Chapter 31 Hakara
Hakara
The Sanguine Sea – the anchor point between Langzu and Pizgonia
Our captain, Falin, did not take the news of our mutiny well. “This is my ship,” he sputtered, his face red. “When I took your money, that didn’t mean you were welcome to take my entire gods-damned ship and sail it into the barrier. I granted you passage, nothing more.”
The maritime barrier was impressive, I had to give it that.
A wall of roiling mist rose toward the clouds, dissipating into the air somewhere higher than I could comprehend.
Down here, near the surface, the barrier looked like one continuous wave, crashing against itself.
People who complained about the lack of trade with Pizgonia really had no idea how hard it was to cross such a barrier, did they?
Sailors who had been to the anchor point must have gritted their teeth each time they heard someone say that passage could be easy if only someone took the time to figure it out – with the unspoken implication that the sailors were neither smart enough nor forward-thinking enough to do so.
A tattered flag flew from the anchor point – the Sovereign’s cherry-branch crest against a golden background, the colors faded and the ends tattered.
It was a broad wooden platform, sloshing high above the waves, metal rings affixed around its perimeter.
This close to the barrier, I could smell the aether, feel the mist against my cheeks.
Falin had dropped our ship’s anchor at our command, and we rocked close to the platform.
“How often does a ship go through the barrier?” I asked Alifra as I joined her at the rail.
“They don’t.” She pointed at the mists, nearly having to shout over the crashing water.
“The barrier’s short, but the sea is more than just choppy inside it.
The only way goods get across is using the anchor.
There’s been no reason to send people through.
When was the last time you saw someone from Pizgonia?
Any of the folks you see are almost certainly descended from people who crossed before the Shattering.
People like to claim they’ve been through the barrier, but as far as I know, it’s just that – a claim. ”
“You’ll break the ship,” Falin shouted from behind Dashu. Dashu had his blade out, the point held at the captain’s chest. The other sailors stood at a distance, hands raised. “This is my livelihood.”
I pointed at the anchor. “The goods make it through, don’t they?”
“Battered and bruised,” Falin said. “And even if the ship makes it, we won’t. There’s the small matter of the aether. Unless you can breathe it without harm, we’re in a whole lot of trouble.”
It felt like my gaze moved of its own accord, much as I tried to keep it under my control. Thassir – Nioanen. The altered had a greater resistance to the aether, but the gods could breathe it without becoming intoxicated.
Thassir lifted his gaze to mine and I felt suddenly locked in place. How much did I tell this man? Thassir had put his life in my hands when he’d told me the truth, and now I had to acknowledge some responsibility for that life. “We have our ways.”
Four filters – that was all we had.
I turned to the crew. “All of you who wish to can disembark at the anchor point. It may take a few days, but another ship will be along and can take you back.”
They bristled, and suddenly I was reliving that hypothetical fight in my mind. Guess sitting on an empty wooden platform at sea didn’t sound so appealing to most folks. Hands hovered near the hilts of knives and daggers.
A cat came skittering across the deck, black tail a bottlebrush. She stood between us and the sailors and hissed.
One of the sailors barked out a short laugh. “Oh, as though that’ll keep us from tossing the lot of you overboard.”
She shifted into a panther as big as a horse. Claws flexed. A massive tail lashed. The ship listed to one side. Someone screamed.
“A god!” another shouted.
So much for keeping others’ secrets.
“Right. Well. Off you go then.” I drew my sword and waved it at them.
They moved to the rail and one by one took the rope down to the anchor.
The platform wasn’t small, and we left them with several barrels of water and supplies, but it would be an uncomfortable wait, especially if it began to rain. They’d live, though.
Falin stopped at the rail, gazing down at his crew. He pivoted back toward us, hands up, brown jacket swaying about his ankles. “You need someone who knows something about sailing.”
Alifra pointed to her and Dashu. “Both of us know how to sail. We can handle it.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know The Birdeater the way I do. I won’t go. This is my ship. I go with the ship. Even if there’s a god on it.”
Talie stalked toward him, growling.
He stood his ground, though his face paled.
Thassir held up a forestalling hand. “Let him stay.”
