The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock (2 page)

“My name is Kinker Dolan,” said Kinker. He spoke
slowly because he realized it hurt his throat less to do that. “I
am from the island of Destan.”

Malock quirked an eyebrow and looked at the female
aquarian. “Ever head of it?”

The female aquarian nodded. “Yes. It's a small
island, the southernmost of the Northern Isles. Its seas are home
to a variety of rare fish, but otherwise is an an insignificant
spit of land in the middle of nowhere.”

Kinker didn't like hearing his home insulted like
that, but he noticed how protective Malock seemed to be of the
female aquarian, so he decided not to argue.

Instead, he said, “I've told you my name. Now tell
me yours.”

Malock brushed some of his dark hair out of his eyes
and said, “Fair enough. But I'm surprised you don't already
recognize me. My handsome features are renown throughout the
Northern Isles, and I am admired by many fine women, even though I
have room in my heart for one alone.”

“Well, I am not a fine woman,” Kinker said, “so
forgive me if I fail to recognize you on sight.”

Malock sat up straight, puffed out his chest, and
said, “My name is Prince Tojas Malock, son of Queen Markinia and
King Halock, Crown Prince of the House of Carnag, Captain of the
Iron Wind
, and the Chosen One of Kano.”

He recited all of those titles with the kind of
enthusiasm Kinker commonly associated with Priestess Deber, back
home, informing the masses of a new message she had received from
Kano. Yet none of those titles meant a thing to the old fisherman.
Only the last one interested him, but even then, he wasn't sure he
wanted to ask because he didn't want to hear Malock drone on about
it.

“Well?” said Malock. “Don't you have anything to
say?”

Kinker shook his head. “Not really. Most of those
titles don't mean a whole lot to me.”

Malock looked so shocked that he almost fell off his
chair, but he immediately righted himself and said, “Well, if
Destan is as obscure an island as Vashnas says it is, then I
suppose it makes sense you wouldn't know about me or Carnag. But
you've heard of Carnagian boots, haven't you?”

Kinker thought about that for a moment. “My
grandfather owned a pair, but he lost them at sea when he was
fishing one time. They're supposed to be high quality, aren't
they?”

“Indeed they are,” said Malock. “My people produce
the best boots in all of the Northern Isles. I am wearing a pair
right now, in fact. Behold.”

Malock raised his right foot high enough for Kinker
to see. A large boot made of fine leather covered it, but the boot
didn't look nearly as fancy as Kinker expected it to. It looked
like it had been exposed to the weather, with water damage obvious
at the toe. It was even ripped on one side and had obviously been
hastily repaired by someone with no knowledge, training, or skill
in boot repair.

Malock rested the boot back on the floor and said,
“We produce enough boots to supply the entire Northern Isles. We
have buyers from Kiskasa to Nikos and everywhere in between.”

“Okay,” said Kinker, though he wasn't sure what was
so impressive about being the prince of a giant boot factory. “Say,
you mentioned something about being the Chosen One of Kano earlier;
what does that mean?”

“That is not important at the moment,” said Malock
in a tone that told Kinker it was actually very important. “What is
important is finding out why you were on the sea at that time of
night.”

Kinker blinked. “That time of night? Don't you mean
this time of night?”

“Oh, that's right,” said Malock. “You don't know.
Well, you were out for, what, three days?”

“Three and a half, actually,” said Telka, nodding.
“That's why we weren't sure you were alive, Kinker. You were out
for so long, why, it's a miracle you woke up at all. Younger men
than you have died from the same injuries.”

“Three days ...” Kinker repeated, looking at the
blanket covering his legs. He couldn't imagine being out cold for
three days, yet he had no reason to believe that any of them were
lying to him about this.

“So if you were hoping we'd take you back to your
home, you are sadly mistaken,” said Malock. “We are already well
beyond the Northern Isles. There's no going back, no matter how
much you beg and plead.”

Good,
Kinker thought.
I don't want to go
back, not after what happened there. Not after what I did.

“Again, I must ask,” said Malock, “what were you
doing on the sea in that weather? Our ship was nearly capsized and
it's much larger than yours. You must either be very stupid or have
a very good reason for risking your life. Were you trying to save
someone else?”

