Lodesh leaned toward Connen-Neute. “He’s in a better mood,” he said softly. Alissa silently agreed, thinking he looked nothing like the tired man she had met in the tavern.
The sound of water slapping the side of the Albatross grew loud, and Alissa looked up the tall expanse as they bumped into it. A rope ladder rolled down, and she stood, swaying for balance. Talon left her shoulder and vanished to chitter unseen from the top of one of the masts. At Lodesh’s gesture, she grasped the ladder. The cord was damp and cold in her hands. Heart pounding, she abandoned the bobbing rowboat for the slow, ponderous swaying of the Albatross.
Dark thin hands reached down for her, helping her over the railing. Connen-Neute was next, shortly followed by their supplies arching over the railing to land in a jumble on the deck.
Captain Sholan was standing with his hands on his hips, squinting in the dark at the sails flapping noisily. A skinny man in a red knit hat was beside him. He caught Alissa’s eye and said a few words to the captain. Immediately Captain Sholan turned, beaming as he came forward. He was still smiling as he halted before them, a contagious good humor flowing from him.
“I need to thank you, Ma’hr,” he said, touching the brim of his faded hat by way of greeting. “It’s because of you I got my boat back from my poor excuse of a wife.”
“Former wife!” the skinny man called loudly from the wheel, grinning, and Captain Sholan bobbed his head and smiled.
“Me?” she said as she picked her pack out of the growing clutter. She glanced at the sails. They were making a terrible amount of noise, but no one but her seemed to notice.
The man solicitously took her pack from her. “She is a bad woman, Ma’hr. Disguising her wants with pretty words and thin kindnesses that come from her greed and not her heart. She didn’t believe me when I told her I was going to sink the fortune I made for her into the waves if she didn’t stop docking her boat in another man’s bed.” He bit his upper lip to make his mustache dance. “There’s only so much a man’s pride can take. But when I told her I was taking you out for a pair of boots, she gave me back my boat and sundered our marriage before I made good on my promise to drain our accounts to buy hats for harbor whores.”
Alissa’s face burned, and she was glad it was too dark for him to see it. With a small grunt, he directed her to a small recessed dip in the deck where the ship’s wheel was. The skinny man had the wheel, his arm muscles bunching as he managed it. Benches lined two sides of the recessed deck, a hatch leading down into the black behind it. Her bells chiming, Alissa followed. “She’s broken your marriage because of me?” she asked, feeling guilty.
“Aye, and I owe you deeply for it, Ma’hr. Me and my crew both. My regular crew,” he amended. “Not the dock chulls I had to take on to replace those that got work elsewhere while I was—ah—waiting for a run suitably worthless to tip her over the edge.”
He stepped easily into the recessed pit, turning to extend a work-leathered hand to help her down. It reminded her of the firepit at the Hold, though it was vastly smaller. Calling out, he tossed her bag to a swarthy man wearing an apron standing belowdecks.
“Hayden will show you where you can bunk,” he said, indicating the dark man who had caught her things. “Best get everything belowdecks before we get out of the harbor proper and the spray starts to come over the deck.”
“Yes, of course,” she murmured, glancing up at the noisy sails as Strell, Lodesh, and Connen-Neute joined her. Their arms were full of packages, and even in the torchlight, Alissa could see that Strell looked positively ill.
“Iron’s on deck!” someone exclaimed. “Comin’ about!”
Alissa felt the boat turn, and a strong hand pushed her shoulder down. “Watch the boom, Ma’hr,” the captain said as the heavy beam of wood holding the bottom of the sail swung over the deck where her head had been. A thump rattled under her feet as the sails caught the wind and landed firm against their ties. The sudden cessation of noise from the sails was shocking, and the boat began to move.
“Over the deck?” Strell whispered, clutching his pack before him.
Lodesh grinned. “Yes,” he said merrily. “Great waves of spray going up and down for weeks on end.”
His voice rose and fell as did his hands in explanation, and Alissa swallowed, feeling slightly ill. “Do stop,” she chided him, and Lodesh and Connen-Neute exchanged curious looks.
“This might be the shortest voyage on record,” the young Master said. “I do believe our Alissa may be prone to seasickness.”
