The Farthest Shore (Eden Series Book 3) (30 page)

“Hold on to me,” she said. He locked a hand around her ankle. Maybe her legs weren’t useless after all, she thought as she took in a breath so deep her chest ached.

Above, the hatch opened and the sea poured in.

Water smashed down, roaring in her ears, cold and heavy. She clenched her teeth against a gasp. She was blind and deaf, the last remaining sprays of glowcoral drowned in darkness. The force of the descending water pounded against her trembling fingers and loosened them from the rung.

Kaig’s hand shot down, closing over her wrist. With a heave, he pulled her out of the submersible.

“This will sting a little,” Reveka said.

Miri nodded, still not sure how to deal with the discovery that the woman she’d called a mute had been nothing of the sort. Then a wet cloth swabbed the length of her jaw, and she stopped thinking altogether, her teeth gritted as she fought not to make a sound. Thank the Unity Reveka didn’t have anything that would sting a lot.

At the other side of the surgery a meeting was in progress, since Alyster had said dryly that his quarters were no longer in any condition for a rat to nest in, let alone for people to occupy. So after Reveka had bandaged his arm, he had sat down and poured out rum for Captain Solarcis, the chief engineer and Thomal. “One of the few things they didn’t smash,” he said, indicating the bottle.

“They needed it for the journey back.” Captain Solarcis was propped up on a few pillows, but although he seemed determined to be part of the discussion, it was clear he was at the limits of his endurance. He rested his glass on his bunk, as if the drink might be a little heavy to lift. “What about the water supply? They poisoned
Enlightenment
’s.”

The chief engineer snorted. “Well, we were lucky, I suppose. They just dumped ours after we refused to start the engine.”

Reveka looked up. “Can we set up a distillation apparatus? Boil seawater and condense the vapor?”

“We could, if we had spare fuel. We jettisoned most of the coal.”

Alyster made a sound that was half-groan and half-chuckle. “Sometimes I wish you people weren’t so damn efficient.”

“Admiralty orders, sir.”

Thomal downed most of his glass and sighed. “Much as I appreciate good rum, if we try to live on it we’ll end up steering the ship into a reef. I suppose we’ll make speed for the nearest port?”

“No,” Alyster said. “We’re heading for Snakestone. That’s only six days away, and we have enough water until then.”

They all looked at him in perplexity, and Miri wondered if he’d had a cask hidden where the Tureans hadn’t found it, perhaps behind a false bulkhead. “Sir?” Thomal said.

“The water in the boilers. That’s saved and reused, and it’s fresh.”

Reveka raised her brows. “That water’s been in close contact with a lot of heated metal, day in and day out, so I can’t vouch for its safety. But if the alternative is dying of thirst, I suppose we could try it for a few days.”

The chief engineer looked unable to believe what he had just heard. “But sir, the boilers—”

“Seawater.”

“That will build up mineral deposits inside the machinery, and the engine will need to be stopped so it can be descaled.”

Alyster drained his glass. “How often will it need to be stopped?”

“Every four days.”

“Officially, I’m sure that’s so, but I’m also sure a margin of safety is built into requirements like those. We could stretch it out to five days, maybe even six, and by then we’ll be at Snakestone Isle, so you can do whatever you need there.”

He was utterly implacable, Miri thought, but she understood that better than she did at the start of the voyage. Not only was this his first command, it had nearly ended in a disaster where he had been trapped and helpless, so he was determined to prove he was not only back in charge but could win the race as they were.

“Sir,” Thomal began, “if the rest of the crew return—”

“We’ll leave a flag on a rock, along with a note for anyone who finds it.” Alyster got to his feet. “But barring any other developments, we’re weighing anch—I mean, leaving before seven bells. Anything more?”

“There is one thing, sir.” The chief engineer glanced in Miri’s direction. “What she told the pirates about being half-salt…was that true?”

The surgery fell silent, and Miri’s chest tightened as if it was trying to draw in on itself. That lasted for only an instant, which was all the time Alyster took to reply.

“Yes, it’s true,” he said, as if reminding them all of something minor they had overlooked. “I was aware of it all along, so you can pass the word that if anyone objects to not being informed, they can take it up with me.”

