by C E Keene
The Pruvari walked to the other side of the boat, greeting sailors as he did so. Arheis suddenly felt like the most anti-social person on the planet, as he’d been shut in and had no idea who half of these men and women were. He certainly hadn’t built up enough of a rapport to talk with them the way Zindar did. But that wasn’t exactly a surprise. Few people seemed to honestly dislike his friend. That smile was contagious, especially when it was so often present.
“Here it is,” Zindar said, crouching down near the bough of the ship.
The deck was raised up by a small set of stairs on either side, giving enough height for the captain—or anyone else—to observe the crew. But tucked against that raised platform was what amounted to a small fishing station. Someone had nailed a long strip of wood there, with blocks mounting several hooks to hold up ten or so bamboo rods. A net was held in place by another few nails, and there was a large spindle of twine tucked into a nearby crate. Zindar even found a barrel that was filled with moist soil and probably a hundred earthworms wriggling throughout.
“Have you ever fished before?” his friend asked as he picked out a rod.
“Not in a long time.”
And never like this. He’d always had the benefit of a reel and proper fishing line, not to mention fake bait and bobbers.
But it was easy enough to watch what Zindar was doing and just copy that. He grabbed a pole that seemed appropriately sized, tied it up with the twine to create a castable line, dug out a hook and an earthworm, then followed the Pruvari to the starboard side of the boat. There was a gap where the gangplank usually went down, and Arheis sat there, right beside Zindar as they waited for the Lady Katherine to slow to a speed more conducive to fishing.
“Have you fished off a ship like this?” he asked. “I’m guessing it’s different from doing it on the docks.”
And a lot different from doing it out of a little three-speed Murphy like the one his uncle had owned.
“Nope,” Zindar admitted with a surprising amount of cheer. “Hawthorn said it’s possible to pull in bigger fish out here, though. Before they came to the island, he pulled in a bluefish he said weighed twenty, twenty-five pounds or so.”
Arheis eyed the ocean dubiously. He’d heard of people going a ways off the coast for deep-sea fishing, but again that was with equipment more sophisticated than anything they had here. It seemed more likely that a fish as big as the one Zindar was talking about would snap his rod in half in waters like these.
Or that he’d just never encounter one to begin with.
But it was better than sitting around, and even if he wasn’t getting the chance to talk to Higrem, he’d wanted to check in with Zindar. So he sat beside the Pruvari and waited until the Lady Katherine made a wide berth around the small set of islands he’d seen in the distance. Once the ship slowed enough that the hull wasn’t bearing down and sending massive waves rippling out from it, Zindar drew back and cast out his line, bait and bobber both landing with a plop.
Once he was sure Zindar’s line wasn’t just going to break, Arheis cast his a fair distance away and without nearly as much finesse. It was too close to the ship by far, but maybe he’d catch a particularly reckless fish. Either way, he’d learned from his uncle that the purpose of fishing wasn’t always to catch something.
And now was as good a time as any to talk to Zindar and see if he could learn more about his friend.
“How long ago was it? The first time you were on a ship like this, I mean.”
Zindar’s grip on the pole loosened, as even he seemed content it wasn’t going to suddenly be pulled out of his grasp. “I was still a cub, though closer to being an adult than not. I’d just gotten my spirit, and I… wanted to see more of the world.”
The hesitation in that just added to the growing list of weird things Arheis had witnessed from his friend over the past few days.
“Is that young for your people?” Arheis asked, adjusting his own grip. “As far as leaving home goes?”
“It depends. Some Pruvari never leave their community. I just… wasn’t built that way, I think. I like going places. Helping people. Doing more with my spirit than just using it as an encyclopedia.”
Arheis’ arched a brow at that, turning his head to look at Zindar. The Pruvari was focused on the sea, though, and only the pinned position of his ears betrayed any discomfort with the conversation.
The last thing Arheis wanted to do was make him regret the offer to fish. And honestly it felt like he’d done something wrong; like he’d committed some grave crime in uncovering a version of Zindar who wasn’t just happy all the time. Now that he’d opened that box, he was having a hard time closing it. But there had to be a better way to go about asking these questions.
Just as Arheis opened his mouth to try another approach, he felt a sharp tug that had him gripping the pole for dear life before it was ripped out of his hand.
“Oh, you’ve got something!” Zindar was on his feet in an instant, one hand still holding his fishing pole while the other shielded his eyes so he could see what Arheis had. “It’s not too big. You can pull it in. Just use both hands and keep the line steady if you can.”
Arheis did as he was instructed, his knuckles white around the pole as he grappled with the sudden image of being pulled overboard. A crazy thing to imagine when he now realized the first tug had been the strongest, and everything past that was something he could easily compensate for with the strength in his arms.
Pulling back on the pole, Arheis was finally able to see the fish on the other end, its body sending up a spray of white surf on either side as it occasionally struggled to free itself. It seemed small for an ocean fish. Maybe as big as a decently-sized largemouth bass, if he was being generous. Yanking it up out of the water, Arheis was able to inspect it more closely, the orange and yellow fish gaping in the open air, its big, sunken fish eyes staring up at him.