10
“Ma’hr?” the galley man said, his lyrical, dockman accent attracting Alissa’s attention like a chirping bird.
She smiled as he wiped his hand on his apron and held out a thick-walled mug of tea. “Good morning, Hayden,” she said happily as she accepted it on the flat of her hand. The time she had taken it by the handle, he had angrily thrown it overboard, cup and all, much to the disgust of Captain Sholan. According to the superstitious dockman, she had given wandering spirits permission to drink out of it.
Hayden ran a hand not yet gnarled by the sea over his bearded chin. “Saw a bird on the mast afore dawn,” he said, his brown eyes serious. “That’s good luck.”
“Almost as good as a cat sneezing on you before you get up, right?” she questioned.
He smiled, wrinkling his otherwise young face. “You’re learnin’. Now, don’t take my tea up to the bow. A man died there from a fall, and he won’t take kindly to you wakin’ him up.”
Alissa nodded, shifting the hot cup in her fingers. The dockman was slowly warming up to her. The other two maintained a suspicious distance; the ship’s boy wouldn’t talk to her, and the other was on the night watch. She didn’t even know his name. Taking a sip of the cooling tea, she watched Hayden wedge another notch out of the wall support with his knife. There were three cuts so far, one for each sunrise they had seen since leaving.
One hand on the mug, the other gripping the rail fastened to the low ceiling, she made her bell-chiming way to the bright square of light at the end of the aisle. The floor was slanted under her feet, and the dip and swoop was soothing. “Comin’ about!” a muffled voice called, and she tightened her hold. They had been tacking back and forth since leaving the harbor. If the captain was right, they would find the current today.
The angle of the sun on the wall began to shift, and she felt the boat turn. Seeming to hesitate in its rhythmic motion, the deck under her feet leveled out. The sound of flapping sails came from overhead. Alissa took advantage of the level floor and scrambled halfway up the wide stairway to the deck. Head poking out, she watched the violent flapping of sails. Like magic, the noise ceased and the sails filled. The floor tilted the other way, and Alissa leaned into the wall supporting the stairway.
Timing her moves with the boat, she lurched up onto the deck. Noise and motion engulfed her. The wind caught her long hair, pulling it into her eyes despite it being tied back with Lodesh’s ribbon. A smile came over her. To be going somewhere with no effort was extremely satisfying. “It would be grand to fly,” Beast whispered unexpectedly into her thoughts. “I know I could teach you to fly when there was nothing you could run into.”
Alissa grimaced. “There’s the water,” she answered, and she felt Beast sigh.
From her position by the midhatch, she looked to the bow where Connen-Neute was standing on one foot, balancing against the motion of the waves and the push of the wind. Talon was perched beside him on the railing. The young Master made an odd sight with his hands and head bandaged, the front sail outlining him on one side and the sky on the other. The ship’s boy was watching him with uneasy glances as he went about his work, occasionally touching the tattoo of a fish on his shoulder to ward off evil.
Behind her in the recessed wheel deck were the captain and Lodesh. Her eyebrows rose as Lodesh had the wheel in his hands—again. He looked grand with the wind tugging at his tailored clothes and the hat jammed on his head. His green eyes were squinting up at t
he top of the mast and the flag fastened there. The captain was pointing at it, explaining something. It was obvious the sun and wind agreed with Lodesh. She had a sudden desire to be next to him. Warming, she looked past him to Strell.
Strell was at the very back of the boat, slumped against the railing. He looked awful, giving Alissa a weak wave before turning away, clearly wanting to be left alone. Her own ill feeling had vanished the first day out, and she felt bad for him.
“Alissa!” Lodesh called, his voice faint from the wind. “Come here. The captain is explaining about the direction of the wind and why we have to zigzag.”
Not caring why, Alissa nevertheless made her grasping, halting way to ease herself down on one of the built-in benches. She could have made the same trip under the deck and come up at the wheel pit hatch, but it smelled down there. Glancing at the captain, she sipped her tea. “Thank you for agreeing to take us out,” she said.
Captain Sholan beamed. He was wearing Lodesh’s boots, and his feet were spread wide against the boat’s motion. “It is my pleasure, Ma’hr. I’m in debt to you.” He smiled, showing bad teeth. “The longer I stay out of port and away from that woman, the happier I’ll be. As it is, I can only take you out for three weeks, more is the pity.”