Miri let her breath out slowly as he walked out, and the rest of the officers followed after a moment’s pause, during which everyone was careful not to look at her again. According to the watch Reveka had left on a shelf nearby, it was nearly dawn, the end of the longest night of her life. She didn’t feel up to cooking breakfast, but a pot of coffee made with boiler-water might not go amiss for whoever was on duty, if they were prepared to drink whatever she prepared.

One of the Tureans had surrendered, along with a girl whom Kovir insisted was a Denalait, so she made a mental note to find out where they were and take them some coffee too. No one trusted them, so Alyster had ordered them confined and held Kovir responsible for making certain they didn’t leave without permission. She wondered if the night was really at an end, or if the guards and prisoners had just exchanged places.

“Raise your shirt,” Reveka said, but Miri needed to sponge more clots away before that was possible. The wound on her stomach was as long as her smallest finger, and she winced as it was swabbed.

“At least it’s not deep,” Reveka said as she bandaged the wound, winding long strips of boiled-clean linen around Miri’s torso. “You won’t need stitches, but you’ll have scars. Wait here, I’ll get you something better to wear.”

Her shirt was little more than stained rags, so Miri accepted another one gratefully and went to the engine room for water before she made coffee in the galley. The sun was just starting to rise, and the sea stretched vast and calm around the ship. Once she finished straining the coffee, she added enough sugar to mask the lingering taste of the boiler-water before she passed out cups and carried a tray down to the surgery.

Reveka was alone, stitching sheets to cover the bodies of the two engineers whom Ralcilos had killed. Miri stopped outside the door, but Reveka waved her in with a tilt of her head, hands never pausing at her work. “Leave it on the table,” she said. “Thank you.”

Miri nodded, but rather than leaving she hesitated at the door, two cups still on her tray.

“You’re wondering,” Reveka said without looking up from her needle.

Miri thought that even when Reveka spoke tersely, her voice was low and sweet and probably more appealing to men than her looks, if that was possible. “Well, yes,” she said. “Wouldn’t you be, under the circumstances?”

“Suppose so.” Reveka made the last stitch, tied a knot and broke the thread. “Remember what happened to my husband?”

“Yes.” He’d died of drinking tainted water but her daughter had survived.

“I couldn’t save my daughter.” Reveka touched the sheet, smoothing it over the man’s shoulder. “I tried and tried. The night I knew she would die, I went to Skybeyond and promised I would do anything or give anything the Unity asked from me, if she lived.”

Miri didn’t want to imagine what that night must have been like for Reveka. “I’m glad she did, but…the Unity asked you to stop speaking in exchange?”

Reveka nodded. “One of the Voices visited me to say the Unity had saved her, and to see if I would pay the price. Of course I would. Especially since the Unity was generous enough to allow me to speak again. The Voice said there would come a day when I would need to protect the servants of the Unity and strike at its enemies at the same time. At that day and that hour, I would know I had to speak.”

Miri wasn’t quite sure what to say. That answered a few more questions she’d had, such as how anyone could have become a qualified and licensed physician while being mute, but it also occurred to her that Reveka hadn’t known exactly when she would be able to speak again. She might have lived for years or decades without that stricture ever being lifted. Of course, not everyone liked talking as much as she did, but still.

Reveka came out from around the bed and took her cup. “Once we return home, I’ll go to Skybeyond and tell that Voice he was right.”

So he’ll probably keep doing that with other people
, Miri thought. Other parents who were terrified their children might die.

“It doesn’t seem right to me,” she said.

Reveka frowned. “What doesn’t?”

“The Unity asking you to do that.”

“It was a payment. Fair exchange. More than fair. I can manage without talking to people, but do you think I would want to live without my child?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Miri regretted having ever brought the matter up, but she made a last effort. “I can understand payment like money. If you saw someone dying, you’d try to save their life first, and once they recovered you’d see about getting compensated for your time and effort and supplies. That makes sense. But telling you to be silent?”

“Well, the Unity doesn’t need money.”

“Why would the Unity ask you not to speak, is what I’m getting at. It seems so…arbitrary. It’s not like the Unity benefits in any way from your not talking.” It was an odd, capricious thing to do, like telling someone to jump off a cliff to see if they would actually obey, but she didn’t dare say that. She was coming close enough to insulting the Unity as it was.

