Inti’s Watcher, Common Area

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Sophie curtseyed to Nali, a Korean woman wearing a gorgeous green and gold silk dress. Nali bowed back, looking over Sophie’s outfit. Sophie hadn’t felt self-conscious about wearing trousers until this moment. A good portion of the women in the room weren’t wearing skirts, and it didn’t bother anyone, but seeing Nali’s dress made Sophie want to melt into the background.

Ebba smirked. “It’s not the dress,” she told Sophie. “After years of feeling underdressed around Nali every single day, I’ve decided there’s something in her soul that makes everyone feel inferior. It’s very helpful for demoralizing other teams.”

“It’s not on purpose,” Nali said, her voice like honey. “I just like to look my best.”

“I feel demoralized already,” Marie said, impressed.

Nali bowed slightly to Marie. “I’m sorry.”

Louis laughed, then motioned to the fourth member of their team, a tall black man in a tunic. “And this is Asani.”

“Greetings,” Asani said, shaking everyone’s hand.

Miyamoto almost acted like he’d never experienced a handshake before. Nali laughed at that.

Louis beamed at Sophie. “Now may I learn your name?”

“Sophie,” she said, glancing at Marie.

“Ah, thank you. And you?” he asked, turning to Miyamoto.

He bowed slightly. “Miyamoto Razan.”

“Which one of those is your given name?” Ebba asked. “The rostari don’t use family names, so no one here does, either.”

There was a pause before he answered. “Razan.”

Nali looked almost pleased at his discomfort. “Don’t worry, Razan, after a few months it won’t bother you.”

“Thank you,” he said, glaring.

Louis coughed politely. “Now that you’ve met the most important group here, let’s introduce you to…” He looked around the room, frowned, then smiled. “You should meet Rani’s group, the Stars. They didn’t compete this week, so you won’t have seen them on the wall.”

“They didn’t?” Sophie asked.

“They’re all from hot climates,” Ebba said, starting to walk. “Not competing was a good choice.”

Sophie nodded, remembering the cold. She paused, seeing the group that had come in second. “Are they the Masks?”

“Leave them alone,” Asani said, frowning. “They’re the most popular group with the rostari. If they decide they don’t like you, you’ll suffer for it.”

“They never take their masks off, and no one knows their names,” Nali whispered. “It’s very mysterious.”

Sophie looked them over. Their team colors were black and grey, which only added to the mystery in this room full of color. The person facing away was wearing a beekeeper’s outfit. Next to them was a person wearing a full diving suit. Talking to the beekeeper was someone in a Venetian carnival outfit, complete with bird mask. Lastly, there was a person in a full suit of medieval armor.

“How long have they been here?” Peter asked, watching the person in full armor.

“About five years,” Asani answered. “No one knows where the armor came from. It helps with the whole ‘no one knows anything about us’ gimmick.”

“I can imagine,” Marie said.

As they spoke, a group in sky blue and bright orange outfits walked up. The leader, a short man wearing a striped robe, bowed while twirling his hand. A Japanese woman also bowed while the other two simply waved.

“Greetings,” the leader said happily. “Welcome to the ship, and congratulations on doing well in your first contest. I am Fael, these are my Seabirds.”

Marie returned the bow. “I am Marie. Thank you for the welcome.”

Sophie waved.

Louis nodded in greeting, then glanced at Marie. “That name’s no joke. Anything involving water they win.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” Fael said, then motioned to his teammates. “This is Juan, Keiko, Grace.”

Marie introduced Sophie, Peter and Razan. Razan grimaced when she used that name, but bowed politely. Fael asked Marie how the team was getting along while Peter asked Juan where he was from. Keiko was properly introducing herself to Razan, so Sophie smiled at Grace.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

Grace grinned. “Oh, you’re from Birmingham. Can’t hide that accent. Been here four years.”

Sophie laughed. “It’s not that distinct, is it?”

“A bit. I was born there, so I’d recognize the accent a mile away,” Grace shrugged.

“Yours isn’t one I recognize, though,” Sophie said. “Where did you grow up?”

“An island we call Tasmania. I doubt you’ve heard the name.”

Sophie frowned, trying to remember. “Geography was never my strong suit. You’re right, I don’t know it. How did you die?”

Grace smirked. “Stealing jewelry from a posh bitch.”

Sophie beamed. “Me too!”

