“BOATS!"

Nathan skipped along the pier, ignoring stares from passerby as he went. The heavy and unmistakable scent of fish wafted from an army of fishermen hauling in their catch. Some came in rowboats while others unloaded huge nets from waddling, square-sailed tubs. Men and women scrambled like monkeys in the rigging of countless masts, alternately shouting catcalls at one another and singing that breed of music which only the hard-at-work or thoroughly drunk could enjoy.

His excitement had begun in the morning and, to Maggie's dismay, slowly built on itself as the day went on. James had appeared halfway through breakfast and informed them he'd hired a ship. Nathan had been so excited that he'd almost forgotten his guitar.

"Where is your little friend?" Maggie asked with icy patience.

"Shopping," he answered with a broad grin. "Boats, boats, boats. BOATS!"

"Why are you so excited?" Maggie hissed.

Nathan flicked his hands at one of the larger ships like a magician. "Boats! What man doesn't like boats?"

"I don't," sniffed James. "Swab the deck, clean the bilges, trim the sails, man the guns, repel the boarders. You should be chanting 'work, work, work.'"

"What I don't understand," Maggie said "is how you are so stoked about boats when these things are floating overhead." She pointed just as the sun was blotted out.

Airborne vessels had drifted across the horizon as the sun rose, racing through the air like clouds with something to prove. Most of them resembled the water-bound ships below in shape but lacked sails. Instead, shifting spars of Morseran steel flexed and rippled beneath them, seeming to skate on the wind. Nathan couldn't begin to imagine how they were staying up in the air but there was something oddly beautiful about their motion, moving in slow, dancelike arcs even as they hung in the air.

Ladders hung from many of these ships, trailing like vines as men and women clambered up and down. A few of the airships were broad, deep-hulled things too large for the docks, coming to a rest far offshore. Most of the floating ships, however, were thin and sleek, clearly designed for speed. One of these had drifted in overhead, larger than the others and sporting a crop of ceramic jugs. They hung a few feet below the hull like overripe fruit, and Nathan puzzled over them for a few minutes before realizing what they were.

Firepots.

"Eh, I never liked heights."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Boats over Morseran skiffs. You have the weirdest tastes."

Nathan smiled but said nothing, stifling the urge to laugh as James shook his head and stage-whispered in Nathan's ear "She set herself up rather grandly there, didn't she?"

"I heard that."

"The-young-master-is-entitled-to-his-opinions." A little voice chirped from Nathan's guitar case. "I have acquired the compounds, young master."

"Neat. Thanks, J." Nathan paused. "How did you get them?"

"I slipped them into my body when the merchants were not looking." A slight rustling noise came from the case as the cobbling settled into one of the pockets. "Few mortals pay mind to loose twigs."

"The very definition of boats and skiffs," James sighed. "Piles of loose twigs."

Nathan turned to James, smiling hugely. "Which one are we taking? Is it that one? Tell me it's that one." He pointed at a stately vision of smooth lines, massive sails, and polished wood. To Nathan's delight there were machines along the deck that had the wicked look of crossbows made for giants. They were mounted on swiveling platforms and surrounded by thickets of heavy, crescent-tipped bolts. Mounted on the prow was something that could only be described as a catapult, barrels stacked around the machine. Nathan had a hunch they weren't filled with wine.

"The Majesty?" James laughed. "Don't be ridiculous, I'm not made of money. Besides, that's one of the king's warships. No, I booked you passage on that nice man's boat."

Nathan looked where the aspect was pointing and found a wizened old man perching on one of the dock timbers like a monkey. He was smoking a pipe and peering shiftily at passerby, and a grubby rowboat sat in the water beneath him.

"A rowboat?"

James chuckled. "No, silly boy. That boat."

Nathan was forcibly reminded of the wyvern he’d seen yesterday. The ship had the same ungainly, dirty look of the creature, as though it had been assembled from spare parts. The sails looked too big, the crewmen too mean, and the single bolt thrower, mounted in the same place the catapult sat on the Majesty, looked as though it might fall apart at any moment.