And Reveka’s eyes were distinctly flinty. “Let me put it this way,” she said. “The day you and you alone have the ability to save my baby’s life, you can ask for anything you think is reasonable in return and I’ll do it. Agreed?”

Miri felt about an inch tall, and wished she was so she could hide in a crevice. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I had no right to question you like that.”

Reveka thawed again. “It’s all right. I’m not angry. But that was an extraordinary experience, something I hope I’ll be able to tell my grandchildren about some day. If you ever receive the Unity’s blessing, you might understand.”

“Of course,” Miri said, not sure whether that had been generous or condescending. Generous, she decided, because at least Reveka had held out the possibility of such a blessing, rather than claiming out of hand that the Unity would have nothing to do with a half-salt. She looked around to see if there was any other crockery to be taken back to the galley, and her gaze stuttered to a halt at the bodies at the other end of the surgery, in the shadows.

“Are you going to bury them too?” she said.

“Yes.” Reveka unfolded a second sheet.

“And you’re not going to…cut them up or anything first?”

“I said I would bury them.”

Miri noticed aloud that the coffee was cooling and took the last two cups to Alyster’s quarters. She wasn’t sure he would be there, but he hadn’t been on deck, and she couldn’t see him moving into anyone else’s rooms unless his were truly uninhabitable. In case he was asleep, she tapped lightly with a fingertip.

“Come in,” he called. Miri pushed the door open and stood where she was, looking in disbelief at the dining room.

Alyster had cleared a path from the outer door through the dining room so he could reach his bunk. The bedroom wasn’t in bad condition other than the nails in the door, but the dining room was strewn with broken glass, smashed plates and torn paper that he had kicked aside. Miri didn’t seem to see the path he’d made, though.

“Is anything in here still in one piece?” she asked.

“The bed,” Alyster said without thinking. He had been lying on it, too tense to sleep, but when he heard his own reply, he sat up quickly. She might think it was a hint or an invitation of some sort, which was probably the last thing she needed or wanted.

“Here, I’ll take that.” Leaving the bedroom door wide open, he crossed the dining room to her. “Don’t start picking anything up. You need some rest too.”

“I won’t—not yet, anyway.” Miri took the second cup, but paused with it halfway to her mouth. “Your kithar…”

“If we win the race I’ll buy another. I mean, when.”

Miri sipped her coffee, though she seemed to be doing so without realizing what she held, and she looked at everything except him. Alyster set the empty tray down, shut the outer door, then felt he should explain he hadn’t done it to have some privacy with her.

“I don’t want the cat coming in here and cutting its feet,” he said.

She met his eyes then. “He’s dead.”

“What?”

“Ralcilos threw him overboard. Said it’s bad luck to have cats on a ship.”

Brandy hadn’t exactly been a fierce ratter—more of an amiable dunderhead who preferred table scraps any day of the week—but he hadn’t deserved that kind of death. Alyster’s fingers tightened on the handle of his cup. Even his kithar didn’t seem so bad in comparison.

Leaning against the doorframe, he drank his coffee. “Thank you for making this.”

“You’re welcome.” She cradled her cup in both hands as if to warm her palms.

Enough stalling
. “I’m sorry I cut you,” he said. She’d changed her shirt, but he remembered too vividly the bloodstains on the one she had worn. “I just couldn’t think of any other way to rattle him than to make him think I was prepared to kill you both.” And maybe when next he slept, he wouldn’t dream Ralcilos had seen through the ploy and had thrown her forward so she was spitted on his sword, the dying weight of her body transfixing the weapon for the second the Tureans needed to take him down.

“That was definitely rattling,” Miri agreed, but a corner of her mouth curved up, and her gaze was soft enough that he knew she’d forgiven him already. He wished he could make it up to her in another way, but the arm’s-length distance between them felt like an entire sea.

“How are you now?” he said.

She raised a hand as if to touch her face, but her fingertips hovered just above the thin reddened ridge that traced the line of her jaw. “There’ll be a scar to match this, but I don’t mind either. At least this one might make me look less like Jash Morender.”