Chapter Five
Fun & Games
Isaac awoke to a
bright, starry sky. A hand covered his mouth.
“Be still,” Zaria
whispered. “They’re coming.”
He looked, eyes
wide.
Around him, the
night was dark and cloudless. A thin crescent of orange was the only indication
of Reinga, the sister moon. Solnova, the yellow patriarch, was just below the
horizon. Ulderon was in the shadow of his father. Usually, if all three moons
were visible, the night was nearly as bright as day.
Isaac shook away his
lessons of astronomy.
Right now, all he
could see of the desert was varying shades of black. The dunes were covered in
such shadow that the stars were often the only sign of where the land ended and
the sky began. There was no movement, save for a small spout of sand still twisting
in the wind.
Slowly, the sandship
emerged.
It crested the peak
of a dune, cutting sideways across the tall rims of sand that surrounded their
shelter, like a finger circling a cup. Lanterns dangled across the edges of the
top deck, illuminating the magically treated wood of the hull. A sigil of wind
magic burned across the twin-masted sail. As he watched, Isaac began to see the
outlines of lions and hyenas at watch positions, peering into the night with a
predator’s vision.
“Ain’t likely to
spot us,” Zaria said. “I’d still rather scamper, if you’re of the mind.”
Isaac nodded,
tugging on his restraints. He could smell the dirt and animal musk in her hand.
Fur tickled his nose.
“Gonna let you
breathe. Don’t scream like a maiden.”
He looked at her
indignantly.
She released his
face from her grip, and the glint of her dagger reached down toward his
midsection. There was an audible series of cuts. Severed rope fell past his
ankles. His hands were still tied. He did not complain.
Using as little
movement as possible, the two hefted their packs and began to climb up the dune
on hands and feet, clinging to the thin shadow across its face. Isaac was very
careful not to slip through the loose sediment. When they reached the top, the ship
was still sailing east at a watchful pace. Its black pirate standard fluttered
in the night breeze, and the brass lips of the cannon holes glinted beneath the
light of the lanterns.
“Xotra’s cunt,”
Zaria said. “Check the broadside.”
If Isaac squinted,
he could just barely make out a circle of pale wood against the hull’s darker
brown. At this distance, it was about the size of a coin. To his untrained eye,
it looked like an emergency repair on the middeck hull.
“That’s my old
ship,” Zaria said. “The Silent Saber. Thought she’d head for port after
I blew a hole in her side.” She stared a moment. “Didn’t think she’d range this
far to the tomb, neither.”
“I thought you said
pirates were superstitious.”
“Worse than a crone,
believe me.”
The longer he
watched the skimmer, the more he caught glimpses of various species holding
positions along the rim of the vessel. Many were slung across the rigging.
Further above, human-shaped animals watched from the gunner’s perch, visible
only by the reflected light in their eye. It seemed that half the crew was
currently on watch.
“They must really
want you dead,” Isaac said.
“Aye. That they do.”
The Saber
dipped down the face of a small dune. For a moment, only her glowing sail
remained visible, like the fin of a shark skulking through water.
“We should go,”
Isaac said. “They could see our outline from here.”
The hyena continued
to watch the skimmer, her mohawk swaying with the breeze. The fur on her neck
was standing on end.
“Zaria.”
“Aye,” she said,
snapping herself around. “Right. Onwards.”
She dashed down the
opposite side of their dune, moving with more speed than care. Isaac followed
behind. With their packs hastily slung over shoulder, they threshed their way
across the valley floor, the sand glimmering orange beneath Reinga’s crescent light.
The Silent Saber disappeared into the night, never once betraying a sound.
It was two hours into
the march before Zaria stopped peering over her shoulder, though she continued
to insist on an abundance of caution. Neither of them was allowed to travel
over the tops of the dunes—instead, they had to walk in the deep depressions
between the flowing hills of sand, which quickly forced them to diverge from
their main route whenever an easy path did not present itself. They used the
constellations overhead to navigate by the cardinal directions, always pressing
close to the thin shadows and gentle slopes.
The journey
continued for hours. The glow of Solnova disappeared below the horizon,
dragging the rest of his tortured children along, and Isaac never again managed
to spot the glowing sail of a skimmer, though a few shooting stars gave him
false starts. As the time dragged away, he found the desert night to be quiet
and pleasantly cool.
Eventually, the sky
brightened, and the sun began to return. When the light touched him directly,
his reddened skin began to burn.
He braced himself
for another miserable day.
“What’ll you do with
your half of the treasure?”
At the moment, Isaac
was trudging his way through an open plain of sand, furrowing his brow against
the morning light and the specks of sediment blowing in the wind. He barely
paid the question any attention.
