Raven realized he was in strange waters when constellations rose he did not recognize.
He came up from the captain’s cabin, stepping over the bodies unconscious on the stair, onto the deck.
The horizon of night was vast, and everywhere was wide, wild sea, with tall waves, like hills of water, gleaming in the starlight, restlessly passing back and forth across the rippling deep. The smell of salt had diminished, as they were far from shore.
In the gloom, Raven could see how the deck of the ship was littered with rubbish, and coils of unslung rope lay in heaps across the planks and rusted bits of brightwork.
Nothing on the ship showed a bit of polish or repair, except the flaying racks, which Raven had thrown overboard last night.
As he came amidships, some sailor in the rigging dropped a bag of filth and offal, which missed his head by inches, splattering across the deck and dotting his clothes with drops of fecal matter. “Sorry, Milord!” called a cheerful voice.
Raven saw two deckhands, seal-faced men in sailor suits with knotted neckerchiefs, clinging to the ropes high above.
They both pointed at each other. “He did it!” they cried in unison.
Raven sighed. The selkie had made the unfortunate discovery somehow that Raven’s control over the weather depended on his ability to keep his temper. He might not survive if the Storm-Princes turned on him.
He called, “Where is navigator, eh?”
The two deckhands pointed in opposite directions, one fore, the other, aft. Then they looked at each other and shrugged.
“Maybe he’s gone overboard, Milord!” offered one.
Thunder rolled through the air, and an angry gust rocked the boat. Raven took a deep, slow breath. The wind grew calm.
Another voice, a baritone, called, “Up here, so please you, Milord.”
Raven climbed to the poop deck, which was lit with many lanterns. A large selkie with a human face and a peg leg stood at the wheel. By the deckhouse compass stood two selkie with seal-faces, one was dressed in a long, blue coat with polished silver buttons; the other wore the captain’s bright red coat and plumed bicorn hat, but the long wig of white ringlets he wore was tilted askew.
The one in the long, blue coat said, “I be the navigator, Milord.”
“Ah? When is last time we spoke?” asked Raven.
The navigator’s nose twitched. He stroked his fine whiskers with a furry hand, looking at Raven sidelong. “Yesterday at eight bells ’twas, as I recall, Milord. Milord had asked me why we be sailing in a circle, it was, before I knew sure Milord knew something of sea lore, as it were.”
Then he leaned closer and showed his sharp, white teeth, “But Milord shouldn’t bother to ask. You know there be no way to get a body’s first true skin off except to kill him; and I don’t take kindly to the implication that there’s a man jack aboard this tub who could best me in any brawl-play, square or foul!”
Raven let that comment pass without reply. Instead, he asked, “What stars are these to our bow? These, they are not northern constellations, nor southern. The Great Bear, he is sunk, but is no Southern Cross rising, eh?”
“We be in the Third Hemisphere, Milord, having passed over the terminator when ye were below. They have two more seasons here, which ye hardly ever get on man’s Earth. The constellation just rising there we call Eurydice, the Lost Lady, and beside it, Peirithous, the Forsaken One. So called, on account of neither of them ever rises quite far enough get out of these here skies, if you catch the reference, ha har! The bright star between them is the planet we call Psychompompos; not many mariners of Earth have seen that wandering star, Milord, not and lived to tell the tale.”
“Then we are in dreaming-ocean, yes?”
“That be a matter of opinion and dispute, Milord. I would not say yes or no, if you take my meaning. But they be strange waters to be sure. Strange waters.”
At that point, someone threw a wet rag at the back of Raven’s head. It had been soaked in some sort of filth which stuck to his hair. Hoots of barking laughter sounded from behind. Raven brushed off the rag without turning.
“Captain,” said Raven to the selkie in the red coat and wig, “Three more deckhands I am finding lying thunderstruck outside my door when I get up just now. You understand you must send no more assassins, eh? My spirit protects the door. I have told everyone to leave door alone when it is closed.”
The captain looked nervous, blinking his big black eyes and twitching his whiskers.
The navigator spoke up. “Begging your pardon, Milord, but once the lads found out how you were defending yourself like that whilst ye were sleeping, well, naturally, it became sort of a game with them to see how close they could get, and wrestle and push each other into your door, so as to get the thunderbolt to knock them senseless what lost the game, so to speak. Hope the noise weren’t keeping ye awake?”
Raven said to the captain, “And you said you would show me charts and maps of Moon, once daylight come. Dawn come soon. Where are charts?”
“Been meaning to talk to ye about that, Milord, privatelike, if ye see?” said the captain nervously, scratching at his dangling wig.
The captain drew Raven over to one side, near the railing, and he hissed, “I ain’t the captain!”
Raven groaned. “Must we go through this again?”
“No! For true! This time I really ain’t! The captain, he made me change garments with him last watch! He’s skulking among the men, ye know?”
“Tell him change back. He must obey you now, eh?”
“Nar! And I ain’t sure who he is anyhow!”
“What? You are saying
what
to me? He is in your face now, eh? Don’t know what your own face was looking like?”
“He’s planning some awful mischief, I tell ye that for true and certain, Milord! Don’t know what might be, but it’s awful mischief a-brewing!”
The pink light of dawn appeared off the bow with surprising suddenness, and the clouds all along the horizon were tinted with rose and tawny colors.