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The Stars were a younger group of contestants in dark blue and rich purple outfits. Marie admitted that everyone under the age of forty looked like children to her, but these people were all in their mid-twenties at most.

Louis introduced Marie's group first, then turned to the others. "This is Kadek, the fearless; Paola, the master of stealth; Omar, the strategist; and you've already met the lovely Rani."

Rani crossed her arms. "That's all I get? Lovely?"

"Fine," Louis said, bowing. "The lovely and utterly terrifying Rani."

"Terrifying?" Sophie and Peter asked at the same time.

Rani smiled sweetly. "Only if you underestimate me. If you don't, I'm competent."

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"That's hardly something to call a young lady, though," Louis said.

Paola, a shorter black girl with about a thousand micro braids, grinned then turned to Marie. "I was impressed none of you froze to death on the mountain. I would have. You got a hard challenge for your first time out."

"Thank you," Marie said, tuning out Louis and Rani's debate about what she ought to be called. "If we'd been up there any longer I may have died."

"The people in charge try to not repeat challenges often, but the same things do come up every few years," Omar, a tan young man in loose trousers and tunic, explained. "For nearly every challenge it's possible to find some strategy or ally to help succeed."

"Ally?" Razan asked.

"Yes, ally," Omar said. "This challenge was a race, it was you against the elements. But there are many challenges where we fight among ourselves. In those, there are several types of alliances to be made."

"They are discouraged, though, usually," Paola added. "If we're told to go out and fight, they don't want us to all shake hands and debate until someone forfeits."

"But agreeing to fight a certain group last, or to fight until first blood rather than to exhaustion, is acceptable," Omar explained.

"Ah, politics," Razan said, nodding to himself.

Omar smiled briefly. "Yes. Politics."

"I hate politics," Marie muttered. She looked at Paola. "But I do love your hair. Was it done here?"

The girl beamed. "Yes, there's a machine that does it. I can show you how it works, it’s complicated but once you sit down it's amazingly fast." She ran her fingers through elbow-length hair. "After the extensions finished braiding, it only took three hours to put them all in."

Marie was impressed. "Yes, you'll have to show me how the machine works."

Louis heard that and turned towards them. "Not yet, though," he said. "Tonight I need my old friend to myself."

"Oh, you knew each other?" Paola asked.

Marie raised her eyebrows at Louis. "We were friends?"

"Aye, we knew each other," Louis said, faltering for the briefest moment before his charm returned. "If you combine all the words for what we were, then average it out, I think we can say 'friend'."

"I'll accept that," Marie decided. She smiled at Paola. "For now I'll leave my team with yours, and go 'talk' with my 'friend'."

The girl laughed as they turned away.

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That night, after much laughter and food and new friends, Sophie went to her room and relaxed. The clock in their kitchen said it was nearly midnight, and she was tired.

"Nop?" she called.

A bird hopped out of the wall. "Yes?"

"Do you sleep?"

There was a pause. "Yes, Nop is asleep at this moment. I am Bins, in charge of night hours."

"Good to know," Sophie yawned. "Bins, could you do me a favor and wake me at one in the morning, and again at seven?"

"Of course," the metal bird said. "Although Nop returns at seven, so I'll have her wake you."

"Thank you," she said, closing her eyes.

An instant seemed to pass.

"Sophie, wake up please," Bins called.

"Hmm?" she asked.

"It's one in the morning," Bins said. She hopped onto Sophie's arm and jumped up and down. "Wake up."

"Oh, thank you," she said groggily, getting to her feet.

"You're welcome," the bird said. She hopped again, and retreated into the wall.

Sophie yawned. Before anything else, she had to wake up properly.

She left her room, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. As she was drinking, Marie came in from the common area. They looked at each other for a few seconds in surprise, then Sophie grinned.

"Young lady, what do you think you're doing, staying out so late?" Sophie asked, her voice as commanding and haughty as she could make it.

Marie smiled appreciatively, then copied the voice. "Good Lord, child, don't you know what time it is? Why are you still fully dressed?"

"You've had me worried sick. You might be kidnapped and sold to shovel coal on a pirate ship, staying out till this hour," Sophie said, setting the glass in the sink.

"Shovel coal on a ship?" Marie echoed, going to her door.

Sophie shrugged. "That's what my mother thought would happen."

"Does your mother know how ships work?"

