9. NINE #3
Fankalo looked over the ledge to see Mitek swimming away from the Blue Wing officers and towards the far part of the cove, where they had hidden the skiff for Zeb. Zeb, still out of sight, was supposed to come to them. He was supposed to…
The disbelief settled in, feather-quiet, like a bird returning to its nest. She and Mitek had been gambled as potential losses from the start. She backed away, alone again.
Alone with flames, with bad smoke, with bad Luck, just as she had been on the day the Tera’thians came. At least, until she’d felt Calver. Her brother had always been like a candle flame at the back of her mind.
Until the light went out.
He’d appeared in Kaidech that day, for a little while. She’d felt him—right there. She thought he’d come to rescue her, until he disappeared all over again.
At that moment, he appeared in Fankalo’s mind for the first time since the scourge. Despite the heat, her arms grew cold.
“Calver?”
But this time, he wasn’t close. Her father had taught her basic navigation: north. Calver was north, and farther away than she’d ever felt him before. North? With the Tera’thians?
She sank to her knees. This time his name tore from her throat. “Calver?!”
With the same suddenness with which it had appeared, the spark of her brother flickered out. Gone.
A red glow rose around the base of the mass, blending with the smoke that now poured freely into the sky.
Fankalo collapsed on the deck, now hotter than was comfortable against her skin.
Loss and longing overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes.
She’d forgotten how much she missed him—her sun and moon.
Forgotten how much it had hurt when he broke his promise.
A scream rang out from somewhere below her. “Brat?” Then it came again. “Brat? Can’t you swim?”
Her eyes blinked open. Though she didn’t respond, Mitek kept shouting, an edge of panic in his voice. “Jump! I’ll—I’ll try to pull you to the skiff!”
As she found her feet, a falcon swooped sideways, avoiding the plume of smoke. Killari. Her eyes followed the creature to the horizon, where the stolen ship’s sails flapped at a strange angle. Her chest swelled. Captain Keane had turned back for them.
A ripping and crashing sounded behind her. She screamed as flame belched into the sky, taller than the center mast. The heat sent her scrambling up the stairs to the forecastle where she waited, desperate for someone to rescue her, yet again.
She waited for long enough that the ship began to tilt—long enough for her eyes to sting from the smoke.
Long enough to wonder if they would be too late.
The Respite listed farther and farther, starboard side lifting toward the sky.
Fankalo latched onto the starboard rail as her feet began to slip from beneath her.
The stolen Blue Wing vessel slowed as it approached the burning Rogue’s Respite and pivoted sideways until the two were only meters apart.
Fankalo clambered over the rail to stand on it.
Below, Mitek swam for a rope thrown from the ship’s side.
Then a gangplank was extended towards her, a bridge over the sea.
The ship was still moving as she leapt for it. She smacked into the plank with first her stomach and then her cheek and clung to it, limbs spread wide. Her ears were assailed by the rowdy cheers of the crew as they retracted it.
“Got them! Reverse sails!” Captain Keane screamed.
As she scampered aboard, a dozen sets of hands thumped her on the back. Then strong, dark arms seized her in an embrace. Fankalo returned it, burrowing her face into the crook of her father’s neck.
“Little one,” he rumbled, low, like distant thunder. “You are simply remarkable.”
A month ago she had been nothing. Now that she had magic, she was worth going back for.
“You have a new Rogue’s Respite,” she said, wiping her nose with her arm.
He gave her middle a squeeze. “It deserves a new name. This is the Rogue’s Rapture.”
Cam hauled Mitek over the railing and onto the deck. The boy looked like a drowned rat, highborn clothes and all, but his gaze fell steady on her. Her Luck hummed, subtle and deep, an impression she wasn’t sure she understood.
Cam jogged over to her, still in her father’s arms. “Chaos,” he panted, dirty hands clapping either side of her face. “There ent a scatch en ‘im. No thanks t’ Mitek.”
Mitek rolled his eyes. “Fire doesn’t scratch people, Cam.”
The two began bickering, but she didn’t hear where the argument went. Gelhard had stepped up behind them.
“What’s the course, Captain?” The quartermaster seemed as irritable as ever—as if he would rather she’d been taken by the sea.
“Make for the cove to recover Zeb. Then chart course for the Rollard Isles. It might do well to get lost for a few weeks.”
