Wisdom, p.10
Wisdom, page 10
part #7 of Beginning's End Series
At the same time, the door opened and a group of people walked inside.
They were fishermen, that much was clear to see from the way they were dressed—thick jackets wrapped around their shoulders, weather-stained boots, stiff with salt. Their knuckles were scraped raw from hauling in the nets, and each of them wore the same fitted cap.
There was also the smell.
“Heavens help us,” Evander muttered, drawing up his cloak.
They selected a table at the opposite end of the establishment, but spoke loud enough that the words could be easily heard. At first, Kiera thought it was plain rudeness, then she remembered the ceaseless roar of waves breaking against the wooden pier. Perhaps they had simply learned to compensate. Perhaps everyone who lived in the village spoke the same way.
A pitcher of ale was brought to the table, and they took off their gloves—rubbing their hands for warmth and pouring it into glasses. Most of the village was still asleep, but they’d been out all night and their day was ending. They would eat something, visit the brothel, then rest.
“—would never have believed it,” one of them was saying, “but there she was, right in front of my eyes. It’s true, what the people are saying. Bigger than houses, stronger than fifty men.”
The friends perked up in unison, but kept their eyes on their own table—digging their fingers into the wood and pretending they were occupied with something else.
“I don’t see how the harbormaster can allow it,” another exclaimed. “Though, I suppose it’s not like he can send her away. They tried to do that up in Perth; she tore the man’s house down.”
There was a low whistle, as each of them shook their heads.
The door had opened again by then, and more people were flooding into the tavern. They performed much the same routine as the others, nodding an acknowledgement to the bartender, pouring themselves a pitcher of ale, before slowly unwrapping the layers that encased them. It wasn’t long before the room was thick with the heat from the fire, and the smell of the sea. The friends were grateful every time the door burst open, allowing for a single breath of fresh air.
The fishermen were still talking, picking up steam. Gossip was scarce on the water, and the longer it continued, the more people clustered around them—drawn like moths to a flame.
“So she actually owns a ship?” one of them asked incredulously. He was younger than the others, unable to wrap his mind around it. “She rents it out to sailors?”
“It’s worse than that.” The man who’d been speaking leaned forward conspiratorially; he was enjoying himself now, preying upon the fear in the young man’s eyes. “She captains it herself.”
A chorus of howls ripped through the men, trembling the ground beneath them. There were many more smiles, now. Yes, it was impossible. But what else could they do? Instead of fretting, they indulged in rampant speculation, each voice rising louder than the last. After a few minutes, the man who’d been steering the conversation took hold again, sharing his final piece of news.
“Arsinia the Savage, they call her. Or possibly, Arsinia the Cruel.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “It’s hard to remember. I’ve never understood why giants must have full titles.”
Kiera’s eyes flashed to the others, her body going perfectly still.
There is a GIANT in the village? There is a GIANT captaining a ship?
The chorus was back again, rising and falling in waves. How does it even carry her? Does it not sink beneath her weight? While the news had been a shock just moments before, suddenly, each of them had a story. I heard she swallowed a man in the Brennilin Strait because they’d run low on rations. Her voice cracks loud as thunder, and whenever she loses her temper, she throws one of her passengers into the sea.
The friends had gone perfectly still, fighting back a rising sense of dread.
If there was a single person who’d actually be excited about the prospect of meeting a seafaring giant, if there was anyone guaranteed to make her lose her temper...it was Eden.
Oh no... Kiera lifted her eyes to the window, pale with fright. No, no, no—
He appeared beside them a moment later, sliding into the remaining chair with a windswept smile. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and his eyes were bright as the sunrise.
“I found us a ship,” he announced triumphantly.
That smile hung between them, waiting to be returned.
“You found us a ship,” Evander repeated, closing his eyes just long enough to draw a single breath. “Please tell me it’s not—”
“It’s called The Gallows, which they refused to change, and it sails with the morning tide.” He glanced towards the bar, looking immensely pleased with himself. “Which leaves us just enough time for a drink. Are they serving ale this early? That’s splendid—”
“How in the blazes did you manage that?” Jesse demanded, his heart still racing from what they’d overheard. “We have virtually no money, Eden. How did you charter us—”
“The captain owed me a favor,” the fae interrupted smoothly, trying to catch the bartender’s eye. “He agreed to take us free of charge.”
The others glanced up in unison, a bit of that tension easing from their chests.
He agreed to take them? The captain...was a man?
“Well, that’s...that’s wonderful.” Evander sank back in his chair, practically breathless with relief. “A job well done, my love. I never doubted you.”
The fae nodded obliviously, thinking it quite wonderful himself. A chorus of excitement still swelled from the corner, but he’d yet to notice. He took off his cloak instead, flushed with the heat.
“Seven hells, it’s warm in here. Why did you not wait for me outside—”
Evander grabbed his arm a second later, pulling him back to his feet. “The morning tide, you said? Then we haven’t time to linger.”
