Now with zero trans-fail...
Eight
The next morning, Wolf climbed off the cot he had been sleeping on, wincing as his bed-warmed feet touched the cold, hard floor of Alger's back room. He pulled on his socks and boots, and then strode towards the door. As he went, he glanced over to where Zan and Kiara were sleeping. Unsurprisingly, Zan was still firmly entrenched in sleep.
Kiara sat up as she noticed Wolf's gaze, and then climbed out of bed. After donning her own footwear, she walked over to him, her wings spreading timidly out from behind her. "Morning, Wolf."
"Morning," Wolf replied as they both walked through the doorway and towards Alger's kitchen. "Feeling better?"
Kiara rolled her eyes as they entered the kitchen, where Osrik and Alger were already sitting at a round wooden table, arguing over breakfast.
Kiara's wings stiffened. "I keep telling everyone, I'm fine. There's no need for all this fuss over me."
Osrik looked up as they entered. "Sleep well, you two?"
Kiara nodded. "Yes. At first I was a bit worried about…well, everything, but I fell asleep pretty quickly."
Wolf shrugged. "I guess I can't complain."
"Good," Osrik said. "We should be able to get sailing before noon, barring any trouble."
Alger frowned. "As I was saying, heading to Triet by way of Linkite Harbor won't be pleasant, even if it is shorter. With the falling temperatures, you might well run into ice, and it'll be miserable at best."
Osrik shook his head. "I realize that, but heading back south might lead us to cross paths with the people hunting us."
Alger thought for a moment. "The Wave Cutter would have that problem, but another ship might allow you to stay incognito."
Osrik scowled. "There is no way I'll condone stealing another ship."
Alger held up a hand. "Of course not. But if you board a passenger ship, you could hide in plain sight, and it'd be much more comfortable than sub-zero waves washing across your open deck. I know a captain running trade-and-transport runs in Palmacosta. He owes me a favor, and although I don't like giving that up, I can't risk sheltering you all for much longer, and quite honestly, I can see that what you're doing is important, more so than a pleasure cruise, at least. It would be your best bet."
Osrik thought for a moment. "I suppose so, but it's still risky. Being on the passenger manifest could bring trouble, since we'd need identification to board."
"As I said, he owes me a favor. You could skip the manifest, and I could call it even with him."
Osrik frowned. "But how is he to know you sent us? If we were to bring a letter from you, he might think it forged, and we don't have time to send a message by any other means. Unless you'd be willing to part with your credentials?"
Alger laughed. "Not a ch—" He stopped as he realized Osrik was serious. "Wait, really? That would be…" Alger sighed. "Actually, it probably would work best, wouldn't it?" Osrik nodded and Alger sighed despairingly. "I'll get them for you. And I expect to get them back, as soon as possible, understand?" Alger stood up and left the room.
Osrik turned to Wolf and Kiara. "Get all your belongings packed. We'll be leaving soon." Osrik peered through the doorway behind them. "Zan's still sleeping?"
Kiara's wingtips twitched. "No, he decided to go skinny dipping around midnight, he should be back soon."
Osrik sighed. "We'd best wake him up, then."
Wolf grinned. "Right."
Osrik stood up and strode out of the room as Wolf followed and Kiara took the vacated seat.
The Equis doctor walked purposefully into the room, stopping by Zan's bed, then bellowed: "Rise and shine, young'n! Up and at 'em, boy!"
Zan sat bolt upright, slipping out of bed with a muffled clanging as he landed on his discarded armor. Again, he was up in a flash, saluting sleepily. "Fit for duty, sir! I'll—" Zan stopped, squinting. "Oh. Hi, Osrik."
Osrik nudged Zan's hauberk with his toe. "Good morning, Zan. Now, get all your things together. We need to leave."
Zan yawned, but said nothing as he gathered his belongings and put on his armor. Once he was finished, and Wolf had packed his bag, they returned to the kitchen.
Wolf handed Kiara's bag to her, having brought it from the room, and she thanked him as Alger handed several pieces of paper to Osrik.
"Here," Alger grumbled. "It turns out I still had a second set around from the last time this sort of thing came up. You remember, when you were—"
Osrik took the papers. "Yes, yes, I remember. Thank you." He tucked the papers into his bag, and then headed towards the door, followed by the others.
Before they went outside, Osrik turned to Kiara. "We can't have your wings lighting up the city streets like fireworks. You can't conceal them?"
Kiara shook her head. "I've tried, but no. I can fold them in pretty tightly. Just let me…" Kiara put her cloak on, tossing it over her wings, and then furling them as close to her body as she could. The only evidence that anything was odd was a barely perceptible bulge under her cloak, looking more like an extra sweater than anything out of the ordinary.