"Looks like a pirate ship."

"Probably was once. “Maggie said.

"Pirates?" Nathan said happily, "Really? You're not joking?"

Maggie blinked. "No, I'm not."

"Awesome!" Nathan said as he brushed past, his disappointment quite forgotten. A hand settled around the scruff of Nathan's neck and hauled him backward.

"Now, now," said James. "We must get your story straight."

Maggie crossed her arms. "We don't need a story, James. We’re paying for passage, not an interrogation."

"Maggie, you will be on the boat for a week and change. Unless you plan on hiding in your cabin for the entire trip−"

"Fine!" Maggie snapped. "What would you suggest?"

James beamed. "Young newlyweds, just married and on their way to Gallowgate. Your husband here is a journeyman blacksmith, very dedicated to his blind wife. He's never been to Gallowgate, but you have family there and intend to set up shop."

"You know I can just make them believe whatever I like, right?"

"And I can ensure you won't keep your lunch down for a month." James replied. "However, I have no intention of doing so. That would be a misuse of my abilities, wouldn't it?"

Maggie gaped for a moment and then mumbled something that sounded vaguely like a concession.

"Child, there may be hope for you yet." James offered his hand to Nathan. "Nathan, do try to keep yourself out of trouble. It's too much to ask that you keep her out of it too."

Nathan took the aspect's hand with a wry smile. "Pretty sure I can do a better job with her than you did with me. Still, it's a shame you aren't coming to help."

"Help? No." The aspect leaned forward and whispered in Nathan's ear. "But she needs you. Don't tell her you know and don't let her forget." Before Nathan could reply James had straightened with his customary smile. "But you have your trip and I my work. Besides, I've no interest in spending time on a leaky, smelly, wobbly tub like that,"

"I bet you get seasick," Nathan replied, grinning. "Pestilence puking his guts out. I'd pay to see that."

James didn't dignify that with a response, instead turning to Maggie and giving her a hug. "And you take care of him. I am fond of the boy, even if he is a brat." With that, the aspect vanished.

Maggie pursed her lips, clearly puzzled. "What did he say to you?"

"Mind your own business, wife," Nathan quipped as he offered her his hand.

Maggie raised an eyebrow as she took it. "Husband, I suggest you speak nicely to me, lest I forget my good uncle's advice and leave you convinced that you are a head of cabbage."

Nathan smiled and started toward the rowboat, his gaze constantly returning to the waiting ship. The oldster hopped down from his perch and followed Nathan’s gaze. "Not too pretty, is she? Well, we will see how you like her if we meet with any pirates. They have been busy along the coast this year."

"Neat."

The coot narrowed his eyes at Nathan, taking a pull from his pipe and snorting a grimy plume into the air as he wondered whether these potential passengers were insane. After a few moments, however, the old man nodded. "Two silver notes a head and be welcome aboard the Terrapin."

Maggie pulled out a handful of coins and handed them over. "How long will the voyage take?"

"A week if the wind keeps, mayhap two. Mayhap forever if we meet with trouble." He shrugged amiably. "The sea takes as she will. Wise are they that render her due honor, whatever she may ask. Into the boat and we’ll be off."

Though small and wiry the old man drove the boat through the water like a knife, bringing them alongside the ship in minutes. Pulling up to a ladder built into the hull, the old man took hold of a rope hanging from the side of the ship and indicated Nathan should do the same, then looped the rope through a ring in the rowboat's front. Nathan followed suit in the back, and after checking Nathan's knot the old man nodded his satisfaction. Nathan made to reach for the ladder but the old man stopped him.

"Lad, before we go aboard there are things we must discuss. Aboard the Terrapin you will be fed and quartered better than the crew. However, you are still expected to earn your keep." He pointed at Maggie. "Blind as she is your woman need not work, but as an able-bodied man you will help us as you may, cleaning or cooking as you like, even tending to the rigging if there is a hand willing to teach you. You will not be asked to do more than any hand of the ship, but neither will you be allowed to do less. These are my terms, and if you don’t like them I will take you back to shore."

