Page 11 of As She Ascends


  Aaru’s expression was tight, pinched almost, as he wove through the crowd. Ilina, Hristo, and Gerel looked all right, but Chenda had her face ducked, as though trying to hide the tattoos over her cheek and neck.

  Behind them, the city of Lorn-tah rose on the bluff. Even in the darkness, I caught hints of grandeur: stone obelisks soaring against the sky, multifloor buildings with extravagant balconies, an immense pyramid library that housed tales of every warrior who’d ever lived. Light from the port diminished the stars, but both moons were high tonight, razor-thin crescents.

  Something else caught my eye, too: a warrior and a port guard walked side by side, pointing up at ships as they passed.

  The warrior was too far away for me to see clearly, though I knew he wasn’t Altan. But where there was one warrior, there were others.

  And they were clearly searching the ships.

  “Hurry.” I picked up the pace, even though my legs and arms ached. We’d be safe once we reached the Chance Encounter.

  Fewer people moved up and down the pier—only people who needed access to these ships. That made our passage easier, but we’d be even more obvious to any of Altan’s warriors now.

  I counted berths as we passed: one, two, three . . . Ships filled the spaces. Most here were barcs, like the Chance Encounter. They were impressive ships, some boasting five masts, but I was looking for a four-masted vessel with red and gold sails.

  The regular stomp of boots compelled me to glance over my shoulder again. More warriors and guards, making their way down the pier to the first ship.

  Aaru and Gerel had noticed them too. Without speaking, we lengthened our strides, urging the others faster and faster.

  Ahead, all I could see were masts and furled sails crowding the night sky. What if the Chance Encounter had left? It was possible the berthing fees had become too much, and Captain Pentoba decided to leave on the evening tide.

  There would be nowhere to go but back into the port, to search for another ship heading our way. And the warriors were getting closer.

  My heart thundered in my ears by the time we reached the berth marked fifteen-fifteen, but the Chance Encounter was there, waiting as promised. Her name was painted in curling red letters across the bow.

  “Come on!” I darted left down the dock that led to the gangplank. It was empty, save the crew standing watch and working on the main deck.

  Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen . . . I counted steps.

  “They’re well behind us.” Gerel kept her voice low. “They’re searching all the ships, and we’re only getting on one.”

  I nodded, but her words didn’t soothe the frayed parts of me. “There are more of them than us.”

  Gerel didn’t reply.

  We turned up the gangplank, and from the corner of my eye, I caught a troop of warriors swarming down the dock to the barc in fifteen-fourteen.

  Closer. Closer.

  At the top of the ramp, I forced my shoulders back, my chin up, and my voice steady as I addressed the crewman stationed there. “I need to see Captain Pentoba.”

  “Who are you to ask about the captain?” asked the crewman, a sun-darkened woman with a slight squint. Her hair was sectioned into eleven neat braids, then pulled up in a ponytail; the ends just brushed the middle of her back. A long knife waited at her hip, not at all hidden by the wrapped vest she wore. Idrisi cotton, if I had to guess. Her trousers, too, were of high quality.

  Movement grew on the main deck of the ship across the pier. Warriors called out orders to search the holds.

  “Well?” The crewman scowled. “I need a name.”

  I glanced at Ilina, who nodded. “I’m Mira Minkoba.”

  At once, the woman’s posture changed, and she studied me with new interest. My dirty clothes. My messy hair. My scarred face. “Hopebearer.” She sounded uncertain.

  “My companions and I must leave Lorn-tah immediately.” I kept my head high, in spite of her scrutiny. In spite of the exposed feeling of standing up here, out in the open. Altan could probably tell I was here just by the scent on the air. “Immediately,” I said again.

  She looked at me, then at the others. “I know you,” she said to Ilina. “All right. Let’s go see the captain.”

  Heart pounding, I stepped onto the deck, pausing just long enough to let my legs adjust to the movement of the ship.