Osrik looked closely at it for a moment, and then gave a nod of approval. "That'll do." He and the young men donned their cloaks, picked up their bags, and walked out the door.
They exited Alger's office, onto the street, where a chilly morning wind made them all pull their cloaks more tightly around them. Alger stood just inside the door as Osrik shook his hand.
"Thank you for everything, Caleb. We'd have been in trouble without you."
Alger snorted. "Don't forget it. And be careful. All of you."
"We will, Dr. Alger," Kiara promised.
Alger smiled at her, and then closed the door.
The group made their way through the dawn-brightened,white streets towards the docks with little trouble, as there were few others out at the time. They soon reached the iWave Cutter/i and boarded, Osrik striding towards the helm.
"Wolf, Zan; get those lines untied and shove us off."
They obeyed, casting off the lines and pushing the boat away from the dock. Osrik put his hands on the wheel as they drifted into the harbor. "Get ready to hoist the sail, you two, in just a…" Osrik trailed off, noticing something to one side of the helm. "What is…" He bent down out of sight, and Wolf, Zan and Kiara exchanged glances. In a moment, the doctor straightened, a broad grin on his bearded face and a piece of parchment in his hand. "Well, well.'Captain Aaron, we appreciate your timely arrival with our shipment, and have left your pay in the hold, with a bit of a bonus, knowing as we do the difficulty of the voyage in times such as these. Signed, Norwel and Sons.' Hmm."
Wolf opened the hatch that led to the small cargo hold below the steering deck and pulled a canvas envelope from just inside, handing it up to Osrik, who slid his cane sword out an inch and slit the envelope.
The doctor peered inside and chuckled. "Ha! I'm not used to luck being on imy/i side. This is good. There's enough gold here to ease our worries about surviving on the run. Good, indeed."
A smile slowly spread across Zan's face. "You mean we…"
Wolf laughed. "We stole a fully-loaded trade ship and brought it to the right port, a day early. I'd overheard this ship's cargo was due in late today, but I didn't know it was bound for Rengard."
The two young men burst out laughing as they began to hoist the sail, and the ship began to move towards Palmacosta.
The sea was relatively calm as they left Rengard behind, in comparison to their arrival. While the weather was still unusually cold, the temperature slowly rose as they sailed farther to the southewest, a change that all four welcomed. The time seemed to pass by more quickly than it had during the storm, though the progress of the sun across the sky was evidence of the longer voyage.
The Wave Cutter glided into Palmacosta harbor shortly after dawn, three days after they had set sail from Rengard. Osrik guided the ship to one of the smaller docks and spoke to the dockmaster while Wolf, Zan, and Kiara dropped anchor and secured the lines. They joined Osrik as he handed over the day's docking fee, and then headed into the city.
As they left the forest of masts and loading scaffolds that was the marina, they caught their first close glimpse of the city itself.
Bright signs and banners hung over and between buildings in a marketplace similar to that of Equis, but much busier. People hurried between shops while conversations, slogans, and a multitude of marketplace smells filled the air.
"Impressive," Osrik remarked, "is it not? We'll have to be back at the docks by high-noon to catch our ship, but we have time, and we're going to need some supplies.
"Like food?" Zan asked hopefully.
Osrik laughed. "Yes, Zan. Of course. We'll make that our first order of business." Osrik began to lead them into the city. "Now, I shouldn't have to tell you this, but stay together. We shouldn't have to worry too much, but we should keep a low profile."
Wolf tapped Kiara on the shoulder. "And you should stay between us, so nobody notices your wings."
Osrik agreed. "Good thought, Wolf."
Heading into the city, they sought out a modestly priced bistro, and ate, relishing the simple, but delicious meal of bread and roast meat.
As they left, Osrik glanced around. "Now that that's done, what else do we need?"
Wolf thought for a moment, and then gestured to a blacksmith's shop, with a sign over the door bearing a knights helm. "After how our meeting with Celsius went, and considering the circumstances, I probably wouldn't mind having something more substantial between me and the next pointy thing to come my way."
Osrik considered. "You may be right. Zan is certainly well enough outfitted, but the rest of us could use better protection. We might consider it an investment in living." Wolf started towards the blacksmith's shop, but Zan held up a hand.
The guard sighed. "Have you actually even worn mail of any kind, Wolf, let alone done anything in it? It's heavier than it looks."
"Well, no, not really."
Osrik shook his head. "I have, and Zan's right. You and Kiara would be better off finding a leatherworker. Zan, go with them."
Zan looked confused. "What about you?"
