So many reviews! Wow! MP, I didn't know Zev meant 'wolf' in Hebrew; although, the Zev-Judith fairy tale, from which I borrowed the names, is Jewish—'wolf' suits him, I think. :D Black Knight 03, I shall definitely have to see what Gordo has to say...I'm not entirely sure what he's been up to these past few chapters! Kay, wow, thank you...I hope you like this chapter, too. :) Awesome, Lara783, if I'm dragging you into fantasy, I'm doing something right. There's always a slight chance you'll stay and wander around for a bit. ;) Mandy, thank you so much—that's exactly what I hope happens whenever someone picks up this story; as for 'old-fashioned,' no worries...I'm an old-fashioned girl. :D Caz, behold! Thy chapter long-wished-for has arrived! swim6516, contributing to homework-distraction is one of the best parts of this job. ;) PaLM TRee 101, thank you so very, very much; I don't think there's much better than hearing 'enchanting,' 'exquisite,' and 'beautifully' all describing my writing! Elise Foster, here's the next chapter...I hope it continues to shine in all those aspects (please, please, please). Don't worry, dreamer, this ditty will absolutely get finished. That's the trouble with sea voyages, Mystique, what can you do while they're in progress, but think and wish for Gordo? But I'm glad you enjoyed the scenery...especially the moon snippet, which I pray comes even a bit close to the real spring twilight over the Penzance promenade. And, Lil', we certainly don't want you to go insane...to that end, I intend to update once/2 weeks...Thursdays or Fridays, if I can swing it. :D
Chapter 18: Reunion
Cale Aloway, the ship's surgeon—and sometime musician—extended a callused, long-fingered hand over the bow rail. "There," he announced with great satisfaction. "That, Miss Lizzie, is Jagur."
The Amana had just rounded the blunt point of Abira, one of the larger Nai Islands. Beyond the curving island shore, past a break of brilliant ocean, lay a jet and emerald rope of land. Jagur. From this distance, it looked much like all the other Nai Islands they'd passed: fecund, the bent, arthritic ridges of the island's spine soothed and softened beneath heavy, rich, verdant growth. The ocean—clear, clear water striated jade, turquoise, teal, and azure—beat against high, black cliffs or lapped at salt-and-pepper beaches.
"Just as the captain predicted," Aloway continued, hand dropping to the rail. "We've yet to swing 'round t'the other side of the island, but as we make Aderet Harbor the sun should be falling into late evening."
"Exactly as Zev said," Lizzie nodded, smiling.
Aloway smiled back. "Exactly."
"So, Aderet tonight, where the Amana will drop anchor—"
"Dock, actually," the surgeon corrected. "The harbor's deep enough to dock."
"Dock, then," Lizzie said. "The Amana will dock, presumably for the night, but what then? I leave, of course, but will you all sail off tomorrow morning?"
Aloway frowned, ruffled a hand through pale, flyaway hair, then dropped it to pinch the bridge of his long, hooked nose; it was a gesture Lizzie, in one day's company with the man, had already come to recognize as a signal of deep thought. "Mmm-maybe," the surgeon hummed. "We don't stand in need of provisions, but 'tis possible the captain will want to shuffle around for a commission. Did he mention anything about his intent this morning?"
"No." After a good night's rest, Lizzie had awakened early enough to breakfast with Zev, but what little conversation they'd shared had centered around the captain's expectations for the day. After again asserting that they'd reach Aderet Harbor before dusk, he'd explained he'd be unavailable to keep her company on deck—too busy being the captain—and advised her to use the time to consider his words of the night before.
Lizzie had, of course, immediately spent the next many hours speaking with anyone and everyone within earshot of the bow. As an avoidance tactic, it worked pretty well, especially after Cale Aloway had joined her and began expounding on the history, climate, trade, politics, and culture of the Nai Islands. The surgeon would have made an excellent teacher.
"So, 'tis possible we may stay a few days," he was saying. "Once we've docked, Captain Zev should be free an you want to ask him yourself."
