“He's right about one thing, though,” said Bifor. “Carnagian royalty has used this exact method in the past to discover spies among their servants.”
“Has it really worked as well as Malock says it does?” said Kinker.
Bifor shrugged. “Sometimes. Sometimes, they got the wrong man. And some cases are still being debated by Carnagian historians today. Depends on who you listen to.”
“There must surely be a more reliable way to out the spy,” said Kinker. “What about you, Bifor? Can't you use your magic to read everyone's minds or something?”
Bifor folded his arms across his massive chest and shook his head. “I'm not a telemancer. I know enough telemancy to perform telekinesis, but I can't read peoples' minds. Telepathy is an extremely difficult to learn technique that requires years of commitment to Hamin, Goddess of the Mind. Being a follower of Xocion, I've never had the opportunity to learn it.”
The crowd kept yelling at Malock and one sailor near the front even tossed a boot at him. The Captain dodged the boot and yelled, “I am your Captain and what I say goes! Besides, there is only one spy. There is a low chance any of you will draw the Tinkar card, so what do you have to worry about if you know you aren't the spy? I want everyone to get organized into a line right now or else I will have Banika flog you. Got it?”
Despite their continued grumbling, the sailors began to organize into a line that started at the table at the front and twisted and turned from the quarter deck to the bow. Banika and Vashnas helped organization, going up and down the line to make sure that everyone was where they were supposed to be. Kinker found himself four from the back, with Jenur, Deddio, an aquarian sailor whose name he didn't know, and Bifor behind him.
Once the line settled down, it slowly but tensely began to advance. Every time a sailor picked up a card to reveal that it was a god or goddess other than Tinkar, the line grew tenser. Even Kinker, who knew for a fact that he was not a spy, felt the tension fill his bones, making it difficult if not impossible to remain calm. He just hoped that Malock knew what he was doing.
“So who do you think the spy is?” Jenur said to Kinker as they both watched Arisha Frag pass them, looking quite relieved as she went to join the others that had already picked a card.
Kinker looked ahead and behind him quickly. “No idea. I didn't even know there was a spy on this ship until today. It could be anybody.”
“Do you think it's me?” Jenur asked.
Kinker shook his head immediately. “No. Why would I ever think that?”
“Just wanted to be sure,” said Jenur. “When you said it could be anybody ... well ...”
Kinker patted her on the shoulder. “Jenur, I'd never suspect you of being a spy. I know you well enough to trust that you would never intentionally sabotage this voyage. You're a better person than that.”
Jenur smiled and even looked a little embarrassed. “Thanks, Kinks. I mean it.”
“What about me?” said Deddio, who was behind Jenur. “Am I on your list of suspects?”
“I don't believe anyone on the fishing crew could possibly be a spy,” said Kinker. “So you don't have to worry about that, Deddio.”
Deddio sighed in relief as the lined moved forward. “Of course, I suppose it doesn't really matter if you think I'm a spy or not. Only what the cards say matter.”
Kinker nodded. “Unfortunately.”
Perhaps it was the tension that permeated the air, but the line seemed to take forever to go forward. Some sailors wept with joy when they drew a card and it turned out to be a deity other than Tinkar. Others simply got on their hands and knees and praised whatever deity whose card they had drawn, some even pledging their lives to that particular deity right there and then if they hadn't before. Kinker prayed a quick prayer to Kano that he wouldn't be the one who drew the Tinkar card.
Finally, after what seemed like hours (though it was probably only an hour and a half, if even that), Kinker's turn finally came. Malock was sitting in front of his stateroom on a rickety old chair on the other side of the wooden table, his hands folded. Vashnas stood by his side, a hand on his shoulder, while Banika stood on the table's right, probably ready to grab whoever drew the Tinkar card.
There were now only five cards left, making the deck small and flat. A large pile of cards lay scattered to the deck's right, all of the cards that the other sailors had drawn, all of them not Tinkar. The backs of the cards were emblazoned with a shooting star, while the faces featured stylized depictions of each god or goddess.