"Why not tell us all this on the dock and potentially save yourself a trip?"

"Needed the exercise," the old man grinned.

"Fair enough," Nathan chuckled. "Glad to help."

The old man blinked, evidently having expected an argument. “You wouldn’t rather pay extra and avoid the work, boy?"

Nathan paused. "I'd rather be kept busy. Besides, I'll hardly be working all day, will I?"

The old man considered Nathan for a moment and then offered his hand. "My name is Swalk. Sander Swalk. Call me as you like. Captain will do as well."

"Captain? Hah," Nathan took the hand and shook it. "I’m surprised you didn’t send a crewman."

"As I said, I needed the exercise." The captain scrambled up the ladder without another word.

"Odd guy," Maggie whispered. "I like his work ethic."

"You're just saying that because you’re not included in it.” Nathan retorted as he helped her to the ladder, racing the anchor up the side of the boat as the massive piece of iron clattered out of the water.

When Nathan leapt aboard the ship he was met with a rather pleasant surprise: the Terrapin only looked ramshackle from a distance. Though she was unpainted and rough-edged the ship was carefully, even lovingly maintained in function. A lowing sound came from a series of grates on the deck and inspection revealed a small herd of cows in the hold. "For the lord of Baencroft," a voice whispered in his ear. Startled, he spun and saw a girl his own age, stocky-built and a world of mischief in her eyes, dangling from the rigging like a Christmas tree ornament. "Steel from Jungston, the Reik for fun, and everything else from Wyvern's Run."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Bek! Back in the sails where you belong!" roared the captain from the wheel. The girl vanished up the rigging with one last impish smile sent dazzling Nathan's way. The old man caught Nathan's eye for a moment, then looked up again.

"Oi, Bek! How comes the sea to our hull?"

The girl's voice fell from the rigging, "Fast and eager, grandfather. The sea calls."

"Then make speed that we might answer." The crew cheered as the sails unfurled, dirty-white canvas billowing in the wind and pulling the Terrapin out to sea. Nathan threw back his head and whooped as the deck rocked beneath his feet, almost knocking him off balance. This was gonna be fun.

"So how do you see?" Nathan asked.

Nathan was exhausted, having spent the last hour coiling ropes, the hour before that helping the cook, and before that learning everything he could about the ship’s riggin’. The moment he had stowed his gear in the cabin the captain set him to work, letting him stop only for dinner. As Nathan considered the various aches he reminded himself to never again let an authority figure know he liked being kept busy.

"Mind your own business,” Maggie replied. “While you're at it, take your little twiglet and chuck him in the ocean. He talks too fast."

Maggie had vanished into their cabin as soon as she came aboard. She’d even locked the door behind him when he left to work. She might not have stayed there though. Hell, she may have gone to Burger King for all I know, Nathan thought. "What's the big deal?" he asked.

Jabberwisp skittered amongst the rafters of the cabin, gemstone heart winking as he hung down to whisper. "If-I-hypothesize-correctly-being-heir-to-the-Suicide-she-perceives-the-thoughts-of-those-around-her-young-master-I−" The cobbling ground to a sudden halt as Maggie scowled up at him. "Never mind, young master."

"Why couldn't we have left him ashore?" Maggie snapped. "He didn't need to come with us."

Nathan frowned at her. "He's here because he wants to be. Because he is a big help, and because he is my friend." He held out his hand and Jabberwisp jumped down to it, rolling down to curl up on his shoulder. "What's wrong with that?"

" There's a reason golems are destroyed on sight, you know. They’re dangerous. Can you give me an actual reason he's here?"

Nathan let a touch of annoyance bleed through his voice. Why is she being so nasty? "Bag it, grouch, and I'll show you. Did you make it, J?"

"Yes, young master!" Squeaked the cobbling, holding out a small bottle. "Two drops will suffice."

"What is that?" Maggie asked.

Nathan took the bottle and considered it. "I've been having nightmares. J thinks something is poking at my head, trying to get inside while I’m asleep. This will help keep it out."

"You shall only need it until you have attained proper mental discipline, young master, and that shouldn't take long given how quickly you progressed along the road."