“Three weeks?” Alissa questioned. “You said we have enough food and water for two months!”
The captain eyed her darkly. “We do. One month out and one month back. I’ll cart you about wherever your little heart desires for three weeks. Then I start back. Besides,” he said, fidgeting, “I’ve got three dock chulls—beg your pardon—on my boat.” He grimaced. “That’s almost half my crew. Keep them on the water too long, and they’ll cause trouble. No. Three weeks is all I’ll give you.”
Alissa took a breath to protest, desisting at Lodesh’s subtle shake of his head. Her brow furrowed as she grasped the significance of the marks Hayden had made in the galley. Perhaps she and Connen-Neute could make the rest of the journey by wing. She wasn’t going to come all the way out here just to turn around and go home. But as her eyes went from Strell to Lodesh, she wondered if she could do it.
Putting his hand to shade his eyes, Captain Sholan chewed on his upper lip to make his mustache dance. It was a nervous habit, and Alissa wondered about the food stores. “Got the wheel all right?” he asked, and when Lodesh nodded, he added, “Keep her steady.” The captain levered himself out of the recessed deck. He strode to the first mate preparing to go off watch, his shoulders hunched in what looked like concern.
Her gaze shifted back to Lodesh, and she hid a smile behind her mug of strong tea. He looked taller with the wheel in his hand and the strength of the boat under him. The breeze tugged at the yellow curls peeking from under his hat. With his eyes on the distant horizon, he looked more relaxed and content than she had ever seen him. “It must be easier than it looks if he’s willing to let you steer the boat alone,” she said.
“It is,” he said. “And if I shift too far off course, the sails start flapping.” He loosened his hold on the wheel and immediately they turned into the wind. The pitch of the deck lessened, and the sails began to rattle. The crew going off watch looked up from their breakfast, and Lodesh pulled the boat back where it ought to be. From across the deck, the captain shouted, “If you can’t hold ’er, I’ll get someone else to do it!”
Lodesh grinned and waved. Scowling, the captain followed the first mate belowdecks.
Alissa took another sip of her tea, warming what was left back to near boiling with a quick ward. Her eyes were drawn to the bow and Connen-Neute and Talon. When the bird noticed Alissa’s attention on her, she launched herself into the air.
A stab of fright went through Alissa—undeserved and embarrassing—as Talon circled the boat. She was heavy with the weight of something as large as herself. With a sliding hush of feathers, the bird landed to pin a dead rat between her feet and Alissa’s shoulder.
“Oh, Talon,” Alissa exclaimed in disgust, shuddering as she moved both the bird and rat to the bench. “How wonderful. You eat it. I’m definitely not hungry.”
Lodesh laughed, but Alissa saw nothing amusing. “Has she always brought you her catches?” he asked as Alissa pushed the rat toward her bird and Talon nudged it back.
“Always.” She frowned. “I liked it better when all she could catch was grasshoppers.”
“Hm-m-m-m. How sure are you that Talon is a her?” he asked, and Alissa gave him an odd look. “What I mean is, I’ve seen birds do that to a prospective mate.”
Alissa flushed. “She just wants to share her catches, that’s all. And look at her markings. Males are more striking than that.”
“True.” Lodesh glanced at the yellow flag at the top of the mast. “But how old is she? Perhaps she’s a he with her feathers going gray?”
“Birds don’t go gray,” Alissa scoffed. “Talon is a she.” But her thoughts went back to when she had found Talon flapping ineffectively on the forest floor in an attempt to get into the air. Talon’s markings had been darker then. Actually, the only reason Alissa had decided Talon was female was because of her larger size. It had only been the last few years—the last few years of a suspiciously long life span—that her feathers had become so dull.
Quiet in thought, Alissa ran a finger over Talon. The small bird jumped to her shoulder, tugging at her hair until the white ribbon fluttered free. Alissa made a grab for it, but it was gone, over the side and into the water. “Talon!” Alissa cried in exasperation, then turned to Lodesh. “I’m sorry. And you had just gotten it for me, too!”
