by R J Theodore
Her skin prickled all over at the mention of her ship, and she couldn’t help but think of the last Vein merchant she’d dealt with, Zeela. That dealing had pitched Talis and her crew into the gale that brought them to their current state of ruin. Vein people, generally speaking—and confirmed by every individual Talis had ever met—were exceedingly intelligent. Though not themselves violent, they were competitive and adept at manipulating their situations for maximum gain. Talents she wouldn’t mind possessing to such a degree herself. Zeela had no doubt made out far better in the Yu’Nyun contract than Talis. And now another Vein approached with Wind Sabre’s name on their lips. She felt a muscle twinge in her right ankle, as though her body wanted to run.
“Once did,” she confirmed, trying to keep any emotion out of her answer. “She went down over a year ago.”
“Precisely the ship I refer to, Captain. I have an opportunity that will enrich us both if I may be so direct about the matter.” They took a half step closer to her as though they expected a breathless whisper in reply.
Instead Talis gave them only a long, intentional pause. ‘Enrich’ was just the sort of word that could get attention from at least the dock’s clerks, along with the crews loading and unloading their wares and passengers. The private berth was so named for its dedicated dock, not for any seclusion from the yard. Words carried on the wind, and in the crowded harbor, they didn’t have far to carry to the next set of ears.
As if to emphasize the point, a sharp caw sounded from across the beach. Talis tensed. It seemed to her as though the world went silent as the cry echoed off the slope of the volcano and skittered over the rocky shoreline. At this moment, a Vein person referencing her ship and the deposed goddess of the Bone both chose to make an appearance?
If this person knew about Wind Sabre, they might know about Onaya too. In which case, that bird cry signaled to them as well as to Talis that the Bone Mother was watching from the edges of the forest.
Could there be any coincidence on the timing? Talis felt a tingle up her spine and down the backs of her arms, a trail of warning that made the old brand on her forearm itch as though she were crawling in mites.
But the stranger in silver robes gave no outward indication of hearing the raven call. The Bone captain appeared from her great cabin and took the clipboard and pen from Talis. She was dressed as befit a wealthy merchant, but beneath her fine double-breasted vest and gem-encrusted armbands, her biceps belied she was as much a coil of dangerous muscle as any Bone warrior. Talis kept an eye on the woman, aware of how many blades could be hidden within the loosely flowing pants and within reach beneath the back of her vest. But the captain didn’t make eye contact, a direct sign she intended to take no part in this conversation.
Talis focused on the silver-robed and silver-tongued solicitor. “Direct, please. But discretion moreover. Can you avoid specifics and still transmit your meaning?”
One of their outer hands gestured to the great cabin’s open door. Their robe made no sound as they moved, though the rippling folds caught the light of Nexus and flashed green against the deep brown tones of the ship that silhouetted them. “Perhaps we should move inside for a more detail-oriented conversation? Complete with an itemized list—and decimal places.”
Well, if they were going to pick words to pique her interest, those would be the ones. Talis caught herself about to chew her lip. Eneil would sense that, too, and know they had her bundled up beside herself with curiosity. She credited them for the grand entrance and theatrics. But that was the plan, wasn’t it? Invoke the name of her ship. Come at her with the familiar—not to mention sorely missed—title of captain. Surely, the display of wealth in the details of their ship was as deliberate as their smile. They represented money. Lots of it.
And they wanted to talk about Wind Sabre.
“May I ask what, exactly, brings you to Heddard Bay?”
“I serve the interests of a party who is very interested in helping you return to your previous career path.”
Interested in returning her to . . . Whatever this person was about, they were taking careful steps to draw her in. If she wasn’t just as careful, she’d end up tangled in the rigging without a knife.
The Bone captain, who still had not looked directly at her or flexed a muscle in any threatening way, handed back the clipboard with the forms completed and knuckled the brim of her hat to Talis before moving off again.
“I have a shift to finish. I can come back later if you’ll still be here.”
Eneil’s smile broadened as though Talis had given them exactly what they wanted. “Most certainly, Captain. Return when your employer has released you for the evening.”
