A Leaf and Pebble

by Andrew Monroe

  “Ah, there it is. Good eye.” Volant, leading the way, took us on as straight as possible path towards the constellation of stars.

  Nineteen

  We passed garden after garden. Plants of all sizes, shapes, and colors bursting around the practically primitive huts that people lived in here. Many of the fruits and vegetables I recognized, but I was not the herbologist that Volant was, or at least had been studying to be. He whispered the names of the more interesting plants as we passed and gave a description of some as he pointed them out. I could practically hear the longing in his low voice when he saw some far-off vegetation that grabbed his attention. By the time we arrived at the actual harbor of Brod, Volant had his sketchbook out and was hastily drawing the plant life for his own notes. Before us, boats were strung to wooden posts stretching out to either side in a long line of bobbing wood. A fence of masts held the lake at bay, and I had the odd feeling of an animal penned up. Lakes were inherently creepy to me, especially ones too big to see the other side of. Even more especially this late at night when nothing but the moon reflected in its surface like a sea creature’s giant eye.

  “Well?” I asked, looking to my friend. “What do we do now?”

  He sighed, placing his drawing into a pocket before turning to me. “We find someone heading to the shore. That way,” he said with a finger pointing towards Erset.

  As if waiting for this cue, a boy materialized near us. “You’re in luck gentlemen! I am headed there with utmost haste, and will not charge you a coin if you row my boat there for me.” The boy, who couldn’t be old enough to have left his parent’s home, whipped off an oversized hat, and bowed low.

  “You’re too young to own a boat. Left hand,” I cursed, “you’re too young to even know which end of a boat is the front.”

  The kid shook his head fervently. “Not true.” He pointed at the closest, and smallest ship. Nothing more than a five-crew craft with a single sail, two sets of oars, and a slightly raised deck with a till attached. “That’s mine. The Queen’s Bosom,” he said with a puffed-out chest. “My regular lads are all on the opposite shore, as I came in with yesterday’s wind with a brother to tend the sail.”

  A hand grabbed my shoulder, and Volant had me pulled back to him within whispering range. “This kid’s wanting us to help him steal a boat. There’s no way it’s his.”

  “So? We need to get across. We might as well steal a boat with him. Not the worst thing we’ve ever done.” I jerked a thumb toward the kid, warming to the idea now that my mind was turning. “He seems competent enough, and he does have that unquestionably suave captain’s hat. Side note, I really think it’s the greatest hat I have ever seen, and I need one, Volant.”

  A vein started to stand out on Volant’s temple, a perfect indicator of his rising impatience. “You want to help a kid steal a boat, because he has a nice hat?” Volant asked through clenched teeth.

  Noticing his tone, I gave my answer a moment of thought. “No. I do very much like his hat, but that’s not it.” I waved my hand to cut off his protest. “It’s the fact that we need to get off this floating prison your mother left us at as quickly as possible. The longer we are here, the better chance someone will notice. We steal a boat, get away, and hope that no one is too upset beyond those we have already stolen from. Then we find who killed our friends and keeps trying to kill us. I’m ready to remind them that no matter how tough you think you are, actions have consequences.”

  Both the boy, and his impressive hat stood by patiently, waiting for our decision. “Gentlemen, shall we strike this deal, or will you primp and preen the night away while whispering sweet nothings to each other?”

  We both turned to the boy, Volant marveling at the boy’s bravado. Nothing was said for a long moment. Volant recovered first, taking a threatening step towards the boy. Then, he abruptly changed his mind, let loose a loud laugh, and stuck his hand out to the boy, who shook it warily.

  “You have a deal, boat-thief. But watch your hat, as my friend has taken quite a fancy to it.” Without looking back, Volant strode down to the boat and hopped in.

  The boy turned to me, fitting his hat tightly back down on his head. “I am no boat thief. It’s really mine.”

