Shi’chen shook his head. “No,” he said. “We need to get him out from under the crate.” He vaguely remembered a conversation with A’bbni, maybe a year ago, when his brother had learned that an extremity being crushed could result in organ failure if the person was not promptly un-trapped. He couldn’t remember how long it was, but he already knew they were losing precious minutes.
His eyes roamed over the boxes that were supporting each other. “If we can lever that up just enough, we should be able to pull him out without that whole pile coming down.” He pointed to the half-goblin woman. “Grab his arms. As soon as I tell you, pull as hard as you can, and drag him as far back as you can, got it?” She nodded numbly. Shi’chen turned to the two elves. “Don’t push it,” he warned, “or that is coming down. Just lift straight up. Once Jaa’jen is free, go that way.” He pointed toward the back of the tumble of boxes where the woman would drag Jaa’jen.
The two elves nodded, and Shi’chen moved over by the box that pinned Jaa’jen, digging his fingers under it. The elves squatted next to him, sliding their fingers in, too. Shi’chen glanced over his shoulder at the half-goblin woman to make sure she was ready, then turned to the elves. “On three,” he said, taking a deep breath. With a quick count, he put all his strength into lifting the crate up. He felt Jaa’jen jerk, and then the goblin’s mangled leg slid past him. “Drop and back up on three,” he said. On three, the crate hit the deck with a crunch, and all of them back-pedaled quickly. One of the other boxes being supported by the angled one suddenly slid, and Shi’chen tackled the dark-haired man out of the way as the box hit the floor with a crash and the sound of glass shattering. He threw up his hand to block the dust that went flying, momentarily blinding him, the reverberation of the box hitting the floor going through him like a wave hitting him in the chest.
After a moment, he looked around. The five of them were against the pile of boxes at the back of the space, but none of them were trapped under any of them, at least. Jaa’jen was pale, his leg a mess of blood and tattered fabric. Shi’chen wished A’bbni was there; his brother would know what to do to help him. “Stay here,” he said to the group, moving over to carefully pull himself up onto one of the box piles that seemed fairly sturdy. He could see the crew where the boxes had initially fallen, still working to try to secure cargo, and he caught Lai’s eye to give him a nod before turning to survey the rest of the area. If they could get over the boxes he balanced on, the rest of the cargo hold was intact, with walkways and another stairwell at the other end.
He leaned over the boxes to the four sailors below. “Come on,” he said, holding out his hand to the half-goblin woman. She took his hand, and he pulled her up. She scrambled up over the box edge. “Can you two hand him up to us?” he asked, holding out his hands toward Jaa’jen. The two elves pulled Jaa’jen to his feet – well, foot, Shi’chen realized dryly – and he reached up trembling arms to them. Shi’chen grabbed his wrist and locked his hands around it, and he and the woman pulled Jaa’jen up onto the box. The woman jumped down on the other side, and Shi’chen shifted to slide Jaa’jen down by his arms into hers, Jaa’jen’s massive bulk straining his muscles as he carefully lowered him down. The goblin grunted as the woman caught him and laid him heavily on the wood floor.
Shi’chen turned as the elven man gave the girl a foot lift with his hands, and Shi’chen grabbed her and pulled her up, and then they pulled the man up with them. The boxes wobbled, and Shi’chen held his breath, but they settled again, and the three carefully made their way down the pile to the path. Without prompting, they all slid their hands under Jaa’jen and lifted him up, carrying him across the hold and up the stairs.
The sunlight blinded him when they hit the deck, and Shi’chen had never been so glad to inhale sea air. Once Jaa’jen had been set down, he doubled over, breathing hard, leaning on the stair railing. Several people ran over, but Shi’chen barely noticed them. Jaa’jen and the two others were whisked away toward the physician’s quarters, and the female elf stumbled over to a half-goblin man who might have been her boyfriend. Shi’chen lowered himself to sit on the top step, burying his face in his grimy hands and trying to calm his racing heart.
He didn’t know how long he sat like that before someone sat down next to him and put a hand lightly on his shoulder. It was Lai. “Hey. You all right?”
“Yeah,” Shi’chen mumbled into his hands. “You?”
“I’m fine,” Lai said. “You sure you’re all right? Do you need to see the physician?”
“No. No, I’m fine,” Shi’chen insisted, pulling his hands away from his face to look into Lai’s eyes. The half-elf wore the same concerned look that A’bbni wore when Shi’chen injured himself. “I’m fine,” he repeated again. “Just… a little shaken, is all.”
Lai nodded, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “That was pretty impressive, Captain.”
“Is he going to be all right?” Shi’chen asked, taking the handkerchief that Lai pulled out of his pocket and offered him, wiping at his face with slightly trembling hands.
Lai shrugged a bit, looking more melancholy than Shi’chen had ever seen him look. “Hard to say. That kind of injury can do a lot of damage. He at least has a chance because you got him out so fast.” He sighed and tossed his hair back. “But this is going to delay us. When the ship has an accident like this, the captain heads to the nearest port for medical attention and to do an evaluation of the inventory.”
Shi’chen felt his stomach sink. “How long will that take?”
“A couple days at least, maybe more,” Lai said sympathetically.
Shi’chen groaned and swiped at his face with the handkerchief again. “Dammit…”
“We have a couple options,” Lai said. “Once we land, we can leave if you want, and travel to Csereth on our own. Otherwise, we can wait.”
“How far are we from Csereth?”
“Nearest port is Genhin’saa, so four days or so by horse.”
Shi’chen swore under his breath and swiped a couple strands of hair out of his eyes. He knew sailing was dangerous, and he could hardly be mad at the crew for the accident, but it was one more step that was going to keep him away from his brother longer. “I don’t know,” he groaned.
“We’ll figure it out,” Lai said, and Shi’chen found himself oddly grateful that Lai had said ‘we’ and not ‘you.’ Lai was not planning to abandon him.
Deana’nen suddenly strode up to them. “Cha’she,” she said, and Shi’chen jumped at the unexpected name, turning to her.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good work,” she said, holding out her hand. He took it, and she gave it a firm squeeze. “Jaa’jen is asking for you.”
“For me?” Shi’chen asked in surprise. Deana’nen nodded, and Shi’chen followed after her, Lai trailing him, to the physician’s quarters.
The elven man and the half-goblin woman were sitting on benches and talking softly with several of the senior crew, their wounds having been bandaged. Deana’nen moved further into the room, gesturing them over to where Jaa’jen lay on the long examination table. His pants leg had been torn away, but the physician had draped a white sheet over him so no one could see his injuries. His goblin-gray skin was oddly pale, sweat beaded on his face and neck. The rise and fall of his chest was uneven. When Shi’chen approached, his yellow eyes opened, a little unfocused, and Shi’chen realized he probably had been given something for the pain.
“Hey, pup,” Jaa’jen said, his voice rough as Shi’chen and Lai stopped by his side.
Shi’chen had no idea what to say, so he simply asked, “How are you doing?”
“Hurts like a motherfucker,” Jaa’jen grunted, but then he gave a small smile, and Shi’chen found himself smiling back. “Look, kid, I’m not good at apologies. But I wanted to say thank you.”
