“Fwooooot!”
Gertie’s whistle echoed across the air. Suddenly, the village that had been so quiet mere seconds ago became a hub of commotion. The slabs of wood on the ground were tossed aside, revealing people huddled beneath them. Someone does live down there! The sloppy hut doors opened, and out poured groups of men and women, hollering and cheering at the top of their lungs. They were all grimy, and their simple clothing was caked in dirt. Falcon presumed that they had been working on the small farmlands.
From above, dozens of beady eyes appeared, looking down at them.
“Armeen!” shouted three small voices at once. They belonged to a trio of children whose heads had just appeared over the railing above. “You’re back!”
“Don’t come down,” Armeen shouted. He held up his hand. “I’ll be up there in a short while.”
If Falcon thought that the children had been glad, he hadn’t seen anything yet. The villagers all ran to Armeen as if welcoming a conquering hero. They smiled and surrounded him, bombarding him with a multitude of questions. Men patted his back, women handed him flowers, and a few children tugged at his coat, vying for his attention.
“Calm yourselves!” ordered a woman. She had snow-white hair and deep wrinkles marring her long face. She walked slowly. Her luxurious jade cane seemed to be the only thing keeping her standing.
The small crowd parted, allowing the woman to approach.
“It is good to see you safe and sound,” she said. “You bring this old heart much joy.”
“It is good to see you too, Mother.” Armeen embraced the woman in a long hug. “Were there any problems while I was gone?” He motioned over to the clumsy-looking huts. “Besides the obvious one. It looks as if Jonas had a hard time with the homes.”
A tall, lanky man that Falcon assumed was Jonas spoke up. “I tried to build the huts just as you instructed me, Armeen. But the sticks wouldn’t stick together. I even tried letting the mud rest as you said. But no matter what I tried, nothing worked.”
“Don’t fret about it, Jonas. We will go over it first thing tomorrow morning before my departure.”
There was a wave of disappointment from the crowd of people.
“You’re leaving so soon?” asked the elder woman. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “But you barely returned to us. Won’t you stay at least until the next harvest?”
“My apologies, Mother. But I have given my word that I am to aid these Rohads. I am obliged to honor it.”
“Of course, my son. I understand.”
Falcon watched this exchange with great interest, still at a loss for what exactly was going on. He had gathered that the woman was Armeen’s mother, but he hadn’t figured much beyond that. The fact that Armeen was so young and was commanding people twice his elder was even more mind-boggling.
The young captain motioned to the crates that had been dragged behind him. “We relieved the governor of Terasa of the meats and rice he was hoarding for himself. Jonas, gather some men and carry the food to the kitchens. Have the women prepare it. We’re feasting tonight!”
A loud cheer from the people rang out. A second later, the crowd dispersed as they resumed their business. Many went to their farming; others headed back into the underground holes. Falcon could only assume that that was where the kitchen was located.
“So who are these fine people?” asked the elder lady. “I judge from the dragon insignias that they are Rohads.” She looked quizzically at her son. “That is strange. I have never before known you to side with Rohads, or anyone else for that matter. What brought this change?”
“They paid their dues,” said Armeen. “And one of them knows the seas quite well. Together we located the pass between Missea and the Coral Sea.”
She nodded. “That’s good to hear.”
Armeen introduced every single one of them by name. Afterward, the old lady headed underground.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” asked Falcon. He looked over at the small plots of land. A long evening working the lands seemed like a great way of spending some time. It would help ease his mind and give him time to concentrate on his holy wielding.
The captain called Gertie over. “Have him join you in making the rounds.”
Rounds? Falcon didn’t like the sound of that. Usually when someone had to make rounds it was because there was someone about to attack. But considering that Armeen was a wanted criminal, it wasn’t all that surprising.
“Do you really think your enemies can find you deep in here?” asked Aya doubtfully.
