The Broken World Book One - Children of Another God (23 page)

Finding the
docks was simply a matter of following her nose. The smell of fish
and salt carried on the inshore breeze, and the straight wide roads
led her to a fish market populated by fat fishwives and salty
fishermen. A flotilla of boats crowded the dock, four or five deep
along the wharf. Ocean-going ships rubbed against fishing boats of
all shapes and sizes. The bustle of loading and off-loading kept a
constant stream of activity through the market. Brothels and
warehouses bordered the docks, and fishing nets lay in great piles
or were stretched between the gangs of men and women repairing
them. The atmosphere was industrious, and people laughed and talked
as they worked, while children played at their feet.

Stopping beside
a grey-bearded man relaxing on a bollard smoking a pipe, Talsy
enquired after a dingy for sale. He directed her to a vast,
red-faced man repairing a net, who set a price well beyond her
purse and assured her that she would not a get a boat for less.
Despondent, she asked about buying passage on a ship, and he
directed her to a handsome, lean-faced man clad in a smart olive
coat, cream shirt, soft brown boots, fawn trousers and a peaked
cap. He agreed to take her across for a mere two silver coins,
which seemed reasonable, but she shivered at the way his grey eyes
raked her. His ship sailed that afternoon, which meant she would
have no chance to leave the city and meet Chanter. Wandering to a
deserted end of the docks, she leant against a sea wall. She
studied the wheeling gulls, wondering which one was the Mujar, and
how she could get him to come down.

A rustle of
wings beside her made her glance around. A gull had landed not two
feet from her, and regarded her with silver-blue eyes as he
shuffled his wings into place. Talsy smiled.

"I have passage
on a ship," she told him. "It sails this afternoon."

The gull
stretched his neck and looked around.

"I don't know
its name," she answered the silent question. "But you'll see me
board it."

The gull puffed
out his feathers and shook himself. Glad of his presence, she sat
on the wall beside him and watched the wharf's bustle and the ships
sailing in and out of the harbour. At noon, her stomach growled,
and she left the Mujar to purchase lunch at a nearby tavern.
Returning to the sea wall, she brought a slice of bread, which she
tore into little bits and fed to the gull. He took them from her
fingers, and she longed to stroke the smooth soft feathers, but
doubted that he would appreciate it.

"That's a very
tame bird." A voice behind her made her turn as Chanter took
wing.

The grey-eyed
sea captain sauntered up, smiling. He glanced up at the wheeling
birds. "They're good eating, you know."

Talsy shuddered
and swallowed the hot words that leapt onto her tongue at his
callous observation. "Are we leaving now?"

He nodded.
"They've almost finished loading the cargo."

Once again, his
eyes raked her, making her skin crawl, and she was glad when he
turned away. She followed him to a gangplank that spanned the gap
to a modest, well-built schooner. He helped her aboard in a
gentlemanly fashion, but she shuddered at his touch. Bales were
stacked on the deck, and the ship sat low in the water. The captain
led her to a hatchway, where Talsy hesitated, unwilling to follow
him into the ship's bowels.

"I'd like to
stay on deck," she said.

"For two
days?"

She hid her
dismay with a bland smile. Chanter had said a day and a night, but
evidently it took longer on a ship.

Talsy followed
the captain down a steep stairway, filled with trepidation. He took
her to a cabin in the stern of the ship with a narrow bunk on one
side and a desk and chair on the other. At the back was a
diamond-paned window made from poor quality glass. She put down her
bag and turned to find him smiling, his demeanour smug.

"This is my
cabin, but it's yours for the trip."

"Where will you
sleep?"

"I'll bunk with
the men. It's only two nights."

Talsy frowned.
"I thought you said two days."

"Yes, two days
and two nights. We dock early in the morning of the third day.
That's depending on the weather, of course."

She fingered
the hilt of her hunting knife, drawing his eyes to it. "It's very
kind of you to give me your cabin, captain."

He raised cold
eyes to hers. "Think nothing of it."

