Chapter 43
Once the ship is fueled and crates of food are brought to the cabins, we set sail.
The farther we drift away from Gadonia, it seems to be nothing more than a bright blip in the distance as the sun reflects on buildings trimmed with gold.
“Before you lot get comfortable, you have some rules to follow!” Solyen shouts as he paces back and forth in front of us. “Number one, stay away from the gunwales!”
“The what?” Algar asks, gripping a built-in rail.
“The gunwales—the edge of the ship,” Solyen explains with a slight roll of his eyes. “This ship is fast, and when I give the wheel a hard steer, I don’t send up a warning. One turn can toss you overboard and have you chopped up by the screws.” He looks Algar in the eye.
“Yeah, well, you don’t have to worry about that.” Algar squeezes his eyes shut as he grips the rail tighter, appearing queasy already. Zephra clings to the ankle of his trousers.
“Number two, there will be a point during this journey where you must be inside the boat and must keep your voices down. I will inform you when that time comes.”
“Why?” Rynthea asks.
“Because if you want to make it to The Shallows as quickly as you say, we have to pass through The Void. Ever heard of it?”
“I’ve heard a bit about it, yeah,” she responds.
“Then you’ll know The Void is where the worst sea creatures lurk. I don’t want them attacking my ship all because a bunch of children can’t shut their honey holes.”
“Um, what kind of creatures, exactly?” one of Solyen’s crew members asks. It’s the boy I saw hanging around the crow’s nest. He’s young—can’t be older than his fifteenth or sixteenth year. He seems absolutely petrified as he stares at Solyen’s profile.
“Oh, all kinds, boy.” Solyen turns his head to eye him. “Sea beasts twice the size of Emellie with tongues like snakes. Sharks who eat through metal. Zerenias who sing the sweetest melodies but will bite your bloody dick off once they have you in their clutches.”
“Told you,” Rynthea mumbles to Algar.
“Not now, Rynthea. Not now.” Algar covers his mouth like he’s about to be sick.
“Conred, get that one a bucket,” Solyen orders, gesturing to Algar. “I don’t need him throwing his guts up all over my deck.”
Conred runs off, only to return seconds later with a wooden bucket.
He pushes it into Algar’s chest. Algar wraps his arms around it before stumbling back several feet until his back is pressing against the nearest wall, his shirt a little cockeyed and exposing skin.
His back slides down the wall with a squeak of flesh on metal until his butt hits the deck, and he drops his face into the bucket.
He looks rough. Zephra hops onto his shoulder again.
“Who knew I was the type to get seasick?” His voice echoes into the hollow of the bucket.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never ridden on a speedship before,” Rynthea taunts.
“Never.”
“Orvena’s sake,” she mutters. “Didn’t you say your father worked for a sea biologist?”
“He did,” Algar mumbles. “But I didn’t get to sail with him much, and if I did, we were on regular boats, not ships that go so fast they make you dizzy.”
“Rule number three!” Solyen shouts, capturing our attention again. He pauses for a moment, pulls out his flask to unscrew the cap, takes a swig, shrugs, and says, “Actually, there is no rule number three.”
“Seriously?” Rynthea mumbles. “This man is going to get us all killed.”
“Just make sure you remember rules one and two,” Solyen insists before drifting past us. “Carry on. Best that you enjoy your lives now before they come to an end on that island of death.” He opens the door to the captain’s quarters and disappears inside.
We can’t go near the side of the boat, but there are ropes dangling close by, their ends anchored into posts. I walk to one of them and grip it tight, peering over the edge to see the water.
Solyen’s magic-powered speedboat is incredibly fast—so fast I can hardly feel the ship rocking or swaying. It seems the Emellie is cutting through the sea like a knife through butter.
“Fucking shadows.” Algar moans, dropping his face into the bucket again. Zephra gives him two little pats on the head in a “there, there” sort of way.
Rynthea removes her rucksack and digs through it until she pulls out a white flower. “Here.” She stuffs it into Algar’s hand. “Eat a few of those petals.”
“What is it?” he croaks.
“Skyflower. I found it in Immalon. It’ll curb the nausea.”
Algar studies the crumpled flower petals before popping them into his mouth and chewing. Then he sighs and rests his head on the rim of the bucket. With a deep exhale, Rynthea takes the spot beside him.
Thane sits on a bench to sharpen some of his daggers. Our eyes catch, and I give him a smile. A smirk appears before he focuses on his daggers again.
“I take it you love the sea.” Someone’s voice rises behind me.
I gasp, nearly letting the ropes go as I turn my head to find the culprit.
“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” It’s the boy Solyen called Conred. I sway a bit, and he grips the rope to steady it. “Did I startle you?”
“A bit, yeah.” I force a laugh.
“I sincerely apologize.”
“It’s okay.”
“May I ask that you stand behind the ropes, though?”
“Oh. Uh, yeah. Of course. Sorry.” I release the ropes and move back, making sure not to get my feet tangled in the thick lines below.
“It’s just that I’ve seen way too many people trust these things and then we hit a snag in the sea, and they go flying over, ya know?” He releases a nervous laugh.
“Right. That makes sense.”
“I’m Conred Joshell.” He offers me a hand.
I take it and give it a shake. “Zaira Quinlocke.”
I study his features—the deep brown of his skin, the darkness of his coarse hair, and the faded gold streaks in them that can never be replicated. I know exactly where he was born.
“You’re from Ember Coast,” I say.
“I am!” he exclaims, pleased that I know.
“That’s—that’s incredible. So am I.”
“No way. Do you have any other family around?” he asks.
“Just a sister.”
“It’s wonderful that you have someone.” Conred scratches the top of his head. “I wasn’t so lucky.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s not your fault. Besides, after I spent some time in the refugee center in Meriva, I was adopted after just two months. So I’d say that was fortunate.”
Ah. That explains why I don’t remember his face. I grew to know everyone at the refugee center over the years.
Conred points to the captain’s quarters. “Captain Solyen adopted me.”
“Oh. That was kind of him.”
“Yeah. But other than the fact that he was lonely, I think he just needed a new chief mate. He tells me he wants to pass Emellie down to someone one day. He doesn’t have children of his own, so…”
“He would leave the ship to you.” I nod as it sinks in. “His heir.”
“Yep.” He takes a step back and looks past me to the others. “The people you’re traveling with are an interesting bunch.”
“Yeah,” I half laugh, half scoff at the comment. “I’ve heard that quite a lot lately.”
He studies each of them with a faint, intrigued smile. “You all seem very close…but distant. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“Yeah, well…” I let the words go. I’m not quite sure how to explain our crew, either. Our relationships are complicated at best and a shit show at the very least. And mine with Thane? Well, our lines have blurred—a lot…
“Anyway, I was just about to go inside for some tea and sweet rolls.” Conred points at a door across the deck with a half-moon window. “Would you like some?”
I light up at the mention of food and tea. “I’d love that.”