The ship's docking felt like it took an eternity to Makoto. Her head was pounding. Her mouth tasted of vomit. She'd drank up all of their water supply in an irrational need to clean out her mouth, but her stomach had just sent it back up all the same. Ren kept a vigil at the door to the ship's deck while Makoto sat in her spot against the steel plates and buried her face in her arms.
The ship had smoothed out, a mercy. Ren advised they were in the port. The wind was less, but the rain was still heavy. It would be a wet and unpleasant ride even if Makoto was in good shape.
"They're coming into dock," said Ren, offering the canteen. "I collected some rain where it was running down the ship. It's as clean as a bit of metal could be. Would you like some?"
"You're a genius," said Makoto, her mouth cotton. She would be willing to drink from a puddle at this point. Now that the ship wasn't rocking, she felt like she could keep the liquid down. She took careful sips and her gut rumbled aggressively as the water reached it, but she kept it down and felt marginally better after drinking most of the canteen.
Ren came inside and looked around the stairwell landing. Makoto followed his eyes and thought there was a good amount of blood around. That might become a problem.
They shared a glance.
"We should get out of here," said Ren.
"You could say it's mine?" said Makoto, who would rather stay near the fresh air for as long as possible.
"Not a chance," said Ren, tapping the side of his nose with a finger.
Oh, right. The crew was all dhampir and they would know intuitively that it wasn't a human woman's blood over the walls. Makoto staggered to her feet. She was hit with a powerful dizziness and staggered, Ren rushing over to catch her. Her vision spun slightly.
"Oh," said Makoto. "I might be a bit worse off than I thought."
Ren looked at her grimly, but didn't say anything. He picked her up, her legs dividing around his side, cradled her rump on his forearm and pressed her against him, and carried her like his child down the multiple flights of stairs to the level they had boarded on. Ren was quick enough that Makoto's stomach tried to rebel one final time, but she buried her face into Ren's neck and fought it down, the folds of his cloak providing a cool, soft cushion for her face.
Ren headed further into the interior of the ship. Makoto suspected that he didn't want them to be seen near the stairwell and be associated with it and the bloody walls near the top. Surely, someone would be passing through and upwards to do ship's deck things during the docking process.
Makoto felt Ren shiver suddenly, and then it hit her, too. It was the Reaper's aura. Lord Meier Link was in close proximity. Ren carried Makoto through one more doorway and there was a grimy line of windows which looked out over a vast dark space. After a moment of consideration, Makoto realized it was the hold, and the Reaper's carriage was likely parked just below them, awaiting the opening of the ship's doors
"Can he feel us in the same way?" said Makoto in a whisper.
"I don't think so," said Ren. "He could smell us, perhaps. But I doubt it. Not from this far away. If he could, then my Mother could, and I don't think she can. Unless she was lying all this time."
Ren pursed his lips and looked thoughtful. "Which is very possible."
Regardless, they settled down to wait, Makoto's headache ramping up in intensity. She felt the weight of a need to sleep upon her, but there was no way she was actually going to fall asleep. Maybe when they got off this ship and someplace at least somewhat secure. But that might be… days from now.
"How far is your home?" said Makoto.
"A full day's hard ride," said Ren. "To the border. About a half day after that."
Makoto couldn't help but wince. Great. She honestly didn't know how she was going to last that long on horseback, but she would have to.
"Makoto," said Ren seriously. "I have business in Edgetown. Jin's credentials might allow me to get my hands on some good stuff, and as you pointed out, I am my Mother's cat's paw. I'd rather not bring you there at all, but Mother's Rules don't allow me to pass this chance up."
Makoto blinked and cast back her memory. She vaguely remembered Ren talking about Rules he had to follow, but that was so long ago now. Regardless, she'd joined Ren on his mission to go back home. So it was entirely reasonable that he would need to pursue objectives even as she accompanied him. And in this case, it was going to delay a long and arduous ride into the island's interior.
With her pounding headache and exhausted thirst, Makoto was all for that- the supposed dangers of Edgetown be damned.
"I understand," said Makoto. "What are we going to do?"
Ren twirled his bangs for a moment. "There are a few places in town that target the more gentle and romantic types. Decent rooms, almost like a hotel. Very strong doors. Places you can seal yourself into and live some fantasy. They even have human food and drink for the customer's companions, though I doubt it's all that good."
Makoto thought that whatever it was, it would probably be better than hardtac biscuit and water, but it begged the question:
"Ren, how do you know about these places?"
Ren didn't bat an eye. "Edgetown is the trade capital of the island. If dhampir are cat's paws, as you put it, then would not the city of them be a good place to get information? I don't like the place, but I've been there plenty of times. Pawing around."
If there was more to it than that, Makoto was not of the inclination to pry at the moment. A secure place that didn't move under her feet. That was dry. That might even have a bed after nearly a week on the road. All of that sounded wonderful compared to a horse ride in the rain.
The cargo bay door shuddered loudly in the darkness, a loud metallic boom. Machinery whirled somewhere, screaming in effort as it forced open the metal expanse of the ship's hull, letting in the false daylight of Edgetown's lights into the black tomb of the hold. Makoto didn't have the energy or the inclination to get up and watch, but she heard the murmur of many voices and footsteps echoing. People were entering the hold from outside and there seemed a great deal more employees on this side of the water.
After a long time of quiet waiting, Makoto heard the familiar rhythmic sound of horseshoes. Then there was a rumbling noise. Ren peeked through the window and peered out.
"Meier Link's carriage is moving out," said Ren, "Let's go get the horse."
Ren helped her to her feet and plucked her into his arms again. Makoto was too exhausted to even think of objecting. He carried her through a few more passageways and another narrow stairwell and they entered the cargo hold just as the enormous black shape of Meier Link's four-horse carriage exited the ship. The colorful lights of the city reflected eerily on its gleaming surface. Makoto watched it pull out and turn away from the city as if declining the light's invitation to Edgetown, and it glided smoothly away into the darkness of the night.
