Chapter 18
Reva
Just when I was starting to get the slightest hint of equilibrium on the pirate ship, Jack finds a lead.
One that leads us to leaving the ship and heading into a giant bird’s nest that’s suspended in midair, high enough to give me vertigo just looking at it.
I clutch the seat of another rowing boat we’re sitting in once again, sending up a subtle prayer that we don’t have a second encounter with whatever beast from the deep tossed me into the ocean before.
“This is where we’re going?”
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Torin says from beside me. “Up in the bird’s nest is an inn which is built on stilts, ones that have been glamoured so they’re difficult to make out.”
“Right.” My eyes flick from Jack to the nest. “And since the rest of us can’t sprout wings, how do we get up there?”
He grins at me. “Magic. Welcome to the Dry Dock.”
That earns a grunt from beside me. Torin’s rowing the boat once again with steady strokes, and I huddle closer to Aster as a bone-chilling breeze hits us. He shifts his leg, so it’s pressed up against mine and even that minor contact between us is enough to slow my racing heart.
“He’s making it sound way more mysterious than he needs to.
They have a lift that carries you up there.
Must use a boatload of magic.” He grunts again, steering us toward a dock in the middle of the ocean, right beneath the bird’s nest. The waves batter us from side to side, and I cling harder to the seat while Aster keeps a firm grip on my thigh.
Torin docks us, tying a knot swiftly before handing me out of the boat first. The three of them then climb out, standing on a wooden dock and peering up at the nest again.
“See you up there.” Jack gives me a jaunty salute before shifting into his raven form and throwing himself into the air.
A beam of purple light lights up the area beneath the bird’s nest in front of us and my eyes grow wide as a pair of men levitate in the centre of it, slowly descending toward the dock.
“That’s how we get up there?” I gaze at Torin with wide eyes. His eyes glitter with the reflected light, and he nods.
“And that’s magic? Is it normal for people to use that much magic out in the middle of nowhere?”
“Not really,” he replies. “We’re maybe ten miles from land, and the area we’re in got hit hard in the last war.
It’s the kind of backwater town that used to be booming from its mines, and then when they closed it made do with manufacturing a lot of the munitions used.
After the latest peace treaty was signed, it got abandoned, and the people were left to rot. ”
“Right.” I’m clueless how that snippet of information leads to this place’s existence, something that must be clear from my expression.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere. No one would come here otherwise, so they decided they needed a gimmick.”
“Right.”
“It’s got a reputation for being somewhere that anything goes, so keep your ears open and your wits about you. I don’t want to have to start a riot after you accidentally sell your kidney if you lose at blackjack.”
“Noted.”
With Aster and Torin bracketing me on either side, we clomp along the dock toward the blinding purple light. “Do they have witches on staff for them to power this thing?” I murmur, shooting a look at Torin as I lower my voice even further. “Or sorcerers, maybe?”
“Doubt it. They probably just buy it in.”
“Is that a thing you can do?” I ask right as the blinding light hits.
We lurch upward, and my knees go weak. I feel Aster wobble beside me and clutch his arm while Torin steadies us both as we slowly levitate through the air.
It’s thankfully dark, so I can’t see too much as we travel higher and higher into the sky.
It is windy and bitterly cold, though and I find myself clinging on to Torin’s beefy bicep for dear life.
“Well, this is horrible.”
“You should have seen it a few years back. They used to have a rope ladder you had to climb up. It was no fun when there was a storm.”
We reach the top, and Torin keeps his hand on my elbow as I wobble off the magical lift.
The inside of the Dry Dock is sweaty and loud. The floor is a sticky mess of spilled fluids. It’s also overwhelmingly loud with hundreds of voices all shouting over music that seems to consist mainly of wailing.
It kind of reminds me of Mag’s pub.
In one corner, an orc is smashing his companion’s head off the table while the barman rings a bell.
It’s hard to tell if he’s egging them on, or trying to get them to stop.
I glance at Aster, who takes a step back while Torin glares around the room like he can shut everyone up with the force of his eyebrows.
“You really think Kit might be here?”
A pair of goblins are on a makeshift stage, one playing the banjo while the other wails. The sound they’re making is... loud, but there seem to be a few people enjoying it, seeing as there’s a makeshift dancefloor in front of them that’s teeming with people.
