Wrath of the Blue Lady (11 page)

Knowing he wasn’t going to be able to sleep belowdecks, he grabbed his gear and went out onto the deck. It was the darkest hours before the dawn, the time when the world seemed its quietest. After hanging a hammock, Shang-Li sat there for a long time, then the familiar rocking of a ship under sail finally lulled him back to sleep.

Vibrations in the wooden floor of the crow’s-nest drew Shang-Li from the sketch he was working on. He’d summoned images from the dream and brought them to life on the paper, surprised at how much that effort had given new birth to the fear he’d felt the previous night. Even before he saw who climbed into the crow’s nest, his fighting sticks were in his hands.

Yugi, the young sailor that often occupied Swallow’s crow’s nest as lookout, hesitated as he hung onto the ratlines that ran to the top of the ship’s mainmast. Constant exposure to sun and salt air had given his black hair an orange sheen and his buttery skin baked pink every day until it looked like coals burned within his flesh. He held up one hand and grinned at Shang-Li.

“Easy. I just came up because the captain ordered me up here.” Yugi returned his hand to the ratlines. “We’re hoping to be within sight of the coast before long.”

Shang-Li put the sticks away and searched for the book he had been working in. The copy he had made of Farsiak’s journal sat beside him. The wooden case containing his writing implements sat atop it where he had left it. He pushed himself into a sitting position and folded his legs so that Yugi could enter the crow’s nest.

The young sailor leaned back nonchalantly against the edge of the crow’s nest. He scented the air like a hound.

“Storm’s coming.” He scowled. “It’ll probably catch up with us toward sundown.”

Shang-Li shaded his eyes against the westering sun and spotted the storm clouds rolling off in the distance. “Where are we?”

“Not far from the coast. Close to Urmlaspyr. The captain didn’t want to be caught out in the middle of the sea in case a big squall rose up, so we’ll hug the land for the next day or so. We’ll probably reach the coast in time to drop anchor for the night.”

That announcement probably hadn’t gone over well. Shang-Li knew his father was in a hurry to return to Westgate for supplies. At least the city wasn’t much farther. Weather and wind permitting, Swallow would reach her destination in three or four more days.

By that time, Shang-Li hoped to have a location in mind to search. Of course, Westgate offered difficulties of its own. Not to mention the menace of the Nine Golden Swords. He yawned creakily.

“Mayhap you should try sleepin’ at night,” Yugi said. “Take your nose out of that book for a while. That much readin’ can’t be good for you.”

“I haven’t been able to sleep.” Shang-Li rubbed his marked hand against his thigh. The blue stain hadn’t yet faded. During the last two nights, he’d revisited other sea

voyages he’d gone on in the past. In the Dragon’s Reach, he’d help find and salvage Tauric’s Cross, a merchanter that had gone down three hundred and forty years before. In the dream, the hold had been filled with writhing snake-things big enough to swallow a man whole.

Then there had been the time a storm had left Brass Lantern overturned. The captain and crew had worked four days to get her right side up again. They had never sunk as they had in the dream, and they had never been preyed upon by shambling creatures that struck quick as lightning.

And in all of those dreams, the Blue Lady had always put in an appearance to taunt him. Shang-Li scratched idly at the blue mark on his hand. He’d cut it with a knife, but only got blood out that morning, none of the blue discoloration.

Yugi smiled. “You’re not tired because you’re not working on this ship. A sailing man, he’s glad to hit his rack every night because he’s put in a full day’s work.”

Shang-Li ignored the jibe. He reached into the cloth bag he’d tied to the side of the crow’s nest to keep it from underfoot. He found an apple, a chunk of cheese, and a half-loaf of bread that still felt acceptably soft. Still seated on crossed legs, he took out a small knife and set to his breakfast.

“That’s a poor meal,” Yugi observed. “Cook’s set a fine table this morning. You should wander on down and eat a good breakfast.”

“Trying to be rid of me?” Shang-Li used his knife to bring an apple slice to his mouth.

Yugi shrugged. “Actually I don’t mind having you with me. I spend a lot of hours up here by myself. After a while I start talking to myself just to have company.”