Kinker hesitated for a moment. He couldn't tell them
the truth. They might kick him off the ship if he told them. He had
to come up with a lie quickly.

So he said, “Yes, I was. My granddaughter was out
making sure the boats had not been swept away by the sea, but then
the ocean waves dragged her out. I suppose she's dead now.”

Kinker actually didn't have a granddaughter. He'd
never married, never had any children ever. This was mostly because
he had been devoted to his work, but also because he had never been
interested in women very much. He much preferred men, but even
then, marriage had never been a concern of his.

But Malock, Vashnas, and Telka didn't know that.
They looked sad at hearing the 'news,' which meant they bought the
lie—hook, line, and sinker.

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Malock, sounding
like he meant it. “Losing a family member is always difficult. I
lost my own grandfather to the sea a few years ago, actually. One
minute he was there and the next ...”

Malock looked down, breathed in and out rapidly, and
then looked back up at Kinker. His face had regained its
authoritative, detached look, but Kinker didn't think he'd ever
look at it again without seeing the pain in Malock's eyes that was
now far too obvious for him to ignore.

“But that has nothing to do with this,” said Malock.
“The point is, I appreciate you telling us who you are and what you
were doing out in the sea on that night. Love makes us do crazy
things, whether it's familial, platonic, or romantic, so I won't
fault you for doing something so stupid and dangerous.”

Vashnas smiled at that, like Malock had just made an
in-joke that only she and the Captain understood. A glance at Telka
told Kinker that it was indeed an in-joke because the ship doctor
didn't react. He simply stood there looking concerned, as if he
thought Kinker was going to drop dead if he kept talking like
this.

“Now that I've told you my story, it's your turn,”
said Kinker, pointing at Malock. “What is the Crown Prince of
Carnag doing so far from his palace?”

Malock sat up straight and rubbed his hands
together, like he couldn't wait to tell Kinker. “Oh, that's a long
tale. I'm not sure I can relay the entire thing to you here, right
now, but—”

“I have nothing better to do,” Kinker said,
gesturing at the blanket covering his legs. “Shoot.”

“All right, then,” said Malock. “You see, Kinker,
about two months ago, I was asleep in my royal bedchambers, after a
hard day of practicing my fencing techniques and negotiating boot
prices with the Shikan military. I was quite exhausted, so when my
servants finished dressing me—”

“Your servants dressed you?” Kinker said. “Can't you
dress yourself?”

Malock huffed and folded his arms across his chest.
“As Crown Prince of Carnag, I don't have the time to dress myself.
It is beneath me; hence why I have servants especially devoted to
the task.”

Kinker had a hard time imagining that. What was so
difficult about slapping on a shirt, a jacket, and pants that you
had to hire people to do it for you? It seemed like something that
any grown adult could do in less than a minute if necessary. Even a
young child could accomplish the task in a short amount of time.
When Kinker had been a very young kid, he'd compete with his
brother to see who could get dressed for work in the shortest
amount of time.

Perhaps royal clothes are more difficult to put
on or something,
Kinker thought.
Or maybe Malock is just a
spoiled brat.

That last thought seemed likely to Kinker, though of
course he did not say it aloud.

“Now as I was saying,” Malock said, his tone more
than a little miffed now. “When my servants finished dressing me, I
fell asleep the minute my head hit the pillow. But I did not get a
restful, dreamless sleep. Instead, I was visited in my vision by a
beautiful woman, a woman whose beauty exceeds that of nearly every
mortal woman I've ever seen in my life.”

Vashnas made a face at that, like she was annoyed.
At least, Kinker thought she was annoyed. He was not good at
deciphering aquarian facial expressions, primarily because he had
spent most of his life around humans. The few aquarians that had
lived on Destan rarely mingled with the humans, so Kinker had never
gotten to know them very well.

Malock didn't seem to notice because he was still
talking. “The woman wore robes the color of the sea on a bright
summer day, shining beautifully. Looking into her eyes was like
staring into the deepest sea; mysterious, dark, yet inviting. And
she carried with her a fishing net made entirely of water.”

