Chapter 10.
The ship slammed against Shi’s seawall again, even though it hung halfway up the cliff wall from its winch chains. Another wave hurdled out of the ocean and bashed against the seawall. Salty, fishy spray soared even higher.
Viper clung to the quarterdeck’s railing with both hands and fought to stay upright, but the deck bounced and pitched more fiercely than it had during the squall two days ago.
Not that he’d noticed the squall. He’d spent those hours hanging over the edge of his bed and hugging his bucket. Had his seasickness been this bad when he was younger?
Wishing he could go back to bed, he forced his eyes to focus on the ship’s captain. “What do you mean, they won’t lift us over the seawall?”
Miquel shrugged and spat over the rail. “New rules, they tell me. If a ship bears Shi registry, they’ll lift her over. Otherwise they lift her to this midway stage. We unload our cargo here. I was planning to spend three days in Shi, and now they tell me I have to be gone by sunset. I haven’t got time for your whining, boy.” Miquel stomped off.
The heat of a funeral pyre rose into his face. “Just because you didn’t manage to lay any of us… Thunderer spit on your profits!”
“I think he already did.” Lorel grabbed his arm and shepherded him down the ladder to the main deck. “Shiloh says he’d planned on finding cargo here, he ain’t got none lined up. He’ll have to hustle to get a load now.”
“Serves the shark right.” He scanned Shi’s pathetic landing area once again. It was barely halfway up the seawall, and waves flooded it every few minutes. It was narrow, maybe a wagon’s width across, and slimy. The dock crew working it all wore ropes to prevent them from being swept into the ocean.
Lorel contemplated those ropes. “Not a job I’d care to take.”
“Agreed.” Finally he spotted the dock boss. “I’ll go arrange transport to the city. You and Tsai’dona get the horses and wagon up to the deck. Tell Bess to stay inside and keep the cub quiet.”
She nodded and crept down the ramp, fighting to retain her balance and slipping every time a wave crashed against the ship’s hull.
He skidded to the railing and hailed the dock boss, but it was several minutes before the man sauntered over. Carefully controlling his temper, as well as his sick stomach, Viper bowed respectfully.
“Hurry up, boy,” the boss shouted.
“How much to lift a wagon and team up to the city?” He shouted over the roar of the waves.
“Fifty nobles.”
“Fifty?” In gold? They must think he was too inexperienced to bargain. He’d put only fifteen nobles in his belt pouch, but that should be plenty. “I’ll give you–”
“No haggling, boy,” the man shouted. “City sets the price. Five hundred patrons or fifty nobles, or drive it along the ledge.”
He wanted to throw up. Or throw something at this guy, even though it would make the problem worse. “The money’s in the wagon. I’ll give it to you once we’re on the lift.”
The dock boss nodded and strutted away.
Anger thudded at his temples. He took a deep breath, straightened his back, and stomped to the ramp into the hold.
Tsai’dona waited at the bottom, clinging to her mare’s reins. She’d lost more weight, and her face was still green, but her expression was determined. “There’s a ledge up to the city. Once we’re off the ship, I plan to gallop all the way to the top.”
“Let your horse choose the gait.” He’d read it in Harper’s The Handbook of the Horse. Or was it in Carriage Driving Techniques? It still sounded like good advice, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what it meant.
Tsai’dona nodded and led the shivering mare up the ramp.
Now, where was his other bodyguard? He staggered onward.
Deep inside the hold, Lorel was pounding her fists on the wagon and cursing furiously.
Bess peeked through the window on the far side and waved at him.
He gestured for her to close and lock the shutters. Nobody needed to witness this particular temper tantrum.
Though his turybird did have some cause for her anger. She’d managed to harness the horses. But now both were on their knees, and given the flatness of their ears, they had no intention of getting up. Ever.
“Loom-warping mules!” Blood oozed from her hands where she’d struck yellow starfish spines.
With any luck, if he stayed away from her, the blood magic wouldn’t seek him out. There was no time to deal with it now. And he didn’t want to fight the temptation of using its power. Who knew what it would do in a situation like this.
