WARP world (23 page)

She nodded. “Captain Ama. She was charming, for a Kenda.”

At the last word, the Judicia frowned. “Well, she was docked here, at Alisir, and your husband, according to his guard, went to meet her to arrange a private charter for the two of you.”

“He never mentioned…”

“It was to be a surprise, a gift, I’m told.” He glanced at his constables, certain they could guess the dead Lord’s real intention for keeping his visit with the female captain secret. “When he and the other guards boarded the boat, they were attacked by a pair of thieves. It seems this Captain Ama lured your husband onboard for this purpose. He was robbed of the coin he was carrying, murdered and tossed overboard. I’m sorry, I know this is horrible news I bring you.”

“I gave her a tip,” Lady Uval said.

“Your husband’s men did their best; they managed to kill one of the brigands but the thieves had Shasir weapons, stolen weapons. His men were outmatched. ” The Judicia tugged down on the lapels of his robe, with both hands. “These outlaws will be dealt with, severely. You have our assurance of that.”

“I should expect so,” Lady Uval said, sitting upright, all traces of her weeping vanished. Her mouth puckered. “You show a little kindness to these…” she turned and glared at the Welf girl, “…these mud kissers and water rats and they walk all over you. Ungrateful filth.” She whipped her head around to stare at the Judicia. “You have them then? The murdering witch and her partner?”

“No, but there is a man on the way to T’ueve at this very moment to track them down and apprehend them. He is a specialist at this sort of thing.”

The Lady stood and the three men hurried to follow her lead. “Judicia Serval, I am a woman of influence. You bring me that piece of Kenda filth and I will be calling you Commissioner Serval very soon. I want to see that woman torn and hung.”

Judicia Serval raised his palms and bowed respectfully. “Captain Kalder and her partner are as good as dead, my dear Lady.”

“Eat!” Perla ordered and dropped a large slice of meat onto Ama’s plate. “Gah, so thin! I should keep you here for a month to fill you out properly.” She ladled thick gravy over top of the meat.

Ama’s instinct was to protest, she had news, important news, and not much time to share it, but Perla’s round face shone down on her like a miniature sun, softening all urgency with its warmth. Next to her, Brin leaned back in his chair, while his two young children, Dalit and Nixie, vied for the coveted seat on their aunt’s lap.

“Rough crossing?” Brin asked.

Ama, her mouth full, nodded. They exchanged a look between them–hers filled with the significance of her unexpected visit, his assuring. They would speak alone soon enough.

“You didn’t come from the Banks by yourself, did you? During squall season? In that…boat?” Perla asked, ready to chasten once more, as she filled Ama’s cup with wine.

“No.” Ama swallowed and passed another silent message to Brin.

“Did you fight pirates, Aunty Tadpole?” Nixie asked, eyes wide as she squirmed on Ama’s leg.

“Only one,” Ama answered, with a smile that wavered, then raised her fork like a sword and poked the girl in the ribs.

Not to be left out, Dalit, who hovered at Ama’s side, piped up, “Uncle Geras says you gonna get married and not be a captain no more.”

Ama stabbed her fork into the meat, “Uncle Geras is a–”

“I think it’s time for chores and then bed,” Brin said, over Ama, to Nixie and Dalit. “Go on, say goodnight, then off to the kitchen to help your mother.”

Perla shepherded the children away after an extended farewell. When the room was clear, Brin leaned forward. “Geras doesn’t know you’re in T’ueve, does he?”

“Damn it,” Ama muttered, “I forgot he was here. Is he staying with you?”

“Yes, but don’t worry, you’re safe. He’s busy at the Terithe estate this evening; we don’t expect him back for hours. And I won’t tell him you were here but…” he rubbed his beard, in thought, “there’s nothing I can do to help you, Tadpole. You know that, don’t you? I would much prefer my favorite cousin remain a wild, vagabond captain, roaming the seas, but this business is between you and Uncle Odrell.”

Ama looked past Brin, her eyes moving over the details of his home, so much like the one she had known as a child. As she spied what must be his evening chair, and the table beside it stacked with documents, it was hard to believe that she and Brin had once planned to sail the world together, battling pirates and exploring undiscovered lands. She had ended up a glorified babysitter, herding Damiars up and down the river, scratching for coin to keep the
Naida
afloat; he had taken over his father’s boat building business, the welfare of a wife, children and a roster of workers all upon his broad shoulders. The dreams of children were so fragile.

“I’m not here to ask you to help me with family matters, cousin” she said and pushed away her plate, with a longing look at the savory meal.

“Oh?” Brin’s always-merry eyes, sharpened.

Ama took a deep breath, “We’re in danger. All of us. I…”

Now that she had arrived at the crucial moment, words evaded her. Every possible explanation seemed beyond belief and her mind was muddied with exhaustion.

“Ama,” Brin’s voice was soothing, he rested his hand on hers, engulfing it, “you’ve had a tiring journey. Why don’t you stay the ni—”

“Look,” she yanked her hand from beneath her cousin’s, leaned down, tugged off her boot and lifted the bottom of her trouser leg. Three long, red scratches were etched across her calf. “Drexla spines,” she said simply.

Brin bent forward and studied the marks. “Impossible, you’d be dead. There’s no cure for drexla venom.”

“I would be dead,” she agreed, “if it weren’t for the passenger I’m carrying, and his magic.”

“Shasir?” Brin jolted up in his seat.

“No. Seg’s people have magic far beyond anything the Shasir know, beyond anything you or I could dream of. They’re coming here, to invade our home.” Ama lowered her voice, “And I’m the only one who knows about it.”