> You have learned Fishing. Use a rod, spear, or net to fish in open water. The higher your proficiency in this skill, the less time it takes to catch fish and the higher the chance of encountering rare fish.
> You have caught Speckled Seafarer. Said to be the “rabbit of the ocean,” these fish are plentiful and can be found in large schools throughout the known world.
So he’d essentially caught the ocean’s version of a minnow. Something small—relatively speaking—and without much use beyond maybe acting as bait for other fish.
“Not very big, huh,” Zindar observed. “Are you going to keep him?”
Arheis shook his head and carefully pulled the hook out of the fish’s mouth before he tossed it back over the side. “It doesn’t seem like it has much meat on it, and there’s no sense keeping a fish we can’t cook.”
That and he’d never liked using other fish for bait. It seemed wrong somehow, but maybe that was just because earthworms were so much more alien. With fish he could see their eyes, could see them gasping for air. The idea of dangling them from a hook and letting them get snapped up by bigger fish was weirdly difficult for him to stomach.
But he speared another earthworm without any trouble, not sparing the thing a second thought as he cast his line out again.
Zindar settled beside him, seeming at least a little less on edge. He didn’t offer up anything more on his own though, and rather than try to pry it out of him, Arheis just decided to be upfront with his friend.
“I’m guessing you don’t really like to talk about your past,” he said gently. Zindar’s tail flicked, the tip of it thumping lightly on the deck, “and that’s fine. As much as I want to know more about you, I’d rather not make you uncomfortable. You’ll tell me if and when you want to tell me.”
He could see the Pruvari frown beside him. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just… it wasn’t the best time in my life. I don’t really like thinking about it.”
That was close to what he’d said about Arheis’ “death,” which should have clued him in to the fact that there were some things he
needed to leave be.
“It’s okay.” Arheis reached across Zindar’s shoulders and gave him a pat. “I’m sorry I brought up bad memories for you.”
The Pruvari drew in a breath and let it out, slowly. Some of the tension in him seemed to leave with it. “Thank you. I’m glad you understand.”
He did, though that didn’t mean it didn’t sting a little bit. Arheis knew that was hypocritical of him considering how little Zindar knew, but he’d always been told he was a good listener. Having someone withhold something from him was a new experience.
“That Pruvari settlement Treyous mentioned…” Zindar stiffened immediately, before Arheis even had a chance to finish. “We can avoid it. Even if we need to go through there for some reason, we can keep it short.”
Zindar let out another breath through his nose and nodded. “I think that would be good.” His ears drooped, his expression falling. “I’m sorry to be difficult. I—”
The Pruvari couldn’t finish that sentence, because he was yanked off his feet so quickly that Arheis barely had time to react. He let go of his rod completely and practically tackled Zindar’s legs, holding on as tight as he could so neither of them would be swept overboard.
> You have learned Lightning Reflexes. Respond on instinct and act quickly under pressure.
“It’s still pulling!” Zindar exclaimed unnecessarily.
Arheis could feel it pulling. He had to pull back even harder to anchor Zindar in place. Logic told him that if he could just get the Pruvari’s large feet back on the deck, they’d both be okay, but that was easier said than done. Whatever he’d hooked was thrashing and yanking on the line, strong enough to be a major problem, but not strong enough to just break it.
“Push down toward the deck,” he called, unsure if he could even be heard over the wild splashing.
But Zindar must have heard him, because Arheis’ job got a little bit easier. When the Pruvari’s feet finally touched the deck, Arheis could feel him pushing down, giving enough of a counter-balance that there wasn’t as much danger of both of them going over. Still Arheis held on, just to help keep Zindar’s feet planted, but it was only for support now, and he finally had the chance to look up and see what was on the other end of the line.
“Holy shit,” he murmured, his gaze immediately drawn to the writhing beast of a fish that was doing everything in its power to avoid being pulled in.
It was at least four feet long, and the body seemed weirdly muscular—if a fish could even be muscular. There was a single, spear-like horn atop a bulbous head, and sharp, angular fins that gave it an aerodynamic shape more in line with a shark than anything else. Hell, for all Arheis knew it was a shark.
“Are you sure you should be bringing that thing on board?”
Too late to second guess it now. Some of the sailors who’d been milling above decks came rushing over, whooping and cheering and trying to lend their own strength. There were so many of them clustered around that Arheis was able to get to his feet and pull that way instead of just holding Zindar’s feet down like they were nailed to the deck.
“Alright lads,” one of the sailors called, “on three give it the old heave ho!”
The man counted up from one, and on three, Arheis and everyone else pulled. By that point, though, there were so many men that it wasn’t a question of holding their own against the fish. They easily overpowered it, and that tug was enough to pull Zindar backward, well into the boat. So much so that he stumbled into the group and the fish was flung overhead, thrashing all the while.
The sailors practically tripped over each other to try and catch the thing. It wriggled out of one set of hands, smacked a man in the forehead with its tail, rent several gashes through the clothing of others, and was generally a massive pain in the ass before it was finally subdued. The man who finally caught it bore it down to the deck, pulled a knife from his belt, and drove the blade in deep, just behind the horn. It stilled instantly, and a cheer went up from the crowd.
