Chapter 5 #2
“This is a bad idea,” said Fahr. “If she wishes to be returned to an Emperial port, we’re obliged to take her. The Touchstone doesn’t take hostages.”
“Anymore,” said Smoke.
Thanavar growled, and it was the most terrifying thing I’d ever heard.
But I didn’t look away. Nor would I speak first.
“Very well,” he said. “Ensign, if you do this one thing, we will take you to the Emperial port of your choosing.”
See what it means to serve the Ship of Spells, he had said. Forge, a part of me wanted that very much.
“Your skills as a mage are lacking,” he went on. “But that speaks more to the state of the Oversea Navy than you specifically. If I decide to let you stay, Mr. Fahr will be tasked with any training in magiks, if and when I see fit.”
Fahr’s brows shot up. “I didn’t agree to that,” he barked.
“I did not ask,” said the captain, and he turned to face me. “Well?”
I swallowed, tried to slow the racing of my thoughts. Every nerve in my body was on high alert just being in the same cabin as this dangerous man. He was a blade of oiled steel in a captain’s coat, mysterious and lethal. I knew at some point, he’d draw blood.
Still, this was the Ship of Spells, filled to the masts with magik and skill I could learn. I’d never get this chance again.
Finally, I nodded, not entirely sure what I was agreeing to.
“Mr. Oakum,” said the captain. “Have Mr. Worley send a swift to High Temple and notify the king of the attack on Hodgetown. Tell him that we would have been able to put out the blaze entirely had not his dog Bracebridge interfered yet again.”
Thanavar downed the last of his wine.
“Gentlemen, Ensign, join me on the bridge.”
Chairs squeaked, the table was vacated, and I was swept along with them. Soon, we were back on deck. It was noon now, and pale Ember was high in the sky, with massive Forge dragging slowly behind. Clouds littered the horizon, and for once, the sea was calm.
The crew parted as we strode to the rail, each one knuckling their forehead at the captain in salute.
I grumbled under my breath.
“Honestly, Ensign Renn,” sighed Echo. “You really must learn to control your thoughts, if only for the sake of my poor heart.”
I rolled my eyes. I liked Echo, and, despite his gruff persona, I found myself even liking Smoke. Fahr was a puzzle with his bold yet easy manner, but the captain? He was a story in a forbidden book I couldn’t seem to put down.
Thanavar slowed as he approached the bulwark.
“Tell me,” he said to no one in particular. “Here? No. Here?”
He walked in slow, measured steps along the gunwale, hands gliding just above the smooth wood of the rail. Finally, he stopped, closed his eyes, and just stood. It was as if the very ocean held its breath.
“Here,” he said.
I glanced at Fahr. I glanced at Smoke. I glanced at Echo, wringing his long fingers, a victim of everyone’s innermost thoughts.
I glanced at Buck, standing behind us, arms crossed over his massive chest. I glanced up to see the harpy watching us from the nest. Finally, I glanced back at the captain, who turned to face me, the hint of a smile on his lips.
“Over you go,” he said.
Buck stepped up, followed by Smoke.
“Go?” I asked.
“Where do you think vain, insignificant Blues go?” he asked. “Over the side, Ensign Renn. Time to go over the side.”
I gaped at him.
“Over you go, Blue,” said Fahr.
“Why?” I cried out.
“You must touch the water,” said the captain.
“But why?”
“You’ve been given the map,” he said. “The chimeric will show us the way.”
Thanavar reached down, patted the rail.
“Trust her,” he said, his words soft yet firm. “And take the first step.”
“Take the first step,” I repeated, trying to assemble the bones of my spine. “Over the side.”
I looked behind me at Fahr.
“Obey the captain,” he said. “Trust the ship.”
He’s not my captain. I’m not his crew. I am a wretched girl from a lost frigate, yet somehow entirely too proud for the Ship of Spells.
All the things I should have said, along with my resistance, melted like a snowflake on my tongue.
The Touchstone rocked gently as I gripped the rail and peered over. There was nothing, no foothold, no knots, just several flights to the cold, black waters below. I’d already spent days with only a water-logged plank to keep me adrift, and the thought of going back filled me with dread.
Aro’el, said that voice again.
Aro’el. The Rhi’Ahr word for “chase.”
Someone slapped my arm, and I looked up to see Smoke holding a bolt of rope.
“You do know how to tie a foggin’ bowline, yes?”
