“Well here ye be,” Harey Karey said, grinning, as she walked out from between the boxes. This was probably the first time he'd seen her smile this widely, and he noticed that she was missing a few teeth. “The hero o' the hour. Ye did a swell job on the engines, Miss, and I've been instructed to show ye to yer quarters. Shall we step lively now?”
Threadbare reached out and patted Jean's hand, where it was sticking out from between the bars—
—and unexpectedly, Jean's hand twisted and gripped his paw.
Jean's eyes widened.
“I'll see you later. Be careful,” Threadbare told her, and hoped, very much hoped that Renny's illusions had fooled her. But he didn't know how strong they were.
Confusion warred with despair in her red eyes, and then Jean turned away, folding her knees to her chest and clasping her arms around them.
“Lover's quarrel?” Karey asked.
“Not exactly,” Threadbare said, and folded her own arms. “And that's a bit rude.”
“Sorry. Didn't mean a thing by it. Pirates be a little more casual about intimate questions. Secrets be hard to keep among a crew when you're at sea.” Harey turned, and walked towards the doorway, glancing over her shoulder. Her spectacles flashed in the light of the glowstones, reflecting off her spectacles and making her eyes look solid for a second.
After glancing at Jean one last time, Threadbare followed. And Renny pattered along behind them, a few feet back from Threadbare.
The slim, black-haired beastkin led them through the ship, cutting through the cannon deck which now stunk of powder and heated metal, and up to the forecastle room. “Let me show ye the amenities,” Karey said, unlocking the door and bowing, waving Threadbare in with one hand.
Something about her tone seemed a little tense. “I've gone through here before. Stormanorm waas kind enough to give me a tour.”
“Ah, but I doubt he showed ye everything,” Karey smiled.
Threadbare took a good hard look inside. Nobody was waiting to ambush him, at least not that he could see. So he walked in, and slid to the side, letting Renny follow him into the open space.
Immediately after the fox walked in, Karey took the other side, and shut the door behind her, locking it with a few quick motions. Then she strode to the wall, flipped open a panel to reveal a sink and a toilet, and turned the water on from the tap.
“We don't be havin' much time,” she said, turning to Threadbare. “Let's talk, you and I.”
“All right. But I'm a little confused. Why couldn't we talk outside?”
“Because it's to do with secrets, and those be hard to keep on a ship. I thought I'd been over that?”
She was tense, but her face was smooth. Too smooth. She was concealing her feelings. This really didn't seem like an ambush, but Threadbare felt a stir of worry in the back of his mind. “What sort of secrets?”
“Like how I've caught that little wood fishman lookin' at things, or standin' like regular people do sometimes. Then he catches himself and slips back to actin' like any other golem. He's more than he seems, I'm thinkin'.”
Threadbare tensed. He'd been worried about that. Glub had good Charisma, but he wasn't always the wisest person around. And most rabbit beastkin were exceptionally perceptive. “And what do you think he is?” Threadbare asked.
“Don't know. But there's a brain in there. Could be ye had one of them soulstones that you used to make that golem. Could be ye watch through his eyes sometimes. I've heard tell Animators do that sort o' thing. Either way, it's something I should be telling me Captain about.”
Threadbare looked around the empty cabin. The curtains had been taken down. He willed his Scents and Sensability skill to activate, and took a breath or two. There were no unfamiliar scents here, unless a Sensate was hiding them with olfactory illusions.
“And what happens then?” he asked.
“Why speculate about something that might never happen?” Karey made an exaggerated shrug.
“You just said... ah, wait, there was a should in there,” Threadbare cocked his head. “So what would make this not happen?”
Karey grinned her gap-toothed grin. “Yer help, when the time comes.”
“I'm going to need more information than that,” Threadbare told her.
Karey grimaced, and knelt down, peering through the keyhole of the door. Then she covered it with her hand, and lowered her voice. “Mutiny.”
“Ah,” Threadbare said, as things fell into place.
“Don't think I've given ye anything by tellin' ye this,” Karey said, leveling a stern gaze. “She already knows I plan it someday. Just maybe doesn't know I've moved the timetable up some.”
“I've seen her fight,” Threadbare said. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“It's not a matter o' it being a good idea,” Karey said, eyebrows drawing together, anger flushing her skin under her thin fur. “It's a matter of it bein' that or death. Do ye know why we've lost so many crew on this trip?”
“This isn't normal?”
“Bah! Hell no it ain't!” She caught herself as her voice rose, and brought it down again, as she knelt to put her head closer to Threadbare. “The trip across the ocean, the journey inland, the fight with that dragon... y'know what it's cost us?”
“Lives?” Threadbare asked.
“Gold!” she snapped. “And THAT cost us lives.”