"Do you even know what's in that?" Maggie looked incredulous. "Why would you take something when you don't know what it is?"

Nathan shrugged. "J, what's in this?"

The little cobbling bobbed slightly. "Nothing dangerous, young master. Mostly lichroot extract. A few other substances to give it potency, such as bark of blood pine..." Jabberwisp's voice trailed into a long list of ingredients, ending with something that sounded suspiciously like "dried-wyvern-dung."

Maggie frowned and opened her mouth. "Never mind," Nathan said before she could ask. "I don't want to know."

"Take it just before bed, young master, and your sleep should be dreamless."

Nathan peered at the bottle, grimacing as his absent pinky twinged. "How long does it last?"

"If my calculations are correct, roughly eight hours. Less, if you−"

"If it's his mind that needs defending, I can see to that," Maggie interrupted. "I broke in once and he nearly fought me off. With a bit more practice−"

Jabberwisp hopped down to the cabin floor. Despite his size, it was remarkable how imposing the little golem looked as his body flared in anger. "I am loath to let an assassin twiddle with the mind of my charge!"

Maggie rose from the bed, barring her teeth like a wolf. "Your charge? He is my responsibility, not yours, and I−"

"Quiet."

Nathan's voice shivered the air like irritated thunder and both Maggie and Jabberwisp rocked in its wake, looking startled. Nathan tried not to look startled himself as he seized the floor.

"J, Maggie saved my life and cares only for my safety. Maggie, Jabberwisp has done nothing but help me at continued risk to himself. I don't give much of a damn whether the two of you get along, but I insist you not bicker over my welfare in front of me as though I have no say in the matter."

Nathan went to the bedside, kicking off his shoes and shedding his work-stained clothes before sitting down. "Maggie, after you 'broke in,' we barely spoke. Awful as it was, if you want to make an exercise of that I can see the benefit. However, I want you to be sure you can handle it. J, if you could get the lights that would be fantastic." Nathan slipped under the covers and smiled into the stunned silence.

Jabberwisp recovered first. "Well done, young master. Well done." With a chirruping laugh the little cobbling bowed and rolled to the lantern, reaching in and clapping the candle between its shapeless limbs. "If it is all the same to you, young master, I will retire elsewhere." The cobbling rolled to the window and cracked it open. "I am sure you and the assassin−" Jabberwisp somehow threw a scathing glare Maggie's way "have things to discuss."

Maggie stared after the cobbling. "Is it trying to get caught?"

"He is a good thousand years old. I imagine he's good at hiding." Nathan frowned into the dark, uncomfortably reminded of his latest nightmare. "What is your problem with him, anyway?"

Silhouetted against the window, Maggie's outline flickered in the moonlight as she shrugged. "He's... honestly, he... it's nothing."

"He makes you feel guilty because he was there when you weren't?"

Maggie shook, and he didn't need to see her face to guess she was choking back guilty tears. "I should have stayed up, I should have−"

"Hey now," Nathan hopped out of bed and walked to her side. "I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"And you lost enough skin to make a pair of boots, not to mention your finger! How are you supposed to play the guitar?"

Nathan rested a hand on her shoulder and gently turned her to face him. "Maggie, it's okay. And it could have been worse. Much worse." Nathan frowned, something occurring to him. "Maggie... Renal, his goons... they knew I was special, called me a wizard. They were talking about selling me to someone, someone who'd told them about me."

Maggie didn't respond and Nathan considered hugging her, but restrained himself: hugging a beautiful woman while wearing only underwear had a certain connotation he didn't want distracting him at the moment.

"I wish you would," she whispered.

"How could they have known?" Nathan wondered aloud a moment before he processed what she'd said. However, the moment was already gone, and Maggie replied in a brittle voice. "Why don't you ask Bek? Seems to me you had trouble taking your eyes of her."

"See, now I gotta know how you see," Nathan grinned. Half the time he'd look up from work the girl had been staring unabashedly from the rigging. She was beautiful and he couldn't help but notice, but Nathan was thinking about someone else these days. Besides, Bek reminded him of the many stories of attractive, womanish things that lured men to their deaths at sea. He made an effort to pay no attention and felt rather safer for it. Is that why you're so testy... "Don't tell me you're jealous."