"Not in the slightest. Good-night."

"Good-night."

Marie went into her room, and Sophie went back to hers.

She pushed her desk into place and climbed on. The screws holding the grate in the ceiling weren't tight; all she had to do was twist them with a thumb to make them fall out. She caught them and the grate, lowering everything quietly to the desk. The rope she'd put in the vent dropped out, hanging perfectly in place.

Smiling at her ingenuity, Sophie grabbed the rope and climbed in. It didn't take long for her to wiggle to the branching tunnel and the vent that showed what was outside her wall.

Nothing had changed. There was a dimly-lit corridor heading off… Sophie decided to call it west. North of her was another wall, with strange letters on it in various places. Pressing her face to the grate, she noticed pistons on either side of the doors, along with something on the ceiling that might bend the door when it got too high. Somehow. To the east was another wall, and she now knew behind it was a shop that sold various types of bread.

Seeing nothing move, Sophie gripped the screws to the grate and turned them. They moved surprisingly easily, letting her completely unscrew the grate in under a minute. She pulled it into the vent with her, dropped the rope out, and climbed down into the corridor.

Sophie snapped her fingers and heard a faint echo. She looked around for birds or other… What had Nop called them? Syomis? Watching things, whatever the case. She didn't see any.

Gaining confidence, Sophie walked west to the end of the corridor and carefully looked out. Another corridor ran perpendicular to the one she was in. It stretched off north into the darkness, but to the south there was an end. Pipes and tubes covered the walls and ceilings; some warm, some cold, and some vibrating. They were all marked with strange letters.

Most importantly, though, nothing moved. Dust covered the floor, with wheel tracks in it, but no footprints. Not even bird prints.

Sophie decided to not go far tonight. She went back to her wall and looked it over.

The big "maintenance" door had what looked like a list of details on it. She imagined the strange letters told anyone curious that this room was occupied by a woman named Sophie who was to be given red-orange things. Or something. On the wall next to the door was a panel with two buttons and a dial. The dial was set to the middle.

Sophie pushed the left button.

Quickly and silently, the door went up. It reached the ceiling and curved to move along it. When it was all the way up, it stopped.

Sophie pushed the right button, suspecting it would make the door go back down.

It did, just as silently as before.

Grinning, she turned the dial all the way to the left and pushed the button to open the door.

The door went up, and after three seconds it automatically closed.

Sophie turned the dial all the way to the right and pushed the button.

The door went up.

After ten minutes, Sophie got bored and pushed the close button.

She looked at her rope hanging from the open vent. If she could figure out a way to push the "open" button from inside her room, she wouldn't need the rope any more.

A yawn forced its way out of her. She'd figure that out another day.

Opening the door again, she got her chair and pushed it under the vent. Climbing up, she shoved the rope back until it would be within reach of the vent in her room. Then she screwed the grate back on, and put the chair back in its place.

Worried the door might stay open forever, she pushed the close button and slid into her room.

Sophie put the grate back on, put the desk in its place, collapsed on her bed, and was almost instantly asleep.

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Marie stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

Louis Goldtooth, of all people…

His real name was James Fleming; a secret she'd pried out of him one night in a rowboat on their way to Trinidad.

Of everyone she’d known who had died at sea, he was probably the best person for her to meet again. He’d never actively tried to kill her, and she’d returned the favor. Marie could name a dozen people she hoped were well and truly gone forever, but she’d always wished to meet Louis again. When she heard of his death she’d prayed for the chance to talk to him one more time.

And here he was.

Now Marie wished he’d found her, told her he was all right. But she’d been on a ship, and he probably had no way of knowing when she’d be at any given port.

Marie rolled onto her side, wondering how much she should interact with him.

In a way, she was lucky to have someone she knew here. Her team had a guide to rely on, and Louis seemed to want to help. They’d talked for hours, and he seemed happy she was here. Cautious, but happy. Still, a deep-rooted part of Marie’s soul would never let her trust anyone completely. Especially not someone with motive for revenge.

Long, long ago, she’d trusted Louis more than anyone else. In the end it had been her failing that made them part ways, and he hadn’t lived long enough for them to reconcile. He’d died still thinking she hated him.

Obviously things had changed since then. Time had healed old wounds. But had they healed enough?

Marie rolled to her other side.

She would trust him. But she’d ask her team to verify everything he said.