“Mesu.” Gelhard nodded and gave Fankalo a piercing glare before departing.
Her father set her feet back onto the deck and scowled at Mitek. “Left her, ay?”
The deckhand leaped into a salute. “Yes, Captain. I was just trying to get off that ship with both balls and a heartbeat. I didn’t—”
“Sure you still have both balls?”
Mitek’s face turned crimson.
“He tried to take me with him,” Fankalo interjected. “He hadn’t realized I couldn’t swim until he’d already jumped.”
Her father’s scowl only deepened. Mitek withered beneath it. “Seems like a reasonable thing to ask a companion before abandoning them on a burning ship.”
“Well, he tried to catch me too, only… I was afraid to jump.” She hated admitting her fear to him, but reputations were hard won and easily lost among the raiders. Mitek might be a coward, but he didn’t deserve spite over this.
Her father harrumphed and looked between the two of them. “I’ve a job for you, boy.”
Mitek saluted again. “Yes, Captain!”
“Teach my kid how to swim when we hit the next port.”
Mitek’s brow furrowed in determination. “Yes, Captain!”
Fankalo’s father squeezed her shoulder before moving to join Gelhard with their navigator at the helm.
“Preservation, I’m hungry,” she said smugly to Mitek.
Mitek kicked at the deck, looking down. “I suppose I can go and find you something to eat?”
She didn’t bother to hide her satisfied smile.
Rather than move toward the galley, he stood in place wearing an expression like he’d stepped in something unpleasant.
“Thanks,” he finally muttered.
“What was that, now?”
He cringed as he spoke through gritted teeth. “You saved me. So, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“And I’m sorry I’ve been...”
“A brat?”
“Yeah. It just—” Mitek’s nose twitched. His eyes welled for a moment, and she felt a flash of sympathy. “I knew the real Fankalo. He was like a little brother. So when you came. It... It was just weird.”
It was weird.
Fankalo shrugged. “If that’s so, maybe you can find something else to call me?”
“Yeah, maybe. What was your name before?”
Through her tightening throat, she almost said it: Arleena Curtaim. And that her brother, Calverous Curtaim, was still out there somewhere, and she would find him, Preservation help her, if it was the last thing she did, because he wouldn’t have just left her. Never. Never. Never.
Would he?
“It doesn’t really matter.” That life was no longer hers.
The afternoon sun glinted golden where it grazed the sea.
The wide-open space of the endless ocean had adopted her as much as her new father had.
She offered a final thought toward that life of darkness in a Kaidechi slum, where linens always covered the only window to their shanty.
It would never return. But maybe the best part of it would. Calver.
“You know you’re a girl, right?”
Fates, Mitek was an idiot. “Yeah. But I think, for the time being, I’ll be best off pretending I’m not.”
“Suppose it makes sense…”
“I… had a brother too,” she said, willing to give vulnerability in exchange for vulnerability.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” She shuffled her feet.
“I’m sorry.” His hand went to his neck. “Did you lose him? In the Tera’thian scourge?”
“No.” This time she couldn’t control it; tears came to her eyes. Her chest was so tight, she thought she might vomit. “He… left me.” Not just tears: heaping, heaving, humiliating sobs.
Mitek put a hand on her back. He guided her to the railing, where the other raiders were less likely to see her state. She was grateful for that.
“Doesn’t sound like much of a brother to me.” The protectiveness in his voice took her by surprise, but the comment did little to stifle the flow. “But you have a real one, now, eah?”
She wiped at her eyes. “A real bratty one,” she sniffled.
Mitek beamed at her. “Come on now. Can’t cry while you’re eating. You’ll make the food taste like seawater.”
They gazed into the ocean. A view that was constant, and yet never the same. Mitek stood by her until she got a grip on herself. Despite the new comfort of his presence, she couldn’t help but feel unease.
“Why did that Blue Wing sailor believe Kaidech fell to the Strikapa?” she asked.
“I don’t know. The way Keane explains it, most of Nelfindar doesn’t know the truth of things beyond the waters.”
“But why wouldn’t the Blue Wing know it was an invasion?” Nelfindar’s military should have launched a response.
“I… don’t know.”
Her grip tightened on the portside rail. “Well, I’m going to find out.” No matter what it took.
She would bring the truth of things to light. Because Nelfindar had to—had to—retaliate against the Tera’thians. Her magic didn’t lie: her brother had gone with them.