"I'll do that," Lizzie smiled. "Thank you."
"Pleasure," Aloway dipped his head.
Silence fell between them as Lizzie again examined the nearing island. Almost to Jagur. And then only a little time until they reached Aderet. And then all she had to do was find the island's king and she'd be one step closer to home. All you have to do, McGuire? Lizzie almost laughed. You are spoiled, Elizabeth McGuire. Hobnobbing with several princes, a handful of princesses, a queen, and a king has apparently blinded you to the possible difficulties in gaining access to this king.
After all, her other encounters with royalty had occurred more or less in the middle of nowhere, not in a city like Aderet...or even a village like Eliston. It was entirely possible she'd have to wait several days—even weeks—before she was granted an audience with the King of Jagur. And what, exactly, was she going to do while she waited? She didn't even have currency for food or lodgings.
Wonderful.
Turning to Aloway, she asked, "Do you know anything about the King of Jagur?"
"Hmm?" he started, pale blue eyes swinging round to meet hers. "Jagur's king?" Lizzie nodded. "I've not heard much of him, but I do know he's only lately taken up the crown. It was a rather peculiar case, as I recall, for the man was not of royal blood, let alone of Nai Island royalty, when he became king."
So it might be possible to appeal to his more... common... background. Perhaps if she presented her situation as urgent enough, she might get in to see the guy without dealing with the bubble universe version of Take A Number.
"For all that," Aloway went on, "he seems to be doing a fine job. That is, I've not heard much, but what I have heard has not been in the way of grievances."
"I see." There were a hundred other Jagur-questions she could probably ask the ship's surgeon, but none of them seemed likely to help her come to any conclusions on how to gain access to the island's king. Sighing, Lizzie resigned herself to puzzling over the issue all by herself and settled to silently watching as the island drew nearer and, eventually, swept past on the larboard side. When at last the Amana docked, it was all Lizzie could do not to groan in relief. If nothing else, Aderet Harbor provided some much-needed distraction.
And distracting it definitely was. Instead of standing inside a sheltering crescent of land, like Eliston's harbor, it speared in several long quays from a rippling succession of ragged, black cliffs. Where the quays met land, wide stone roads took the place of soaring, sea-weathered rock, but those roads soon rose as well, swiftly lost to sight behind another towering ridge of rock. Somewhere beyond that ridge must lie Aderet's city, people...king.
"Ready to disembark?" came Zev's voice behind her. Lizzie swung a dubious frown his way, and the captain laughed. "Not very welcoming, is it?" he agreed. "It's an old fortification, as Mr. Aloway might have explained, not only from invaders but from the occasional rough seas the winds bring. Here, sheltered behind the Inon Island—" he gestured past the harbor to a nearby dab of land, "—the winds are rarely bad, but the islanders have had enough experience with the vagaries of the Nai Island winds not to trust their fortune too far." He extended his arm. "The city and the people are far friendlier than their harbor appears, believe me. Shall we?"
Lizzie, with one last look at the forbidding wall of dark cliffs, shrugged and looped her hand inside the captain's elbow. "Certainly."
"Said all your farewells?" he asked her as they walked across the gangway to the quay.
"As many as I could," she smiled, remembering earlier that afternoon as nearly every one of the crew came to share a few words and, "if'n I don't see you, bid y'fair journey." "Nearly everyone except you, of course."
"And you'll have to wait to say farewell to me, I'm afraid. Though I'd planned to leave as soon as I'd delivered myself of the journey's 'precious cargo,'" he smirked, "you and Seth together have convinced me to stay a time, perhaps look around the city."
"Ah," Lizzie nodded, "Judith."
One eyebrow winged up over a twinkling green eye. "I see you were listening last night. I wondered, you know, as you didn't seem at all inclined to listen this morning. I believe I cautioned you to ponder my wisdom, not seek that of every other crew member with a moment to spare. Poor Mr. Aloway. I fear in your hours of conversation, you've dragged the last morsel and mite of learning from his mind. He probably can't even recall how to set a broken finger. You've turned my surgeon quite useless. I am afraid I shall have to demand recompense." That same eye winked, but knowing he was teasing didn't soothe the heat from her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled to her toes as they stepped from the rougher rock quay onto the smooth, wide slabs of stone road.