Torin bends down so he can speak in my ear and I’m hit with the scent of cloves, which takes me right back to last night. “If you were travelling around on a flying sofa, it’s as good a place as any to find contacts or supplies.”
His scent is both distracting and oddly comforting; a reminder that no matter how lairy things get, we have Torin on our side and when he’s shifted, he’s terrifying.
“Maybe I should have brought my banjo. We might have blended in better,” I say to Aster, who gives me a warm, if distracted, smile in response.
“Welcome to the Dry Dock.” Jack appears in front of us, wearing a wide grin. “Keep one eye on your wallet and another on your trousers; this place can get pretty wild.”
I grab Aster’s hand and tug him closer while Jack prances off, soon disappearing into the crowd.
“I need a drink,” Torin mutters, eyeing the room with a pained expression. “Stick to the ale, it’s least likely to kill you.”
The band breaks into another rousing chorus, encouraging the crowd surging in front of them to join in with their wailing.
Some of their audience start up a particularly jerky and violent dance style that seems to involve a lot of elbowing and knee jerks.
Aster pulls me out of the way just in time to avoid receiving a wayward elbow to the face, and I shoot him a wide-eyed look.
“Thanks.”
Another wayward elbow comes our way, and we both dodge before hurrying our pace to follow Torin. Surely, if anyone knows who's been in and out of here, it’ll be the people behind the bar.
The queue is three deep and made up of people who are a head taller than either of us. One twists around, clutching a handful of drinks in his... three arms.
I have been to a lot of places and seen a lot of types of people, but I’ve never seen that before.
The three-armed guy sneers at me as I shift out of the way with a bare nod. Darting into the gap he left clear before the queue swallows up the vacant space, I shove to the front.
“Can I help you, petal?” the grizzled, one-eyed bartender asks as the heat of far too many bodies presses up against me from all sides. “Ale for ya?”
“Two, please.”
He busies himself pouring the drinks before slamming a tankard down in front of me. “Here you go. I’ll spice it up with some fruit. Ladies love fruit in their drinks, ain’t that right?”
“I, uh, thank you,” I reply before leaning closer to be heard over the din. “Tell me... have you had any customers in recently who travelled here by flying sofa?”
He gives me a narrow-eyed look and then taps my full tankard with a dirty fingernail. “On second thoughts, maybe you’ve had enough.” With a little wink, he grins and adds something to my drink. “Just joking with you.”
I nod and fake a chuckle. “So, you heard nothing about it?”
Wiping the bar with a filthy rag, he shakes his head. “No. But back here, it’s hard enough to hear people’s orders. People could travel in on flying pigs and we wouldn’t know about it.”
“All right, thanks.” Giving him a grateful smile and an extra crown for his trouble, I step back and limbo my way out of the queue, toward a glorious patch of empty space.
I’ve also inadvertently stepped closer to the makeshift dance floor, which isn’t ideal. Then Torin approaches, surprising me by putting his arm around me from one side, while Aster takes the other. Together, they form a protective shield between me and the rest of the room.
“Shall we head somewhere quieter?” I yell over the sound of the wailing music.
Torin quirks an eyebrow while Aster’s lips twitch into a rare grin.
“To ask around,” I amend, then cover my embarrassment by handing Aster his drink. I’m about to take a drink of mine when I pause to eye the murky liquid. There are bits of something floating at the top... and it’s definitely not fruit.
Well, isn’t that just lovely?
“Let’s head through to the other room,” Torin rumbles, the sound of his deep voice somehow carrying over the screeching band.
The next room is no less busy, but it’s slightly easier to speak without having to shout.
We spend the next hour unsuccessfully trying to ingratiate ourselves into strangers’ conversations to ask about the flying sofa.
Some of the people here assume they’re being propositioned while others are less than friendly, but all have absolutely no idea what we’re talking about.
By the time we’ve made our way around the room, my shirt is sweaty and sticking to my lower back. The still untouched drink clutched in my hand is also looking more and more appetising to wet my dry throat.
“I don’t think we’re going to find anything here,” I say. “Have either of you seen Jack to see if he’s had any better luck?”