I felt the chimeric wash through my skin and along my fingers as runes glittered down the side of the hull. I leaned over, watching as plank by plank, splinter by stave, the boards began to knit together. It was a miracle, and it had come from me.
I leaned farther.
“Blue,” came a voice.
My head spun, and I wiped my brow with a trembling hand. I couldn’t feel it. Not my head, not my hand, not my toes. They were all tats and needles, buzzing with light and heat and rune.
“Blue, you need the doc? Blue?”
Slowly, I turned my head to see Neale standing before me, Thom and Bergy at his flanks. They were twisting, bending, as if made of taffy. I could see the bones in their bodies. I could hear the blood in their veins.
I staggered, and Neale grabbed my arm but yelped as the chimeric flared at his touch. I didn’t care. I wanted the water. I needed the sea. I turned and leaned back over the rail.
“Get the captain,” said Neale. “Quick!”
I could see fishes below us and eels and sharks. I could see the runes between them all, rocking the water and bending the waves. I could see right down to the depths of the locker, to the bottom of the Old Sand. Our Mother the Sea calling, promising warmth and magik and runes and peace.
Runechaser.I needed it. I needed, so I reached…
Home.
“Forge, she’s going over…”
A flash of white and daggers now, piercing my shoulders andyanking me off my feet. White and feathers and flash and blood, and I hit the deck hard, cracking my head against the boards. Patterns ebbed and blackness flowed, and I knew there were voices, but I couldn’t hear a sound. The last things I remembered were the gold-shot eyes of Gavriel Thanavar.
17. Glorious
“Ensign Blue,” said Worley. “The captain wishes a word, if you please.”
I looked up from my bunk, where I’d been since theAuctorusthe night past. Echo had been my nursemaid for most of that time, checking my bandages, bringing me brine tea and biscuits, and making notes on my ever-travelling scars. As I rolled out of the hammock, I had to hold the ropes while my head spun anew.
There was no rocking. There was no sway.
TheTouchstonehad entered the Hall of Silence.
“On deck or in his cabin?” I asked, surprised I had a voice.
“He’s here, Ensign Blue.” He gestured with his hand. “In the galley.”
“Here? Now?”
“Shall I tell him it’s a bad time?”
“No,” I said. “No, I’m just surprised.”
“Welcome to the Ship of Spells,” he said, then disappeared from my little corner of the galley.
In vain, I tried to assemble my kit. I was only in breeches and tunic, no waistcoat or sash, and I was grabbing for my boots as the captain stepped in.
I froze like a rabbit, one foot in the air.
The ceiling was low for him, and he clasped his hands behind his back, bending a little at the waist to keep his hair from catching the boards. His eyes darted around, as if seeing this place for the very first time. He took another step but caught himself and reached down to pick up a handful of fabric. He held it out to me, and I snatched it from his hand.
“My sash,” I said quickly and began to wrap it around my waist. Suns, this man was so imposing that he made my little corner feel but a crag.
“At ease, Ensign,” he said. “I merely wanted to check on you.”
“I’m fine, sir,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting—”