  I shook my head, in both amusement and disbelief. “You’re the captain, Cap. That is a nice hat, by the by.” I too moved down to the boat, tossing my pack to Volant before stepping in and taking a seat on the front row bench, dipping my hand into the lake as I did so. A shiver ran up my back, dread mingling with excitement. The shore wasn’t even visible from here. No land was in any direction.

  “My friend,” the boat thief said, eyes wide with worry. “It’s best to not tempt the lake creatures at this hour.” He looked pointedly down at the water where my hand had created a ripple. “They may not be as big or mean as those that rule the ocean. But they are kin, don’t you forget.”

  As the boy untied us, Volant leaned over. “He’s right, I think. My mother says that this lake contains some small nasties. It’s partly why Brod was founded in the first place. Research. Also, rumor has it that they’re nocturnal. And that they prefer the flesh of leafers like yourself.” With a reassuring wink and a pat on the back, he turned back to his oars. The boy was on board a moment later, giving us a good push off into black, open water.

  Heights were one thing. A tingling of excitement that bordered on nervousness. More of a heightened anticipation for me, and less of an actual fear of anything. But deep water- that was something else entirely. My mind raced and my heart rate doubled as we rowed away from Brod’s floating harbor. Thoughts of sleek, carnivorous sea creatures invisible just beneath the boat made my skin crawl. Sweat trickled down my back despite a cool winter breeze passing over the lake. Though I had worked hard to overcome this particular peculiarity of mine since childhood, I’d never really been able to shake it. Deep water made something in my stomach tighten into a small knot of worry. Right up until getting in the boat, I had suppressed the idea that we were doing anything more than paddling across a rather wide river. Nearly half way to the shore, we had to rest. We’d been rowing for over an hour, with the jagged rocks that marked landfall finally visible, if just barely. The floating harbor and air towers were long out of sight.

  Something bumped the boat. I struggled to hold onto my two oars as we rocked scarily to the side. A tail, covered in patterned scales like an awful combination of fish and snake ending in a narrow fin rose above the water. My heart skipped a few beats and my already frayed psyche spun up into high speed. The tail whipped down, snapping both Volant’s and my left oars on while simultaneously sending a sheet of water high into the sky. Splinters rained down on us in our shocked silence. Several heartbeats later, the boy was the first to gather the ability to say anything.

  “Gods, that thing was huge.” His eyes were wide, still staring where the creature had disappeared.

  “You can say that again,” Volant said with a thrill in his voice, betraying his excitement.

  They both turned to me, expecting something besides the terror I felt. “You’re both insane. Absolutely, god spawning insane.” I took a deep, calming breath. “I’ll row first,” I said, taking Volant’s remaining oar to pair with mine. I rowed, abandoning the thought of pacing myself. We barely made it up to a crawl with just one of us working.

  I pulled hard for an embarrassingly short bit of time before I traded with Volant. Arms burning, I climbed up to where the boat thief steered, wanting to be sure the giant fish snake wasn’t lurking behind us. Instead, I saw another ship, directly behind us and far larger than our little boat at the horizon point where we’d left Brod.

  The boat-thief, who was insisting we call him Tervlik, saw me staring out and turned. “Oh sweet mother of the deep, can this day get any worse?” His calm demeanor was shattered, and he began to run about the ship, tossing everything he could out into the sea.

  Assuming the till was moderately important in this venture, I stepped forward, grabbing the well-w
orn wood in my hands, and marveling at the amount of force I could feel resisting my attempts to steer straight. The coast lay in front of us, painted a hazy gold and red from the rising sun. Being a captain sure beats rowing. I could see why Andreska and this boy both preferred it to working a ship’s oars. Just as I was beginning to get a feel for things Tervlik was by my side, shoving me away and taking the small boat into a quick arc.

  “If they catch up to us,” he said, panting after each word, “we’re all dead.”

  Volant signaled he needed a break, and I waved my understanding. “Why would we all be dead, little boat thief captain Tervlik? We’re just your working passengers, aye?”