It was a short walk to Ren's faithful mechanical horse, standing near a wall in the mindless obedience of inactive machinery. Ren effortlessly lifted Makoto onto the front of the saddle, hopped up behind her, and then trotted them out of the ship and into the cool drizzle of the night. Dhampir roamed all over, dozens of them, unloading lumber from the hold and doing whatever, Makoto didn't have time to pay them much attention, and they paid Ren and Makoto even less. Just a passenger and his new slave exiting the ferry. Presumably a common enough sight.
The bright lights of Edgetown glared down on them now in their garish rainbow. Makoto winced up at them as her headache pounded out an objection, but she wanted to see. The road immediately out of the port headed straight and direct into the heart of Edgetown's central street. Two massive lines of buildings on either side, each perhaps eight or ten stories tall, with those glaring rows of lights stuck on their outsides, stretching up almost as high as the buildings themselves. And above it all, the massive arched roof which protected the entire city block from direct rain and sun alike.
The lights were signs, Makoto realized. Some had bright pictures. Some seemed to have writing of some sort on them, but it was in some script or language that Makoto did not recognize and could not read. But there were other signs that Makoto could read, and she realized a few of the lights themselves were made from some sort of illuminated tubes that were bent into the shape of readable characters.
Brimming Goblet. Lacerations. The Hole. Ryu's Eat n' Fuck. The Fleshy Pillow. Red Satin. The Stockade. They went on and on, up and down both sides of the street. Though one particular portion of signage stood out to Makoto because it was dark and unlit. From the ambient light, Makoto could make out the name 'Thorn Palace Bar' on the dark sign.
All apparently business names, as far as Makoto could figure, and the last was the name of Madarame's snuff dungeon. Well, it seemed like it was closed now, so Makoto felt a little grim satisfaction at that. Her efforts back in Tock-Yo did matter in the wider scheme of the world. She'd apparently shut down one business of Edgetown. She winced against her headache and told herself that the rest were only a matter of time.
Ren led their horse upward and inward, the rain stopping as the enormous roof above them blocked out the sky. The relative quiet of the ocean and the port was giving way to the gradually growing murmur of a rambunctious crowd. Ahead of them on the upper portions of the road, roaming between the wall-like strips of buildings, hundreds of people walked to and fro in groups and pairs and alone.
"I would ask you not to look around too much," Ren said from behind her. "But I know you will. Just… you can't save anyone here, Makoto. Try to think of them as already dead."
Makoto was not inclined to think of anyone that way, but she also was not in the mood to argue a point of philosophy. Staying upright on the saddle was challenging enough right now. There might be a day she can save as many people she would want, but even she knew that tonight wasn't that moment. If Ren could get her in and out of this slave port alive and if she could learn something of value, maybe someday she could do something about everyone else.
At that moment, her eyes noticed something on the street below them. She leaned over to look at it as the horse passed. Makoto realized it was the corpse of a human woman, naked, eyes seemingly frozen open in terror. A large portion of her neck was missing. Makoto closed her eyes as her stomach boiled inside her again, threatening a return of her nausea. Obviously a dhampir victim, since the body had not become a ghoul.
She forced herself to look ahead. She quickly realized that first corpse was not the only human body lying around like litter. There were a few others strewn about on the street, the sidewalk, and flopped near bins. The pedestrians seemed to ignore them entirely. Makoto heard a piercing fearful scream. Her head turned towards an alleyway, but it was too dark to see down it. Again, no one but her seemed to pay the noise any heed.
Edgetown blurred together in a wet neon haze. Everything was either too dark to see or far too bright to look at. The medium between the two glared brightly with the reflection of the lights off wet pavement and steel, the distant roof not proof against the earlier blow of the passing storm. Strange music blared out of open doorways. Some of the windows had pictures of naked women. Some had live naked women wearing collars. Some others had humans, male and female, chained up on various strange devices. None of them seemed anything close to happy.
Male voices laughed and argued on all sides. The air smelled of stale bodies, despair, and death. Two dhampir passed on foot, making jokes with each other, a thin wraith of a human woman on one of their shoulders, dressed in nothing but rags. Then a man bumped into the side of the horse, hands grasping for Makoto's thigh. She saw the silvery gleam of a dhampir's eyes in a starving, bone-hollow face, then Ren kicked the man in the side of the head and he fell to the pavement and was left behind. Pedestrians notably moved a bit more out of the way of Ren's horse after that. Makoto looked behind and saw someone taking off the fallen man's boots.
Makoto's head thundered in protest. The lights were too much. The noise was too much. The smells were faint but cloying. Her mind warred with itself. Half of her wanting to see, the other part of her wanting to remain ignorant. In the end, Makoto could only clench her fists and her eyes tightly shut and just try to not scream at it all.
Ren stopped the horse, dismounted, and gently lifted her down into his arms. Makoto buried her face into Ren's neck again, seeking the soft coffee smell of his body to protect her from the smell of Edgetown. She was vaguely aware of Ren entering a building, carrying her up a few flights of stairs, haggling with someone and then there was a quiet hallway, a door that seemed heavy and metal, and a large, loud bolt sliding into place.
Makoto looked up briefly to see a facsimile of a hotel room. A bed shaped like a heart. Metal bars over a dark curtained window. Large mirrors on multiple walls and one on the ceiling above the bed for some reason. Who would want something like that?
But it was private. It was locked. It was quiet. It smelled mostly like old perfume. She buried her head back in Ren's neck and started sobbing. And she wasn't exactly sure why, only that everything about the universe seemed oppressively wrong.