Lorel continued to scream and batter the wagon’s side. Praise the Thunderer, she had better sense than to hit the horses. “Blood-woven cows! I should–”
The blasted ship tilted again. Water splashed down the ramp.
“Turybird, shut up and back off.” He slipped, skidded across the hold, and thudded against Periwinkle’s knees. “Sorry about that.”
The big gelding nudged him mournfully.
“Now, listen here, earth children.” He spoke softly, loud enough both horses could hear, but careful that Lorel and Bess could not. “If you don’t get up, we’ll all have to go back to sea. I know it’s hard to walk; I’m having trouble myself. But I would like to have solid ground under my feet. Wouldn’t you?”
The roans pricked their ears at him.
“Good. Up we go.” He stood and pulled on the reins. “Up, my friends. Up!”
The horses struggled to their feet, but another wave hit the ship and knocked them down. They looked at him reproachfully.
He stroked their foreheads. “Pretend it’s an earthquake. Lean against each other.” He twitched one of Periwinkle’s reins. “Now try again. Up!”
They surged to their feet and huddled together. A wave knocked the ship against the seawall, but the team stayed upright.
“Perfect!” He rested one hand on the gelding’s leg and tugged gently on the rein. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll help as best I can.”
Slowly, unsteadily, the team plodded across the hold. As soon as the front wheels of the wagon touched the ramp, he closed his eyes and concentrated on making it lighter.
The team lunged forward.
The rein tore from his hands. “No, not yet! Wait for me!”
The wagon’s front wheel clipped his shoulder and tossed him against a pile of crates.
Blast, that hurt. He’d be bruised tomorrow. If he lived so long.
“Weaver drowned in tears!” Lorel rushed to his side, scooped him up, and raced after the horses.
The roans sprinted up the ramp, but stopped once the wagon was fully on the deck.
But the wagon kept going. It pivoted around them, skidded toward the rail, and dragged the horses after it.
The dock crew stopped work and watched from their ledge, all of them laughing and pointing.
Lorel yelled, “Stop!”
Wonderful idea. He dropped his chant and willed the wagon heavy.
It slid faster.
The dock crew screamed and dashed toward the seawall. Some of them climbed their safety ropes.
But his wagon wasn’t likely to hit them. It would slide into the gap between the ship and the seawall. And be crushed.
Thunderer! Kyri and Bess and the serdil cub were inside. If they weren’t mashed, they’d all drown, carried to the bottom by half a ton of Crayl steel weapons.
He opened his mind and pulled.
Sweat rolled down his face and mixed with salt spray. Muscles in his shoulders cramped. His head tried to explode.
The wagon slipped a little further, but finally stopped. Two inches from the rail.
“Shuttle on the Loom,” Lorel whispered, and squeezed him tighter against her chest.
He released the magic.
The headache eased but didn’t go away. Sweat still poured down his back, but his hammering heart slowed to a steady, if overloud, drumbeat. Blast, he was tired. Nothing he could do about it now bu
t keep on moving.
Once he was free to move. “Put me down, turybird.”
Sailors dashed past them and around the wagon, carrying cargo and tossing it to the landing. They didn’t seem to care if the crew caught the crates or not.
Lorel looked at him as though she’d forgotten she’d picked him up, but lowered his boots to the deck. She hurried forward and inspected the wagon, and afterward, the team.
Showed where her priorities were. He’d been certain she’d check the horses first. When had she changed?
She glanced back at him. “No damage I can find. That was some wild magic, kid. Next time try and keep it simple.”
As if he’d had time to plan anything. He smiled wearily and staggered to the horses’ heads. “Next time talk to the horses nicer. We’ll get farther.”
She snorted.
“You were never mean to Nightshade. Why–”
“They ain’t the same.” She glowered at the horses, but dropped her eyes to the deck. “They’re purely overgrown cart ponies.”
Poppy squealed indignantly.