Before Kinker drew his, he glanced between Vashnas and Banika and said, “Have they drawn theirs yet?”
“Yep,” said Malock. “Vashnas got Hollech. Banika got Yaona. They're both safe.”
Kinker gulped. “Okay, then. Good to know.”
“Don't be so worried,” said Malock. “I don't suspect you of being the spy at all. Just want to be thorough and fair. No need to take it personally.”
Kinker didn't know how to respond to that, so he simply reached down with a shaking hand, grabbed the top card of the deck, and flipped it over onto its face.
He let out a sigh of relief when he saw that it was Kano, not Tinkar, on the card's face.
Malock smiled. “Knew it couldn't be you. All right. You can go now and let the next person come forward.”
“Y-Yes,” said Kinker, who hadn't realized until now just how tense he had been. “Of course.”
Kinker walked a few feet away from the table and then stopped to watch. Only Jenur, Deddio, the aquarian sailor, and Bifor were left, which meant that one of them had to be the spy. Kinker didn't think any of them could be the spy. Well, okay, the aquarian sailor (who he was pretty sure was a member of the cleaning crew, though he couldn't be sure) was suspicious, but he doubted that Jenur, Deddio, or Bifor were the spy. It just didn't seem possible.
Jenur came up next. She strode up to the table without hesitation, threw a confident smile in Kinker's direction, and, without saying a word, flipped over the top card of the deck.
A loud gasp came from Malock and Vashnas and the next moment, Jenur was pinned to the deck by Banika. The boatswain had twisted Jenur's arms behind her back and was putting a pair of large, rusted shackles around her wrists.
“Hey!” Jenur shouted, struggling against Banika's hold on her. “It was a mistake! I'm innocent!”
Kinker stepped forward, a hand held out, but then Malock noticed him and said, “Don't, Kinker. Otherwise, Banika will have to arrest you, too.”
“But ... why?” said Kinker, though he already knew the answer. “Why is Banika arresting her?”
Malock held up the card Jenur had drawn. On it was a picture of an elderly man, his skin as pale as the sandy beaches of Ikadori Island, covered in robes with clocks etched in them, a large sundial topping his staff.
“She drew the right card,” said Malock, sounding triumphant. “Tinkar, the God of Fate. Now take her to my stateroom, Banika, and make sure she can't get free. I don't want that spy causing any more problems for us ever again.”
***
Chapter Eleven
It was amazing how quickly the tide of opinion turned against Jenur. Not an hour earlier most of the crew had thought that Jenur was just like the rest of them: hardworking, loyal to the ship and Captain, and willing to do whatever necessary to get Malock to World's End. Among the fishing crew, Jenur had been almost like family. At the very least, she had been liked and respected and no one had ever thought there was anything suspicious about her.
Now, however, wherever Kinker went, he heard sailors bashing Jenur. Some said they should have seen it all along. After all, she rarely, if ever, talked about her past to anyone, had not even told anyone which God she worshiped. Her badmouthing of Malock was well-known and a few of the older sailors (not including Kinker) pointed out how youngsters nowadays weren't as respectful of authority nowadays.
All of these attacks on Jenur's character made Kinker mad. He got so mad, in fact, that he actually punched out t
he aquarian sailor who had been behind Jenur. The sailor, whose name was Ranof and who resembled a starfish, was saying that he'd once overheard Jenur planning to kill Malock in his sleep, a lie so wrong that Kinker didn't regret punching him at all.
Unfortunately, Ranof was a lot younger than Kinker and as a result a lot stronger. He soundly knocked Kinker off his feet in one blow and probably would have wailed on the old man if Malock—who had been walking around ordering the sailors back to work—had not stepped in and broke up the fight. He sent Ranof below deck to clean out the hold and helped Kinker to his feet.
“What was that all about, Kinker?” said Malock, watching as Ranof stomped toward the hatch. “I've never seen you get into a fight with anybody before. What made you attack Ranof?”
Kinker pulled his arm out of Malock's hands and glared at the captain. “He said that Jenur was planning to assassinate you. I was merely correcting him.”