Gertie answered. “The cap’n is just taking precautions. We’re so well hidden that it’s unlikely that we’ll ever be found by anyone. One can never be too careful, though. Especially now that Ferenzie has moved into the neighboring island.”
“Ferenzie?” asked Sheridan, voicing what Falcon was thinking.
“He’s a man who has been hunting the cap’n for some years now. He must have gotten information that we’re in the nearby area because he set up a temporary base on Chia Island, which is a little southwest of here.”
“He is of no importance,” said Armeen. He did not look worried in the slightest. “He’s a fool that knows nothing of the jungles or of tracking. He will give up his search and be gone in no time.”
Gertie scratched his head, not looking entirely convinced. “I don’t know, cap’n. When you stole the last batch from him he looked mighty furious. I don’t think he’ll be giving up his chase until he has hounded you to the ends of Va’siel. Especially since you were once part of his—”
“Your concern has been noted,” said Armeen, arching his eyebrows at the man. “Now do as instructed, Mr. Gertie, and make the rounds.”
Gertie seemed to understand that he had over spoken. Silenced, he stared at the captain for a split second and then looked away. It was only for a fleeting moment, but Falcon saw it. There was something they were both hiding. A secret, perhaps.
“Let’s go,” said Gertie, tugging at Falcon’s jacket.
“I’m going too,” said Sheridan.
Hiromy’s eyes lit up. “If you’re going, than so am I. I want to see more of those flowers.”
“This is no sightseeing tour, young lassie,” said Armeen. “It may be best if you stay here where it’s safe. I’m sure Miss Faith is eager to do some more of that media…er… mudata.”
“Meditation,” finished Faith.
Sheridan stepped in front of Hiromy defensively. “She can take care of herself.”
“So be it. Do not complain to me if the young lassie gets hurt.”
Feeling quite content that he wasn’t alone in his dislike for Captain Armeen, Falcon took off after Gertie. Faith headed into the underground tunnels and disappeared below.
He waited until they moved deeper into the trees. The air was thick with the aroma of fresh dirt, and in no time, the usual wild of the jungle returned. He sighed, wishing he had stayed back at the small camp. Trekking a forsaken, humid jungle wasn’t his first choice when it came to filling his empty schedule.
The silent walk was made even more uncomfortable by the fact that Sheridan was still not speaking to him. For someone so carefree, he could really hold a grudge.
“Quiet!” called Gertie, after yet another one of Hiromy’s high-pitched lullabies. She would break out in a song from time to time, which didn’t seem to be sitting to well with the short pirate.
“So?” asked Falcon. “What exactly is Armeen’s past with this Ferenzie fellow?”
A number of branches snapped in half as the pirate stepped over them. His mouth remained unmoving.
“So?” continued Falcon. “It sounds like your boss was once was in league with this Ferenzie. Did that gutless Armeen betray him and steal his gold or something? That is what he does, isn’t it?”
“Shut it,” said Gertie. “The cap’n is a great man. Something the likes of you wouldn’t understand.”
Falcon winced. It was clear that Gertie was loyal to Captain Armeen. If he w
as going to find out what they were hiding, he would have to do it another way.
“Can I hear your heartbeat?” asked a chirpy voice behind him. Falcon raised an eyebrow as Hiromy moved close to him. She put her ear on his chest and listened intently. “Wow. Such a beautiful heartbeat.”
“Shhhh…” hissed Gertie.
Falcon used this as his chance to take a step back.
The young princess frowned as she watched his retreat, but she quickly forgot all about him and returned to her humming.
“See that?” Gertie pointed to a small island obscured by a veil of misty fog.
Falcon nodded, crouched behind the green bushes as Gertie was doing. He was quiet for a long while as he examined the small fort. From this distance, he barely made out a large wooden fence that appeared to have been made out of freshly cut logs. He leaned forward, hoping to get a better view. It did not help much. He thought he saw movement, but he wasn’t entirely sure.
“What is that?” asked Sheridan.