Lorel kicked at a wheel. “Hurry up, let’s get them nags on the lift before they jump off the Shuttle. Or off the miswoven ship.”
The poor horses were behaving far better than a certain girl he could name. She had some nerve, blaming the team.
Simply to show her what he thought about the whole situation, he took his time and stroked each horse soothingly. He scowled at the turybird, grasped Poppy’s bridle, and led the team to the opening in the rail.
A wave slammed against the hull.
The ship pitched and crashed against the cliff wall.
He lost his grip on the bridle and thudded to his knees, but the horses leaned together and stood firm.
Another wave hit the ship and the seawall, drenching all the dock hands.
He wrapped his arms around Poppy’s foreleg.
The ship surged high above the landing and seemed to hover in the air. Eventually it slid down and hung cockeyed in its supportive chains.
The horses whinnied, but stayed upright.
Soggy dock hands scrambled up their tethers onto the seawall landing.
“This isn’t going to be my day,” Viper muttered. At least his clothing was only misted on instead of as soaking wet as the dock workers’.
But the wave was a warning he couldn’t simply drive the wagon off the ship. “Lorel! Can you read the surf? Tell me when you see a longish dry spell. We’ll have to make a run for it.”
She stared at him, but shrugged. “Weaver protect us fools.”
He led the team as close to the edge as he dared.
They looked at him trustingly.
No way could he leave them to figure out the timing on their own. They were smart, but no horse was that smart. He had to guide them. But he’d already proven he was too slow.
Only one thing to do. He had to ride one of them. Even though he’d only ridden once, well, once plus two minutes, in his whole life.
The first part – hopefully the hardest part – was getting onto a horse. He struggled up the harness straps until he landed on his belly on Poppy’s back. He somehow wiggled upright and latched on, a tiny barnacle on a furry ship’s hull. Or deck, actually. His metaphor was falling apart faster than he was falling off. But that was good.
His padded boot was on backward. But it was still attached to his ankle stump. It was tolerable. He’d fix the embarrassing detail later.
He squeezed Poppy’s girth strap with both hands and turned his face toward Lorel.
She slammed her dangling jaw shut, shrugged again, and leaned over the rail.
Minutes passed. He watched her anxiously and ignored the sailors who shouted that he blocked the way. Miquel stopped next to him once, but Viper snubbed him, and the captain stalked away.
Lorel raised her hand tentatively.
“Get ready,” he whispered, tightening his legs on the mare’s wide back.
Strong muscles beneath him tensed.
“Now!” Lorel screamed, chopping air with her hand.
“Go!” He kneed the mare and willed the wagon light. “Run!”
The horses lunged forward.
Eight hooves clattered onto the stone ledge. Muscles bunched, and a second leap brought the wagon safely to the landing.
The ship surged above them.
Water lapped at the horses’ knees and tugged at the wagon’s wheels, but it danced away before his heart slowed enough to let him think. He sighed shakily, leaned across the wagon tongue, and patted Periwinkle’s shivering neck. Both horses were trembling, poor things. At least they were on land now, even if it was miserably wet.
Lorel jumped over the rail and inspected the wagon. “You sure got the Weaver’s own luck today, kid. Not a single starfish fell off. How’s the horses?”
“Everybody seems to be in one piece.” He stroked Poppy’s warm shoulders and suppressed a shudder. “But we have a problem.”
“You’re pointed in the wrong direction.” There wasn’t room for Lorel to walk around the wagon. She climbed up the rear chests to the roof, tromped on the starfish there, and eased down to the driver’s bench. “I don’t figure we can back these nags onto the lift.”
He shook his head. “Maybe if the ledge were wider. As it is, we’re liable to end up in the ocean.”
“You think the dock crew will help?”
“Not without stealing everything we own.” He grimaced. “It costs five hundred in Nashidran silver to take the wagon up on the lift.”
“That’s robbery!” She glowered at the wave frothing around the horses’ ankles. “Well, we can’t stay here.”
“Tsai’dona said something about riding along the ledge.” He studied the ridge in front of him. It seemed to go on forever. “I say we give it a try.”