  He looked at me with more condescension than a kid his size should be able to muster. “Because, you imbecile, this really is my ship. I only sort of stole it.” He pointed back towards the larger ship. “They are the ones who stole it from me in the first place. The first time, they killed two of my brothers and dad. I was too young for them to actually kill, supposedly. Apparently murder only counts as bad if you’re in single age digits.” Tears tugged at the corner of his eyes, and any sense of humor left me then and there. “I doubt,” he said, a hard edge tracing his words, “they will be as scrupulous the second time around.”

  I nodded in understanding. “Get your bow strung!” I called to Volant, vaulting over the railing onto the floor below. He stood and handed the oars to me.

  “Trouble?” He was covered in sweat, but was not taking the rowing nearly as bad as I was.

  “A whole ship full,” I replied.

  Out of his bag came the bow. The quiver tied to his bag and wrapped in skins was untied and unwrapped, and then retied to his waist, opposite the rapier. With bow strung, he moved up top to join the boy and see the trouble for himself.

  The two exchanged looks, and then looked back at the boat. Simultaneously, they turned back to look at me, fear across both faces. “Row harder!” they both yelled, and I did just that. The soreness I’d felt earlier while rowing was nothing but a tickle in comparison to bone deep ache I was feeling from the manic effort. My entire body quivered with exertion, only to be outdone by a fire that had replaced my lungs who were still trying to suck in a lifetime’s worth of air.

  Volant dragged me off the bench and began to row like one of the twelve gods was chasing us. After a few minutes, my arms began to work again, and I was able to crawl my way up to the steering deck. Before us, the lakes edge loomed desperately, invitingly close. But behind us, the bigger ship loomed ever closer. I could even see men crowded together on the front of their deck, a variety of steel glinting against the new day’s sun.

  Abruptly, the boy turned the ship, bringing us parallel to the land. “Keep on this course,” he said to me, fear making his voice even higher than before. My arms too weak to truly steer, I jammed my body up against the tiller and rested against it.

  The other ship turned, angling directly at us, and our window of time on this boat seemed to diminish exponentially.

  Volant and the boy appeared next to me. “See those front windows?” the boy asked Volant, pointing at the menacingly close ship. The same ship that apparently no one was rowing away from now.

  “Aye, I do,” Volant replied

  “As many arrows as you can put into there. It’s the captain’s quarters,” Tervlik said. Then, to my surprise, the boy held out an arrow that Volant doused in lantern oil. He set it ablaze with quick sparks from the boy’s knife and stone.

  Nocked, Volant took aim. A twang and after glow announced the flaming arrows flight. Volant reached out his off hand and began to move his fingers as gently as one plays a delicate instrument, small wind adjustments to his shot.

  I trembled from fatigue against the wheel. Helpless in my state of twitching muscles, I crossed my fingers and watched the arrow fly through the air an improbable distance, smacking into the window. A small thump could be heard, but the arrow didn’t even seem to have cracked the glass.

  “Can you do anything about that window, Nil?” Volant asked without looking up from lighting the second arrow.

  A guttural groan was the only reply I could muster. I still had a reserve of Skill despite the physical toll rowing had placed on me. Making a fist, I gathered Skill into my hand. With unsteady legs I balanced on the deck and focused on the window. My right arm flew forward, my pointer finger stabbing at the window just below the boat deck. Skill left me at once with the accompanying smell of ozone and I fell back against the tiller again, almost completely drained. My aim was off. A small chevron shaped wake cut the water under my shot, making a beeline for the ship’s hull. I stretched out my arm again, fingers splayed and trembling. With the rest of the Skill I could muster, I reached out and pulled ever so slightly up on my errant shot.

  Shattering glass greeted our ears. A fiery arrow was already on its way again and Volant let out an excited cry of victory. His hands spun about each other again as he began to direct the wind, carrying the flaming arrow right through the open window. By the time he’d loosed a third shot, smoke could be seen trickling from the room, and the men on deck were now panicking all over the boat. Volant forced the third arrow in at a sharp angle, making the few crew still watching us stop and stare in awe as the projectile curved in mid air. A fire blazed after he pushed a strong gust across the water and into the smoke-filled window. Volant stood back with a satisfied smirk. He must have hit some kind of bedding or rug. Two flaming arrows should not have worked into a blaze so quickly.