“Correcting him?” said Malock. “Is that what you Destanians call punching someone out?”
“Don't play dumb with me, young man,” said Kinker. “You know Jenur is innocent. She saved you from Garnal and led the rebellion that saved the whole ship from the Gray Pirates. That is proof enough of her innocence.”
Malock looked out over bulwarks. They were standing on the starboard side of the ship, which was where Ranof had been entertaining some friends with that horrible lie of his. Ranof's friends had fled the minute Kinker had punched him, however, so it was just Malock and Kinker now.
“Well, I admit that is one point in her favor,” said Malock. “But you know, I didn't choose her. The cards did. And the cards are never wrong.”
“Never?” said Kinker. “Bifor told me that they don't always work.”
“What does Bifor know?” said Malock. “He's a pagomancer. He doesn't know anything about fate or the future.”
“But you must still recognize that this is wrong,” said Kinker. “Jenur has always proved herself an innocent friend, ally, and fisherman. Sure, she's always been blunt about her opinions, but in all the time I've known her, I have never heard her utter even one word against this voyage.”
“Obviously,” said Malock. “She doesn't want anyone to know who she really is. If you were a spy bent on stopping this voyage, would you tell anyone?”
Kinker bent his lower lip. “But there is no evidence against her, besides some questionable cards. You're making a huge mistake.”
“Actually, I'd say there's plenty of evidence against her, looking back,” said Malock. “Consider, for example, how secretive she is about her past. She has never told anyone where she came from, what gods she worships, or anything of the sort. Has she ever told you any of that?”
Kinker's hands balled into fists. “Well, no, but—”
“See, she hasn't even told you and you're supposed to be friends,” said Malock, smirking in satisfaction. “And you know why she saved me from Garnal? Because she wanted to kill me herself. Wouldn't be surprised if she's actually a ship saboteur in disguise. She's young enough.”
“What's a ship saboteur?” said Kinker. “Never heard of 'em.”
“The lowest breed of sailor in the entire Crystal Sea,” said Malock, leaning against the bulwarks. “They sink or sabotage ships for pay. It's very common for Northern royalty to hire ship saboteurs to sink the ships of rival royals for political reasons.”
Kinker raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you have some experience in the matter.”
“Of course not,” said Malock, a little too quickly. “The Carnagian Royal Family has always treated its rivals and enemies fairly. We would never stoop so low as to hire a ship saboteur to harm our enemies. That would make us less than scum.”
“Right,” said Kinker. “But how can you be sure Jenur is a ship saboteur?”
“They're usually quite young,” said Malock. “And they tend to be young women. They use their youthful charms to fool everyone into thinking they're naïve kids who don't know what they're doing. In reality, these 'kids' are doing everything within their power to sabotage a ship's voyage, doing things like ripping sails, destroy rudders, or even poisoning captains. Most of them are self-taught, but a few of the older ones have taken to teaching new ship saboteurs even better ways to sabotage voyages.”
Kinker shook his head. “Jenur's young, true, but she hasn't done a thing to sabotage this ship. Your voyage has simply had a run of incredibly bad luck, coupled with some bad decisions on your part.”
Malock stood to his full height. “Are you insinuating that I am a bad Captain?”
“I am just saying that you can't trace every bad thing that's happened on this voyage to one woman,” said Kinker, not backing down. “Paranoia never helps anyone.”
“It's not paranoia,” said Malock. “It's simply logic. We have a mysterious young woman who fits all the right criteria for a ship saboteur who picked up the Tinkar card, singling her out as a Tinkarian, which is what the messenger said the spy was.”
“Are you saying that a god hired a human to sabotage this voyage?” said Kinker. “You do realize how crazy that sounds, don't you?”
“It's not that crazy,” said Malock. “On Ikadori Island—”
He stopped speaking, like he was about to say something that he wasn't supposed to.
“Yes?” said Kinker. “What happened on Ikadori Island?”