If they kept calling her ‘Captain,’ Talis feared she was going to up and deck them.
Vein merchants with mysterious offers to discuss. Talis had run smuggled goods for their kind in the past without much thought. She took the contracts, found what they wanted, and delivered everything on time. Why should now be any different?
But she knew why. She silently cursed Zeela for that. One greedy woman’s involvement in her troubles wasn’t any reason to judge them all as sinister. At least, not before Talis heard what Eneil had to say about Wind Sabre.
“This evening, then.”
Eneil dipped their head a small measure.
It took all the self-control that remained for Talis to ignore that raven call from up the beach until her lunch break. Stones crunched under her boots as she walked up to the tree line edging the gravel beach. Right to the edge of the forest where Talis, Dug, and Sophie spent their first nights on Heddard Bay, camped near the shore where the tocks and most other wildlife—beside the rock crabs—wouldn’t bother them.
There, Onaya perched upon an enormous felled tree, impatiently preening her feathers, framed dramatically by the forest behind her, and the volcano behind that.
Onaya ceased grooming when Talis stopped a few feet away from her. “Good, you heard my warning about that Vein merchant.”
All ego, from dagger-tipped beak to hooked talon. All vanity. All gods-rotted self-importance. And Talis had allowed herself to be summoned, like a handmaiden, into the intolerable woman’s presence.
“As if I needed a warning.” She and Onaya Bone hadn’t gotten on very well since they’d ground the keel of their life raft against this same rocky shore.
Onaya canted her head to peer down at her with those deep, brown raven eyes. Focused those other, more unsettling magenta eyes on her as well. Talis tried to breathe and calm the churning of her blood before it boiled over.
“You no longer respect me.” Onaya’s voice had once been as rich and silken as Eneil’s, thick with the threat of magic. Now it was flat, mortal, and roughened by the abrasive texture of the raven’s cry.
Talis sighed and crossed her arms, leaning into her right hip. “Respect? Awe, maybe. Fear? I’ve got a lot going on these days, without worrying about how to feel about you.”
A sharp clack of the serrated beak—Onaya’s version of a laugh. She turned her head sharply as something small scurried through the underbrush. A moment passed, and then she focused on Talis again. “I watched Im Ufite Rantor approach.”
Talis tried to divine the truth between the words. She wanted to ask, Yes, woman, but did you send them? Not the right question. Not the type to get an honest answer.
“Where’d they fly in from?”
“Provi Tur.”
“Huh.” A Vein city. Talis had never been there, but no doubt it was as marble-columned and beautiful as the rest of them. She felt some knot loosen a bit. That Eneil zur Selki came in with a Bone crew could be unrelated to Onaya’s presence, too. The Vein often employed Bone guards and ships. So far, there was no evidence that they worked for anyone she’d rather avoid. No evidence they didn’t, either, of course.
“So why’d you sound off back there?”
“Between Provi Tur and Heddard Bay, Im Ufite Rantor detoured through Bone space, flying close to Nexus, adding two unnecessary days to their trip from there to here.”
Confirming the position of Wind Sabre no doubt. “Did they send anyone down to flotsam?”
Bone salvagers were as capable as she was. There was the possibility they’d already emptied Wind Sabre’s hold. But no. It wouldn’t make much sense for them to come to her if they’d already cleared it.
The raven laughed at her again. “Nothing and no one descended, but I heard low percussive pulses coming off their ship. Almost beyond my range of hearing. It was done in several locations.”
Talis felt her brows knit together, and a dull ache at the base of her skull made her realize she was clenching her jaw. “What’s that mean?”
“Ask your new friend. I merely thought you should know where they’ve been sticking their fragile nose.”
Talis nodded. “You flew all that way along behind them, then, just watching out for me and mine?”
Onaya tossed her head, and her crest of feathers shifted from black, to green, to purple, and back. “Of course not.”
For Onaya to become less selfish would take an even bigger transformation. Talis doubted even Meran had that kind of power. Whatever the former Bone goddess did to aid Talis, there was no doubt she did to aid herself as well.