“Get that circus prop out of the way!” shouted an irate voice.
“Let’s go, kid.” Lorel patted the driver’s bench. “You wanna get back here before we start?”
He glanced across Periwinkle’s shoulders to the seething ocean not far below. Not nearly as far as it ought to be. He winced and tightened his legs against Poppy’s back. “I’ll stay here for now. They’ll need all the encouragement they can get.”
Lorel snorted and shook the reins.
The team plodded forward, slipping every few steps. A wave tugged at their hooves. They ignored it and slowly pulled the wagon along the slimy ridge.
Another wave swept up the seawall, over the ledge. Up, pushing the wagon and team against the wall. Up, up, over his head.
His rear end lost contact with Poppy’s warm fur. Icy water surged between them. He was skidding away from the horse, pulling away from the seawall.
Both horses reared, lifting his head above the water for an instant.
He gasped a breath of air before he went under again. He reached out to touch the stone cliff wall at his side.
The seawall appeared to be gliding upward.
No, it was the horses sinking, dragged down by the wagon.
Water bubbled out of his nose. A silver-finned fish swam past him. Above him.
They were so dead. He’d failed. The quest was finished before it properly began.
No! He would not– He could NOT fall!
No time for blood magic. He’d never notice his own blood in all this water, anyway. But the silver of magic coursed around him. In the water?
The ocean! There was silent magic in the ocean. He reached out and imagined sucking the magic inside himself.
It felt as though he’d filled his body with with distant thunder, with the roar of a waterfall. With the laughter of a Hreshith. He felt like his skin might explode.
But hazy power filled him. Power that was hard to imagine, much less grasp. How could he ever use this eerie magic?
His chest ached from holding his breath. The horse below him paddled franticly, still sinking. Sinking. Even his concentration was sinking.
There was no more time. He had to use
this strange, cold magic.
He willed an image to form inside his mind, of the team and wagon, of himself and Lorel, all surrounded by water.
His ears throbbed from the strain. His head swelled like a bladder filled with air and droning bees. His lungs felt ready to implode.
Thunderer, he ached all over. But he wasn’t done yet. He forced his wave-bedeviled image upward. Up onto the ledge.
It better work. He had no way of knowing when the wagon was safe. No way to even guess. Instead he focused on them all staying firm on the shelf.
But he was still surrounded by water. He had to let go. But only of the wave he’d created.
He released part of the magic.
The wave receded, leaving two shuddering horses and one shaking, soaked kid all safely perched on the ledge.
He released his remaining will with a sigh and pushed his dripping hair of his face with a trembling hand. Or tried to. He was so tired he couldn’t lift his arm above his chest. He could barely breathe.
Burgundy water sloshed off his coat and down his legs, dying Poppy’s ribs pink. There went his handsome new coat. He was harder on clothes than either of the girls.
“That was thread-snipping close, kid,” Lorel shouted cheerfully. “I near to got my boots wet. You need help?”
Viper gasped air to tell her what he thought about her supposed assistance, but snapped his mouth shut.
The wagon was wet all over. A thousand blue starfish waggled their spiny arms at him.
Lorel was as soggy as he was. Her long hair had wriggled out of its braid and spread over her shoulders like curling black seaweed. Her coat was dripping gray dye onto the driver’s bench.
And she was visibly shaking.
It was the first time he’d ever seen her scared. Slavers hadn’t bothered her. Avalanches and volcanos didn’t slow her down. Not even his wayward magic upset her.
She loved the ocean as much as he hated it. Always had, even during an Alignment. But drowning under ferocious waves where there was no hope of rescue did seem to frighten her.
He completely understood. He’d been there. He blinked up at her and smiled tentatively.
“Glad we didn’t go swimming no longer, kid.” She saluted him more respectfully than she ever had before. “Hold on. I see another landing at the bend. Looks like it’s above the wave action.”
Alchemy's Child (The Mindbender's Rise Book 5) Page 13