Shang-Li didn’t want to go down to breakfast. His father would be there and the likelihood of an argument would ensue. Over the last few days, Shang-Li had gotten no closer to the identity of the blue woman that had destroyed

Grayling. Farsiak maintained throughout that she was a goddess of the sea.

Worst of all, if his father had discovered anything about the mysterious paper, he wasn’t sharing that knowledge.

“Can I look at your book?” Yugi gestured toward Shang-Li’s journal.

“You may.” Shang-Li cut a slice of bread and a slice of cheese, then put them together and ate them. The sharp cheese jarred with a taste of the apple but his stomach rumbled in anticipation of being filled.

“Several of the crew are curious about this sailor’s story.” Yugi flipped through pages, stopping every now and again as something caught his eye. Mostly it was images of the Blue Lady.

“There’s not much to know.” Shang-Li cut another wedge of apple. “Farsiak kept up an intermittent log of his life for six years after the shipwreck of the Grayling.”

“Have you finished copying his book?”

“Yes.”

“So what became of him?”

Shang-Li shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s hard for a man to write of his death after he’s dead.”

“Aye, I suppose that would be true enough.” Then Yugi grinned evilly. “Unless he became a lich or something.”

That, Shang-Li told himself, isn’t a pleasant thought. But he knew it was true.

“What do you think happened him?”

“Maybe he simply died of old age or in a fight in a tavern.” Shang-Li had considered Farsiak’s passing while working on the journal.

That was one of the differences between the work he’d learned to do in the monastery and the work his mother had taught him in the forests. In the monastery, a book often led to trails that couldn’t be explored. However, in the forests, Shang-Li had learned to follow a trail he’d cut by going forward to find out what it happened, or

backward to find out how it had all began.

Yugi leafed through the pages carefully, his fingers barely touching the edges. His gaze scanned Shang-Li’s neat writing but the pages of text didn’t hold his interest for long. Instead he studied the illustrations Shang-Li had made. “You’re one of the best artists I’ve ever seen.”

“Possibly you haven’t seen very many artists.”

“Depends on who you want to call an artist. There’s men who do tattooing that do beautiful work as well. Just a different canvas.”

Shang-Li smiled. “I suppose that’s true.”

“You don’t have to grow up in a monastery to appreciate art.” Yugi looked over the top of the page with a sly half-smile. “Of course, you didn’t exactly grow up in a monastery yourself, from what I’ve been told. And you haven’t been there to stay in years.”

Well, sailors aboard this vessel do like their gossip, Shang-Li thought ruefully. “No, I didn’t and I haven’t.”

Yugi continued turning the pages. Over the last few days he had seen most of the work Shang-Li had done with the translation. “I love the drawings you do of the ship. Is this how she looked?” He held the journal open to one of the pages that showed Grayling cutting across the open sea.

“Perhaps. I’ve never seen her, but I know the kind of ship she was supposed to be.”

Yugi turned pages and indicated another drawing. “This one really turns my stomach.”

The drawing showed Grayling breaking apart amid storm-tossed waves. The illustration was rendered in fine enough detail that crewmen could be seen hanging from the edges of the stricken ship and in the water.

A feminine figure stood atop a twisting wave, riding it gracefully like it was a spirited mount. She had her hand outstretched and it was obvious the sea and the wind obeyed her will.

“Watching gods.” Yugi unconsciously touched the charm

that hung from his necklace. Tve never seen a ship go down, and luck willing, I never will. Just the thought of being pulled down into the sea turns my guts to water.”

“It’s not a pleasant experience,” Shang-Li admitted.

The young sailor’s eyes rounded in surprise. “You’ve gone down aboardship?”

“I have. Twice.”

“What happened?”

“The first time, pirates scuttled our ship after taking our cargo. Most of us survived because we weren’t far from shore. The second time a reef ripped our bottom during a sea quake. Not even the ship’s mage had any warning.” Shang-Li shut away the pain that accompanied that particular memory. “Many of the crew and passengers didn’t survive.”

Yugi met his gaze with the honest intensity of youthful inexperience. “You lost friends aboard that ship?”

“I did. Very good friends.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

Silence between them for a moment. Gull cries sounded overhead and pierced the gentle luffing of a loose sail. Shadowed by the mainsail, Shang-Li looked up into the clear blue sky and saw the line of storm clouds had crept nearer despite the pilot’s efforts to outrun it in a parallel course.