"As I said, I've worn various sorts of armor in my time, and I know my capabilities. Now, make sure they shop practically, and meet me in the smithy when you're done."
Zan saluted. "No problem." With that, he led Wolf and Kiara deeper into the market district to find a suitable craftsman.
Within a few hours, Wolf had a fine, dark-brown-dyed leather cuirass and leggings, reinforced with steel strips at the chest, back, neck and shoulders. His short brown hair was still messy, but altogether, he cut an impressive figure, with his swords crossed at his back and his light blue eyes shone as Kiara looked at him.
Kiara wore a fitted shirt of boiled, off-white leather and a short, silk-lined leather skirt of the same color over a pair of sensible navy-blue leggings. In addition, she wore a dark-blue cloak over the armor, concealing her wings. Keeping the wings hidden had been a difficult feat, but Kiara's face hadn't betrayed a thing as she had explained the "ugly mark" on her back and begged that the leatherworker allow her friends to take the measurements in the back room.
After paying the leatherworker, the three headed back to the blacksmith's shop and entered, looking around for Osrik. Inside the dim, slightly smoky room, they saw only various metal implements hanging behind the counter, and an irritated-looking assistant carrying an armload of wood into the back room. The assistant grunted at them to follow him, and they did so, heading back to the forge room. Here, various newly-made tools, weapons, and armor hung on the walls and were stacked on workbenches, while another, well-worn set of tools hung from the belt of the muscular, middle-aged blacksmith, who was intent on his work. As they entered, the smith plunged what looked to be shaping up like a spade into a cooling bath and turned to face them.
"Welcome, welcome. You three are here with the doctor? He told me three people about your age would come by."
"That's us," Zan confirmed. "Where is he?"
"Ah, he'll be out in a minute. His armor's just about finished being painted and polished, so just wait here. My name's Tyrell, by the way. Is there anything I can do for you?" He took a step back and looked at their weapons and armor. "Hmm. That chainmail looks plenty passable. The skinnier one's swords look like fine quality, though not as fancy as most blades of that quality. As for you, young lady, I just put tips on a shipment of arrows, and the fletcher won't mind if I sell them in his place, so long as he gets paid in full. We have an agreement saying as much."
Kiara shrugged and peered into her quiver. "That would be good. Maybe a dozen, to fill it up?"
Tyrell eyed her quiver. "Fifteen more should fit, if you want. I put narrower piercing points on these."
Kiara nodded. "Fifteen, then."
Tyrell clapped his hands together and crossed to a stack of arrows, counting them out and returning. "It's a gold Arbir for three."
Kiara pulled out the money Osrik had given them, thanking Tyrell, and handed over the five gold coins, each with a tree emblem and crossed sword and rose on its two faces. As she did, Osrik poked his head into the room.
"It's dry now," Osrik began, "and it's good work, I must say. Oh, hello, you three."
Osrik stepped into the forge room, wearing a metallic-white breastplate and short chausses of small-linked chain. His white goatee was trimmed shorter, and his gray-streaked brown hair sat above a leather band. "Hmm. You chose well, Wolf, Kiara." Osrik brought out his moneybag to pay Tyrell, but Wolf stepped forward.
"Wait," Wolf said. "Have you got any small daggers, throwing-weighted?"
Tyrell nodded. "Only a few and it's not an art I have mastered, but here." He brought out two small knives and handed them to Wolf. Osrik and Wolf then thanked the smith, Osrik paid him, and they all left the shop and headed for the docks.
Osrik took out the papers Alger had given him and squinted at a note in one margin. "It seems we're looking for the Diamond Ace.
Wolf scanned the ships as they walked along the docks, stopping as he caught sight of the ship Osrik had mentioned. "That's the one? The Diamond Ace?"
The ship was huge, with several masts, a multitude of sails, and several rows of portholes that evidenced multiple levels below the wide deck.
Osrik checked the papers again. "That's the one. Let me do the talking." He led them over to where a set of stairs in the dock ascended to a door high in the side of the ship, and leaned towards the man taking tickets. "Excuse me, might I speak to the captain?"
The ticket collector turned towards Osrik. "If you don't have a ticket…"
A voice came from behind the collector. "Never mind that, I'm here." A mustachioed man approaching from up the docks walked up to Osrik. "What can I do for you, sir?"
Osrik put out a hand. "I haven't seen you in years, Thom. It's me, Caleb Alger."
Captain Thom sighed. "Now that I think about it, you do look familiar. Not like Caleb, though… Osrik, you trickst—"
Osrik leaned forward and held up a hand. "Quiet! Yes, I'm Osrik, but I can't have my name or that of any of these young people put on the passenger list. We need passage to Izoold, and we need it kept quiet."
