fletch.

  "Your ships. Are they skyworthy in this weather?"

  "The Arbalest is at your service, sir. Our riggers'll fly a hurricane if the boatswain says so."

  "Aye, and the Ballistae, sir," said Apples. "I'll dance on a cloud if we can't catch a damaged frigate half-stocked on riggers."

  "Good. Head setward. Glass will fly to the Loftwood to plead with Lord Arach." Captain Black squinted against the wind in the direction of the Loftwood.

  "Do ye think the lord will protect him?" asked Apples.

  "Aye."

  "What shall we do if he won't come out?" said Fletch. "We are not welcome in Arach's woods."

  "Simply wait until they fly again. If he sits in port, I can kill him myself. Tie them down once the spawning ends, and I will bring the Phoenix up behind. "

  The two men sneered maliciously and then left for their vessels. Captain Black watched the two sleek coast runners rise into the air against the rain, making their way towards the Loftwood.

  "Captain Black?"

  A less accustomed man might have been surprised to find Squints unexpectedly standing behind them.

  "Aye?"

  "How far will ye chase 'im? We've already lost Cloudscorch."

  "To the end of the sky, if I must. Either he dies, or I do."

  Chapter 51

  The Meaning of Sailor

  Minerva slept late the next morning. She realized this fact when she peeked around the curtain and Olbus was already gone. Throwing on her clothes as fast she could, she ran to the galley, but found it empty.

  "Jim!" she called.

  The fat man appeared in moments. "Minnie? Ye better get topside or ye'll really get it from the bosun!"

  Minerva's skin crawled. She didn't just sleep in; she completely missed breakfast. Jim tossed a couple of fresh buns at her before she ran from the galley. She had just reached the deck when Luff and Leech dropped from the sails like a couple of lions moving in for a kill.

  "Well – well – well. Look who's finally here. Had to get your beauty sleep?"

  "I know! I'm sorry. I'm here now, though."

  "So, you are. So, you are." The twins echoed each other lazily, obviously amused.

  Minerva reached for a broom, but the twins blocked her efforts. "Please move," she begged. "If Olbus catches me I'll be in deep trouble."

  "We know. Extra hours."

  Luff and Leech crossed their arms and barricaded Minerva's path as she lunged for a broom handle.

  "Why didn't you wake me up?" she demanded.

  "Crew aren't allowed – inside the bosun's cabin," they said with a smirk.

  The boards of the deck groaned behind Minerva as the body of a heavy man weighed down on them, and her skin prickled. She hunched her shoulders in fear, waiting for Olbus to haul her away.

  "Boatswain! Good to see you – this late in the morning."

  With a sick sense of joy, Luff and Leech watched Minerva squirm under Olbus' stern gaze.

  "Why are you late to your duties, sailor?"

  "I slept late, sir."

  "Then you will make up the time. Mates, when did this sailor's shift start?"

  "Two hours – and fifteen minutes ago."

  "Five extra hours as punishment. Is that clear, sailor?"

  Minerva bowed her head in shame, but nodded. Five more hours, on top of yesterday, without a breakfast. This wasn't just punishment, this was torture, and she really wanted to wipe the smug grins off the faces of her friends.

  "However," Olbus continued. "Jim requested aid in the galley. It is your choice, sailor. You can work your hours in the rigging or in the galley."

  "Hey!" Luff and Leech shouted at once, shoving themselves between Minerva and Olbus.

  "We're already – short in the sails. We need her – up there."

  "Then I suggest that one of you learn how to cook," Olbus replied, leaning forward and forcing the twins to step back.

  "Thank you, sir." Minerva interjected, breaking up the standoff. "I will work my extra hours in the galley, starting now, and then I'll return for the evening shift."

  Minerva truly didn't w
ant to work in the rigging. She was still tired, hungry, and her whole body hurt from the day before, but more importantly, this was a chance to retaliate against the twins for getting her in trouble in the first place. It wasn't the best revenge she could think of, but suitable enough.

  "Yer back and walkin' already?" Jim asked, as Minerva entered the kitchen. He dropped a large pot into a washbasin with a splash. "Are ye runnin' from the bosun, or just lucky?"

  "I got extra hours for sleeping in, no thanks to Luff and Leech, but Olbus said you were shorthanded and let me choose to work here."

  Jim chuckled. "Those gits'll do that when they want someone's company, but shorthanded? No more than usual."

  "You didn't ask for help?"

  "No, ma'am."

  Wicked guilty pleasure washed over her.

  "Sounds like Olbus cut ye some slack. That's how it is with 'im. Hard to tell when he's grateful, or in a good mood. Ye still hungry?"

  "Very."

  "Ye can do the loaves for breakfast tomorrow while I whip somethin' together for ye to eat. We can switch for suppers."

  Minerva wiped the counter where she was to work and tossed out some flour. She was about to mix some dough when Big Jim plopped eggs on toast down beside her.

  "Wash yer hands when yer done."

  "Won't I get in trouble? It's not meal time."

  Jim gave a jolly laugh. "Ye think I got this big eatin' only at meal time?"

  Minerva couldn't help but look him over. He really was a gigantic man. She took the sandwich and sat down to eat it.

  Big Jim approved with a smile. "Shouldn't no one complain. Yer still growing."

  "You don't think Olbus was mad?" she asked, after swallowing a big bite.

  "Nah, Olbus is a hard man, aye, but he's a good man. Best way I know to tell his mood is by the way he says sailor. It's like a special kind of word to 'im. A sign of respect. If he's mad, he says it hard and fast, as if he's cussin'. If he's happy, he says it real slow, like thick honey."

  Minerva had noticed the differences before, but never really paid any special attention to them.