After he left,
she sank down on the bunk with a sigh. For all that he was
handsome, the captain made her nervous. Half an hour later, the
sounds from above told her that they were setting sail, and soon
the ship rolled on ocean waves. Afraid that Chanter might have
missed her boarding the ship, she went on deck. The bustle of
undocking had calmed, and a brisk offshore wind filled the sails.
Sailors coiled ropes or sat smoking and talking in groups. The wind
freshened, filled the sails to capacity and drove the ship along at
a good rate. Talsy knew who was responsible for it and looked up
for her gull. Many wheeled above, making it impossible to pick out
one with blue eyes.

The captain
joined her at the railing. "Nice wind. We should make good time if
this keeps up."

"Let's hope it
does."

"Yes." He eyed
her. "Odd to get an offshore wind at this time of year."

"Lucky for us,"
she replied.

The captain
scowled, then turned to shout orders at some malingering men before
walking off. Glad to be left alone, Talsy relaxed and watched the
sparkling sea foaming along the ship's flanks. The rest of the
afternoon passed pleasantly, and at dusk she retreated to her
cabin, where a boy brought her a hot fish stew for dinner. The
cabin door had a latch, and she locked it after the boy left.

An hour later,
just as she was about to climb onto the bunk, a knock at the door
startled her.

"Who is it?" she
ask
ed.

"It's the
captain." The door rattled.

"What do you
want?"

"I have some
wine. I thought we could have a drink together."

"Thank you,"
she called, "but I'm too tired."

Talsy held her
breath as a long silence fell, then the door flew open with a
crash. The captain sauntered in, a bottle of wine in hand, wearing
a thunderous scowl.

"I don't like
to be turned down, missy," he growled. "Two coins don’t buy the
captain's cabin, you know."

"Then you
shouldn't have given it to me," she snapped. "I'll sleep on deck."
Picking up her bag, she went to pass him.

He stepped into
her path. "Not so fast, girl. You just have to be a little
friendly, and you can stay here."

"I don't wish
to."

"Surely you
know how these things work? A girl travelling alone should have
learnt the rules of the road. I know you're not from Jishan, so
you're wise to it, aren't you?"

"No." She
stepped back, putting the bag down. "I learnt how to make my own
rules." She slid the big knife from her belt.

The captain
eyed it with a smile. "A big knife, but you're just a little
girl."

Talsy raised
the weapon. "I know how to use it."

His eyes
narrowed, and he stepped back. "You're going to regret this, girl.
I expect more payment than a mere two coins for this passage."

"Too bad,
that's all you asked for. Get out."

The captain
hesitated, measured her with his eyes and probably wondered if he
could take the knife away without getting injured. Evidently he
decided the risk was too great, for he turned on his heel and left,
slamming the door. Talsy relaxed with a sigh, sagging onto the
bunk. When her heart had stopped pounding, she rose and dragged the
chair across the room to jam under the door handle.

Chanter drifted
high above a black sea silvered by a glittering moon path that led
to the rising orb. Below him, the dark ship ploughed through
restless waves, its foaming bow wave aglow with phosphorescence,
leaving a shimmering trail that the ocean tossed. A short while
ago, he had perched atop the swaying mast to listen to the ship's
faint Dolana. It carried no warning of danger to the girl, freeing
him to spread his wings and let the wind lift him into the air. The
ocean's dark depths beckoned with gentle liquid swells and the
promise of endless mystery and excitement.

Folding his
wings, he dived through the cold wind and into Shissar's welcoming
embrace. As he slipped beneath the waves, he invoked the Power and
exchanged his feathered, long-winged form for a sleek grey shape
powered by sweeping flukes. With a flick of his tail, he slid
through the water that enfolded him in a soft clasp. Shissar was
the friendliest of the Powers, the tender healer and wellspring of
life. Like returning to the pod that had birthed him, the touch of
water sent thrills of delight through him.

With swift
vertical strokes of his flukes, he glided through the sea, tasting
the currents that flowed beneath the waves. Amid the layers of cold
and warm, sweet and salty, he revelled in the ocean's mighty bounty
of sensations. The black depths stretched away in every direction
save up, where the moon's glimmer shone through the wave patterns.
A flash of silver below revealed a solitary hunting fish, eyes
agleam as it searched for prey.