Raven stroked his beard, wondering at the captain’s words. He was puzzled as to why the Selkie did not simply jump overboard, turn to seals, and swim away.
At first he had thought that it was their avarice that held them. He had gathered all their trunks and chests and rolls of leather together in the captain’s cabin and locked them in the captain’s trunk. He assumed they would not be willing to leave without their wardrobes.
Perhaps this was a trap. But, if so, what else should he be doing?
“Well,” said Raven, “thank you for warning. One more question. Just curious, you know? Why some of you have human faces, others do not?”
“Ah, well, Milord, wearing those hoods and masks all the time can get pretty sweaty and stuffy, if you take my meaning. Mosttimes, only the officers are allowed to show their faces; but you have to be careful your seam don’t come undone, or your sleeves and gloves fall off, and then what can ye do, save some flopping on your face?”
“Eh? How do you zip up disguises without fingers?”
“Ar! Ye are simple, ain’t ye! Our girls put the witch-mark tabs right where we can get at ’em with our teeth, see?” And he pulled at the lace of his throat to display a triangle of three white discolorations on his neck, like bruises the size and shape of fingerprints.
“And where are charts showing secrets paths to Moon? In captain’s gear? In his pockets, eh?” Raven stepped forward.
The Sun came up over the horizon like an enormous ball of gold, and a hot wind struck over the ship from the East. The Sun seemed many times the size of Earth’s Sun, and the sunrise was swifter than sunrise in the tropics.
In the sudden light, Raven could see the captain shrinking back in fear, his muzzle wrinkled in a snarl. The captain turned and fled but stumbled on the gangway to the midships, raising mocking laughter from the crew.
Raven turned and squinted up at the blue-white sky. Enormous gusts of wind began to toss the ship. Clouds turned dark and darker, and the air began to feel tense and close. The bow dipped into a high wave, sending spray along the deck. A violent crosswind then heeled the ship far to the starboard. The masts creaked alarmingly, and some selkie screamed in fear, while others hooted and laughed.
The navigator grabbed the taffrail, shouting, “Luff the mizzen shrouds, ye lubbers! Get them canvass furled before we lose the mast! Hop to!”
Seal-men on deck scurried to obey the orders.
Raven raised his hand and the wind fell to a gentle breeze. He put his hand on the shoulder of the selkie who had shouted out orders during an emergency, the one who happened to look like the navigator at the moment.
“Captain!” he said to the navigator, “last night I could not examine charts to find path to Moon since was no light. Is now light. I have waited. Which is way?”
The navigator snarled. “Ar! Garn! That was a regular Mannannan trick, that was.”
“The charts!”
“Ha har! There be no charts! No map shows the sea-route to the Moon, and the seas between the stars be vaster than any sea of Earth! We cannot go to the forbidden sphere save what they calls us, and they call not for us too often, I tell ye sure! We come and go at their pleasure, not ours, for the Moon faces halfway toward earthly things, and half toward outer darks, and those what dwell there bow to strange gods, and have deals with them. Horrible deals. We hates them as much as they hates us!”
“This, I find hard to believe.”
“That’s as ye like, ye hulk. We have to bribe and bootlick the Eech-Uisge of Uhnuman to get ships. Do ye think we selkie could ever get ourselves together long enough to build a ship, with no bickering, no knife-work, and no tricky play? Har har! We’re lucky if we can pull together long enough to hold a tea party. ‘Twill be different once the Seal-King gets the Moly Wand; and all the crimes but his alone, his and his close pals, will come to light! Then, ’tis the very world we’ll be having for our own!”
The name he had used: Eech-Uisge. It sent a thrill of horror down Raven’s spine, as if he remembered it from some dream. Images from dim memory came into his mind, clear and strong.
“I can summon up the Moon, if you will sail me there,” Raven whispered. “Their cities and ports will lay undefended to your cannon.”
“Are you such a magician then?”
Raven pointed his finger at the navigator’s whiskered nose. “You want see lightning bolt very up close to inspect, yes?”
“I see yer point, there! There! There! Put that finger away! But ’tis a right foolish idea to dream of us attacking them. I won’t hear of it … ,” whispered the navigator with thoughtful curiosity.
“So I attack them, me. You? You can pick through rubble and loot survivors as you wish. Or not, as you wish. I don’t care. Who will know it is you if you are not caught? No trustworthy evidence, you are innocent, no? But I must sail to Moon! Must reach Uhnuman before the Eech-Uisge realize what Galen Waylock is!”
The navigator squinted his big brown eyes and cocked his head sideways. “And what is this Waylock lad to ye?”
Raven spoke in an eager voice. “You know Galen’s soul is linked with my wife’s? The girl Mannannan saw at Everness? That woman, she is such fool! She carried off the most powerful … Uh. I mean, of course, I love her very much, and must find her right away, before anyone else gets the … I mean, before she comes to harm. Since I love her so much, you know. Galen must know where stupid girl is! He must be able to find his soul. Is instinct.”
The navigator whispered, “You call up the Moon, you got a deal, mate. We sail you straight to the docks of Uhnuman.”
“No tricks! I keep my eye on you at all times!”
“Har. Not to worry. I swear by the beard of Oberon, you’ll not find me pulling any tricks, at all, Ar. Har.”