  Five more crewmen worked on the deck, and their stares followed us as we hurried after our guide. I didn’t see the woman who’d offered a strange salute as I’d disembarked in Bopha, but now I thought I understood what it had been about. Ilina had been in contact with the captain, who might have told some of the crew about me. Certainly, they’d known who I was on my voyage to Bopha; they must have wondered why I’d been on Khulan.

  The part where I’d stayed belowdecks for the entirety of the trip hadn’t been unusual, though. Elbena—and my parents, because they usually traveled with me—had often kept me out of sight. I’d always assumed that was for my privacy. Now I knew it had been to isolate me.

  Our footfalls thumped on the deck as we made our way to the captain’s quarters. There, the crewman knocked, waited for a reply, and then ushered us inside.

  In spite of being the captain’s quarters, it wasn’t a large space. The six of us, plus bags and basket, plus the crewman, plus the captain sitting at a desk, made the room hot and crowded. There was a window, the glass panes wide open, but if a breeze managed to find its way into the room, it died upon arrival. The only things coming through were bells ringing and voices calling.

  And in my own head, a hum of anxiety began.

  “So.” Captain Pentoba leaned back in her chair and propped her bare heels on the desk. “You’re the Hopebearer.”

  I gave a jerky nod, trying not to be too obvious as my breaths turned shaky. But my heart raced inside my chest, and every noise was suddenly louder. Sharper. The creaking of the dragons’ basket, the groan of wood, and the clatter of numbers in my head.

  Eight people. Five bags. One basket.

  Five noorestones, four walls, one desk.

  “Took your time.” The captain hadn’t moved.

  “Sorry.” The apology was automatic, out before I could recall that we’d spent the last eight days trekking across the island and running for our lives. “Will you still sail for me?”

  Those words pulsed through my head, and I tried not to shrink under her glare.

  Captain Pentoba was a tiny woman, with smooth black skin even darker than Chenda’s, and eyes the color of sand. Her hair and her lips were tinted a deep shade of wine, a magnificent choice that Krasimir would have applauded, but I could only see someone much bolder than I. More confident. Though she wore the same type of wrap vest and trousers as the rest of her crew, everything about her screamed authority.

  The anxiety wasn’t leaving, and neither were the warriors. I tried again, forcing my words to be more than faint squeaks. “Will you sail for me?”

  The captain studied me, then the rest of my friends, before she addressed the crewman who’d brought us here. “Teres, get One in here.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Teres quit the room and let the door fall shut behind her.

  The captain looked at Ilina. “You said three people. Now, forgive me if my math skills aren’t what I always believed, but there are six of you. That’s twice what we agreed upon.”

  As though she wasn’t at all worried about the warriors closing in on us, Ilina let loose one of her dazzling smiles. “I’d rather hoped you wouldn’t notice.”

  “Hard not to notice when that’s twice the mouths to feed.”

  “We brought food.” Without waiting for her invitation, I set my bag on her desk and opened the flap. I did it quickly, before she could see the way my hands trembled.

  Captain Pentoba slid her feet off the desk and leaned over to peer inside. “I like dates.”

  I nodded for her to help herself.

  “I don’t like them dried, though. Only fresh.” She curled her lip and l
eaned back. “But fine. Say I sail for you. What’s in it for me?”

  Ilina frowned. “We had an arrangement.”

  “And now the arrangement has cost me a hundred lumes for staying here an extra decan, plus the money I’ve lost for not delivering the cargo burning a hole through my hull.” She shot a pointed look at Ilina, then at me. “And now twice as many people as our arrangement originally stated. Personally, I don’t see how this benefits me anymore.”

  She was right. We were imposing on her. I was imposing.

  But how would we escape Khulan if she didn’t take us?

  But why should I expect favors from anyone? She owed me nothing.

  But she’d promised Ilina.

  Anymore. That word finally caught up with me.

  “How did it benefit you to begin with?” My thoughts were a whirlpool and I was helpless to escape.

  “I wanted to be on the right side of history, of course.” She rolled her eyes. “No, poppet, your friend here indicated there might be monetary benefits to hauling around the Hopebearer, provided everything works out for you.”