“So you think I should talk to them.”
“No. I want you to enter that interview with the knowledge that I want the same thing they do.”
“And what is that?”
“To provide you with an opportunity to salvage your ship. But, instead of working for some unknown Vein merchant who dresses in silent stealth and who wants you to salvage dangerous technology from the Yu’Nyun wrecks, you will work for me. You already know my motivations.”
“That’s putting it mildly. Your motivations left us—including one of your own people—on this island for two years.”
A shrug of those flashing feathers. “You refused my offer.”
“I refused to let you use me. Us.”
“Was I meant to make a counter offer? At what point did you misunderstand me? There is no barter. There is no negotiation. You will have your fortunes back, but you will serve me.”
“And what would you have us do, these two years later, that your priestesses and warriors can’t do for you?”
“I want a simula, and I want the other four rings.”
Talis outright laughed at the former goddess. “Right, so instead of working for some unknown Vein merchant who wants dangerous alien technology, we would work for you, and get you dangerous alien technology.”
“Go. Talk to them.” Talis was sure Onaya would have sniffed with distaste, if she had her old nose. “Get a sense for the intrigue and danger that person is tangled up in; then return here to accept my offer in its place.”
Talis was about to tell Onaya, not for the first time, where she could lodge that offer, but the raven beat her enormous wings, close enough to Talis’s face that she flinched, and lifted off, winging toward the center of the island. Had to have that last word. Had to put the wind up Talis’s back, as if it wasn’t already.
Two years. It had been two years since that woman, the Mother of Bone, had been to Heddard Bay. Since Talis, speaking for her crew, had declined her offer of indentured servitude and the raven had sulked off into the skies. She hadn’t even asked after Dug.
And now she’d gotten Talis’s sails all wrinkled before her mysterious meeting with Eneil.
What a fever ride that day had been. Talis stayed on the docks for as long as she could at the end of her shift before returning to punch her time card and turn over the forms to the clerks.
“Talis!” Nisa’s eyebrows would have been way up if they hadn’t been fixed in her chitin mask. “You look thoroughly exhausted. Come have some tea. I’ve just poured my own; the water’s already hot.”
Her crew would be waiting, and she had entirely too much to tell them. But she also still had to go face Eneil and their offer, which left her empty stomach lurching and her chest burning with stress. A cup of Nisa’s ginger tea wouldn’t do her any harm, and it would give her a chance to switch from her Heddard Bay Harbor Customs Inspection Mode back to . . . back to Smuggler Captain Mode.
Gods rot. That wasn’t a title she’d used to think about herself in far too long.
She collapsed, slouching into one of the straight-backed chairs at an empty desk, and Nisa busied herself with the office’s kettle, humming as she wheeled about the wall-mounted counter where the clerks kept all the makings of their afternoon tea.
The filing trays caught Talis’s eye. “Hasn’t just been busy for me, today. How are you still so peaceful?”
Nisa’s eyes flashed with delight as she pressed a mug into Talis’s hands. “The more we take in, the more fun I have. You’re off the clock, now. I could spike that.”
The strong smell of the ginger hit the inside of Talis’s skull like a nail hammered home. She considered it, and any other day wouldn’t have had to think that hard. But on an empty stomach before sitting down to talk business with Eneil? “No thanks, it’s been too long since I’ve had it; I wouldn’t make it home.”
Nisa took a glass decanter from her desk drawer. “I hope you don’t mind if I partake anyway. I’m feeling rather celebratory.”
The fire water glugged cheerfully as she poured it into her tea.
“All this extra business?”
The manager nodded. “Do you know? We took in so much today that if I want to keep up, I’m going to have to do the accounting every night!”
Talis sputtered her tea. “Every night? So much?”
Nisa nodded. She looked positively delighted as she raised her teacup in a toast to the stacks of paperwork. “We get to add a rush fee to all that.”