“Can you explain?”
“Ye know why Pirates be so greedy for gold? Tis because one half of our required job be Mercenary. And what do Mercenaries do with gold, or any coin really?”
Threadbare's mind flashed back to his first boss fight, alongside Garon. To how they would have died horribly if he hadn't gotten his hands on the treasure chest. “They use it to heal themselves. Instantly,” Threadbare said.
“Aye,” Karey said, and ran her fingers along the gaps in her teeth. “Three times she's shifted pain my way, this trip. Three times I had to burn one of me gold teeth to keep from bein' maimed or worse. But I'm runnin' low. And I was one o' the richer ones out o' the crew. We're all low. And she ain't givin' us time to scavenge up more. Even in the dungeon, we had to focus on them engine parts... she threatened death to any who got greedy o'er common treasure.”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“The crew took some of Midian's jewelry and things,” Threadbare pointed out.
“Some, aye. But a lot of those are magical. Blood is Gold only works on nonmagical treasure. The point is not only are we stretched thin, we be short of materials to keep us alive. And Anne is hellbent on finishing this job. So if she doesn't change, if she be bound to this course, we'll have to rise up or be slowly carved down to our gizzards.”
“When?” Threadbare asked.
“When I call it. Not before. Now. Be ye in, or do I go and have me a chat with Anne about your wooden poppet?”
“You leave me little choice,” Threadbare said, looking down. “But in return, I want a bit more.” This was a bargaining trick he'd learned from dealing with the Council. Concede, then add a condition to the concession.
“And what do ye ask, lady?” There was that gap-toothed grin again. But her tension had eased, just a bit.
“Protect him as well as you can. Don't let Anne throw his life away. I want him taken care of, or the deal's off.”
“Simple enough. I'd lose me leverage over ye if I didn't.” Karey shrugged. “Consider it done.”
They shook on it, and she left happy.
Threadbare was a bit less so.
“Can we trust her?” Renny whispered, a few minutes later.
“No,” Threadbare said, plainly. “This just buys us time.”
“Less than you think,” Midian said.
Renny and Threadbare jumped in the air, and whirled to stare at the previously-empty bunk. There was an elf there now, lying still as death, staring at the ceiling.
“How did...” Threadbare could smell her, now. Thin, fruity odors that indicated elfyness, combined with sweat, and just a hint of madness. “You weren't there a second ago,” Threadbare said.
“No, but I was here an hour ago, and I decided to skip ahead,” Midian said. “She can't trust you completely either, you realize that? Her best move is to strike at the next opportunity before you find a way around her tenuous bargain.”
“You're sounding better,” Renny asked, suspiciously.
“When I move between the seconds it takes a little while for me to catch up to myself. The Tower loses... sync. Yes. I can think as me. The me that's here. And not... her.”
“And you did this just to tell me not to trust her?” Threadbare approached, putting his paws on her arm. She felt hot and thin, and there was a vibration to her that could have been the flight of the airship, but felt like it was coming from within her very bones.
“No,” Midian said. “I came to warn you that... hang on. Which timeline is this? Which world is this?” She shook her head. “No, I need to focus. As much as I can. I came to warn you... there's... another. Like me. Unlike me. He's a threat. You're going to be of interest to him.”
“Why?”
“Because of how you were... born.”
“Well I wasn't. Not exactly.”
“And that makes all the difference.” Midian squeezed her eyes shut. “If he'd just given me the damned mirror we could have fixed this by now. But you can't trust him. Make sure you don't make that mistake.”
“I'm sorry, this is all very confusing,” Threadbare told her.
There was no reply. Her eyes were shut, and the strange vibration seemed to slow.
“Ultimately we're selfish creatures,” Midian burst out, seconds later. Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up. “Where are we? When are we? Wotsatime? Oh, there we go.”
“Maybe it is time for you to go...” Renny said, padding over to the door and cracking it open.
“What? No. I live here now,” Midian said, and rolled over. “You can stay here too I guess. The dragons can't get to us here. Not yet.”
Threadbare looked at Renny, and shook his head. “I'm going up on deck,” he decided. “That way we can at least keep an eye on Karey.”
Renny had no objections, and the two of them left the confusing elf to her mad reverie.
It was cold up in the heights, cold as they navigated around and over the snowy mountains. The night was as dark as pitch, but the moon shone brightly, and the stars were a myriad of millions of diamonds spilled on an obsidian tray.
Almost the full crew was up, perhaps ten beastkin all told, with Stormanorm in the rigging, and Anne at the wheel. Karey was stalking the deck, tying down ropes and giving people tasks; she paused to nod at him as he came up through the hatch.
To his surprise, he saw Gaston, the lop garou clambering in the rigging. He was clumsy and scowling, but he was helping. It truly had been an all-hands-on-deck situation.
