The Guild of the Cowry Catchers, Book 1: Embers, Deluxe Illustrated Edition (18 page)

“Thessalyn?” asked Gerard innocently.

Silveo scowled. “You know what I mean. Keep
it out of my sight and I’ll try not to shoot it.”

Gerard sighed. “Would it matter if he
apologized?”

“What do you think?”

“He saved the ship last night.”

“
You
saved the ship last night,” said
Silveo and stalked out the door.

An eighth watch later, Gerard was standing
with Silveo and Farell on the quarterdeck, holding three maps.
“Well, you’re right that none of them are very good,” he told
Silveo. “It depends on where you want to go which you should
use.”

“We need a port,” said Silveo. “We couldn’t
keep up with the leak last night, and all the slaves drowned. We’ve
got no rowers and not enough spars left to hold up a decent set of
sails.”

Gerard winced. Normally he tried not to think
about the slaves, because there was nothing he could do about them.
“Did no one think of letting them out?”

“What, so they could kill us all?” asked
Silveo. “Besides we were too busy trying to get over that reef. No
one even knew they were underwater until they were dead. I’ll be
happy to give you an oar if you want to do penance.”

Gerard decided it was too late to have this
argument. “I suggest Malabar as a port.” He spread a vellum map in
his hands and pointed to one spot. “This one shows the area of our
location fairly accurately.”

Silveo studied it. “Looks to me like we’re
just as close to Holovarus as Malabar.”

“Perhaps.” Gerard had been hoping he wouldn’t
notice.

Silveo grinned up at him. “You want to lie,
but you just can’t, can you?”

“I repeat,” said Gerard. “I think we should
go to Malabar. I do not want to go to Holovarus.”

“I know,” said Silveo. “That’s probably why I
do.”

Gerard’s tail lashed. He wanted to say a lot
of things and didn’t know how to phrase them. “Silveo, please.”

Silveo’s pale eyes glittered through his
kohl. “Oh, we are definitely going. Now stop looking wretched and
make yourself useful. As long as that creature is here, you might
as well use it to fly over to Malabar and get us some decent food.
Everything in the hold is wet, and nearly all the jars are broken.
I spent enough of my life eating bad food; I refuse to do it aboard
my own ship. Be a good guide, Gerard, and go find us some local
cuisine.”

Chapter 23. A Debate about
Choices

Wyverns are poisonous. Curiously, first
exposure causes only mild illness, while a second bite is nearly
always fatal. A few old stories make reference to an antidote, but
if such ever existed, its source has been carefully expunged from
all records by the wyverns and their servants.

—Gwain,
The Truth About Wyverns

Gerard left a quarter watch
later. He had been wanting some time alone with Alsair, and this
seemed as good an opportunity as any. Before he left, he took stock
of his meager followers. Apparently, the oldest of his wardens had
been swept overboard in the storm. No one was sure how or when.
Three shelts from the
Fang
had vanished, two of them experienced sailors, so
the loss of his ancient warden was no surprise, but it did make
Gerard feel guilty.

I should never have brought
them. Silveo was right; I should retire them all.
The drunk was turning out to be a very
unsatisfactory sailor, and the youngster was hurt so badly that he
wouldn’t be able to use his arm for a red month. Marlo, on the
other hand, appeared to be thriving. He had no expertise on ships,
but he had learned quickly and he was amiable enough to make the
sailors like him. Gerard intended to make him his permanent
secretary as soon as he had anything worth keeping track
of.

Alsair said very little as they left the
ship. He was wearing a light harness that Gerard had made out of
rope. When they passed the little knoll that was Malabar-3, Gerard
told him to stop. Alsair circled reluctantly. “Why? There’s nothing
down there.”

“I want to talk to
you.”
I don’t want anyone else around, and
I want to be able to look you in the face.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” said Alsair. “I
won’t do it again. Can we forget about it?”

“No,” said Gerard. “Please land.”

Sea grass was whipping in
the salt breeze. Fluffy clouds raced overhead. It was a day like
Gerard remembered from his childhood—the kind of day he’d spent
exploring these little islands with Alsair. Gerard got down and
walked around in front of the griffin.
“Alsair, how could
you?”

