บท 25: On the High Seas
Spade interrogated the man while he was alive. This was rather merciful, but the boy seemed terrified nonetheless. Serenica got the opportunity to watch and listen.
The man was called John Longlines. Serenica moaned as she heard the first name. There were too many Johns aboard already.
"I didn't want to stay in the city watch. I came in one of them barrels."
"You're a man of the watch?" Spade asked, instantly perking up and motioning the rest of them to listen.
"That means the Blue Girl is not safe," Serenica said. "I met him there."
"And beat him up," the Admiral said. "How do they even employ men that get their behinds kicked by healers?"
"That's a very good question."
"I was willing to do dangerous jobs, but then they wanted me to kill a woman," John Longlines said. "I can't kill a woman. If I had known she was a she, I'd never have started a fight."
"He's a gentleman," Myorka said. "A complete buffoon, but a gentleman. Don't worry, son. We won't make you hit girls."
"That sounds impractical," the captain said, smiling. "I think we should keep him alive."
"For what?" Serenica asked. "Can't you just…"
"It's not cheap or easy. He seems like he dislikes even the most basic policies in the watch. Why not have him as an ally?"
"Look, I am sorry for beating you up," Serenica said to Longlines. "I had a rough day."
"So did I, but no hurt feelings, right? Miss…" The man hesitated and looked at each of his captors.
"I am Serenica Ingram."
The rest of them gave their names. The boy seemed to realize what a dangerous idea it had been to come aboard. He was trembling a little. Serenica gave him some calming herb extracts.
"You really shouldn't baby him. Save that medicine," Spade growled.
"We'd better take care of our informant," the first mate said. "He looks sickly."
The first mate was right. Longlines was sickly. He hid his arms in his sleeves, as if he was embarrassed by how small his muscles were, and he had the memory of a goldfish, asking several times for Serenica's name.
There was no time for examinations, though. There was still a storm brewing behind them and Serenica went to keep Myorka company.
A particularly heavy wave nearly threw them off their feet, but the bookkeeper quickly recovered, unlike Serenica, who staggered and had to lean on a wall.
"Whoa," Myorka laughed, and she didn't sound nervous at all.
Serenica heard a strange noise and realized it was coming from her own teeth. She had been subconsciously grinding her teeth for a while now, and the muscles in her neck were starting to get sore from the constant movement.
As the ship rocked back and forth once again, she saw the bookkeeper's expression soften and a hazy glow appeared in the dark, emotional eyes.
"You have not seen a storm on the high seas before, have you?" Myorka asked, motioning Serenica to come sit next to her in a comfortable chair.
"I have not seen one, and neither have I felt one," Serenica said, but the urge to throw up got the better of her and she had to utilize an object that closely resembled a trash can. She couldn't help thinking that with all the crumpled papers there, she was probably profaning something even more profane than vomit, contracts between the living and the dead.
When her stomach had somewhat calmed down, she let her body sink into the chair.
"It will be all right," the bookkeeper said, still with misty eyes and a voice that was downright musical to Serenica's ears.
"It will not be in vain, will it?"
"No, it won't." Myorka brushed her hair back, and Serenica could finally see the corners of her mouth, turned upwards in a subtle, comforting smile. "We will gain an advantage of speed and therefore one of advance, too. Let the boys handle it. You are perfectly safe with me."
Serenica remembered another who had spoken to her so softly. Helen, Helen in her arms, she wondered if she would ever meet her friend again. A dull ache of emptiness stabbed her inside her ribs and a tear forced its way into her eye, followed by another.
She tried to turn away and hide her weakness, but the bookkeeper lifted her hands to turn the head of the healer to face her again.
"Listen to me, Serenica. You are strong enough for a thousand storms. And if you were weak, I'd raise you up."
In that moment Serenica Ingram looked her new employer in the eyes and saw an overflowing tide of motherly compassion wash over her. Myorka was a good woman. Gods only knew how she had chosen piracy, but she was a good, kind person and she would make an excellent mother.
Serenica was now able to stop crying. She smiled back at her, borrowing confidence and strength from the woman.
"You know – I'll help you –" Serenica felt bile and other nasty things coming up again. She had to be quick if she wanted to speak her mind.
"I will help you become a mother or I will –"
She borrowed the trash can once again and heaved the remains of her portion of soup and bread onto the vomit-stained papers.
The bookkeeper held her hair back as she was throwing up.
When Serenica could catch her breath, she asked Myorka if it was a long voyage to Aja Vana.
"Long enough to get used to the sea? No. Long enough for something funny to happen? Absolutely."
Serenica didn't remember falling asleep and neither could she say for sure that she was awake now. The storm had passed and the sun came in through the window of her little space on the ship. Everything was only just large enough to live in. There was no extra wriggling space between the bed and the wall and the shelves and she hit her head more than once. Even as she cursed, a smile made its way on her lips. She was away from Neul. Away from Kinley. She was free.
She took the last of the pipe tobacco she had stashed for later and went on the deck to smoke.
A wonderful sight opened up all around her. There was no sign of land, only water as far as she could see, and the waves had taken on a peculiarly iridescent tinge. It was the sign of great magic happening.
When she asked a groggy Spade about the nature of that magic, he told her it was just the ocean doing what it did best. Perhaps someone had buried a lot of people recently. There were certain processes associated with death on the high seas, the most magnificent of which were the work of the waves themselves. At least that was what the captain said.
Serenica remembered John Longlines. He was still in chains from gods only knew what interrogation had happened during the night, but Spade gave Serenica the permission to set the poor boy loose for an examination.
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