Moonwhisper sat on a yardarm only a short distance away. The owl was nocturnal and didn’t enjoy the sun as much as Shang-Li did. Despite Shang-Li’s offer, Moonwhisper wouldn’t remain in the darkness of the hold. Shang-Li knew his animal companion sensed the unease that filled him and refused to be separated even aboard Swallow.

The owl’s territorial nature awakened with the arrival of the gulls. Feathers ruffling, Moonwhisper shifted on the yardarm and focused on the gulls gliding nearby. His keen talons scored the hardwood. When one of the birds darted too close, Moonwhisper unfurled his wings in warning.

Easy, my friend. Shang-Li slipped into the owl’s mind and reassured him. For all the adventures they had shared, for all the distance they were from Moonwhisper’s home, the raptor had remained stalwart.

“Do you think it happened like this?”

Shang-Li turned back to the young sailor and found him again studying the drawing of the Blue Lady confronting Grayling. “When I read Farsiak’s description of those events, that’s the image I formed in my mind.” It was also one he’d seen in his dreams, again and again. Now it almost felt as though he’d really been there.

Yugi was quiet for a moment and the sound of the gulls’ cries echoed around them. A few conversations from the crewmen on deck drifted up to reach them.

“Here, she looks very fierce,” the young sailor observed. Then he turned the page to one of the latest drawings Shang-Li had completed. “But here, she looks very beautiful.”

Shang-Li studied the drawing and stared into the silver eyes that held so much cold cruelty. She was beautiful, her skin like pale blue marble, and every inch of her feminine. Instead of simply sketching her in charcoal, he’d used chalks to add in the color. Her long hair fell past her shoulders in thick curls. Shells and pearls hung on a few of the ringlets. Dark blue and black armor barely protected her and served mainly to reveal enchanting her assets. A small buckler hung on her left wrist. A crest that resembled rain falling from a cloud lay in the center of it, but Shang-Li hadn’t been able to divine its nature.

“She is beautiful,” Shang-Li acknowledged. “But many of nature’s most dangerous things are. Oftentimes, beauty is just a lure for the unwary.”

“You got all of this from the description in that journal?”

Unease spun through Shang-Li. “Not all of it. Some of it comes merely from my imagination.” But some of it didn’t.

“Have you finished being petulant then?”

Recognizing his father’s voice immediately, Shang-Li curbed his irritation at his inability to find something meaningful in Farsiak’s journal. He didn’t bother glancing up from the snarled fishing nets he worked on. Stymied in his pursuit of information from the journal, unable to get past his father’s door and unwilling to seek him out to ask him questions, Shang-Li had turned to ship’s chores to occupy his busy mind. He had other books and other studies to attend to in his bag, but he found himself unable to focus on those things.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shang-Li replied coolly.

His father stood nearby and easily balanced on the rolling ship’s deck. “You’re playing with ropes like a common sailor.”

“Perhaps it’s only because I’m being treated like a common sailor.”

His father sighed. “I see you haven’t given up your petulance.”

Shang-Li looked up at his father then. “I’m not one of your students, Father, to be dismissed so casually. I’m here now because you wish me to be, and so did the monastery council.”

His father shoved his hands into his opposing sleeves. His students would have quailed at that.

“At the monastery, you are taught to honor your elders. I find it shameful that I need to remind you.”

“I was also taught that a man should treat another equally when they share a duty.” Despite the easy way the words tumbled from his mouth, Shang-Li wished they were not discussing this. He felt angry at the way he always seemed the child before his father.

A hint of fire flashed through Kwan Yung’s hazel eyes. “You think I am treating you as less than an equal?”

For a moment Shang-Li considered denying the line of thought. But it was how he felt.

“Yes.”

“How am I doing that?”

Shang-Li lowered his voice so that hopefully not every sailor in the vicinity could overhear. Still, he had no doubt that the crew would learn of the encounter. And their tongues would wag.

“You took that paper after I discovered it.”

“Nor have I discussed my findings with you, have I?”

“No.” In truth, his father had obviously taken pains to stay away from him.

“You think I have shut you out, don’t you?”