"You're my husband, remember."

Dear God, she is! He felt a sudden upswing of affection for Maggie, and without even thinking he replied "She's pretty, but she's no you. Now−"

She kissed him.

Gentle and delicate as snow drifting on the wind, the faintest touch of her lips sent an electric current running to the tips of his toes and back, putting every hair on end and whiting out his thoughts in a crystal-edged moment of pleasure. The moment before he reclaimed enough of his wits to kiss her back she pulled away with a faint and, Nathan hoped, a rather yearning smile.

"I've been told the best way to shut someone up is to kiss them. Never had a chance to test it till now."

Nathan blinked at her and his mouth quirked. "Have I mentioned how great your dimples−"

"It's no fun when you abuse it."

"Can't blame me for trying... so..."

"I honestly have no idea what put them on to you, sorry." Maggie barred her teeth. "Had you saved me one, I could have asked." The air at her back shivered for a moment, a shadow of ash-feathered bones cupping the air. Bobby's wings, Nathan thought.

"See, I knew... say, how can you see? You never answered that."

Chuckling, Maggie took his hand and guided him back to the bed. "You really are good at distracting me from being sad. Thank you." She composed herself, inhaling slowly until her face was calm and expressionless. "It's... well, I kinda..."

She winced. "It's hard to explain. What was it I said at the inn?"

"That you could sense people, feel what they were feeling."

"Huh. Well, that's not wrong, but it's not exactly... well, I could show you, but it's kinda... much."

"Much?"

She nodded. "Much. You know it was a shock for me when you shared the stars?"

Nathan shrugged. "I suppose."

"Don't be casual about this, Nathan," Maggie warned. “This could be… worse."

Something in her tone gave him pause. "Define worse."

"If we were in a city, you'd go insane."

"Aha. That's worse."

"A mind can only take so much," Maggie intoned. "On a boat it shouldn't be too bad, especially a little one like this."

"Shouldn't be, huh?"

"You lost a pinky, what's a few brain cells?" Maggie's smile was wide and fiery enough to leave an afterimage seared into Nathan's vision. "Lie down."

Nathan's thoughts ran to places that made his cheeks flush. "Maggie, I like you and all, but I'm not going to−"She raised a finger that seemed to gouge the air with menace. "Don't you dare go there or I swear you’ll be a cabbage for the rest of the trip. This will be tricky enough as it is."

Nathan obediently laid down.

Maggie nodded with satisfaction and reached out. "Give me your hand... Close your eyes..."

Nathan’s mind whited out. Minutes, hours, perhaps days later, he gasped as his mind slammed back to the confines of his own senses, shaking hard enough that he could hear the bed's legs juddering against the floor. Maggie's worried face hovered over his, mouthing something that took him long seconds to hear.

"Nathan! Nathan, are you ok?"

"Hogh... yeah."

He'd had heard somewhere that it was only within the decade or so that computers had managed to match and even surpass the power of the human brain, that at any given moment a mind is processing unfathomable quantities of information, struggling and sometimes failing to filter the input of one body down enough to make sense.

Nathan's brain had just tried to process the sensations of sixteen people.

"How the hell do you manage all that?!"

Maggie smiled and tightened her grip on his hand. "Well, you were just thinking about how the body filters its own feelings, right?"

"Right," Nathan nodded.

"Well, you could say I developed a bigger filter. Or at least, this came with one. Here." Maggie tentatively offered him a hand and he took it. "Let's try this... gradually..."

It flickered at first, tentative as an infant taking its first steps. By delicate degrees it unfurled in his mind, rippling into existence as gossamer threads of pale knowledge that gently resolved into the curves and lines of the ship around them.

"That's one way to see it, I suppose," Maggie's voice seemed to echo from some deep place in his mind.

"You don't see it this way?"