“It’s Ferenzie’s temporary camp. He’s been launching search parties for the cap’n from there.”
“Seems awfully close,” said Sheridan. Falcon was thinking the exact thing.
“No. We’re safe here.” Gertie sounded uncertain. “He doesn’t know where to begin his search. As long as we don’t draw any attention to ourselves, we’re in no danger.”
Gertie had just finished spewing his last word when the water rose into a wave fifteen feet high.
“Oh no!” Sheridan ran after Hiromy, who now stood enveloped knee-deep in the water. She waved her hands, and the water whirled and rose even higher.
Sheridan reached her just before she increased the height.
“What’s wrong?” asked Hiromy, oblivious to what she’d done. “I just wanted to make the water dance. It was so sad and alone.”
“Get out of the water, you fools!” hissed Gertie.
Falcon watched from behind the bushes with sinking spirits. Sheridan had pulled Hiromy out of the water and back behind cover, but Falcon doubted that was enough. There was no way that the men from the fort had not seen the water tower. Not only had it been unnaturally high, the splash it had created had sent loud ripples emanating through the water.
“You were supposed to be watching her!” Gertie was visibly furious. “It would be a miracle if they didn’t see her wielding!”
“I’m sorry,” said Hiromy. Her lips trembled, and she began to cry into Sheridan’s shirt.
“Let’s get back. I must report this to the cap’n!”
The walk back to the camp was much quieter than before. Besides Hiromy’s regretful sobs, nothing was audible. Falcon doubted she even knew what exactly she’d done wrong. She was simply crying because she understood enough to know that she had messed up yet again.
Sheridan, who had done a superb job at ignoring Falcon before, finally broke his icy silence.
“I just looked away for a split second,” he said regretfully. The way he spoke, it sounded as if he wanted Falcon to reassure him that everything would be fine. He couldn’t do that. The truth was, Falcon didn’t know if things would go well or not. All he knew was that they had more than enough troubles as it was. They didn’t need to add to it by having one of Armeen’s enemies coming after them. Though he had no lost love for Armeen, he knew that their fates were, whether he liked it or not, momentarily intertwined. If the pirate captain became entangled in a battle with this Ferenzie, it would take days or even weeks to defeat Armeen’s foe. That was time they didn’t have. With every passing moment, the Suteckh threat increased. He could feel it with every fiber of his being.
~~~
Aya and Armeen stepped into a large carriage that had had its roof completely torn off. At the top, a metal hook that held a triple-braided rope had been attached to it. The fancy curved lines outside the white carriage told her that it had belonged to someone of wealth: royalty, or perhaps a noble.
He whistled once, and the carriage began to ascend.
“Don’t worry,” assured Armeen. “We use the sturdiest carriages. We’re completely safe.”
Aya smiled, trying not to show her discomfort. She wasn’t the slightest afraid of the carriage breaking under their weight. What did scare her were heights. It was a fear she had always carried with her, despite her best efforts to overcome it.
Fortunately, in seconds the carriage stopped moving and she stepped off onto wooden planks. Nervously, she held onto the oak wood railings, making it a point not to look down.
The children, who had earlier called out at Armeen, embraced him. Like the adults, they shouted thousands of questions at him.
Their words became a distant echo in the back of Aya’s head as she took in the sight with awe. From the bottom it had been hard to see, but now, from up here, she had a firsthand look at the wondrous village. Dozens of sturdy bridges connected countless trees to make an intricate system of paths and intersections. Some of the bridges led up to even higher section of the trees. Some of the trunks had been cut open and doors had been attached to them, essentially making them small homes. At other spots, entire wooden huts, much better looking than the ones on the ground, had been built. Many of them had windows where people could be seen going about their business.
What amazed Aya the most was the fine detail of the work. Like a complex puzzle that had been completed, everything looked completely safe and in place. There wasn’t a single board, nail, or plank out of place. Whoever had constructed this village was obviously an exceptionally experienced craftsman. And even though she was used to living in a large city, she found herself enjoying the rustic feeling of the place.