  Aaru’s quiet code came against my elbow. ::Thought she would sail because you are Hopebearer.::

  I tapped my reply on my leg where only he would notice. ::Me too.::

  Five noorestones. Five bags. Two paintings.

  Please, Damina. Give me peace. Give me grace. But the maelstrom of anxiety caught everything, even prayer. I needed my amber bottle of calming pills. I needed that soothing haze that took over and slowed my thoughts and gave me space to breathe.

  I didn’t have my medicine. Just this moment. And I had to focus long enough to use it. “And now, Captain, you want something more.”

  She gave a fluid shrug. “You said it. And I wouldn’t say no.”

  Gerel shoved her bag into Aaru’s hands and stomped forward. “Now listen to me—”

  I grabbed her arm before she could draw back to hit the captain—or whatever it was that angry former warriors did when they felt betrayed. Violence wouldn’t solve this problem. I was already fighting the current of chaos inside me; I’d lose all control if Gerel got into a brawl.

  “Captain.” I struggled to measure my words. “You waited for us. And you’ll have to sail out of here anyway, what with those berthing fees and all that cargo, so you might as well take us with you.”

  “We have to go now.” Ilina’s voice was soft. “We’re out of time.”

  I shifted my weight forward, trying to convey the urgency without outright begging. Without letting her see that the walls I’d built around my panic were beginning to collapse. “We’ll pay you double.”

  She sighed and picked a dried date out of the bag, but didn’t eat it. She just turned the fruit over in her hands, contemplating.

  Everyone went quiet. Through the window, we heard gulls calling and bells ringing and boots thumping on the docks. And voices.

  I didn’t need Aaru’s warning this time. I heard Altan’s growling voice all on my own. “Search the ship. Search every hold. I know they’re here.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  HIS VOICE SENT A SPIKE OF TERROR THROUGH MY heart, but before anyone could speak, a large bald man burst into the room, jostling everyone. “Captain, warriors are coming aboard.”

  “Seven gods.” The captain shoved my bag off her desk and into my hands. “One, get these to the bottom. I’ll deal with the warriors.” She squeezed between us and was out on the main deck within heartbeats. The door slammed shut after her, but I still heard her shout ring out: “What’s all this about? What are you doing on my ship?”

  “Off the rug.” The man called One shooed everyone toward the walls, and when we’d all moved back, he pushed the rug aside to reveal a hidden door. “Get in there.”

  Another trapdoor. Another small space.

  Seven gods, help me.

  Gerel hauled open the door and peered inside. “There’s not enough room.”

  I got only a glimpse, but she was right; the compartment was quite small, with enough space for two people if they didn’t mind being pressed against a dozen boxes piled up against the walls. Maybe without all the boxes, but how would we move everything in time?

  “There’s another room below.” One took a noorestone from his pocket and gave it to Gerel. “We need to get you in there quickly, so for now leave your belongings up here. They’ll be safe.”

  Ilina hugged the basket with LaLa and Crystal closer. “This one comes with us.”

  One eyed her askance, but shrugged. “Your choice. Just get down there now.”

  We’d never make it in time. Through the cabin door, I could hear the thuds and crashes of warriors swarming across the main deck. And I heard Altan shouting: “Where is she?”

  Darkness fuzzed in the corners of my vision as Gerel slipped into the first hidden room, then found the second door that was just off-center from the top one. Without hesitation, she dropped to the bottom room and got on her hands and knees to crawl aside. The light went with her, but from the brief look I’d gotten, the second space was not big enough for us, either.

  “Go.” Hristo dropped his bag in a corner and nudged me. “Go now.”

  My whole body shook as I lowered myself through the first hatch, accepted the basket of dragons from Ilina, and lowered it into the second space. Gerel took it and slid it away.

  “Hurry, Mira.” Ilina sounded worried now, too.

  In the darkness, in the panic, I could hardly see well enough to find the second door again. But I slipped down and forced each breath to stay long and even.