I dug around in my satchel, handing one filter to Alifra and one to Dashu. I didn’t need one, not when I’d be downing god gems, and neither did the two gods with us. I held one out to the captain.
He took it, holding it the way a fisherman might a sharp-toothed fish.
Thassir frowned at me.
“What? So it’s fine for him to stay, but not fine to make sure he lives?”
“That’s a very sought-after artifact.”
“I’m not about to let the man die just because we’re taking his ship.
We’re going to take the boat through using the anchor chains.
Lower all the sails, bind them. The wind inside the barrier can only hurt us.
It’s not the best plan,” I admitted. I turned my head to watch Dashu put on his filter as Thassir went to the rail and Alifra moved to the sails, beckoning to Falin.
“Don’t you have any Aqqilan stories about people winning out in spite of terrible odds?
Woman comes up with half-assed plan, still succeeds through luck and a simple unwillingness to die? ”
He stared at me for a long while before responding. “I will be sure to pray for us all.”
Alifra gave a half-shrug, calling at me over her shoulder.
“It’s better than the other plan you were tossing about.
” My other plan had been just to hold my breath and go alone through the barrier using one of the anchor chains, sending the other three back to Langzu. All of them had protested, even Talie.
The sea was shallower here. Our predecessors had, through a good deal of effort and some sort of unknown ingenuity, placed the anchors on either side of the barrier, attached the chains.
Every so often, someone had to come out here and dive to replace them.
If they could do it, so could I. I’d been the best diver in Guarin’s company.
Of course, that would have left me alone on the other side of the barrier, with quite a distance to go to shore, a whole host of potential issues between me and safety.
Sharks, storms, exhaustion, hunger. “Did you really only think through the very first part of this?” Alifra had said, shaking her head.
“And what if you made it to land? What did you expect to do then, all by yourself?”
I’d opened my mouth, shut it, and then thrown up my hands. “Fine. We take the whole boat. We mutiny.”
Which wasn’t really what anyone wanted.
“Thassir?”
He turned his head this way and that, his gaze on the ocean, as though listening for some distant sound. Finally he drew back from the rail. “She’s on the other side. We have to follow.”
He sprang from the ship’s deck, his wings spread.
The sailors gave him a wide berth as he landed on the platform and examined the instructions on the raised metal plate in the center.
He unhooked two of the chains and hopped back onto the ship.
“Each time goods cross, they go with two chains – one from their side and one from ours. It’s how trade is maintained.
” He hooked the one for the return onto a ring at the mast that held some rigging rope.
I hefted the heavy chain, the metal cold and wet in my hands, the moisture seeping through my shirt and into my shoulder.
I focused on the task ahead, steeling myself for the journey, remembering how it felt to be buffeted by aether in the barrier between Kashan and Langzu.
This would be a little different. I had to be prepared for it.
The chain lightened, clinking sounding over the roar of the barrier as Alifra and Dashu lifted sections of it.
I gritted my teeth as I tugged the chain.
It didn’t move, but then I didn’t have the strength in me yet.
“We need rope. We should tie ourselves to the mast. Then let’s pull up the anchor.
” I pointed at the captain. “You. Get below deck. Find yourself someplace secure.” I didn’t have to tell him twice.
“You” – I pointed at Talie – “change yourself back into a cat and find a good corner to wait in. We can handle this up here. When we come through to Pizgonia, I’d rather keep you a surprise.
Lithuas knows she’s got one god on her tail.
She doesn’t know there are now two.” She nodded, shifted back into a scruffy-looking calico, and padded her way down below.
I barely noticed as Thassir helped Dashu and Alifra tie themselves to the mast. But then he was there, a hand on my arm. Quickly and quietly, he unwound the rope and tied it around himself before knotting the end around me. He stood behind me, lifting the last of the chain from the deck.
Facing down the wall of mist, I reached into one of the pouches at my belt and pulled out a small, glowing red gem.
“This isn’t foolish, is it?” My voice sounded small over the roar of the waves.
I wasn’t sure why I was allowing myself to be so vulnerable in front of him, but I’d staved it off for so long and now, this close to crossing, I felt myself folding.