"And I should say I'm sorry for calling your guilt into play," Zev murmured back, leaning close, "but the truth is I'm not. Sorry, that is. Perhaps a touch of guilt will compel you to consider your situation. It is a serious one, I think. But, then," a self-deprecating chuckle, "having devoted years of my life to a similar cause, I should be absurd indeed to say otherwise."
Lizzie looked up, squeezed the arm beneath her hand. "No. You're right. It is serious. And important. That just makes it harder to deal with. But I promise I will think about what you've said—and more, I'll act on it, I swear. Just not yet—"
"O-ho!" the captain scoffed under his breath. "'Not yet.'"
"No, not yet," she insisted, blushing, fiercely uncomfortable. "Listen, Zev, coward though I am, I'm not saying that for me, okay? I promised to help you look for Mi—Judith. So why don't we work on that before you chuck me kicking and screaming into the black, bottomless pit of my own terror! Can we do that?" Calves and lungs protesting as she strained ahead on the steep path, Lizzie couldn't quite bring herself to relinquish Zev's supporting arm. But she wanted to. Oh, she definitely wanted to.
A moment later, that arm stopped suddenly, halting Lizzie in mid-step. Swinging around with a startled grunt, her eyes found grave urgency in his. "This time I am sorry," he said quietly. "I know you're not a coward. I shouldn't have said that."
"No," she agreed.
"I just—well, there's no excuse for it. And I am unutterably grateful for your offer to help me." His arm dropped from her grip only for his hand to catch hers in a brief clinch.
She shrugged. "S'okay, I guess."
A smile touched his mouth. "Good. Shall we walk on, then? And I'll describe my lady-love for you?" The arm came up; nodding, Lizzie again looped her hand around his elbow.
The rest of the breathless hike up the ridge was spent in discussing Judith. As far as Lizzie could tell, beneath the captain-prince's romantic flourishes and elaborate, enamored comparisons of hair to "raven's wings" or skin to "the sweet, fragrant softness of a zephyr," Judith was indeed Miranda.
Not surprising, but it did make Lizzie wonder whether the bubble universe provided some kind of prophecy as to her friends' futures. Am matched with Larry, Ethan with Maggie, and now Jon with Miranda. Even, in a way, she with Gordo. She'd just have to see whether Veruca ended up with some kind of Loyde look-alike. And would that mean Kate would eventually be married to one guy, in love with another? Or was it all meant to be more metaphorical...?
But in the next instant, all bubble-universe philosophical pondering was forgotten. They'd reached the top of the ridge, all Aderet spread below them.
It was as far away from the harbor's bleak greeting as possible. Gentle hills rolled down on three sides to meet the sheer rock face of the fourth, where a filmy sheet of jade water plunged to thunder in the valley. A flounce of prismatic, snowy lace frothed at the waterfall's hem, misting over the beginnings of a sinuous aquamarine stream. Black stone-paved streets wound in aimless curves over the hills to meet wide, black stone-paved market squares. And everywhere, perched on the hillsides, clustered about the river, deeply nestled in the island's rich greenery, were houses, the stone walls washed white or canary yellow, apricot or coral.
"And the King's palace, there," Zev whispered in her ear. Lizzie followed his pointing finger with wide eyes. Atop the cliff, some distance back from the edge, a rocky spike of an island stood in the midst of the river rushing over the falls. And on this island, made of the same black stone and distinguished only by a collection of straight, square edges, crouched a fortress, the narrow slits of its windows squinting out over the valley.
"How on earth am I supposed to get in there?" Lizzie blurted, all the charm and beauty of the city fading beneath the watchful glare of those windows.
"We'll figure something out," Zev said, "don't worry."
Lizzie snorted.
