Epilogue #4
Isaac began to do so, having to use both hands to keep it
flat on the table. After a moment, Zaria stood up from her seat, came to his
side, and leaned over his shoulder. He heard her begin to mouth the words.
“Oh,” Vance said, a note of surprise in her voice. “Zaria,
you can read?”
“I’ve been learnin’. Gotta work it
out, still.”
Isaac leaned in, struggling to parse the neat, sharp curves
of Vance’s handwriting. He realized that he was, indeed, very drunk. The
captain’s wine was much stronger than the swill he had often been served at a
tavern. He raised his head for a moment, trying to catch the sea air coming
through a portside window, and he saw the captain exchange an uneasy glance
with her first mate.
Something about their looks set him on edge.
“Hold on,” Zaria said. She pressed a finger to one of the
words. “Ap—ate, um, rem—un—er—” She frowned. “Gods, that’s a mouthful.”
“Remuneration,” Isaac said. “Appropriate remuneration.”
“Why the fuck do words gotta be that long? Who wants to
speak like that?”
“It means we’re getting higher wages.”
“Keep reading,” Vance said.
“‘Great excitement,’ Isaac said, squinting at the parchment.
“‘Exotic specimens.’ ‘New charter.’ ‘Circumnavigation.’” Isaac paused.
“Circumnavigation?”
Vance was holding a quiet smile.
“Wait,” Zaria said. “That means travel around, aye?”
“It does,” Isaac said, shocked.
“Then . . .
travelling all around the world?”
“Yes,” Isaac said. “Circumnavigation.”
Zaria gave a low whistle, glancing happily around the table.
“That’s the new contract,” Vance said, focusing on Isaac.
“We’re adding several years to the voyage, if it all goes proper. I spoke to
the queen herself, and I don’t got to tell you that’s out the ordinary.
Giovanna is highly impressed with all the funny creatures you’ve found,
Isaac. She sees the value in all these untapped lands, and she’s giving heaps
of coin to aid the effort. That means better pay, better provisions, more
cartographers, some hefty escort ships, and whatever else we want, really.”
“Fuck me,” Zaria said. “No one’s crossed the globe before.
Half the maps are centuries old.”
“We’ll be inkin’ the new ones.”
Zaria clapped Isaac on the back, struggling to get the
laughter out. She was the only one to try. Isaac had kept reading, roaming his
gaze down the last paragraph of the missive. A stab of fear went through his
gut. When he looked up, both the captain and the first mate were watching him
carefully. Outside, the sea lashed angrily at the hull.
The room began to spin faster.
“What?” Zaria said, noticing the silence. “Ain’t this grand?
It’s bloody history we’re gonna make.”
Isaac nudged her arm, pointing down at one of the
paragraphs.
“Oh, just tell me.”
He had to lean in to read it. The wine felt like it was
squeezing his skull. “The fugitive from justice currently aboard, known here as
Zaria, is to immediately be taken into custody, whereby she will be returned to
the mainland to stand trial for her crimes, listed here as murder, piracy,
theft—”
“That’s enough,” Vance said. “Listen—”
“What?” Zaria grabbed the scroll, nearly burning it on a
candle as she read. “A fucking warrant, for me?”
Isaac reached for the wine bottle, deciding all at once to
abandon propriety.
“Listen,” Vance said, leaning on the table. Her gloved hand
was not far from the pistol on her chest. “I am not—”
“Is that it, then? Thanks for the work, now fuck yourself?”
“Zaria—”
She slammed the scroll on the table. Plates fell and
rattled. “It’s fucking rubbish! The queen loves pirates when they’re raiding
merchant ships, but not on her barnyard boat, is that the way of it?”
Vance sent her chair clattering as she stood. “I’ll not be
yelled at in my own cabin. Keep your peace.”
“Oh, is the queen’s dog gonna start barking?”
Percival stepped back from the table, drawing his cutlass
from the scabbard.
“Zaria,” Vance said. Her hand was tight on her pistol’s
grip. “Calm yourself. We’re just talking, as of now. Nothing more.”
Isaac’s chair scraped along the planks as he stood. “Take
your hand off your gun, captain.”
“Not now, sir mage. Not until—”
“Take your hand off your gun!”
No one moved. Candles flickered. Fire reflected off the
plates and knives. Isaac was so drunk that he nearly swayed with the ship,
though his arms were always firm and steady, held in a pre-mnemonic stance.
After a twitch of her whiskers, Vance gave a small nod to Percival. A hand fell
from a pistol grip, and a sword returned to its sheath.
“Listen to me, ya stubborn cunts,” the otter said. “If I was
meaning to follow that directive, I wouldn’t have warned you of it, would I?”
Zaria stood behind Isaac, her breath blowing through his
hair. “Small relief, captain.”
