“I have a promissory note from the Moon Temple,” Selena said. “Should anything befall me, you can find it among my possessions. Failing that, the Moon Temple has a copy and you may collect from them.” She rose to her feet. “Fear not, Captain, you’ll get your gold.”
“I should hope so,” Julian barked a laugh that faded immediately. “Except that I don’t sail to Lillomet. Or Parish, or Killomede, or Sevren. Not ever, so don’t ask.”
Selena resumed her seat. “I was expecting to return to Isle Lillomet upon completion of my quest.”
“Not my problem. I’ll bring you back here. Or to Isle Kabak, if you prefer desolate poverty to pirates. But that doesn’t solve the problem of my fee in the event of your untimely demise.”
Selena found her unease and frustration mounting the longer she remained in Julian Tergus’s presence. “I’ll make other arrangements. Now, if there’s nothing else…?”
“Nothing,” Julian said, “but to get the ship provisioned up, and quickly. I don’t think we should remain here another day. The pirate you spared has no doubt squealed to his gang about the unfortunate loss of Mallen.”
“Mallen was your doing,” Selena said.
“Killing him was the best thing to do. Your letting the other go free was a mistake. I’m surprised, in fact, you weren’t greeted by a gang of Mallen’s collective this morning.” Julian tossed back the rest of his wine. “We’re running on luck right now and nothing more. I recommend you remain on board and send Svoz to retrieve your belongings from your inn. We’ll sail at first light.”
Selena nodded and rose, her eyes drawn to the blood stains on Julian’s shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want me to heal you?”
Julian smiled dryly. “Does it offend your Aluren sensibilities to leave a wound unhealed?”
Selena felt the color drain from her face, and Julian seemed to realize what he’d said as his smile slipped and his gaze dropped to her chest, to where her wound lay.
“Aye, it offends me more than anything.” Selena said stiffly.
She walked around his desk to stand next to Julian. He leaned back and tensed almost imperceptibly, and she sensed that if she intended to harm him, she’d be dead already. She poured water from the ampulla on her belt, and laid one hand on the bloody swatch of his shoulder. She found the moon with the other. “Illuria.”
An orange light glowed under her hand and from under his linen shirt, and his crude stitches broke. The skin healed. He said nothing at all but she felt his muscle under her hand ease.
She released him and made her way back across the cabin, concealing her weariness with measured steps. At the door she turned.
“I’m not paying three hundred gold for an injured and bloodied captain,” she said. “I need you healthy and hale if you’re to sail me to Saliz. Try to stay that way.” She left his cabin, slamming the door behind her.
Ilior was waiting outside. “What it is it?” he asked, alarmed as she stormed passed him. “What happened?”
Selena went to the rail and looked out over the gray-green waters, inhaling the salty air. Isle Uago rose out of the sea like a festering boil. Tomorrow it would disappear from the horizon and her quest would begin in earnest.
There is no one else to take us there. No one else.
“Selena?”
“I was just… speaking to the Captain about his fee,” Selena said, “and it…it struck me that this is really happening. That I will soon be battling those Bazira. That my wound will close at last.” She shook her head. “It overwhelmed me for a moment. I’m fine now.” That had shades of the truth and so not entirely a lie.
“You look pale. Frightened, almost.”
“I am frightened, to have to kill in cold blood,” Selena said. “But for the first time I have hope, which is almost as scary.”
“There is nothing wrong with hope.” He put his arm around her. “I’m glad it wasn’t the captain himself who upset you,” Ilior said after a moment. “If he had…well, it’s not too late to find another. I told you, I don’t like him.”
Selena pressed her lips together. Neither do I.
The ship first appeared to them on the morning of their fourth day since departing Isle Uago. It was the first vessel of any kind they’d seen; the Marauders’ Sea was not only tranquil, its horizon was empty.
Captain Tergus didn’t like it.
Their southerly course should have put them flush in the trade routes. Pirates, and the merchant ships they harassed, should have been passing them every hour. The traffic should have been constant and hearty. Instead there was nothing. When the ship appeared in Captain Tergus’s spyglass, he’d looked almost relieved, but still intended to give her a wide berth. They kept an eye on her, and Selena was on the quarterdeck with Helm and Julian when the wiry crewman made a sign with his hand.
“What is he saying?” Selena had asked.
Julian had the glass to his eye. He lowered it and snapped it shut. “Dead ship.”
At twilight, the Black Storm came within half a league of the vessel: a schooner, larger than the Storm by a good forty spans. The sea was no longer calm but wind-tossed; small waves that slapped against the Storm’s hull. The Storm bounced on the choppy waves, yet the schooner sat low and untroubled. Selena watched Julian frown and narrow his eyes. He didn’t like the look of this either and this time Selena couldn’t blame him. There was no movement on deck, no hands, no lights, no lookout on the masthead, no helmsman at the wheel.
“It does look dead,” Selena said. The above-water hull looked sound, though there wasn’t much of it to see. Seven Swords, as proclaimed by the lettering near the prow, looked as though she had taken on cargo, she sat so low. Selena had the impression she looked at a Juskaran sarcophagus in its tomb, instead of a ship at sea. Without having to go aboard, she knew its crew was gone, the ship abandoned.
Ilior was more hopeful. “Perhaps the crew is below deck, playing at cards or dicing.”
“Just letting her drift?” Julian pointed to Seven Swords’s bow. “The anchor’s home.”
Ilior wouldn’t give more than a shrug, but Selena knew Julian was right. The captain turned to Helm. “We sail on.”
“Wait.” Selena grabbed his arm. “Do you hear that?”
The Seven Swords that was now a quarter of a league off and the air had become thick and heavy, promising rain, yet the sky was cloudless. The sound came again, a faint whimpering and muffled words.
“Someone on that ship is calling for help,” Selena said.
“I heard nothing of the kind,” Julian said. “Sounded like a moaning timber. Or a rusted wheel. They squeal like boars if you don’t—”
Again, faintly, and this time words were clear. “Help me, please…”
Julian pressed his lips together.
“Get me aboard,” Selena said.
“Hold up right there,” Julian hissed, and Selena realized they were all speaking in quiet tones and the hair on the back of her neck stood up, as if lightning were about to strike. “It could be an ambush,” he said. “Be smart now.”