38. Zai
Zai
Blightlands sprawled beneath us, dark and twisted, stretching in every direction. Lark gripped the wheel, blinking and rubbing her eyes against the morning haze.
The inn where we’d planned to rest had been crushed by beasts, leaving nothing but rubble and an ominous purple-glowing tear in the air. Forced to choose between resting in that monster-swarmed area or continuing through the sky, we’d chosen the latter, drifting ahead through the night.
The ship wasn’t designed for sleeping, but the crew had split into shifts and found spots to lie down between crates and supplies below deck.
Nightmares of screaming people with melting skin plagued me, jerking me awake throughout the night with my pulse hammering in my throat.
Grunting, I rolled my shoulders, forcing the images out of my head.
Tera burst up the ladder, a broad smile stretching across her battle-scarred face. “Found her.”
Excitement sparked through me. “You found the moon girl?”
“Yep. She’s from a village called Rootmere, near the eastern border.”
Lark perked up. “That’s not far from here. Maybe a day’s travel.”
“Perfect.” Tera took over the wheel and glanced over her shoulder at me. “So, what do you think? Storm the village? We could take some prisoners and force them to tell us the Dual Wielder’s whereabouts.”
My insides squirmed at the thought of torturing more people for information.
Lark strolled to her map, pursing her lips. “Maybe there’s an easier way.”
A smirk curled Tera’s lips. “Enlighten us.”
“We could send a smaller team, two or three people. No fighting, just focus on getting the locals to talk.”
I nodded, already liking where this was heading. “That would probably make it easier to find someone familiar with the moon girl.”
Lark turned from the map, her thoughtful gaze shifting to me. “You should bring Kestrel.”
I raised a skeptical eyebrow, but I couldn’t deny she had a point. He had a way of making people talk.
On the deck below, Kestrel gestured wildly, urging the crew through their tasks with theatrical commentary. Several actually smiled at whatever nonsense poured from his mouth.
“Good idea.” Tera adjusted her grip on the wheel. “And take Flint as backup. In case things turn ugly.”
Flint’s drunken confession from a few nights ago flickered through my mind—how he didn’t really enjoy violence despite the ruthless reputation he’d built. He just played the role everyone expected.
We weren’t so different, him and me.
I hauled myself down to the main deck. “Kestrel. Flint. When we land this evening, you two are coming with me.”
Kestrel tilted his head. “Me?”
“Where to?” Flint grunted.
“Information retrieval in the Moon Queendom.”
“Wait…” A grin split Kestrel’s face. “You’re serious, aren’t you? And you want me to come?”
I sighed, the sound a low growl in my throat. “If you promise not to sing.”
Flint frowned. “Just the three o’ us?”
“Yes. No fighting this time. Just talking.”
He huffed, glancing around at the crew. “Well, let’s scorchin’ hope I can at least get drunk.”
Laughter rippled through the crew.
“Or get laid!” shouted Ravenous Rafforin, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
Mouthy Mara clasped Flint’s shoulder, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief. “Better watch yerself, Flint! Those moon wenches’ll freeze your cock right off!”
Jaded Jorgen’s lip curled. “Assuming he can find one desperate enough.”
Raucous laughter erupted across the deck, Flint roaring loudest of them all.
The humor grated on something deep in my gut—not the jeers and crude remarks, something else. A discomfort I couldn’t name.
I spent the day getting as much sleep as my nightmares would allow. When evening bled into night, Kestrel, Flint, and I changed into clothes in Moon Queendom colors, the cleanest we could find aboard.
Another candlemark crept by before Tera turned the wheel and barked orders. “Bring her down! Lower. Steady now!”
The ship descended toward a dark clearing. This was as far east as we dared venture without blundering into border guards.
I crossed to the navigation table, peering over Lark’s shoulder.
She added fresh markings to her map. “Rootmere should be six to eight candlemarks’ walk from here.” She traced the parchment, explaining we needed to follow the river to reach the village.
Lora’s home village. Anticipation surged through me. What would it be like? Did she have family there?
As the ship touched down, I climbed from the quarterdeck. “Kestrel. Flint. Let’s go.”
Not bothering to wait for the gangplank, I vaulted the railing and thumped onto soft ground. As I stalked toward the tree line, Flint and Kestrel caught up.
“In a hurry, are we?” Kestrel’s voice cut through the thickening trees.
I shoved aside a low-hanging branch. “If we keep up a good pace, we’ll be there before morning.”