Perhaps it still was. Two of those engines were still questionable, and if they lost even one, then it'd be another crash landing at best, and a simple crash at worst. But just as he was turning to go down into the hold again, Anne's voice cut through the wind.
“There she be! The lady o' the hour! Come up to me office, let's have us a chat.”
“Your... office?” Threadbare asked, climbing the stairs up to where she stood behind the wheel.
“The wheelhouse be me office. Old joke. Don't fret or sweat none. So I'm guessing you know what the fire and fury and suchlike was?”
“I do,” Threadbare nodded.
“Aye. 'Twas yer friends, come to try and rescue ye. They crept pretty close to us, afore we noticed 'em. Why, if ye hadn't gotten the engines up and runnin' at literally the last minute, we would have been fightin' us a boardin' action.”
Threadbare said nothing, as she turned her head and glanced down at him, eyes shrewd and narrow.
“Thing is...” Anne said, after a bit, “they found us right quick. We're far out in the wilds, here. And I'm dead certain a few of'em were using Camouflage. That means Scouts. And Scouts means that the wind's a whispering all over the place. And if I were to be a plannin' a rescue mission, why I'd be usin' me Scouts to let me target know I was comin' ta save them.”
Threadbare nodded. “They did.”
“So the timing weren't an accident... but why?” Anne squinted at him. “Why not scuttle the engines? Why not come up and fight yer way out, or try to help'em take the Cotton Tale? The second we fired on yer friends, I figured ye'd be roaring up to save'em... I know it ain't cowardice, I've taken yer measure little Lady, and it's not THAT which held ye back...”
Threadbare knew that there was no chance of lying here. One mistake and she'd never trust him again. He wasn't accomplished enough to bluff Anne, not with the added strain of already pretending to be Celia.
So the truth would have to do.
“My real problem isn't with you. You're just the ones who got hired to kidnap one doll haunter and hand her over to a stranger. I need to take this matter up with the stranger. Killing or stopping you doesn't help me with that. In fact, it hinders it, and just means he'll try to do this again, and next time he might hire someone who will do worse things before we stop them.”
Anne listened, barely blinking, nodding at Threadbare's words.
“Aye,” she said. “There be savvy, there. Stab to the head, not to the hands. Even such fierce and fine hands as we be.”
She nodded again, eyes looking away, before grinning wide, gold teeth front and center. “Yer friends don't feel the same, do they? I've met that little bear o' yours. I get the feeling if the world were in the way o' his goal, he'd get a shovel and dig his way through.”
“He is very stubborn,” Threadbare said, ruefully. “Golems get very focused on the things they have to do.”
“Fear not,” Anne's hand clapped a few inches above Threadbare's head, and he realized that Anne was slapping him on Cecelia's illusory shoulder. “I'll not slay him. This I vow to ye. Worst I'll do is take him prisoner for a time.”
“Thank you,” Threadbare sighed. “That's a relief.”
“Karey, take the wheel!” Anne bellowed, shoving her hand a bit. Threadbare barely reacted in time, stumbling back a step and realizing she was trying to move him to the stairs down off the wheelhouse. He walked down, and Anne followed, her tone amiable. She almost seemed comradely now. “Ye've got the run o' the ship. I trust ye now, not to try anything until the job's done. And once yer delivered and we be paid, our part is done, so ye do what ye like then and it's none of our affair. Savvy?”
“Savvy,” Threadbare agreed.
“Just keep me engines going and help out as ye can. Yer not crew... not quite there, but yer not a... 'guest,' anymore. Be there anything you want?”
“Can you turn Jean loose? I need to talk to her about your employer. I think she'd be more likely to do that when she's out of her cage.”
“Her would-be suitor would hate that,” Anne said, glancing up at Gaston, who was sourly hanging from the rigging and trying to tie ropes with clumsy fingers. “So I'll do it. While we're in the sky, anyway. When we're in port she stays caged.”
“It's better than what she's got now, so thank you,” Threadbare told her.
Anne burst out laughing as they walked up to the bow of the ship. He glanced up at her, to find her grinning down, entirely relaxed, and with genuine humor in her eyes.
Your Adorable skill is now level 93!
“I like ye, Lady Cecelia. Ye got a good heart and a good head. Let's be friends, ye and me!” she knelt, and held out her hands.
Threadbare took them, fitting the illusory porcelain fingers into her fuzzy digits with trepidation, but a glance back showed Renny right there, and Anne said nothing, so the illusion was probably holding.
And when he looked, he also saw Harey Karey at the wheel, but she wasn't looking ahead into the night sky.
Magnified by her spectacles, her eyes were fixed on the two of them, burning with intensity and suspicion...