I took it, held it for a moment in my gloved, scarred hands.
“Do they hurt, Ensign?” asked Echo.
I shook my head. They didn’t, actually. Days earlier, they had been shredded, torn, bloody, and boned. I just didn’t know them anymore. They weren’t mine.
“Fog it,” said Fahr. “Let me help.”
“I can do it,” I muttered and knotted the rope, bent to slip it under my boot.
“Waist, girl! You put it around your waist!” Smoke said. “And for the love of the Sister Moons, take off your boots! Did Taran Vir teach you nothing?”
At the name of my mentor, my throat tightened, but I’d be damned if I let Smoke Oakum see.
I slid out of my boots, stepped into the circlet, and hiked it over my black breeches and up to my middle, settled it against the blue of my sash. Smoke wrapped the rope around the rail like a pulley and passed the end to the minotaur. Buck looked at it, then back at Smoke.
“Well, I’m not going to belay her,” said Smoke.
Buck grunted, and it almost sounded like a laugh.
“Over you go, then,” said Smoke. “Don’t dawdle.”
I eased my backside onto the banister.
“Trust the Touchstone,” said Fahr. “She won’t let you go.”
With a deep breath, I swung one leg over the side, and there was a sound.
Rumble and grate, grind and squeak. Slowly, magikally, a board moved out from the ship’s grainy hull. Right where my foot would go.
“Trust her,” said the captain. “She never fails.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and stretched down, touching the edge of the board with my bare toes.
It was cold and slippery, but it held, and I eased my weight onto it, sliding my other leg over the rail.
A second board pushed out of the hull, and I stepped down onto that as well.
Each footfall was met with magik, a bulge of wood that formed a step and slid back once I’d passed.
Bracing the side with my bare feet and gripping the rope with my left hand, I scaled the slippery side of the Ship of Spells, clinging like a barnacle, rising and falling with her on the waves.
“Touch the water,” called the captain.
I hated him, but, to be honest, I’d never felt so alive as I did in that moment.
My feet were near the waterline now, braced against the smooth hull, and sea spray stung my eyes. I leaned to my right, reaching, reaching. Matching my movements, the rope around my waist began to list as Buck slackened his grip. I tipped slowly sideways to the sea, reaching for it, reaching…
“Glove!” called Echo.
Swiftly, I tugged one off with my teeth and tucked it into my sash.
Not the one holding the rope, however. I left that on.
I knew how a rope could burn a bare palm.
I’d learned that fair quick, on my first days at sea.
Besides, if the chimeric had burned the stepladder to cinder, I couldn’t imagine what it would do to a rope.
The patterns on my arms began to glow, and I looked up. Fahr, Echo, and Smoke watched me from above. I couldn’t see the captain, but I could imagine him standing aloof and apart, arms folded across his chest. I didn’t know why, but I could taste the excitement as the waves splashed my toes.
We were under sail now, and the ship rose and fell on the waves. I looked down. The water was dark and cold and black and free, and I bent lower to dip a finger into the deep.
I’m not sure what happened first, the boom or the flash. Chimeric rippled from the touch, shooting across the waves in patterns that were instantly mimicked on my skin.
I snatched my hand from the waters. The fingers were numb, so I shook them out, my arm tingling with tats and needles and pure chimeric fire.
“Back in!” shouted Fahr from above.
“That was wonderful, Ensign!” called Echo. “But we need more!”
You’ve been given the map, Thanavar had said. The chimeric will show us the way.
I could find it.
I could find the Marelethan, and the Endorathil, and any other source of chimeric on this side of the Dreadwall.
Maybe even on the far side of it.
For the first time in a decade, maybe we had an advantage in this bloody war.
I took a deep breath, steeled my nerve, and plunged my hand into the water once more.
Colors crackled behind my eyes like lightning across a stormy sky.
My ears popped. My teeth chattered. The breath left my chest, and all thoughts left my head.
Runes raced from my fingertips to my toes, setting my hair on end and sending my heart to a rate of knots.
But once again, chimeric cut through the waters.
“All hands! Sou’sou’east! Follow the line!”
I had been given the map that horrible day when the Dawn Watch sank. The map and the key and the compass, all bound up in a salty bluemage named Honor Renn.
“Follow the line, you scurvy gobs!” Smoke’s words echoed above.
Pips and whistles, shouts and bells. With a crack of her sails, the Touchstone set off to the chase.