"If nothing else," Zev laughed, urging her forward, "I am a prince."
Oh. Yeah. She'd completely forgotten about that.
A smile curved into a grin. "Yes. You are. I love having friends in high places!" Giving a little joyous whoop of triumph—and ignoring the voice in the back of her head telling her what an idiot she'd been not remembering that crucial fact—she hurried down into the city. "Let's find your princess, Your Wonderful Highness."
"My what?"
Maybe they didn't use that address here. Oh, well. "Never mind. Just lead the way. We've got a lot of city to get through." And already the sun was sinking into the horizon. Dusk wasn't at all far off.
"We do," Zev agreed. "Perhaps we should have simply stayed aboard and waited to begin looking tomorrow morning, but I find myself impatient—"
"Understandably," Lizzie interjected.
"—and if we search perhaps a few squares tonight, that's a few squares less to worry over tomorrow."
"Absolutely." Not least because the sooner Zev found Judith, the sooner Lizzie could storm the castle and get on with this quest thingy. And the sooner I'll see Gordo.
For all her worries on what to do about him, there was no denying she missed him like crazy.
Setting that thought firmly aside—Judith, Lizzie, remember Judith—Lizzie turned her focus on the city around them. Almost immediately on starting down into Aderet, the streets were filled with people. Mostly dark-haired and dark-eyed, the shorter natives of the island were easy to spot. Although that should have made it easier for Lizzie to focus on all the non-natives, of which Miranda-Judith should be one, she couldn't quite manage to do so.
The foreigners, of varying height, shape, and coloring, were almost invariably garbed in sober blues, browns, greens, and greys. Amid these earthy colors, the Jagur islanders bloomed like so many tropical flowers. Gauzy drapes of fuchsia warred with a wide lemon sash, plum skirts belled beneath a sleeveless, tangerine robe, turquoise trousers flapped against a salmon tunic. Everything was airy, loose, light, and very, very vivid. It was nearly impossible to look away from the natives long enough to even note the existence of non-natives.
There were, however, a handful of islanders not dressed so brilliantly. Clothed in black, billowing tunic and trousers, curved swords hanging at their waists, wide, shield-like plates of metal secured from shoulder to elbow, their breastplates were all painted with the same black symbol: a single line, swooping up to a point then down again, only to curve back on itself in a kind of stylized ocean wave. Lizzie didn't need Zev to tell her these islanders were the city's guard.
"I can't believe how busy it is!" she shouted to Zev as they struggled through the loud, rapidly thickening throng. He threw her a quick, questioning glance before returning his attention to navigating the street. "I mean, it's almost dusk," she explained. "You'd think they'd be snug in their houses, eating or something. Not...out here."
"Well, in the city proper, they probably are," the captain nodded. "Here, in the quarter closest to the docks, their evenings are spent a little differently. This, to be perfectly correct, is known as Harbor Town. The city's true entrance is down there," he pointed further along the street, "around the curve of the hill. Harbor Town centers around the harbor's needs, which, in turn, means the merchants' needs, the ships' needs, and—at night—the sailors' needs." Seeing Zev's wink, Lizzie thought she could likely guess what those needs entailed.
"Ah," she said anyway, "Wine, women, and song?"
Zev laughed. "'Tis close enough, and a very tidy way to say it, I admit. I shall have to remember that: wine, women, and song." He laughed again.
"If that's so," Lizzie called, eyes scanning as many of the faces they passed as she could, "do you really think Mi-Judith would be here?"
Even over the raucous noise, Lizzie could hear the captain's sigh. "I dearly hope not. Especially not on this main thoroughfare, which caters almost entirely to sailors. But I suppose something might have happened to keep her from purchasing better quarters in the city. And if she is here, she's arrived by ship, so perhaps she thought it reasonable to stay near the harbor. Still, for all that, we shall start our search in Aderet, not Harbor Town. I will hope she has the best of accommodations until forced to believe otherwise."
They rounded a curve of street—a corresponding curve of hill on one side—and Zev slowed. "There," he said, gesturing with a tilt of his chin, "that gate is the main entrance to Aderet."