“I’ll get you another,” he said, his eyes warm with emotion.
Chattering as if insane, Talon snatched up the rat and struggled into the air. Alissa put a hand to her head as Talon circled the boat three times to gain height, then landed atop the highest mast to eat her breakfast. “That’s it?” Alissa shouted up at her bird, not caring that the ship’s boy was staring at her. “You lose my ribbon for me and leave?”
Talon’s response was hardly audible over the wind, and Alissa slumped into her seat. Lodesh touched her shoulder, and she jumped. “Want to try piloting the boat?” he asked.
Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I can’t,” she said, imagining the clatter of the sails and the harsh looks of the sailors if she put them off course.
He grinned. “Just for a moment? It would be a shame if you came out all this way and never really found out.”
“Found out what?” she asked, hearing the challenge in his voice.
He hesitated, teasing as he adjusted his hat. “The wind and the water meshing. That’s what a boat does. It harnesses both, and you can feel the strength of them only when holding the wheel.” He shifted to hold the wheel with one hand, the muscles in his arm bunching. “Here. Slip in ahead of me. I won’t let go until you have the knack of it. Promise.”
She eyed the small space he had offered her, then glanced behind them at Strell looking out the back of the boat. “Ah,” she stammered, thinking if she got that close, Strell would see and try to do something to prove he wasn’t ill. “Thank you, no. I want to talk to Connen-Neute.”
His crestfallen disappointment convinced her she had made the right decision, and taking her tea, she made her wobbly, hesitant way to the bow and Connen-Neute. She gave the crew hesitant smiles as she passed them as they assembled in grumbling knots before the captain and first mate. Unlike the first mornings when there had been an almost seamless change, both the day and night watches were present. The three dockmen were clustered before the first mate as he questioned them. No one looked happy.
“Morning, Alissa,” Connen-Neute said silently as she stumbled closer.
“Excuse me?” she said slyly, remembering Useless’s charge to keep him talking aloud.
“You heard me,” he said, his voice just above the noise of the wind.
Grinning, she sat down and peered up at him, wondering how he could keep his balance on two feet, much less the one he was standing on. Arms spread wide, Conn
en-Neute slowly pulled his leg higher. “Would you like some tea?” she offered, extending the amber brew.
“No, thank you. Hayden’s tea is worse than Lodesh’s used to be.” His Master’s vest furled in the wind, and the wrap around his head fluttered like a kite tail. Pulling his limbs back toward himself, he gracefully sank down to sit cross-legged before her.
Alissa dropped her eyes, the mention of Lodesh’s tea recalling her time trapped in the past. She had tried to make changes so that he wouldn’t have to endure the pain of watching his beloved city go empty under a friend’s curse. But the only thing she had managed to change was the quality of his tea. Oddly enough, the only person who remembered it was bad before was Connen-Neute.
“How are you this morning?” Connen-Neute asked.
“Fine.” Her thoughts went melancholy upon Lodesh and Strell. “Not fine,” she amended. He said nothing, and she silently picked at the fraying seam in her shoe. “Connen-Neute?” she asked, wondering about what Useless had said the evening before they left the Hold. “Why did you want to be schooled with the next transeunt?”
A puff of amusement escaped him. “I didn’t want him or her to believe we were all like Keribdis,” he said. Glancing past her at the distant crewmen, he slipped the wraps from his hands and eyes.
Keribdis, Alissa thought, feeling a stab of anxiety. Her thoughts went to Beast, helpless and vulnerable. Alissa had been hiding Beast for almost two years, and Useless had never caught on. But Keribdis had been trained to spot such abnormalities. “Is she that bad?” Alissa asked.
Connen-Neute’s long face reddened. “She’s strong-willed, refusing to see a path to an end other than the one she came up with. Like you, in that way.” He ran his fingers through his short dark hair to free it from the shape the scarf had pressed into it. “But the real reason I wanted to be schooled with the next transeunt was that Redal-Stan told me it would be a sure way to shift the balance of the conclave. I could gain the trust and ear of someone who would probably hold a great deal of sway.” He shrugged sheepishly. “I work better by stealth than bluff and bluster. Keribdis is hard to confront. I can never remember what I wanted to say.”