Thom frowned. "I can't legally do that."
"I know. That's why Alger's calling in that favor you owe him." Osrik showed Alger's credentials and a note in Alger's handwriting explaining the favor.
Thom let out another weary sigh. "Fine. Consider it done. Go on aboard, we'll be leaving in a few minutes."
They hurried up the boarding stairs and onto the ship, where they immediately headed for a relatively empty area of gunwale on the open deck, near the stern on the side away from the dock, settling in by the rail as the bell rang to signal the ship pulling away from the dock.
As they stood there, a young man with curly hair walked over to them. "Well, hello there," he said to nobody in particular, though he was looking only at Kiara. "You're heading to Izoold?"
Kiara's lips twitched. "As much as anyone here is."
The young man laughed. "Too true! I'm actually from near there, myself. I'm on an important trip. I had to bring contracts to Palmcosta, from the leaders of my village. It's pretty—"
Wolf interrupted, irritated. "That's really something. You should go tell everyone else."
The young man looked annoyed, but ignored Wolf. "So, you want to go somewhere quieter, miss…
"Elle," Kiara said.
"A pleasure," The young man replied taking her hand with a haughty half-bow. "I am Stephen Bigem, by the way."
Wolf scowled at him and took a step forward. "She's with us, thank you. Goodbye."
Stephen now turned towards Wolf, angrily. "How about you let her answer?" He reached out to touch her on the shoulder, and as he did, her wings recoiled involuntarily, lifting her cloak and giving the man a glimpse of the glowing, segmented shapes. He reflexively let go of her shoulder and stepped back quickly, tripping over Osrik's obligingly presented cane and tumbling over the railing. There was a splash from below, and Wolf looked over the side, grinning gleefully as he saw a passing boat hauling him out of the water.
"A shame," Osrik remarked. "He seemed like such a nice boy."
"Serves him right, that pompous windbag," Wolf muttered.
"Subtle," Osrik replied.
Kiara looked at Osrik nervously. "Did I mess up, there? What if he tells people?"
Osrik shook his head. "Don't worry. Nobody would believe him, and we'll be long gone soon enough. For now, we can rest easy."
Kiara relaxed slightly. "Until we get to Izoold, at least."
Osrik shrugged. "That's time enough for me."
With that, they headed belowdecks to avoid the oddly chilly air blowing in from the north.
Before they reached the bottom of the first staircase, however, Kiara tugged on Wolf's Sleeve. "Um, hey, Wolf? Want to see the city one last time?"
Wolf stopped, and turned to her, smiling. "Sure."
"Stay out of trouble," said Osrik's voice from around the corner, as he and Zan continued to descend.
Wolf followed Kiara back up the stairs and over to the rear gunwale. They watched as the vast city of Palmacosta began to shrink in the ship's wake. There were few other people near them, mostly crewmen, as the other passengers were down below, escaping the cold.
After a short silence, Wolf sighed. "Elle?"
Kiara laughed. "It was my grandmother's name. I never really knew her, but, for some reason, that's what came to mind."
"Oh," Wolf said, his tone growing softer. "Sorry."
"It's all right," she replied, staring at the ocean. "You didn't know."
Wolf couldn't help but feel awkward in the silence. He was surprised that she had never mentioned her family much—not that he had really mentioned his either. But there was one question on his mind that had been bothering him ever since she collapsed outside the Temple of Ice.
He looked behind them at the helm to make sure no one was in earshot. "Kiara."
Her gaze wavered from the ocean and met his, her long, dark hair blowing in the salty wind.
Wolf wanted to ask her, but buckled under the pressure of her blue-eyed stare. "I, uhh—is your armor getting uncomfortable?"
She looked slightly confused. "Y—yeah. Come to think of it, I'm actually getting really tired. I just didn't get enough sleep on the way to Palmacosta and..."
"Oh, okay," Wolf said in a somewhat forced happy tone. "It sounds like a good idea."
She began walking toward the stairs, before turning around. "What about you?"
"Oh, don't worry about me," he said awkwardly. "I'll just sit up here for a while."
"Okay," she replied as she continued walking.
Wolf watched her until she disappeared belowdecks. He wanted to kick himself. Turning back to the ocean, he thought about what he said.
Idiot, he called himself. Way to remind her of of her dead grandmother. Oh, and 'is your armor getting uncomfortable?' Smooth.
Wolf stared into the distance, at the now-tiny speck that was Palmacosta, trapped inside his own nightmarish thoughts until there was nothing left on the horizon, but ocean.