Arheis, meanwhile, just offered his hand to help pull Zindar up from the deck. Though the Pruvari was nearly knocked down again as a variety of large sailors clapped him on the back and congratulated him.
“Hell of a catch!”
“We’ll be eating good tonight, lads!”
“Save that horn. You should have something to remember this by!”
Most of it was praise, though one sailor did jokingly warn, “Best not let you anywhere near a pole again. You’ll bring Daemontus himself into this boat.”
That was met with raucous laughter from the crew, and while Arheis had never seen a Daemontus before, he could guess at what it was. One of the sailors even made some kind of gesture across his heart, like he was trying to ward off that evil from coming to pass.
Zindar was smiling throughout, though. That genuine smile that was borne of having a few moments to just enjoy himself. And as he watched the Pruvari get swept along with the sailors who were trying to come to a decision about whether to carve up the fish immediately or stuff it for a wall mount, Arheis was glad he hadn’t pressed the issue.
There’d be time to learn more. For now he had to trust that his friend had his reasons for being secretive, and that was all there was to it.
8
That night, they all gathered around the table in Treyous’ private chambers.
It was the captain, his first mate—a stoic woman named Bren—the ship’s cook, and everyone Treyous had invited from their merry little band… including Higrem.
Arheis had wondered if the man would even show, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. This was the kind of environment in which Higrem seemed to thrive. Once he was given an audience, he was eager to share a few larger than life stories that Arheis now questioned the validity of.
“We were backed into a corner,” he said, leaning over the table and practically elbowing Arheis in the face as he gesticulated. “Cliff behind us, Luperox all around us. We all look at each other, and we know there’s only one way out of this.”
“What did you do?” the cook asked, seeming the most entranced out of everyone.
Higrem came to life under the attention, a grin splitting his features. “I turned to the Luperox, said ‘I’ll race you to the bottom of the ocean,’ and then I stepped off the cliff.”
Treyous and the cook let out peals of side-splitting laughter that made Arheis look around the table to see if he’d missed something. Maybe it was a funny joke and not a lame one-liner. But no. Galen was smiling politely. Mira rolled her eyes. Zindar was focused on his food. And Bren just looked bored by the whole ordeal.
“Sure enough, the damn things followed us right over the edge. And since they can’t swim…”
More laughter as the joke apparently reached its punchline. Arheis speared a piece of fish and stuffed it into his mouth to keep from voicing his thoughts aloud. Higrem wasn’t hurting anyone, per se. He was just being… Higrem.
And Arheis was sure he would have kept on with the stories had Treyous not directed a question toward someone else.
“I heard about you all taking down the Queen, but the details were sketchy,” the captain said, his gaze on Arheis. “I’d love to hear what actually happened. I bet it was one hell of a fight.”
Arheis glanced at his companions. They were all looking back at him, apparently just fine with him telling the story. So he wound his memories back to when they’d first devised their plan. Baiting and drugging the Queen to see how she responded to the crystal. The attack on Lacerda that caught them all off guard. That final fight, when everyone had played their part in taking the beast down.
Unlike Higrem, he made a point of not centering the story on himself. He wouldn’t have been able to kill the Queen on his own, after all. He’d learned that early on in his time with Untamed. He’d needed the others to bring their talents to the fight. Even Higrem had played a part in the final kill, though Arheis stopped himself before sharing the fact that the mayor’s incompetence and bravado had gotte
n several initiates killed.
Higrem stayed suspiciously quiet while Zindar, Mira, and Galen wove their own accounts through Arheis’. The victory had happened weeks ago, but it was still fresh in everyone’s minds and obviously a point of pride across the board. There was something deeply satisfying about knowing they’d conquered impossible odds together. It was a feeling he’d gotten from soloing fights in past Apex games, and he’d always assumed adding others to the mix would cheapen things. But this didn’t feel like a cheap victory at all.
“Can’t imagine how much damage she would’ve done if you hadn’t put a stop to it,” Bren remarked—the first thing she’d said the entire evening.
“Indeed.” Treyous’ expression was startlingly sober. “The worst she did to us was disrupt a few direct trade routes and ruin some plans for travel. Sounds like she did a number on Lacerda.”
Galen was quick to explain the rebuilding effort he’d overseen, but the gravity of Treyous’ words settled heavily over Arheis’ side of the table. Higrem’s fork was down and he looked a little pale. It was enough for Arheis to deliberately try and catch the man’s gaze, his brows rising in silent question. Higrem just squared his jaw, steeled his expression, and ignored the attempt to communicate.
Because of course he did.
“And the crystals are what you’re after now?” Treyous asked once Galen had finished. “Good on the lot of you, to take on a problem you didn’t have to deal with.”
> Your reputation with The Lady Katherine has improved.
Huh. Was that just because of Treyous’ appreciation, or had he merely tipped it over? Either way, it might prove useful in the future. Having an in with the captain had already opened doors Arheis was sure would have been closed otherwise.
“So there are more of them?” the cook asked, looking about the room as if one would suddenly pop out from behind Treyous’ potted plants.