Brin looked over his shoulder, to the kitchen, then back at Ama. “Is he still on the
Naida
, this Seg?”

“I slipped some furien into his drink; he’ll be asleep for a few more hours at least.”

“Good thinking. I won’t ask where you got the furien, probably best I don’t know.” He stood, fingertips on the table, “I’ll round up some men, we’ll get him while it’s still dark and he’s out. You should—”

“No,” Ama stood and gripped Brin’s wrist. She looked up into his pale eyes, “You can’t tell anyone about him. Not a word. And any man who tries to harm him will have to go through me first.”

Brin dragged his hand through his hair. “Damn my ancestors, I’m beginning to understand Geras’s frustration with you.” His eyes rested on hers, the unspoken connection they had always shared did the talking. He raised his eyebrows, “Is it a long story?”

“Very.”

“Come on then,” he crossed to the door, pulled a lantern off a hook, lit it and gestured for Ama to follow him outside. “Going for a walk to the river,” he called to Perla.

“Don’t you let her leave without a basket of food! I know how she eats!” she called back.

Brin shut the door and wrapped his arm around Ama’s shoulder. “What she means is she knows how you cook.”

Ama allowed herself a smile, both at her cousin’s joke and the welcome break in the tension. Something Brin had always excelled at.

“Now, about that very long story…” he said, as he led her along the path to the river.

Seg’s head felt as though large Outers had stomped on it for the better part of a day. He opened his eyes but couldn’t see. Where was he? A shiver of unease told him to sit up but his body failed to respond to the cue. He concentrated on one arm and eventually felt it inch toward his face, though there was a disconnection to the movement, as if he were manipulating someone else’s limb. His eyes began to pick out shapes in the darkness; he wasn’t blind, at least.

His nose was against something soft. A mattress? He inhaled. What was the scent? Musty and old but layered over with something sweet, something vaguely familiar.
Ama
. He forced his thoughts into order. The boat? Yes, he was still aboard. Aboard and, by the lack of movement, somewhere sheltered. A dock?

“Manatu?” he croaked, then reproached himself. Manatu was gone, sent back.

The throb in his head refused to subside. He curled up on the bunk, hands clasped around his skull, fingers probing at the back of his neck to try to relieve some of the tension.

“Ama?” he murmured.

A voice buried deep in his mind ordered him to get up, get his auto-med, get moving. He was vulnerable like this. But the relentless throb held him in place.

She’s done something to you, you fool. Get up!

Summoning all his strength, Seg bolted upright. His head screamed and a wave of dizziness washed over him. Then, as if a giant hand had swatted him, he fell back to the mattress. Out cold.

Eyes open again, Seg was aware of some passage of time but had no way to know how long he had slept. The pain had faded, but in its wake came a dull confusion, as if his thoughts and memories were wrapped in a thick layer of gauze. He groped around in the darkness, his hands found the edge of the bunk, his feet swung over and located the floor. There was an amp-light in his pack; he focused on that fact, as he used the contours of the bunk to guide him. One hand on the bunk, he reached out with the other until he felt the edge of the small table. He let go of the bunk, crouched down and groped blindly under the table for his pack. His fingers fumbled through the contents until they located the small cylinder. A press of a button lit up his surroundings.

Better. Now what?

Auto-med.

Another round of fumbling, this time aided by the amp-light, produced the auto-med. Once the sleeve was in place, Seg watched the readout and waited for relief. Then he frowned.
Insufficient data
. He stared at the screen with his mouth hanging open, blinked a few times, then pressed the button again. The readout flickered then came up the same.

Insufficient data. He groaned as the pieces fell into place. Whatever that treacherous woman had used to knock him out, it was too complex for the auto-med to counteract.

“Karging, untrustworthy…” Seg muttered, and punched up the sequence to deliver a stim dose.

There was the usual cold rush and a less than usual sharpening of his senses, but along with that another wave of dizziness, and now nausea, smacked him hard. He groaned and dropped to his knees.

Maybe she hadn’t drugged him? Maybe he had succumbed to some local ailment. Where was she? Was he in danger or not? Maybe…he shook his head and immediately regretted it. He couldn’t order his thoughts.

I have to find her.

He clung to that one clear idea as he staggered out of his quarters and up the stairs. Hand on the hatch, he stopped before he opened it. He was forgetting something. The light shone on the metal handle. The light. He doused the amp-light, then lifted the door and climbed out. According to protocols, he shouldn’t have unpacked even that small piece of the People’s technology in the first place, but at least he had remembered to shut it off before he wandered out into the night.

So hard to focus. He rubbed his hand across his forehead.

There was light out on the dock, on other boats and from a small city.

A search, end to end, of the upper deck produced nothing and he returned below. He called her name, shone the amp-light in all corners, but found nothing. She wouldn’t abandon her boat. He must have been out for hours; if she had gone to summon her fellow mariners, they would have already taken him by now.
Is she in some kind of trouble? Again?
He let out a long breath and sat down at the galley table.

For the first time he could remember, he had no answers to any of his questions. He rubbed his face, which was still slightly numb, then took a long slow look around the interior of the boat.

“She’s gone,” he said, the tone of his voice as empty as the galley.

With an effort uncommon for him, he considered the possibilities. She had betrayed him, or she was in some kind of trouble. Either way, he couldn’t stay here. He had his stunner and his Damiar persona as protection; he had to leave immediately, had to try to find his missing assistant.