“Nothing,” said Malock abruptly. “Absolutely nothing. It doesn't concern you. Now if you will excuse me, I see a couple of sailors over there lazing off when they clearly should be working.”
Malock tried to leave, but Kinker grabbed his arm and said, “Hold on, Malock. I want to make one more request of you.”
Malock threw an irritable look over his shoulder at Kinker. “What is it?”
“I want to speak to Jenur one last time before you hand her over to the messenger,” said Kinker. “I won't try to help her escape or anything. I just want to talk to her one last time in private.”
Kinker worried Malock would say no, but to his relief the Captain nodded and said, “All right, Kinker. Banika is currently interrogating Jenur right now, just to find out what other things she may have been up to, but you can go and tell her Malock sent you. She'll know.”
“Thank you,” said Kinker, letting go of Malock's arm. “I appreciate it.”
“But just so you know, talking to her won't change anything,” said Malock. “All it does is provide some closure for you. Don't expect me to soften up and let her go or anything.”
“Of course,” said Kinker, with more than a hint of sarcasm. “Why would I ever think that?”
-
When Kinker came to the stateroom, knocked on the door, and told Banika that the Captain had sent him, Banika let him inside. She stepped outside when he asked her to give them some privacy, but even when he closed the door, he had a feeling that Banika had her eyes on him, like she could see through walls.
Kinker had never been in Malock's stateroom before, but he marveled at how messy it was. Books, maps, and writing utensils were scattered across the floor, the sofa was upturned, and the curtains on the window were ripped and smelled of mildew. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, considering the state of the rest of the ship, but he thought Malock at least would have tried to keep his personal quarters nice.
At the end of the room was a large wood desk and in front of that desk, on the same rickety chair that Malock had sat on earlier, was Jenur. She was tied down to the chair, her arms at her sides and her legs tied to the chair's legs. She didn't look injured or harmed in any way, but she did look resigned to her fate.
“Kinks?” said Jenur, raising her head to look at him. “The old witch decided to let you in?”
Kinker approached her and stopped a few feet from her. “Malock gave me permission to speak to you one last time before ... well, you know.”
“Ah,” said Jenur. “You know what? Forget what I said earlier, about Malock having good reasons for what he does. He's just a bastard, plai
n and simple. Like all royalty, actually.”
The bitterness in her tone was so sharp that Kinker was not sure what to say at first.
“So what do you want to talk about?” said Jenur. “This isn't really the best time for casual conversations about fishing, you know.”
“That's not what I came here to talk with you about,” said Kinker. “I just came to talk to you about you. Your past, where you came from, what you believe, things like that. I figure, since this is going to be the last time I ever see you, we should get to know each other better.”
Jenur looked away. “I'm not sure you want to know my past. If you do, you'll just think that I deserve to be tied up and handed over to the gods for punishment.”
“It can't have been that bad,” said Kinker. “You're not a bad person.”
Jenur chuckled. “Yeah. You say that after I murdered two pirates in cold blood. Excellent sense of morals there, Kinks.”
Kinker scratched the back of his head irritably. “I still don't believe you're the spy. I think Malock and his deck of cards are completely wrong.”
“They are,” said Jenur, slumping in her chair. “I've tried explaining that to him and Banika, but when those two idiots get an idea in their heads you just can't convince them it's wrong. I'm just waiting until that messenger guy comes by to take me away.”
“Even so, we have an entire day before that happens,” said Kinker. “Surely, you and I could have one last conversation? Why is that so hard for you?”
“Because there is a good reason I've kept my past a secret,” said Jenur. “I revealed too much when I took down those two pirates. I'd rather you remember me for who you met me as, rather than who I am.”
She spoke like a much older woman, even though she was only eighteen or so. It reminded Kinker of his own secrets, which sparked an idea in his head to get her talking.
“Let's make a deal, then,” said Kinker. “A trade, so to speak.”
Jenur frowned. “Kinks, you do realize I don't have anything to give you, right? I've only got the clothes on my back now and I'm pretty certain you're not a young woman, so they'd probably look really awkward on you.”
The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock Page 16
