It was all Cali could do not to laugh out loud, but a hard thump on her back made her jump instead.
“Gert.” She looked up at the orc as she steadied her breath and her stance.
The quartermaster folded her arms across her chest. “I didn’t have high hopes for you and your dwarf friend.” She leaned closer. “Truth be told, I didn’t think either of you would survive the voyage.”
Cali stared at her. “You didn’t?”
Gert gave her a lopsided grin. “Good work proving me wrong.” Then she gave Cali another thump—this time on her arm—and strode up to the quarterdeck.
Cali tracked her with her eyes, her heart stuttering when she saw Bonnie standing at the wheel. There was nothing to steer, but Bonnie appeared to be gripping the colorful spokes firmly as she stared over Cali’s head, across the deck, and beyond the ship.
Cali knew she should go to her. She knew she should say something, anything, before she left, and they might never see each other again. But her boots felt anchored to the deck even as it swayed gently under her feet. What would she say anyway? She’d said everything the night before, hadn’t she?
The captain slowly dropped her gaze to rest on Cali, and the pantheri’s breath hitched in her throat. She managed to wrench one foot up and then another, her unusually stiff gait moving her closer to the stairs. When her foot touched the first step, Bonnie’s hands fell from the wheel.
Maybe there was more to say, Cali thought.
Then a hacking cough shattered the morning stillness, and Cali’s foot slipped off the step.
“Grognick’s beard, we’re back!”
Thrain staggered up from below deck with Bramble perched on his shoulder. He stretched his arms overhead and cleared his throat so violently that the raccoon clung to his head to keep from being shaken off.
The dwarf took long strides toward Cali, tipping his nonexistent hat to various crew members as he passed. “Guess we’d better be off then. Thanks for the hospitality.” He waved to Bonnie. “Good to sail with you, Captain. Don’t forget that you’re always welcome in Wayside.”
All hopes of having a few final moments with Bonnie were dashed as Thrain clomped to the top of the gangway and waved an arm for her to follow him. He swiveled back to Cali and grinned, hiking a thumb toward the dock. “Speaking of Wayside, look who it is!”
Forty
Cali stoodat the top of the gangway with her knapsack over one shoulder and the rolled sketch of The Cruel Mistress tucked carefully inside it and tried to make herself move. Thrain had no such trouble. He was already halfway down the ramp with Bramble riding the top of his pack, the raccoon’s striped tail curled around the dwarf’s forehead for balance.
“You two sure are a sight for sore eyes,” Thrain’s voice drifted up from the dock as he hurried toward two bulky figures standing beside a wagon loaded with wrapped bundles and iron-bound crates.
Even from a distance, Vorto and Klaff were unmistakable. Their bald green heads gleamed, and their clothes boasted the scorch marks and tears common for orcs who ran a blacksmith and wheelwright workshop. Klaff spotted Cali and raised one meaty hand in greeting.
“They’ve been waiting since we docked,” Seraphina said, materializing at Cali’s side and giving her a start.
Cali looked from the two orcs waiting patiently by their cart to the ship around her. Pinkie scampered up the mast, as Gert barked instructions for loading fresh supplies. Bonnie remained near the wheel, her dark hair lifting slightly in the harbor wind and her eye patch firmly in pace again. She wasn’t looking at the dock or at Vorto and Klaff or at the town of Eldu laid out behind them. She was looking at Cali.
Cali found it hard to speak, so she didn’t. Maybe it was better this way. Long goodbyes had never been her style. She gave the captain a small smile, then she turned away before she could change her mind and trudged down the gangway. Each step seemed heavier than the last, and when she took the last one, her chest constricted. It took every measure of self-control not to spin around and rush back up the ramp.
Luckily, the moment she stepped onto the dock, she was snatched from the world of the pirate ship and engulfed in the bustle of exotic cargo being unloaded and fresh supplies being bartered over. She sidestepped rolling carts and sailors heaving rope as she threaded her way to the orcs’ wagon. Even the bracing smells of the port town—the wood smoke from chimneys, the savory smells of cooking breakfasts, and the ever-present aroma of horse dung—reminded her she was back on land.
Before she could even greet the orcs, Vorto enveloped her in a hug that lifted her feet off the ground. When he set her down, Klaff clasped her by both shoulders and looked her over as if checking for damage.
“In one piece,” he said, satisfied.
Thrain was already thrusting his pack and a curious burlap sack toward the cart. “What’s all this, then? How did you know we were coming?”
“We happened to be in Eldu picking up tools,” Vorto said, swinging Cali’s pack into the wagon bed behind Thrain’s bundles. “When we heard The Cruel Mistress would dock today, it seemed foolish to make you take the post back.”
Vorto was already helping Thrain and Bramble into the back of the wagon while Klaff hoisted her into the front. She settled onto the buckboard while Klaff gathered the reins and Vorto swung himself into the wagon bed, settling among the crates and tools with a grunt of contentment.
Thrain had already arranged himself among the bundles and was unwrapping something from his pocket that turned out to be coconut sea lime scones that he offered to everyone as the wagon rolled forward. Klaff devoured a scone in a single bite, scattering crumbs as he declared them almost as good as Lira’s.
Cali nibbled absently on a scone as she looked over her shoulder. The Cruel Mistress sat tall at her berth, the painted swirls of her hull muted now that they were receding. Pinkie was a purple speck in the crow’s nest and Gert a smudge of green by the railing. Cali faced forward again before she could spot a dark-haired figure at the wheel.
The streets of Eldu rolled by, and the smell of saltwater thinned, replaced by peat, baked bread, and salty fried pork. Cali would have traded even the mouth-watering savory scents for the tangy brine of the ship in a heartbeat.