  “That’ll keep them from chasing us down the coast long enough for us to get away by land,” the boat thief said, relieved.

  “Right you are,” Volant replied still smiling.

  Our new course had us in the wind, and a tiny sail did twice the work of Volant and I’s attempt at rowing. The sun was reaching fairly high in the sky by the time we hit shore. Our landfall was a bouldery strewn, black rock beach. Treacherously slick. With my exhausted arms, it was far harder to get up than I expected it to be. Shores should be soft sand and have even edges like Erset’s eternity river bank. None of this hard and slippery stalagmite looking ground.

  “What will you do now?” I asked the boy, feeling guilty about leaving him alone when a group of seriously pissed Lakers were just out of sight.

  “Burn the boat,” he replied simply.

  “Burn it?” Volant repeated incredulously. “But you just got it back!”

  He nodded, but offered no further explanation. We helped him wrestle the thing out of the water, until it tilted over, falling hard against the stony shore. Using a seriously large supply of lamp oil and rope, our noble lake vessel was set aflame in short order.

  Twenty

  “Best be getting a move on, aye Nil?” Volant seemed uncertain about the boy that was no longer a boat thief, but a boat burner, and seeming to have made the decision it was best to stay clear of people with fancy hats, kid or not.

  “One day,” the boy said before I could answer Volant, “you will hear the name Tervlik, and he will be known as the most fearsome warrior the world has seen.” He stuck a hand out to each of us, holding a small piece of wood etched with an even smaller symbol. “Until that day, hold onto these, and remember me.” As quick as he’d appeared, Tervlik was off on a fast walk the opposite of where the pursuers would have landed.

  “That was a decidedly odd encounter with an even more odd boy.” Mystified, I placed the wood fragment into one of my many pockets.

  Doing the same, Volant looked at me, concern etched on his face. “Those men are going to have an easier time following us through leaf-strewn woods than a boy on a barren shore. We better get moving quickly in case they end up being more resentful than anticipated.”

  I agreed, and we began our trek away from the lake. “Hey Volant, how about we try for Erset this time around?” I asked.

  “I don’t see why not,” he replied. “And, once we get some resources together, we can head back to Kalaran and start our own hunt.” We bumped fists, a
nd just like that, we had a plan.

  It wasn’t long before we stopped for the night, camping on the side of a dirt road carved through the sparse forest. It wasn’t much longer after that until we saw the distinct smoke of a campfire back from the path we took.

  “Looks like they picked us to follow instead of Tervlik,” I said lightly, forcing a smile.

  “It was to be expected. Hanging with you seems to be one of the most unlucky activities I’ve ever done.” Volant sat back, winking at me with an equally forced smile. “Though you seem to attract trouble, it has certainly been interesting.”

  Whatever it was, the two of us thought that was immensely funny. We both laughed until tears fell from our eyes and our sides ached. Too tired to care, we each slept for a couple of hours with no watch before continuing the hike. It was hard, picking our way by moonlight, but we put some distance between us and the Lakers.

  Trees in the mostly uninhabited woods between Brod and the rest of the civilized lands were some of the most annoying plant life the world had seen. There was little use to be had with them, as they grew, died, and rotted at an incredible pace. Legend had it that these trees had been tampered with by ancient alchemists back before alchemy practice was outlawed and then forgotten. Some fool of a boy had come up with a new seed that would grow to a sapling in a day, and making wood easily obtained. Unfortunately, the trees weren’t the cure all he’d wanted. Alchemist Trees, as some called them, burned up in matters of seconds, and were too soft to do anything besides being kindling. They decayed in a matter of days, cut down or not, and the only way to prevent them from growing was a long, extremely complicated process usually involving dozens of laborers and another dozen Naturals turning a massive trench into a stone foundation. The only reason the Alchemist Trees hadn’t covered the whole land was the Eternity river which effectively cordoned the trees to just the area around Brod.