I made my way through the ship to the central hatchway of the gundeck, where a grating covered with canvas let in the barest shred of lanternlight, sound, and the occasional gust of wind to lift its edges.I wasn’t the only one to shift here—Charles already loitered in the dim space, along with a dozen crewmembers and Poverly, the steward’s girl.
Not one of them, spoke and Poverly put a finger over her lips at my approach.I lightened my steps and came to stand near Charles, just out of the light.
“What’s happening?”I asked, so low I thought I might have to repeat myself.
“The Meres dropped anchor,” Poverly returned.
“They ran up the white and gold,” Mr.Penn added, sidling closer to me.His cap had slipped up on his bald scalp, forming an impish point, and the irregular shape of his ears—the tops lost to frostbite over the Stormwall—were on full display.Ten or so crewfolk loitered about him, pistols and knives discreetly shoved under their coats.
“The white and gold?”Charles repeated.“Sorry, forgot my Mereish flags.”
“Meanin’ peaceful intent,” Poverly interjected, joining our little cluster.I’d noticed her watching Charles a little too keenly since we left Tithe, but I’d been fourteen once too, and Charles was an attractive man.
“Hush,” another woman hissed.
We fell silent.Muffled voices came to us through the canvas-shrouded grating, and I recognized Samuel’s rumble and cadence, though his words were obscured.
“Pov, here, child,” the other woman beckoned.
Poverly complied reluctantly at first, then more quickly once the woman crouched with her hands laced into a stirrup.One of the other crewmen did the same, and together they boosted the girl up to the edge of the grating.The assembly gathered close with bated breath and straining ears.
“I can’t hear them,” Poverly complained.“You’re being too loud.”
“Oh, aye, I’ll just stop breathing, then,” the woman holding her up grumbled.
I retreated into the shadows and placed a bare hand on the nearest post.Everyone present knew I wasghiseau, but that didn’t mean I intended to flaunt my condition or its benefits.
Tane’s presence shivered down my fingers and into the wood as a subtle, glowing thread of spectral flesh passed up into the deck above.
Words slipped into my mind, muffled but discernable.Images came too, hedged with an odd, luminescent quality that I’d learned was how Tane always saw the world.It was something like Samuel’s Sooth Sight, but subtler, more sensitive, and pervasive.He saw the signposts; she saw the feet that had trodden the path.
Charles gave me a sideways look then stepped in front of me to block the crew’s view.Mr.Penn peered at us and tugged his cap back into place.
Above, Samuel stood by the rail and spoke across the water in Mereish.I didn’t speak the language but Tane did, and her translation came to me a breath delayed.
“… too kind,” Samuel’s voice said, with a hint of deflection.“Though the hour is very late, perhaps I might extend our own hospitality to you in the morning?”
“Nonsense,” came a more distant reply, masculine and flippant, distinctly Mereish.“Men such as we should not be slaves to the sun, and it’s been an age since I had word from a free port.Come.Join me.”
I caught my breath.
A tense silence.Tane caught the expression on Samuel’s face as he looked across the water, composed but not altogether calm.The other captain was pressuring him.He knew it and let his irritation show.
Still, he inclined his head.“It would be my pleasure.We will join you presently.”
THE SPRING TIDES—Commonly and erroneously referred to as the Black Tides, given that they take place under the darkness of the moon, the two highest tides of spring are significant on numerous levels, but, for the purpose of this study, the most significant is this: their occurrence marks a thinning in the division between the human world and that of the Other, creating the ideal circumstances for various religious practices, including the amplification of mages.
This is even more true of the real Black Tides, from whom the common name was plundered.However, these occur far more rarely and lie beyond the permissions and knowledge of this humble commentator.
—FROMA DEFINITIVE STUDY OF THE BLESSED: MAGES AND MAGECRAFT OF THE MEREISH ISLES,TRANSLATED FROM THE MEREISH BY SAMUEL I.ROSSER
TEN
Jessin Faucher
SAMUEL
The main cabin aboard Jessin Faucher’sMiaghis—which translated rather dramatically toThe Red Tempest—was small, considering the size of the forty-eight-gun warship.It stretched across the width of the stern, bulkheads spread with neatly spaced charts, maps and diagrams, giving more the sense of a professor’s office than a captain’s quarters.Books were arrayed on shelves, caged so as not to fall with the roll of the ship, and the central stove in its iron cradle kept the air warm, dry and welcoming.The scent of the fire mingled with beeswax, tobacco smoke and citrus, pleasantly overtaking the usual salt-and-damp scent of ship.