The others were already standing, gathering their things and moving hastily to the door. The fae stumbled after them, his wrist still locked in the vampire’s iron grasp.
“Wait, I haven’t even gotten something to drink—”
“There will be drinks enough on board,” Evander interrupted, dragging him casually through the crowd. “Which way is this ship, you’ve found us? I cannot wait to see it.”
The fae tripped sullenly over the threshold before glancing back just as fast. “Wait—there’s a giant?!”
Chapter 9
The Gallows might not have been the grandest of ships, but its mast stood as high as any other, and was well-matched against the rest. It had been sailing for over twenty years, Eden told them, as they weaved through the crowd. A testament to the captain and the skill of the crew. Most others had torn and been resurrected many times over since then. But theirs was built from the wood of the same trees that had crafted it—everything from the bow to the keel remaining perfectly intact.
They paused at the end of the gangway, standing in a loose line.
For all their cheer and bluster, there was something abruptly sobering about it, each of them feeling the immense weight of what was coming next. It had been easier to put it from their minds in the forest, where the trees were bright and ceaseless, and every turn looked exactly the same. It was a different thing entirely when they were standing in the shadow of a ship. About to step onto that wooden plank and sail into the unknown. About to leave their world for the very first time.
Eden was the first to move, though it came as little surprise. Without a backward glance, he strode fearlessly up the walkway, the vampire at his side. Jesse glanced first at the hull and then at the water, as if debating if one was truly strong enough to keep out the other. A moment passed, then he pulled in a breath and followed, glancing back at the top to find Kiera still on the ground.
“Are you coming?” he called.
That’s a very good question.
Not until that very moment had it struck her: there was a decent chance she might never return. They were off to find a dragon, after all. A creature of such mythic proportion, they were better suited to stories—tales of fiction, spun by the bards. Having seen one herself, she was sorely tempted to run screaming in the opposite direction, grab hold the anchor, bind herself to the dock.
And then, of course, there was the stone. Not the emerald, that was tucked safely away. The stone.
She reached into her pocket, holding it tightly in the palm of her hand. The rest of the dock was chilled and damp, but it warmed to life beneath her fingers, thrumming with its own kind of magic, urging her forward and into the beyond. Her own body warmed in recognition and she lifted her chin, trying to remember the passing comforts people told each other in such times.
One foot in front of the other.
She drew in a breath, and stepped off the pier.
WE HAVE HAPPENED UPON a new kind of madness.
No sooner had the friends reached the deck, than they were accosted by a ruddy-faced man with half a coil of rope looped distractedly from his neck. It was a merchant vessel, not the kind of ship that usually took passengers, but if he was surprised to see them, it didn’t show on his face.
“You are the fae?” he asked briskly.
In anyone else, it would have been curt to the point of rudeness, but Kiera got the feeling he wasn’t accustomed to speaking any other way. Things moved at a different pace on the ocean. A place where one could be killed by the snap of a rope just as easily as a swarm of selkies pouring over the deck. You would find no wasted words or flowery greetings. People meant exactly what they said.
Eden nodded in silence.
“Come with me.”
They followed as he guided them past the thick weave of men hurrying about the deck of the ship—hauling bags of wheat and flour up the gangway, skittering up ropes, and ducking with unworldly intuition when iron hooks swung their way. In any other context, it would have been chaos. But the men knew their business, and were as sparing with their movements as their words.
Only a few glanced up from their tasks as the friends walked by—staring just long enough to be troubled the second they were past. Was that a vampire? Did those not burn in the sun? And what of the woman? Their captain had never granted passage to one before. They were said to bring back luck.
They had just reached a set of doors, when a loud voice called out behind them. Their guide called something back, gesturing furiously to the rigging before passing them off to someone new.
The new man had even fewer manners than the first, greeting them with a brusque, what am I supposed to do with you, as trickles of sweat dripped from his brow. But he was quick and efficient, accepting charge of the passengers and leading them swiftly below deck. They followed him through a jumble of corridors, each more narrow and rickety than the last. The floor creaked beneath their boots, the walls pounded with distant boots, and the ceiling lowered with abrupt severity, the men were forced to duck their heads. At last, they came to a large room, brighter and cleaner than the rest. Two sets of cots framed either corner, while a chest of drawers was bolted to the side. The floor had been scrubbed to a polish. A rounded window poured in a flood of morning light.
They took a tentative step inside before Eden turned to the man who’d brought them.
“Would it be possible to speak with the captain?”
Hurried as the man was, one did not refuse the request of a fae, especially with a vampire standing alongside. He nodded curtly and turned on his heel, leaving the door open behind him.
Kiera turned her eyes back to the room, sweeping from corner to corner. It would be their home for the next several days, more if the current pulled against them. Gods willing, it might even serve as their lodgings for the return trip. She crossed to the window, gazing out at the sea.
Such a large world, she thought. And I’ve seen such a small part of it.