“I had my suspicions of you,” Vance continued. “Navies these
days are lousy with pirates, and you just got that bearin’ about you. But,
despite my misgiving to your kind, you did some damn fine work, and I’ve not
seen any reason to complain. I’d sooner have been ignorant of your crimes, just
letting you fuck your wizard at every port we make.”
The tablecloth began to burn from a fallen candle. Percival
reached over and beat the flames out, never taking his eyes off Isaac.
“Here’s how it is,” Vance said, collecting her breath.
“We’re making landfall in two days. It’s a cove not too distant from a royal
post called Dewclaw, a nine-day journey southward. From there, there’s roads
leading to native cities, other ports of call, anywhere you want. Zaria, you’ll
be given enough provisions to make that journey, plus all your wages, as well
as my own written recommendation, in case you wish to grace someone else’s
deck. Meanwhile, I’ll tell my superiors that you jumped overboard. They’ll
think you’re dead, and things will stay peaceful between us.”
Zaria tried to laugh. “How bloody kind.”
“It is, actually.”
“You’re maroonin’ me!”
“I can’t do otherwise. The Royal Claw wants a clean roster,
and they didn’t appreciate you lying about your past, let alone all their ships
you’ve plundered to the sand.” Her snout began to curl. “And I’ll not abide
some cutthroat serving on my vessel. From the way it’s told, you’ve got quite
some blood on your hands, serving the Black Eye. She was worst of the lot.”
“I won’t mince about her,” Zaria replied, “but don’t act
like your hands are clean, neither.”
“My blood was spilled for country and valor,” Vance said.
“Yours was for greed and malice. If you compare us again, you’ll leave this
ship by plank.”
“Oh, you say that like the Scorch was somethin’ to be proud
for.”
“Shut your hole, blackguard.”
“I was raised in Valrynn, captain. I lived through most the siege. You know what your nation did to mine?”
Vance glared at her, baleful and tense.
Zaria looked around the cabin, like the books on the shelves
had suddenly closed in around her. Her ears were flat. She was failing to
control her breath.
“Isaac,” the otter said. “This contract’s for you, and you
alone. The feline queen’s become aware of your little bounty with the Diet
wizards. Fortunately for you, she don’t give a hair of her cunt what them
busybodies want of her. She’s threatening to revoke her membership in the whole
affair. And after seeing your work here, she’s willing to offer a pardon.
You’ll have royal protection. Sign that contract, and you won’t be hunted no
more.”
The wine in their cups swayed with the sea. The air smelled
of salt and meat.
“You hearin’ me, sir mage?”
Isaac blinked. “A royal pardon?”
“Aye,” Vance said. “Signed and proper. Not a bearded cunt in
your magic towers who’d think of crossing that. That’d mean direct violation of
her sovereignty, and you best believe she’d use it as pretext for war, if the
worst comes to pass. You can go home again, with nary a target on your back.”
His head was swimming. His mouth was sour with wine.
“Oi,” Vance said. “You gonna put your magic hands down, or
you gonna say something?”
“I—” He was drunk. He
wished, very strongly, that he could be sober. He lost his balance as the deck
swayed, stumbling back into Zaria. He smelled her fur beneath the leather coat,
and she steadied him against her chest, grabbing his shoulder in hand. It was
enough for his mind to pierce the haze. “Why me? Why not her, too?”
The otter shrugged. “You’re more important. You’re the one
naming these creatures. You’re the one blasting ships off our tail.” Vance
looked above Isaac’s head, resting her gaze on Zaria. Her expression hardened.
“You’re hard to replace. She’s not. I can find a dozen hands on any dock. She’s
common, and she’ll just be a stain on this crew, once it’s all history.”
The ocean hissed around them.
“She is not common,” Isaac said.
“Oh, aye, she is. There’s no doubt there.”
“She is not common,” Isaac repeated, seething.
Vance paused, confused by both the remark and his tone.
“What you mean? Course she is. She’s as lowborn as they come. Compared to you—”
Isaac leaned hard on the table, rattling the plates. “She is
not some—”
“Isaac.” Zaria grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back. “Shut
up a moment.”
“You don’t deserve—”
“Shut your fucking gob, Isaac.”
He made to speak. She silenced him with a glare. After a
moment, he stepped back, almost losing his balance.
“Captain,” Zaria said, her words coming slow and careful.
“Thanks for goin’ out your way for me. It’s—” She
cleared her throat, refocused her gaze. “It’s appreciated.”
“Aye,” Vance said. “Least I could do. You’ve served me well,
and that deserves payment in kind.” She straightened her coat, looking the hyena up and down. “As of now, you’re relieved
of duty. I’m not thinking that confining you is necessary, is it?”
“No, capt. Prim and proper, as always.”
Vance made a noise in her throat. “Talk to Thorne. She’s
been ‘round the island before. Can give you some direction. Sure Percy here’s
got a map or two of his own. You’ll have enough to get yourself going, that I
promise.”