“Harruk’sha,” Ilior swore in his own tongue and the two began to walk the wooden planks that made up the boardwalk.
On the southern side were the docks where dozens of ships, their sails furled, bobbed like a forest of barren trees set afloat in the dark. More ships sat at anchor farther out; larger brigs or carracks that belonged to the pirate bosses of the various collectives. Lights winked in the cabins of some. The bosses, Selena had learned, ruled Uago, but from a safe distance in the event a quick getaway was necessary. On the other side of the boardwalk, the taverns, inns, shops and brothels lined the street, sagging against one another, their facades white-washed by sun and salt and weathered by wind.
The air was humid and heavy with the smells of sweat, rum, fish, salt, and offal. Night had fallen over Port Sylk, and the denizens and visitors of the port city had come out to play. The oil lamps cast lurid shadows, raucous and drunken laughter filled the air, as did the sounds of breaking glass and curses. Fisticuffs broke out between sailors every few paces and more than once Ilior had to shove aside a duo of brawlers as they spilled onto the street from a tavern or brothel. Prostitutes called from windows curtained with red silk—or more likely linen dyed red—their breasts pushing out of low-cut dresses. Others fanned themselves desultorily, regarding the scene below with flat expressions under garish makeup that ran down their cheeks in the relentless heat. Spice shops made Selena’s nose itch as they passed, and fortune-tellers tried to lure her into their dark shops where hanging crystals glittered in the windows. They ceased their entreaties when Ilior’s shadow fell over them and the sober men on the streets gave Selena and her companion a wide berth.
“I don’t know what to do next,” Selena told Ilior, stopping outside another tavern. A weather-beaten sign above a tavern door proclaimed it The Last Call. The boardwalk ended. Its wooden planks giving way to a narrow dirt road that led to the poorest district in the town, a place named the Jetties. No oil lamps lit and the night was black and breathing.
Ilior wrinkled his snout “The last call, indeed.”
“I don’t have much choice.”
“Wait.” Ilior laid a clawed hand on Selena’s arm. “We are being watched.”
“Where?”
“Where the street ends. I saw movement, fleet and small.”
Selena turned and looked to the blackness. A shadow flitted with a whisper of movement. Before she could call out, the stranger peeked out into the murky light spilling out of the Last Call’s windows.
A young girl, perhaps no older than twelve, peered at them with large brown eyes from under a matted nest of hair that bore braids, beads, and small seashells as ornament. She was skinny and small, her clothes shabby, her feet bare. She gave Ilior a sidelong glance and then fixed her gaze on Selena.
“Selena Koren?”
Selena stepped back. “How did you know?”
“Bloody bones and spit, everyone here knows you. It’s not big, Uago, and Aluren magicians aren’t too common. ‘Specially not ladies.”
Selena nodded, tight lipped. “Yes, that’s apparent.”
“What’s your business?” Ilior asked.
“Not mine,” the girl said. “Jarabax. He wants to see you. Says he’s got something for you and he hired me to take you to him.”
“Who?” Selena asked.
“Jarabax Ruhl,” the girl said in hushed tones.
“The name means nothing to me,” Selena said. “A pirate?”
“A pirate boss,” the girl said. “You don’t mess with him, right? So are you coming or not?”
“No.” Ilior crossed his arms over his fur vest.
Selena laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “What does he want?”
The girl rolled her eyes. “I told you. He’s got something for you. Something that will help you, I think.”
“He told you that?” Ilior demanded.
“No. But I’m a good listener.”
Selena thought for a moment. “If he has something helpful, he can bring it to me. Tell him I’ll meet him at the Wayfarer Inn to—”
The girl shook her head. “He told me you might say that. You have to meet him at one of his places if you want what he’s got. He pays me in scraps o’ food more often than pennies. I can take you there or I can go hungry. You pick.” She crossed her thin arms over her chest and cocked an eyebrow at Selena.
Ilior reached for his coin pouch. “We can give you coin enough for a meal—”
“I’m no beggar, lizardface; I earn my money.” She looked to Selena. “Now see here, the whole island knows you’re trying to get a ship out to Isle Saliz. And pretty soon, they’ll see that no one’s coming to get you. That you’re stuck. Pretty lady like you? The longer you stay here, the worse it’s going to get.” She jerked a thumb at Ilior. “Even with him around.”
“She’s right,” Selena said. “We’ve been here nearly a week; wounded fish flapping in the tides while the sharks circle closer.” She turned to the girl. “What’s your name?”
“Hanna.”
“All right, Hanna. Let’s go.”
“I don’t like this,” Ilior muttered as they slipped into the shadows after the girl.
“Neither do I,” Selena replied. She rested her hand on her sword hilt and the dragonman did the same. “But our options run short.”
“Maybe Jarabax’s gift is a ship,” Ilior said.
“And a crew to man it,” Selena added. “I have a feeling we’re not going to be so lucky.”
Jarabax the Jinxed
Selena peered into the dimness around them. Her hand clutched the hilt of her sword and the sacred word for calling light was ready on her lips. In the daylight, hundreds of ramshackle homes built of old driftwood, the wreckage of ships, and other various flotsam were visible climbing up the hillside, one built against the next. The homes looked like they were holding one another up and the whole lot of them would slide down the hill in a light wind. In the dark, those same buildings didn’t seem fragile, but menacing. Selena felt as though they were walking through an insect hive and at any moment, their presence would be detected and the swarm would come boiling out of the black windows. She could feel Ilior’s tenseness beside her. Ahead, Hanna moved in silence and with ease along the twists and turns. Once, Selena thought she saw the glow of light in Hanna’s hand, a candle perhaps, but then gone again. Mostly, they moved in the dark.
At the start of their trek, that darkness was alive with sounds. Muffled shouts and curses from behind closed doors, the wail of a baby, a harsh barking laughter. Twice, vagrants stumbled out of the dark to accost them. The first man. Ilior frightened away by drawing himself up and stretching his lone wing. The second man, brandishing a rusted knife, wanted blood before coin. Selena blinded him with a light globe and the man fell away, cursing and stumbling across empty bottles that clattered in the alley.
Hanna had given Selena and Ilior a disapproving glare. “Try to be quieter.”
Soon enough, the streets grew silent, and now Selena felt an emptiness in the hovels around them.
“People live here?” Ilior wondered.