Kinker sat up a little straighter at the
description, which had sparked a memory in his head. “Fishing net
... did she have long hair that resembled the ocean waves?”

Malock looked stunned at Kinker's question. “Yes,
yes she did. You sound like you've seen her before.”

“I think I have,” said Kinker. “But go on. I'm still
listening.”

Malock scratched his chin and said, “Well, as you
can probably guess, I was taken aback by her appearance. I was
certain she was just a figment of my imagination, but she was far
too ... real for that to be a possibility, if you understand what I
mean.”

Malock looked at Kinker like the old fisherman
should, but for the life of him Kinker could not understand.
Glancing at Vashnas and Telka didn't help because Vashnas still
looked annoyed and Telka looked embarrassed.

“Anyway,” Malock continued, “whether you get it or
not is unimportant. She then spoke to me.”

Kinker tilted his head to the side. “What did she
say?”

“I do not remember it all,” Malock admitted. “She
spoke in an unfamiliar language. Nonetheless, I understood the gist
of it: She was summoning me to the edge of the world, to the very
last island in creation, an island known as World's End.”

“World's End?” said Kinker. “Isn't that just a
legend?”

“It's real,” Malock said. “I saw it—saw it in my
dreams. The woman showed me the most beautiful city imaginable,
built on the edge of the world. The Throne of the Gods, as it is
also known in the old stories. It was a brief glimpse, true, but
somehow I know it was real.”

“How can you trust what the woman said, though?”
said Kinker. “Maybe it was just a dream.”

Malock shook his head rapidly. “No, no, no. I know
it was more than just a dream because of the woman's identity.”

“And who was the woman, exactly?”

Malock placed his hands on his lap and said, “Kano.
Goddess of the Sea, Sand, and Art.”

Another memory sparked in Kinker's mind, of when he
was a child, seeing the face of a beautiful woman in the ocean surf
before it dissipated in the waves. “Kano? I didn't think anyone
else worshiped her outside of Destan.”

“I do not actually worship her,” Malock said. “The
Carnagian Royal Family is devoted almost entirely to Grinf, God of
Justice, Metal, and Fire, due to the blessings he has bestowed upon
us over the years. As a matter of fact, the last member of the
Royal Family who tried to worship another god ... well, let's just
say that it didn't work out and leave it at that.”

The tone in which he spoke made it clear that, if
Kinker even asked about it, the old man would find himself back in
the Crystal Sea again.

“Anyway,” said Malock, his tone brightening, “I
didn't even know about Kano until she showed up in my dreams. I
actually had to have some of my servants research her in the royal
library. We have tons of books on the various gods. Turns out Kano
has quite a following among the aquarians but for some reason has
never been particularly popular among humans. Wonder why that
is.”

“Not much of a mystery, if you ask me,” Vashnas
said. “She controls the whole sea and we live in it. Would be kind
of dumb if we didn't honor her.”

“Ah,” said Malock, “I see. So when I learned that
she was an actual goddess, my next choice was not at all difficult
to make. I decided I was going to round up a fleet of ships, find
the best crew money can buy, and head on down to World's End,
which, according to the dream, is at the very end of the southern
seas. Simple, yes?”

Kinker scratched the back of his ears. “You mean
your parents didn't try to stop you?”

“Oh, at first my parents were against it,” said
Malock with a snort. “They were convinced I was acting on nothing
more than a delusional fantasy. In particular, my mother seemed to
treat the suggestion of me going on a voyage to the end of the
world as though I had just suggested that I wanted to jump off the
tip of Carnag Hall. My father simply thought it was irresponsible,
argued that I had to stay here in order to learn more about my
future kingly duties and that I couldn't be sure Kano had summoned
me at all. Frankly, my parents can be a tad overprotective at
times, if I do say so myself.”

To Kinker, they didn't sound overprotective at all.
They sounded reasonable. But he did not share this opinion, as he
was still listening.

“But despite all their faults, my parents are highly
respectful of the gods and their wishes,” Malock said. “I summoned
a dream reader, who confirmed that my dream had indeed been from
Kano. When the dream reader confirmed it, my parents dropped all
their protests and immediately began helping me put together a
fleet and crew that would get me to World's End in one piece. That
took about a month total.”