Lizzie obediently shifted her gaze forward. For a gate, it lacked all typical gate accoutrements. No swinging gate door, no walls, not even two posts from which to hang a nonexistent gate. Instead, the stone road simply widened into a square courtyard, a life-size statue of a boldly posed man at its center. That the courtyard was noticeably clearer than the street and inhabited by many more city guards was the only thing that marked it as being in any way significant.
"Not much of a gate," Lizzie drawled.
"No," Zev conceded, "but in all the years I've been here, Aderet has never needed anything more."
Dipping her head, "Well, then, lead on, intrepid sir. Let's see if we can't find this princess of yours." With a smile, Zev stepped up their pace, and Lizzie, her arm still looped in his, allowed him to guide her down the street as she perused each and every face nearby.
They had almost reached the statue at the center of the courtyard when Lizzie tripped over Zev. Tumbled in a sprawl of limbs—not all of them, she was certain, hers—and skirts and hair, it took several moments before she managed to right herself. Twitching her dress into place, yanking her hair out of her eyes, she turned to demand an explanation from her erstwhile escort.
Zev was kneeling on the black stone of the square, not a thread or a hair out of place, for all the world completely unaware of her existence. And he was crying.
Well, not crying, she amended, scrambling closer, but almost there. His eyes glittered in the failing light, tears nearly flooded over the lower lids, his jaw clenched, breath gusting with bare control through his flaring nostrils.
"What—?" she whispered, fingers wrapping around his fist. "Zev?"
But he didn't move, not a muscle, not an eyelash, his gaze fixed somewhere...above... Lizzie turned. The only thing there was that statue. Nothing special there, she frowned, just another islander in wide stone trousers and tunic, curved sword a counter to the stubborn jut of the figure's jaw.
Lizzie's eyes widened. That was a very familiar jaw. And, her eyes flitting, that was a very familiar mouth, not to mention that nose, and there was no mistaking those cheekbones...or ears...or eyes.
"Judith," she breathed. Her glance took in the stone hair pulled into a severe topknot, the stone circlet, set with stone gems, resting on a very familiar stone brow. Lizzie teetered to her feet. "Damn," she said, mostly to herself, "Who'd have thought the King of Jagur is really a Queen."
And then, things started happening very fast.
"Hey!" a shout from behind whirled her around. Every last one of the guards standing sentry in the courtyard was rushing at them. Instinctively, she backed away only to watch in horror as the guards surrounded the still-stunned Zev and hauled him to his feet.
"Hey!" it was Lizzie's turn to shout. "What are you doing?"
None of the guards answered. Instead, they began marching out of the square, Zev inside their steel-bristled circle, toward the center of the city. "What are you doing?" Lizzie yelled again, panic fast-rising in her chest. "Where are you taking him? He didn't do anything wrong! Zev!" She was screaming now, turning to the thin crowd around her. "Help me! Someone, help me!" But no one even looked at her; everyone just kept walking. "Zev!"
An answering shout. "Lizzie?" Oh, thank heaven, at least he wasn't in that stupor anymore.
"Zev!" she called again. Maybe he'd be able to fight his way out? Even as she thought it, she dismissed the possibility. Alone, even with his blunderbuss he wouldn't be able to win free of the ring of guards surrounding him.
But the shout this time sounded closer. "Lizzie! Lizzie, are you there?" Somehow, it didn't quite sound like Zev... "Lizzie, answer me!" It was very close now, and Lizzie, chest tight in mingled panic and hope, turned around and around, looking for that voice.
Across the courtyard, the crowd shifted, parted, but the man plunging through the breach wasn't Zev.
He was Gordo.
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end of chapter 18
Chapter Notes:
So this is the first real evil cliffhanger I've left you with. I couldn't help it. Honest. This really was where the chapter needed to end. Besides, what's a true WIP without at least one evil cliffhanger? I promise you'll have the next chapter on time. On my honor. No tomato throwing...please?