We know where the city should be. Grim has been there. With the aid of the ring he saw it. We just have to find out how to bring it back."
"And where is my pay?”
"We think that the people of the city hid themselves before the Scourge to protect themselves from the Horrors. By hiding all memories of themselves, they were safe, but they might well need someone to bring them back. If we rescue them, there will most likely be a reward. We will give you a share of that."
The captain thought it over, then asked, "Why me? Why this ship?"
"This ship is safer than other places," said Releana, "safer even than other ships on the Serpent. We saw you turn away a magician with one eye on his hand earlier, and that man and his companions are searching for us and the ring. And I trust you."
J'role hadn't thought of that, but it made sense. Until they got off the boat, Mordom would not be able to find them. J'role then saw Nikronallia staring at him. As soon as their eyes met, the sailor turned his gaze away. J'role turned away too, frightened, for he knew something significant had just occurred, but he did not know what.
“Very well," said the captain. "An enemy of my enemy … And so on. Passage is granted.
We will not be going all the way to Throal, however. We are meeting another ship, the Chakara, in five days' time. They will have come from Throal, and will be sailing back there after a trade meeting between us and the dwarven envoys the Chakara is transporting. I will guarantee passage on the Chakara for you, and cover the cost to the Chakara's captain. This is my investment in your quest."
“Thank you, Captain Patrochian," Releana said with visible relief.
The captain raised her glass and said, "May we all find what we seek most." The others at the table followed suit, even Nikronallia, who now kept his gaze set on the table.
A dizziness came over J'role, and he realized it was a good thing the captain had granted them their passage, for he felt as though he couldn't move another three feet after stuffing himself with food. He stood, then cocked his head to one side and closed his eyes.
"Ah, yes," said the captain, and J'role opened his eyes. "Your appetites may have stuffed you all a bit too full." Voponis returned then, and the Captain said, "All is set. Please take them to a cabin. And get Ofreaus to visit them and tend their wounds. Though they were too polite to ask, they're all in need of some help."
Voponis nodded, and everyone got up to follow him. As the t'skrang closed the door to the captain's luxurious quarters behind them, he smiled and said, "I've already set up your quarters. I know the captain. She's a fine lady, generous, with a sense of business. I knew you'd be coming aboard even as I listened to you begin your tale." Neither of them answered, for drowsiness had overcome their senses. Voponis said, "Here, I'll get you to your rooms quick."
He led them through the maze of rooms and corridors that made up the ship. Every once in a while they caught glimpses out the windows of the rushing blue river and the green trees along the banks. The sun was bright in the late Noon, and the world sparkled with light reflecting off water and leaves. The world, J'role realized, was stuffed with beauty.
But it was easier to comprehend when viewed from a window frame, rather than when caught up in the middle of it, as in Blood Wood.
They passed other t'skrang, who casually glanced at them. The sailors walked with a swagger down the corridors, or sometimes leaped out the windows, grabbing ropes and swinging out of sight. Luckily, the ship had stairs for the non-sailors aboard, and the group ascended several decks. The sunlight became sparse as they moved away from the edge of the ship, then vanished, replaced by magical, burning stones set into sconces in the wall. The corridors began to remind J'role of the kaer; not as it had been when he was young, but in recent years: his father's refuge lit by torchlight.
Voponis opened a door and J'role saw his father, deep in a drunken sleep. He felt ill for a moment, but forced himself to relax, and the sensation passed.
"Here you are," said Voponis, indicating two empty bunks. Gracefully he extended a hand to Releana, and helped her up to the upper bunk. J'role collapsed into the one underneath. "If you need anything, just come and get us." He then left, closing the door behind him. The light in the room dimmed and J'role closed his eyes. The world rocked under him as he began to drift off, and he thought once more of the priestess who had held him in her arms when he was a boy. Then his thoughts turned to his mother.
"Don it tell anyone," he suddenly remembered her saying. Why had she said that? Not, Don't talk to anyone, which was a sound warning, but don't tell anyone. What wasn't he supposed to tell?
“Do you really want to know?" the creature asked.
The creature's glee disturbed J’role, and he thought, “No." Better not to know. To leave it all be.
The darkness and the rocking slowly swallowed him, and as J'role fell asleep he felt phantasmal fingers upon his chest, memories of the past come alive. Then came a dream.
.
22
The dreams. Fragments of the past, shaped into a language of sights and sounds only the unconscious could comprehend. The memories came now, but only because his awareness was safely shut off from the truths buried within. His mind coiled around the key question. What had happened between the arrival of the shadow in the corner of his room and the death of his mother? Somewhere between those two events was the moment of true terror.
J'role's thoughts searched and searched, but each time only found the void.
He woke, startled by the dank, wet smell of the ship. The gentle rocking. The darkness. It took him a moment to remember where he was. When he did, he also remembered how tired he'd been, and wanted to roll over and fall back asleep. But his body was alert now, and curious. Despite his wise desire for more rest, part of him wanted to be up and about.
After fruitlessly tossing and turning several times, he sat up, realized he was wide awake, and climbed out of the bunk. He stood a moment, his bare feet touching the wooden floor. Cold. Wet. Comfortable. He listened, hearing the breathing of his father and Releana. Then, echoing up through the wood of the ship, the rhythmic churning of the ship's paddle wheel. Beneath that, the slapping of water against the hull.
He realized his body did not hurt as much as before. A questor of Garlen had obviously arrived and tended their wounds. For that J'role was very grateful.
Standing in the cabin he had the strange sensation that he was watching over his father and Releana. It comforted him.
He indulged in the feeling for a moment, then left the room, closing the door behind him.
J'role wandered down the corridors, looking for Voponis, but found neither him nor any other t'skrang. After turning and twisting through the ship's warren-like structure for a while longer, he suddenly found himself outside. Night had fallen while he slept, and stars dotted the sky.
He stepped out onto a ledge running the length of the ship, a board no more than two feet wide. Below, the dark waters of the Serpent roiled away from the Breeton as the ship cut a path toward its meeting with the Chakara. The paddle wheel churned through the water with a clean, rhythmic swooshing, sending a spray of water back down into the river.
J'role began to walk carefully along the ledge toward the front of the ship.
A shadow suddenly rushed at him, and he pressed himself tight against the wall. "Good evening," a sailor said in dwarven, swinging by on a rope, his loose clothes flapping as he passed, the rapier at his side momentarily brilliant in the starlight.
J'role waited a moment, letting his breathing calm down, then sighed and continued on.
Soon he reached the bow of the Breeton, where the wide ship narrowed, though the ship's font was flat. Thick metal spikes and two wooden prongs fifteen feet long adorned the flat edge, and J'role thought they might be for the purpose of ramming other ships.