Any relief of tension the tea had provided Talis was gone. On the other side of the wall just behind Nisa’s desk, the vacuum siphon had been turned on for two days. The accounts wouldn’t match Nisa’s records. The next accounting was supposed to happen after the crew’s plan was enacted, after they had redirected a small fortune from the harbor’s vault into their personal coffers.
Talis used all the discipline she’d been saving up to not leap from her seat and run from the office. She swallowed a mouthful of tea that suddenly felt too acidic. “You’ll be up all night.”
Nisa finished her cup. “Oh, I won’t start tonight. I’ve got to find help to manage the office. Safe to say, I’ll start the day after tomorrow. If the other clerks wouldn’t have my head, I’d bring you along to help.”
“And leave them to manage the docks?”
“As I said, they’d have my head if I tried it.” She wheeled back to the counter, rinsed her cup in the diminutive ship’s sink installed there, and put it upside down on a tea towel spread nearby. “Well, I’d better go home and get some sleep before I forget how to tally. You mind locking up?”
Talis’s mind raced as Nisa held out the office key ring. Nisa was going to spot the missing funds the moment she stepped into that vault. If Talis and Dug could restore the tube routing that night, she could use Nisa’s keys to feed the siphoned money back into the system before anyone else arrived in the morning. By the time Nisa rolled down to the vaults, every presscoin would be back in place. Talis had never enjoyed the idea of Nisa discovering her favorite employee had emptied the vaults, but it was the bankrollers Talis had been plotting to rob, so she’d always managed to set aside her guilt. Putting the money back was a far worse thought than that of Nisa realizing what Talis had done.
Talis dug deep to find Nisa a smile that wouldn’t look like she’d taken a bite of the fungi that grew along the refuse tunnels. “Of course. Go get some rest.”
Nisa pat Talis on the forearm as she wheeled past, collected her scarf from her locker, and said goo
d night. “You’re a good girl, Talis. Thanks for everything you do.”
This day just did not seem to want to let up. She emptied the clerks’ small fleet of wastepaper baskets into the large bin near the office’s pot-bellied stove, turned down the lamps, gave one last, longing glance at the office’s deposit drop, and locked the office up tight behind her.
At the gangplank of Im Ufite Rantor, a crew woman greeted Talis and politely insisted on checking her for weapons. When the woman’s gaze lingered on the old brand, it tickled the suspicions swirling in Talis’s mind. Was it truly such a coincidence that Onaya would arrive on the same wind as this Bone ship? Talis wouldn’t put it beyond Onaya to try and force her crew into cooperating by offering the same bad deal in two apparently disparate packages.
The woman made no comment about the brand but led Talis aboard to the great cabin located aft on the berth deck. Beneath their feet, the airship’s hull moved gently in the light wind circling around the island. Talis was surrounded again by the creak of wood and strong lines, the gentle flapping of furled canvas and the breath of a lift balloon above her. Beneath her ribs, the racing beat of her heart forced her to take a steadying breath and remind herself, grudgingly, this was only a visit.
“Ah, Captain.” Eneil greeted her as she entered, rising partially from a cream-colored silk couch with elegant silver birch frame, and gestured one long arm to the matching seat opposite. Talis knew better than to think they’d forgotten she asked them not to use that title.
A seating area was arranged in the cabin, an oasis of Vein culture in the otherwise boldly colored and very Bone-styled quarters. A soft white carpet defined a circle. Atop this, the couches faced each other across a low birch table gilded with pale leaf. White grapes, cucumber, and melon were laid out on an ornate gold and porcelain serving tray, perfectly centered on the table. Even the grape sprigs dared not arrange themselves too freely. Tea waited on another low table to one side. Pink, blue, and silver leaves unfolded as they steeped in a glass teapot beside two ceramic cups. A visual display meant for Talis—otherwise of little consequence to her blind host—and timed for her entrance. The light aromatics attempted to brighten the mustiness of a closed cabin. The tea was a convention of polite society, but Eneil had their own reasons for offering it. Talis knew, in the intimate setting, her Vein counterpart could observe her movements as they influenced the fragrant air.