For one of the first times in her life, she resented the circumstances of her birth. Truly resented them, in a way that made her feel bitter and hard. There wasn’t anyone to blame, anger played no part. It was nothing more than a sharp pull of all the things life had denied her.
And the fact that she’d slipped into it, like pulling on her boots.
Had she ever expected to step aboard a ship? Had she ever expected to see the ocean? No, she hadn’t. It would have been foolish to imagine such things from her distant village, warming herself with dreams as the water bucket sloshed over her dress. Even worse, she’d come to think it wasn’t her place. Girls like her didn’t leave the mountains. Girls like her would never be anything more.
She didn’t know when she’d started thinking it. For a moment, she truly hated herself.
“I don’t know how you managed to pull this off, but I thank you for it.” Jesse dropped his satchel on one of the beds, bouncing it slightly to test the mattress. “Eden, this is like a dream.”
The fae turned to face him, nodding with a faint smile. “It certainly is,” he said softly.
There was something in his voice that caught her attention. Something that felt like a not-so-distant reflection of the same longing she was feeling herself.
There was a knock behind them.
A stately man stood in the open doorway, waves of slate-grey hair and a set of almost startling blue eyes. He didn’t wear a feathered hat or any of the things Kiera had been expecting, but a single look and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind. He was the person in charge.
“I trust everything is to your satisfaction?”
Eden acknowledged him with a polite nod before glancing back at the others.
“Give us a moment to speak,” he said quietly.
They nodded and watched as he returned to the captain with a smile—easing him back through the same door he’d just entered and a little further down the hall. Ignoring the chiding looks from the others, Kiera flitted to the doorway herself, wrapping her hands around the edges and watching unnoticed from the frame.
In the narrowness of the corridor, they looked absurdly proportioned—like two dolls a child had shoved somewhere ill-fitting to play. She couldn’t really hear what they were saying. From the way the fae had taken him away from the others and angled his back to the door, she guessed that was the general idea. But she was surprised to hear the captain speaking fae. They spoke a short while, mostly Eden. The captain nodded silently, then nodded again. He left a few moments later, clapping the fae on the arm. By the time Eden turned around, she’d already melted into the room.
“The course is settled,” he announced without further context. The morning’s excitement had left him, and he looked tired and drained. “It’s less than a week to cross the sea. Even faster, if the winds are with us. The ship is ours to wander as we please.”
The others shook their heads in amazement. It felt like too much. It was too much. She took a step forward, arms folded tight across her chest. “All this...because the man owed you a favor?”
Eden hesitated, considering his reply.
He’d walked the earth for centuries and had no trouble keeping secrets, but he didn’t like to openly lie to his friends. He liked it even less, when they were standing right in front of him.
“I was the one who called in a favor,” he admitted, staring a hole into the floor. “I used a name I haven’t spoken in many years. I cannot do it a second time.”
She stared up at him, feeling abruptly protective. There was something about the droop of his shoulders. The way he seemed incapable of lifting his eyes. On a sudden impulse, she crammed her hand into her pocket, reaching for the dwarven stone. She held it between them.
“There won’t be a need,” she said simply. “We have this.”
His lips parted in confusion as he stared at the emerald. It looked even bigger than she remembered, shining in the palm of her hand. The others pushed quickly to their feet and gathered around to see it for themselves. Jesse actually picked it up, his face going suddenly pale.
“Kiera...tell me you didn’t steal this from the mine.”
In a flash, she remembered their time in the underground caverns—where the rubies were big as apples, and the flames of the roaring bonfires licked greedily up the walls. In such a place, this was a mere pebble. It would have been easy to slip into a pocket, claim it was a mistake.
She lifted her eyebrows, fighting back a smile. “Really?”
He flushed. “...just making sure.”
“Where did you get it?” Evander pressed, staring not at the stone but into her eyes. The vampire had always been less distractible than the others, cutting straight to the core.
She let them hang a moment, then shrugged. “Olin gave it to me.”
If it was possible, this was met with an even greater reaction. Jesse let out a whoop, before covering his face with peals of laughter. Evander simply shook his head, brimming with a smile.
Eden had settled on something a little harder to define.
He was relieved they’d be able to pay for return passage—relieved in ways the others would never understand. He was flat-out stunned that the dwarf would do such a thing, and there was even a small part of him that was secretly touched. But he was a child of the stars, soaked to the bone.
And children of the stars never made things easy.
“Well, that is just...that is so...calculating of him.”
She glared back at him, stuffing the gem into her pocket. “I’m going to drown you in the sea.”
THE DAYS PASSED SWIFTLY after that, each one blending into the next.
It was almost impossible to differentiate between them. The sea was calm, and life aboard the ship was a steady repetition. Unless one marked them down, it would be easy to lose track.
Some days, they took meals with the men. Some days, they kept to their room. Most of their time was spent on the top deck, staring at the ocean and wandering the length of the ship. In what would later be described as a rather predictable turn of events, Kiera had taken to standing in the tiny triangle of space right at the ship’s prow, burning her eyes on the far-off sun.