“Isaac?”
“What?” he asked.
Zaria had been
walking ahead of him. Her stride was longer, and her digitigrade feet had an
easier time negotiating the sand. She always took the lead. Now, with a glance
backward, she slowed her pace enough to walk at his side. The zoanthrope peered
at him beneath the hood of her shawl.
He tried not to
sigh.
“Got any dreams for
our coin?” she asked. “Any debaucherous intent?”
“Our coin,” he
repeated, deadpan.
“We’re splittin’ it,
ain’t we?”
He shook his head,
looking away. “I have no plans.”
“Not a clue?” she
asked, the morning sun illuminating half her face. “None whatsoever?”
“I hadn’t thought
about it.”
“You wanna tell me
you been worked like an ox all your life, just for this, and the thought of
bein’ filthy rich never tickled you a bit?”
“Why would it?”
Isaac replied. “I’ve barely even seen money before. I only understand the
concept academically. I wouldn’t . . . I mean, I wouldn’t know what to do with
any amount of coin, let alone a fortune. It’s almost meaningless to me.”
She hummed to
herself. “Are you taking suggestions?”
“No.”
“I’m a bit more
worldly than you, Isaac. Might be you catch some wisdom.”
“Do we have to do
this?”
“Do what?”
“Do we,” Isaac said,
“have to have this sort of talk again?”
He could tell, by
her voice, that she was getting amused. “This sorta talk?”
“This sort of talk
where you prod me like a circus horse, waiting until I lose my temper or say
something foolish.” He fluffed the collar of his shawl, trying to cover his
face. “I don’t appreciate these games.”
The hyena snickered.
“I just wanna gab, love. You’re the bein’ sour.”
He did not respond. His
boots stomped and twisted through the sand. The day was already growing hot.
“Well?” Zaria asked.
“Well, what?”
“Would you care to
hear my suggestion, for how the young squire should spend his freedom and
fortune?”
He restrained a
sigh. “I suppose you’ll give it to me, regardless.”
“Well,” she said.
“Considering a mage like yourself is probably chaster than a nun, I recommend
you indulge in drink and whores till your cock’s as wet as your gullet.
Healthier than a thousand books, in your case.”
“Oh, yes,” Isaac
replied. “Drinks and whores. What a profound suggestion. Your insight is truly
unparalleled.” He stumbled slightly through the sand. “Also, for future
reference, the correct phrasing is more chaste, not chaster. Please conjugate
properly.”
“See, now, that’s
exactly my point. That tongue’d be put to better use licking cunts, not
teaching vocabulary.”
Isaac shook his
head, pacing slightly ahead of her.
“Oh?” she said, a
smile in her voice. “Does mention of them bits and bobs make you squeamish,
Isaac?”
“I’m just wondering
why you insist on chatting with me, like I’m not your hostage.”
She blew a
raspberry. “Oh, come now. Are you still on this?”
“Still on this?” he
asked, incredulous.
“Is all this bondage
of yours really gonna get in the way of us bein’ mates?”
“Yes!” he shouted,
finally losing his temper. “Yes, it will! It’s not just the ropes! You
threatened to have me devoured by birds! You’ve beaten me unconscious! Last
night, you pressed a knife to my neck!”
“Didn’t mean nothing
special,” Zaria replied, her voice as breezy as the wind. “I’m a pirate, love.
That’s the craft. Anyway, I said I was sorry for it.”
“I don’t care how
sorry you are! You’re still doing it! You’re still holding me prisoner! I
expect you’ll end up threatening me upon entrance to the tomb, when our lives
are actually in danger!” He ripped at his restraints again, just to feel how
they dug through his wrists. “Your apologies will mean nothing to me until you
actually correct your behavior. Gods above, you mock me for my parents, but I
have to wonder what yours ever did for you.”
There was a silence.
When Isaac glanced at Zaria, she was staring ahead, her shawl flapping in the
breeze, her gaze lingering somewhere on the nebulous line where the dunes met
the sky. The scar on her nose twitched.
For a moment, the
only sound was the whistle of a sandy wind.
“Fine,” she said. “I
take your point. Suppose we need a more calmin’ topic
for discussion.”
Isaac tore his gaze
from her. “I think silence will heal our wounds.”
“Ain’t how it works,
squire. You and I are gabbin’ this out.” She turned to watch a dust spout
circling over a distant hill. “In my world, you fight with a crewmate, you
don’t just let it lie, cause that way the meanness festers, and you’ll hate
each other all the worse. You force a talk. You keep on with the sod until you
have their respect, if not their liking.”
Isaac met her gaze,