Chanter dived
deeper with a gentle lashing of his tail, and soon inky blackness
surrounded him. The water sliding over his skin and the warm and
cold currents gave sensation in this dark world. Passing swells
rocked him as they marched across the sea, and the currents that
ran through it on their way to distant shores tugged at him. Within
the freezing black depths, he sensed the ocean floor and levelled
off, letting the sea take him where it would.

Below him,
myriad tiny creatures sent signals of light into the darkness,
flashing dances of sparkles that pulsed and shimmered, spiralled
and glimmered, filling the blackness with their little beacons.
Fish carried biotic lanterns to light their way, denizens of the
darkness that had never seen any light but their own. Hunters waved
flashing lamps to attract the unwary, luring them to certain death
in sucking mouths. Within these watery depths, a strange song of
pops and crackles, buzzes and rattles mixed with the faint ballad
of a distant pod of whales rejoicing in their freedom and the birth
of a calf.

Chanter flicked
his flukes and started upward, leaving behind the secret dark
world. His lean, muscled form arrowed through the water, whose
gentle caress became a strong stroking as it parted before him and
slid along his length. Moonlight sent shafts of silver downwards,
then he leapt into an empty world of light and swift, cold wind. He
blew out mist and inhaled before plunging back into the waves,
lighting them with a green glow amid the white spume. Back in the
buoyant environment for which his form was designed, he powered
through the waves, leaping from one swell to the next.

A pod of his
sleek grey brothers and sisters joined him with glad cries and
smiling mouths, dark liquid eyes sparkling with their innate joy.
They gambolled in the waves, rubbed smooth skins and flippers, and
blew puffs of spray before diving back into the depths. They sought
out the whales and joined them as the new mother nudged her calf to
the air, the big bulls watchful for predators amid the birth blood.
Two older bulls hung head down and sang their piercing, poignant
song of welcome to the new member of their pod.

Chanter headed
back towards the ship, followed by the playful dolphins. As the
first rosy streaks of dawn lighted the sky, he decided it was time
to quit Shissar's safety and return to the emptiness of Ashmar. The
ship sailed silhouetted against the golden dawn as he made his
final ascent and leapt into the air. The Power of Ashmar
transformed him, and he clawed his way into the wind with long,
fragile wings. Buffeted by the cold air, he sailed high, looking
down at the sleek grey shapes that frolicked in the waves below.
With a tilt of his wings, he let the wind sweep him to the ship,
there to settle on the mast top and test the ship's Dolana. A few
sleepy sailors emerged to stretch and yawn as the cook prepared
breakfast on deck.

Talsy emerged,
clutching her coat close against the cold wind, and took a bowl of
steaming porridge before vanishing below again. Satisfied that she
was well, Chanter tucked up a foot and puffed out his feathers. He
pondered the distant Rashkar, only a few hours away by air. Perhaps
he should go ahead and see what he could find out before Talsy
arrived. She seemed safe, and surely the sailors had no reason to
harm her. This close to his goal, the urge to find the boy, Arrin,
was strong. He could be back at the ship by dusk. Talsy would be on
her own for just a few hours. Making his decision, he spread his
wings and let the wind lift him into the air.

Chanter flew
low over the wave tops, swooping through deep troughs between the
swells where the air was easier to fly. The sun was only a halfway
to its zenith when Rashkar came into sight.

The great city
sprawled for miles up and down the coast, far larger than Jishan,
one of the largest Chanter had seen. Unlike Jishan, Rashkar gleamed
white in the sun, a city of whitewashed stone and wood. Two massive
stone breakwaters calmed the harbour and banned the ocean swells.
Here ships lay at anchor or docked beside the wharf, boats swimming
between them with flashing oars. He wheeled above the city,
studying the centre of it, where straight roads intersected between
tall buildings with grey-tiled roofs. On the outskirts, the roads
became warped into a maze amongst smaller dwellings, losing the
orderly design of its original builders.

Finding the
barracks was easy enough. Dusty parade grounds and sprawling tent
towns bordered the cluster of long, low buildings. He floated down
to perch on a rooftop, surveying the men below. Hundreds marched
around in the dust, others trained in groups with slashing swords
and parrying shields. Many more lived in the tents and rested in
the barracks. How was he to find one man amongst so many? The task
seemed impossible, for none of his Powers would aid him in this
endeavour.