“Who built this?” she asked once the children had scattered away.
“I did,” said Armeen matter-of-factly.
“You?” She was certain he was jesting. Armeen was much too young to have created something this grand. Where would he have found the time and the skills? No, this was surely the work of a patient, age-experienced master, something Armeen could not possibly be. “I’m serious. Who did this?”
“I’m also being serious. I did.”
“Fine. Don’t tell me, then.”
Armeen shrugged indifferently and motioned for her to follow him. They walked past dozens of people. Many of the men were carrying planks up a sloped bridge. She took this as a sign that they were expanding, making their home in the trees larger. A number of women cooked outside their homes over an open fire. Many of the kids ran around, playing with a number of balls. Despite the extremely wide walkways, she couldn’t help but feel a bit scared for them.
“They’re perfectly safe,” said Armeen, noticing her discomfort. “The railings I built for them will hold.”
She nodded and continued to follow in silence until they arrived at a cabin that looked unlike any other she’d seen thus far. This one had no windows and, like a layer of bark, completely surrounded a thick tree. It had no roof.
Armeen pushed the door and held it open, which Aya took as a sign to go in.
The place was simple enough. In fact, it reminded her of Armeen’s Gold Chaser quarters in more ways than one. There was a small bed against the wall that looked as if it had never been slept on. A desk, much smaller than the one on the ship, rested beside it. She walked around the circumference of the tree. Large holes had been cut into it, making room for hundreds of neatly arranged books. They were arranged according to color. There was an entire line of red-leather bound books, followed by green ones, black ones, and so on.
Armeen took out a yellow-stained parchment and handed it to Aya. “I think this is it.”
She examined the map with great interest. Indeed this was the map written by the Linius, the famous Master Record Keeper from Missea. Once, she’d read that the man had collected maps from around Va’siel and had himself mapped his hometown and surrounding areas. She knew exactly what to look for.
While she searched, Armeen drank from his many bottles of wine. After about twenty minutes, he s
lumped against the wall. His cheeks were slightly rosy and his feet wobbly.
“There!” She pointed at the straight golden-colored line on the map that stretched from Missea to the Coral Sea. That had to be the hidden pass that Linius had found, it just had to be.
“I wonder why he never revealed the location,” slurred Armeen. “A shortcut like that could shave days, even weeks off travel. If you hadn’t discovered his method of mapmaking, the pass would have gone undiscovered for who knows how many more years.”
“You’re amazing,” said Armeen. He stared directly into Aya’s eyes, and, for a fraction of a second, she saw sadness in them. It wasn’t the first time she had noticed it. She sensed it before when they were alone in his quarters. It was faint, and to anyone else it might have gone unnoticed but not to her. Then, quite suddenly, Armeen grabbed her by her shoulders and leaned in, going for her lips.
Her heart beat faster as she moved her head to the side. The captain’s kiss missed, landing on her cheek and leaving behind a lingering scent of alcohol.
He breathed in heavily and, still clutching her arms, took a step back. “My apologies. It’s that Rohad Falcon, right?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “What am I saying? Of course you have feelings for him. It’s as clear as day.”
“That’s not it.” Aya excelled at garnering tidbits of information and discerning a bigger picture. The more she stared at Armeen, the clearer his story unfolded before her.
“What was her name?” she said.
“Whose name?” asked Armeen, taking a seat on the rocking chair. He looked up at the leaves above.
“What was the name of the girl I remind you of? When you see me, I sense you searching for her. Was she also a slave?”
His eyes grew wide. “How did you know?”
“Back in the Gold Chaser you found every excuse imaginable not to read, even though you have dozens of books.” She motioned to the books inside the tree. “Usually people categorize their book alphabetically, but you categorized yours by color.” She met his eyes. “You don’t know how to read, do you?”
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