Alsair met his eyes with a hint of defiance.
He didn’t look sorry, only sullen. “How could I catch a street
brat? Easier than catching rabbits, actually.”

Gerard couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“He was a
child,
Alsair!”

“Things like
that
turn into things
like
him,
Gerard.”

“Only when they have encounters with things
like
you!”
Gerard fairly bellowed.

“I wish I’d saved the tail,” said Alsair
nastily.

Gerard cuffed his ear. “Are you even
listening to me? I find your behavior horrific and
unacceptable!”

“I’m not an extension of you!” shot Alsair.
He was actually bristling now and nearly screaming. “I’m not bound
by your honor, Gerard!”

Gerard stepped back. “I should never have
brought you from Holovarus. I wonder if father would take you
back.”

“Silveo is still saying he intends to kill
you, isn’t he?” snarled Alsair. “Has he retracted that threat? Tell
me he has, Gerard, and I’ll take back everything I just said. I’ll
apologize in public.”

Gerard said nothing.

“No,” said Alsair, “he hasn’t. He’s told you
over and over again that he’s going to stab you in the back. If you
don’t believe me, believe him! I have never scrupled to kill for
you, Gerard, but I will not stand by and watch you die. Please—”
His voice broke. “You are too trusting. You and Thessalyn both—you
think any shelt can be made into a friend and ally. It’s just not
true.”

Gerard shut his eyes. “Alsair—”

“I won’t go back to Holovarus! I belong with
you, Gerard. I belong
to
you. Either forgive me or kill me.
You’ll never stop me from following you, and I won’t stop trying to
protect you.”

Gerard could feel tears stinging his eyes. He
pulled Alsair towards him and cradled the griffin’s head in his
arms.
What am I going to do with you?
“I forgive you. I
already forgave you. It’s just—”
He was not
satisfied, but he didn’t know what else to say. They stood like
that for a long time, and Gerard thought of all the days that he’d
spent on these islands with this friend.
He and I were closer than Jaleel and I ever could
be.

At last, he let go. “Will you trust me enough
to let me make my own decisions? Unless you see me in actual
physical danger?”

“I’ll try,” whispered Alsair. They lay in the
sea grass for a while and watched the clouds. Then they flew on to
Malabar.

Silveo had not overstated
the damage to the
Fang
. They were limping so badly that it took three days to make
what should have been a half day journey to Holovarus. Thessalyn
sat on deck every evening and played her harp in the sweet, clear
air, and they feasted on indigo duck and jackfruit and plum wine
from the Small Kingdoms.

Gerard could not tell what Thessalyn thought
about returning to the place where she’d lost a baby. She was
quiet, and he did not press. Gerard wondered what would happen if
Thessalyn herself begged Silveo not to go to Holovarus. He almost
asked her to, but decided it wasn’t his business. Silveo talked to
Thessalyn often during meals and in the afternoons. If she wanted
to ask him such a thing, she would do it on her own.

Gerard didn’t know whether Silveo and Farell
had had a fight or whether Silveo had just gotten bored, but he’d
clearly taken up with one of the ship’s boys. Gerard came in on the
morning of the third day after the storm to discuss navigation of
the reef around Holovarus and caught the youngster slinking
out.

Silveo came out of his bedroom yawning, still
in his nightshirt. “Is he flavor of the month?” asked Gerard as the
door closed behind the boy.

“Mm-hm.”
Gerard frowned.

Silveo opened his coat closet—a huge affair
intended to hold much more than coats. He went in and started to
get dressed. “Did you have a point, or were you just making noise
to hear yourself echo?”

Gerard was lost for words. “He doesn’t have a
choice. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Silveo made an indignant huff. “Have you
noticed I’m a foxling? You think he can’t fend me off?”

“You’re his admiral,” said Gerard. “He’s got
to be all of fourteen, Silveo.”

Silveo stuck his head out of the closet
abruptly. “And I was all of six,” he spat. Gerard realized he’d
inadvertently crossed a line. Silveo stalked out of the closet
glaring. “He’s old enough to say yes, and I’m not hurting him.
Besides, you seem to be suffering from your perennial illusion that
I’m a nice person. I’m not! Now get over there and draw me some
reef lines.”