  The captain’s voice carried across the ship, even through the closed door. “Get your grunts out of my hold!”

  “Come on, Fancy.” Gerel took my hands and dragged me toward her. “You’re a mess.”

  “I know.” I wanted to cry, but not in front of her. Not in front of anyone except maybe Ilina. And I wanted to be somewhere far away from all this.

  “Stay right here.” Gerel sat me against a wall next to the dragon basket, and suddenly I realized I was sitting up straight. The space was larger than I’d originally thought.

  The first compartment descended partially into this larger one. So while the middle of this area was cramped, the edges were just tall enough for us to stand, and perhaps two paces wide.

  This was the “bottom” Captain Pentoba had been talking about. A secret room within a secret room.

  A tiny room. Like my cell in the Pit.

  The others came down one at a time, not nearly fast enough. Ilina put herself on the other side of the dragon basket and took my hands, while Hristo and Chenda dropped in. Then Aaru.

  Six people down here. Two dragons. Lots of darkness. No space.

  “Stay quiet.” One shut the door above us, and something scraped the floor: he’d moved boxes over the door to hide it.

  And that was that. We were hidden.

  But how well?

  Heavy shadows blanketed everything, thanks to the strange shape of our refuge, and then it was all darkness as Gerel tucked the noorestone into her trouser leg and rolled up the cloth to block the light.

  Ilina squeezed my hands and let go. A soft scratch of skin on wicker suggested she’d pressed her palms to the basket. For comfort? For reassurance?

  Our brave little dragons were being so good.

  Or sleeping. I hoped they were sleeping.

  Bang.

  The noise came from above, and everything inside me tensed again.

  Footfalls beat the floor.

  Muted voices in angry tones.

  An object crashed right over my head.

  I bit off a faint whimper. We were going to get caught. We were definitely going to get caught.

  Footsteps: three, four, five . . .

  “What’s this?” Altan’s voice rumbled above us. He was so close. As he flipped back the rug hiding the first hatch, I could almost smell the Pit on him. The stink of unwashed bodies. The bite of blood. The sulfur stench of the washroom.

&nbs
p; Dread slithered through me, and the pounding of my heart intensified.

  Iron screeched as the first hatch opened, and then wood smacked the floor where he let it fall.

  Boots hit wood just in front of me. Someone—Altan—had dropped into the first compartment.

  The urge to hide reared inside me, but where could I go? This was the most hidden compartment on the Chance Encounter, and there was nowhere else to run. I was cornered. Trapped. This was where I would die.

  This was where we would all die.

  “What do you keep down here?” Wood muffled Altan’s words, but I would forever know the timbre of his voice. The growl. The confidence. The love of suffering.

  Faint light shone through the slats of wood, and those threads were just enough to allow me to see Gerel lifting Hristo. He pressed his feet against the interior compartment, and braced himself with his shoulders against the outer wall.

  “Private stores, huh?” Altan’s tone was a smirk as he opened and closed the lids of boxes.

  “Nothing illegal about that.” Captain Pentoba’s voice came from the main floor of her cabin. “You and I both know it.”

  Hristo was now holding himself just off the floor. And in the faint threads of illumination, Gerel motioned for the rest of us to do the same. Because she knew.

  Altan would find us down here.

  Panic surged through my head and seized control of my limbs. How was I supposed to do this? I wasn’t strong like them. I couldn’t trust my feet to stay where I put them, not while panic controlled my body.

  “No, not illegal.” Altan’s light shifted. “But I imagine your crew wouldn’t be happy if they knew what you were hiding from them.”

  Gerel was already up, the basket of dragons somehow balanced on her stomach. Chenda, too. Ilina wasn’t as tall, so she took a little more maneuvering, but she’d quietly braced herself between the walls.

  ::Hurry.:: Aaru tapped my shoulder.

  I couldn’t, though. My feet would bang against the inner wall and Altan would know. He’d know we were down here and we’d all die.