Amused happiness, not his own but not unpleasant for it, pulsed through the ghost-traces of the ship in a warm flicker, slowly building on the image as the faintest patterns of detail began to appear in his mind's eye.

"I see something, well, rather more than a whole picture. What you're seeing now are memories of the ship drawn from ourselves and those around us. In fact..."

The ship knit into completeness around them, impossibly rich in detail. Nathan marveled as the faintest of grains in the wood, the slightest frays in the ropes, even the faint presence of seawater on the planks all found purchase in his mind, absolute knowledge of the ship’s every facet. He knew each rope as though his own hands had woven them, each precious segment of wood as though he'd shaped and laid each in its place. Every sail, hammock, rail, pin, all of it was there. His senses danced along the contours of the ship, knowing in such absolute clarity that it only barely kept from being agony. All but sight.

His comprehension of the ship's sounds, feel, even smells and taste were all incredibly complete, so exact that it seemed the slightest effort of will might bring a perfect copy of the Terrapin into ghostly being beside the original. All but in seeing. The ghostly echoes and textures that formed the ship in his mind had no color, no shades, no light, nothing of the visible world.

"Okay, that's the ship as I see it. At least, with 'normal' senses. Now watch..."

The faintest ripples of color danced across the ship in his mind's eye, radiating from moving points which Nathan slowly realized were the crew. The colors were washed out, blurred and blended, almost indiscernible from one to the next.

"That's the best I can do from here. It's hard. I've been blind for thirteen years. I still have memories of what it's like, you've seen, but without a willing guide, someone to touch..." Nathan felt a slight tightening around his hand and an upwelling of gratitude. "Otherwise, I have to struggle to see anything through the eyes of others. I get... spillover into the other senses, I guess you could say, but it's not the same."

"That's sad."

The radiance of Maggie's affection shone through Nathan's mind again as she replied. "You'd think, but then there's this. You're going to see this as color, but... well, just imagine."

The mental landscape of the boat flushed into a brilliant, golden light, flooding like a river suddenly drawing from invisible sources. Nathan was dazzled as the light rippled and swayed around itself, flowing in and out of the boundaries of the ship. Seen like this the Terrapin was more than the mere substance it occupied, burning with a realness that seemed both ephemeral and more solid than the ship had ever appeared to Nathan’s own senses.

"What is..." as he asked the question Nathan suddenly thought of the cheerful, slightly dotty voice of Frank Oz.

"Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter."

"What was that, Yoda?"

"It's thought, isn't it? “Nathan laughed as it became clear. "It's the crew, thinking about the ship. It's love."

"Exactly."

The crew themselves slowly flooded into color, rich hues and shades whose meanings Nathan could only guess at locked in the shape of human bodies. Glimmers of light, like fireflies across a field, flickered where Nathan guessed the shore to be, a village glittering at the edge of Maggie's perceptions like a city lighting up the night. He started to look closer but one shape, far closer and brighter than the others, irresistibly drew his attention.

The figure blazed so fiercely in his mind’s eye it was a wonder the world didn't catch fire around it. Flame lensed the shape in a dancing corona, straining against the boundaries of a human form like a leviathan caught in a fishbowl. As he watched, the patterns of shifting light moved in ways that seemed maddeningly familiar. He drifted closer...

Nathan blinked awake to see Maggie peering cautiously at him. "You need to be careful." She said it slowly, as though explaining to a child that fire hurt if you tried to hold it in your hands.

"Careful... why?" Nathan was surprised to hear his voice slurring. He blinked and shook his head, feeling strangely dizzy.

"Jesu, you're going to pass out and little wonder... here." Maggie snatched up J's bottle and poured two drops into Nathan's mouth. "Do you have any idea what you were looking at?"

The potion burned as it went down, only vaguely like a lemon as the taste faded. Nathan's eyelids felt impossibly heavy. "...You?"

Maggie shook her head. "Nathan, I can't see myself. Besides, l learned long ago that one of the most dangerous things a soul can endure is to witness itself as it truly is. That’s the problem… yourself."

Nathan barely heard her finish as he drifted into unconsciousness. "Nathan, you were looking at yourself."