Gerard obeyed. Silveo still seemed miffed.
“How old was Thessalyn the first time you ‘got lost’ on a walk, oh
honorable one? How much choice do you think she had? You were her
boss’s eldest! You were her prince!”

Seventeen,
thought Gerard.
She was
seventeen, but that was different. I actually cared about her. I
gave up everything for her.
“I love Thess,” said Gerard aloud.
“She’s my friend. I think to you, sex and friendship are mutually
exclusive.”

Silveo’s ears flicked back. “Wyverns preserve
us,” he said with as much sarcasm as he could cram into a sentence.
“I’m all upside-down and backwards. Poor Silveo. Are you
volunteering to fix me, Gerard? No? Then shut up; I’m tired of this
conversation.”

Gerard mentioned the episode to Thessalyn
that night.

She nodded. “I don’t think sex means anything
at all to Silveo.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” muttered Gerard.

Thessalyn shook her head. “Not in the way you
think. I mean that to him, sex is just the price he has to pay
for…I’m not sure—comfort, security, reassurance. Silveo wants more
than anything to feel safe, and he
never
feels safe, Gerard.
I think the closest he comes is when he’s with us.”

That made Gerard laugh. “Thess, you see good
in everyone, even when it’s not there.”

“Not true. I just think it’s never too late
for anyone.”

“Doesn’t it bother you that he’s cruel to all
kinds of shelts?”

“Cruelty always bothers me, Gerard. Pain
always bothers me. I fix it whenever I can reach it.”

He stroked her head. “You’re better at
picking your battles than I am.”

“Comes of being blind and female,” she
said.

That made him think of something else.
“Thess, did you feel like you had a choice when you made love to me
the first time? Or when you married me?”

“Hmmm.” He could feel her frown against his
neck. “Did I have a choice? I suppose it would be easier to answer
that question if I hadn’t been madly in love with you.”

Her response didn’t make Gerard feel any
better. It occurred to him that Silveo and Thessalyn had both grown
up in the lower echelons of society—a place that was foreign to
him.

Thessalyn broke into his thoughts. “Silveo
doesn’t think anyone has any real choices—or not many, at least. He
thinks maybe shelts like you have a few choices, although he’s
skeptical.”

“But you don’t think that, do you?” persisted
Gerard. “I mean, I didn’t make you feel that way…did I?”

“You make me feel alive,” said Thessalyn,
hugging him tight. “You make me feel like I can fly, like I can
see, like I can walk on water. Please don’t be sorry for loving me,
Gerard.”

Chapter 24. Port
Holovarus

The so-called winged wolves of Maijha Minor
are not wolves, nor are they quadropedavia—creatures with four legs
and two wings. They are sometimes called blood bats, and this is
perhaps more accurate, as they do live exclusively on blood. The
creatures can grow nearly as tall as a shelt’s waist, and they have
a long fifth toe, which folds upwards when they are running along
the ground. A thick flap of skin connects this toe to a point near
their hips, forming a “wing.” Although they prefer to glide for
short distances, they are capable of true flight, via a
double-jointed shoulder that allows them to lock the wing in place.
They can speak, but have no shelts as far back as history and their
own legends record. They are shy and secretive and usually live in
large colonies in the cliffs of Maijha Minor.

—Gwain,
The Non-grishnards of
Wefrivain

They arrived in Port Holovarus on the fourth
morning after the storm. The little bay looked smaller than Gerard
remembered it—the castle, just visible on the hilltop, grayer. He
doubted that the port had ever seen a ship the size of the
Fang.
Peasants in their fishing boats stood to gawk as
Farell maneuvered in around the reef. Gerard knew almost all of
them. He doubted he could avoid being recognized, so he didn’t
try.

They anchored well out from the shallow edges
of the bay and waited. Several of the fishing boats came up
cautiously to learn the identity of their visitor. It didn’t take
long for an official sloop to put off from the pier and come
gliding over the water towards them. Gerard could feel a knot in
his belly. He’d never wanted to come back here. He glanced at
Silveo up on the quarterdeck.
This is a fine way to repay me for
saving the ship!

The knot in his belly turned to ice when he
saw the first shelt over the side.
Jaleel.