“Please, Your Majesty, stop saying that word!” Daiya wailed dramatically.
I laughed at Daiya's theatrics and Jucai's confusion. To Jucai, I said, “It calls to mind disturbing imagery for some people.”
“Does it?” Jucai looked at his guards.
They shrugged.
“I think the term is humid,” I said.
“It's not humid.” Jucai waved his hand. “Humid implies wet heat and discomfort. Our air is fresh, with a hint of water that keeps our skin soft. Do you not agree?”
“I do. You're right, but I still think it's the wrong word. Perhaps you could try cool. The air is cool.”
“I suppose hearing the M-word wouldn't affect people who live underwater.” Diaya stopped before a door and knocked.
A few moments later, a human man with dark eyes that darted over all of us answered the door. “What do you want?”
“Hello, Mr. Hadren.” Diaya motioned to us. “This is Lord Nadar of His Majesty's court, King Jucai of Ilshi, and the King's guards. They'd like to ask you a few questions about the attack on the Blue Heron.”
Those darting eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“There was magic residue found onboard,” I said. “The men you saw were not Sea Dragons.” I motioned to the King. “And these Sea Dragons mean you no harm; you have my word. We are just trying to find out why someone would impersonate them.”
Mr. Hadren frowned, his hand coming up to scratch his chest. “Not Sea Dragons? But they looked like these guys.”
“It was an illusion,” Claw Mahdred said. “May we come in?”
Mr. Hadren grimaced, looked over his shoulder, and then out at the hallway. “I guess there's a little more room in here.” He stepped back.
We passed a tiny kitchen that opened onto a living room. Beyond it was a balcony. A chair propped the balcony door open, letting in the breeze. Through another open door, I caught sight of an unmade bed and a half-empty bottle on the floor beside it.
“Have a seat.” Mr. Hadren waved at a ragged couch and sat on the chair that held the balcony door open.
Jucai settled on the couch as if it were a throne, one leg cocked out to the side and an arm propped on his knee. I sat beside him, closest to the sailor. Meanwhile, Jucai's guards spread out as much as they could, one going out onto the balcony.
Mr. Hadren watched them with amusement and then looked at me. “Well, what do you want to know?”
“Do you remember what the ship that attacked you looked like?” I asked.
“Already told him.” He motioned to Diaya.
“Yes, and I read the report, but it was a general description. What I'm wondering is if it's difficult to remember specifics?”
Mr. Hadren leaned back and lifted his gaze in thought. “Yes, it is. I remember vague things like the number of masts it had, but that's it. It's all a little fuzzy.” He blinked. “Wait! I see it now! There was a figurehead at the forepeak. It was . . .” He frowned.
“Close your eyes,” I suggested. “Take your time. Just relax and let it come. Don't push it.”
Mr. Hadren closed his eyes. We waited, watching his eyes move beneath their lids. His lips parted. His hands spread on his thighs. Then his eyes popped open. “A dog! It was a dog. No, a wolf! The figurehead was a wolf leaping, jaws open.”
“A wolf?” I looked at Diaya. “That's uncommon.”
Diaya grinned. “It’s probably why they hid the ship with magic.”
“I don't think they hid it. If they had, Mr. Hadren wouldn't remember anything. I think they cast a blurring spell or maybe one that diverts attention. But the mind holds images long after spells wear off. That's why I advised him not to force the images to come. It's easier to remember when you don't try to.”
“How do we find this wolf ship?” Jucai asked.
“Try the docks,” Mr. Hadren said. “There must be sailors who have seen it.”
