The Farthest Shore (Eden Series Book 3) (19 page)

Kovir blotted his face as though that had taken the last of his strength. “A giant abyssal squid. We swam close enough to see.”

Unity
. If the creature was of a size to attack
Enlightenment
, it was large enough to deal with any Denalait ship. Belatedly realizing that the boy had been scouting for hours, Alyster told him to sit down. Kovir looked badly in need of some rest, and with the film of water gone, the swollen skin beneath his eyes was all too visible.

“What happened then?” he said.

“The kraken disengaged itself from
Enlightenment
and we retreated.”

“You were ordered to deliver a message to Captain Terlow, were you not?”

Kovir swallowed. “Yes, sir. I failed to do so.”

Because the kraken had been between him and the Dagran ship, so Alyster couldn’t blame him for that. “I suppose there’s no Turean galley called
Kraken
, then, despite Seawatch’s information to that effect. But someone must be controlling the kraken. Didn’t you see any other ships? Even a boat?”

“No, sir.”

Alyster’s appetite was gone, so he told Kovir to help himself to whatever lunch remained on the table. The worst-case scenario was that the kraken had sustained no injuries, so it would come after either him or
Wrack
. He had to get word to Lera and defend
Checkmate
as best he could.

He said as much to Kovir, who nodded. “We’ll search for
Wrack
, sir.”

The ship you couldn’t find before?
Even after the storm, the ships could not have been scattered so far apart, but perhaps the kraken had already found
Wrack
. He said nothing, because it was clear Kovir wanted to make up for not following his previous order.

His skepticism must have showed, though, because Kovir went on. “Captain, if we struck out with the intention of finding another ship rather than returning to
Checkmate
, we would stand more of a chance of…well, of finding one.”

And if he didn’t, he would be lost in Dagran waters he was unfamiliar with. Lost with nothing but a shark to depend on, in an ocean where a kraken hunted.
If you’re never seen again,
Alyster thought,
I won’t know how you died, only that you did so under my orders.

“You know the risks involved,” he said.

“To guide and to guard.”

Unity help him
. He was so young he could spout Seawatch slogans as if they meant something. Though when he was alone in the vastness of the ocean, searching for a ship that might or might not still exist, the smallest of things could make a difference.

“Get some rest,” Alyster said. “Then take as much food and water as you need from the galley.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kovir said, and was gone. Alyster thought of an old story he’d read, about a man who built a ship to outlast a great flood. The man hadn’t known in which direction any remaining land lay, so he sent out a raven that never returned. The ship eventually found a safe harbor, but Alyster couldn’t remember what had happened to the raven.

The steward wiped up the water on the floor, and Alyster spread a map out on the table. At all costs he had to make certain
Checkmate
never fell into Turean hands, and given the ship’s lack of weaponry, there was only one way to reduce the risk. He called his first lieutenant and chief engineer in once he had decided on a plan.

“The Shiptrapper Coast?” Thomal said.

“Might be our only chance. Kovir called the kraken an abyssal squid—a creature of the abyss.” Their faces told him how appropriate they thought the name was. “But that means it’s likely to stay out of shallow waters.”

“As long as they’re not so shallow our paddlewheel’s above the surface,” the chief engineer said. “Sir, if we’re so close to the Dagran coast, might we send word to them?”

The Dagran strength at sea wasn’t exactly comparable to the honed-by-war Denalait navy, but if they received news that one of their own ships had been attacked by pirates… Well, that could hardly hurt. Alyster nodded. There were no harbors along the deadliest coastline in Eden, but they could lower a boat carrying written word, not to mention letters for the crew’s families. He only hoped there were no reefs which would rip out the bottom of that boat.

The journey was turning into more of an obstacle course than a race. “We’ll lower the boat as soon as we’re near enough,” he said, thinking there was another reason to stay as close as possible to the coast. If he was wrong, if the kraken did venture into shallower water—and who was to say it wouldn’t, if a Turean whipped it onward?—the survivors of his ship might have at least a small chance of drifting to land.

He told Kovir about their destination before the boy left, and had to officially announce the news before the crew heard it for themselves. From experience he knew there were few secrets in the confined quarters on board a ship. So as the sun began to dip towards the ocean, he told Thomal to gather the crew. The deck might only be safe in the daylight hours if the kraken preferred to hunt at night.

Everyone assembled except for the stokers and pumpers and engineer on duty, because nothing short of a sinking ship necessitated abandoning the engine room. Miri was at the back of the crowd, but since Alyster stood on the quarterdeck he could just see her hair, glossy and dark in the sun. He clasped his hands behind his back and spoke.

“
Checkmate
s,” he began, “we’ve received more news about the pirates. Whether or not they have a ship called
Kraken
, they also have an actual kraken.”

No one seemed taken aback, but that was understandable, since they only knew of krakens from myths. He might as well have said “the Wandering Whirlpool is after us”.

“The beast attacked the Dagran ship, so it’s probably wounded now,” he said, “but we’re still taking a few safety measures. We’ll head into coastal waters where it won’t be likely to follow us. The watch will be doubled at night, and whoever spots the kraken gets five eagles, whether or not we win the prize.”

Time to finish on a high note to have them cheering. He raised his voice. “It doesn’t matter if the pirates dredge up a squid to do their work for them. They will
never
have this ship.”

A low mutter that seemed more dubious than enthused ran through the crowd, and some of the deckhands looked downright skeptical. Thomal stepped into the breach and started a huzzah-for-the-captain, but Alyster had already heard enough. He felt as though he had climbed up on the quarterdeck with his clothes on backwards.

His brother’s crew had always seemed to react more enthusiastically, roaring their assent or stamping the deck. Then again, his brother would have had everyone waiting to see what unbelievable thing he would do next. Whereas holding close to the coast and posting extra watches had been…sensible at best. Unremarkable.

Trying to pretend he hadn’t noticed the reaction, he took his time stepping back down as the crew dispersed. Miri remained leaning on the rail, but he would have steered a circle around her too if she hadn’t given him a sympathetic look. He went over to her.

“That was an awful speech.” He wasn’t in any mood for diplomatic sweet-talk, and it stung less to acknowledge his failings himself.

She frowned as if considering that and made a so-so movement with one hand. “More like forgettable. Three out of ten.”

“You’re a real help.”

She chuckled. “Sorry. But you must have found it harder to make rousing speeches during your first command. It’s a skill which… Why are you looking at me like that?”

“This
is
my first command.”

“Oh. I mean, of course. Well, as I was saying, when I first started in this business, I was terrible. I asked the wrong kinds of questions and talked when I should have been encouraging other people to confide in me. It’s a skill which takes time and experience, that’s all.”

Alyster felt a little better. It occurred to him that while he had been with women whom he’d found beautiful and whose company he had enjoyed—and all those women would have been far more socially acceptable—he hadn’t liked any of them as much as he liked Miri. For all her habit of asking questions, she was not only easy to talk to but seemed to know the right thing to say as well.

And the more he came to think about it, the more difficult it was to justify her Turean blood keeping them apart when he liked everything else about her.

“Have you ever considered being completely Denalait?” he said.

She looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Alyster was aware he had been thinking aloud, but since he wasn’t sure how to go back, he plowed on. “Well, if you never spoke about
that
, there’s no way people could find out. I know you don’t mind life being difficult, but there are advantages to choosing to be Denalait.”

“I see.” The confusion drained out of her face, leaving it oddly blank. “If I pretend not to have any Turean blood, it’ll be as if my parents never met. I’ll need to find another man to pass as my father, though. Are you volunteering?”

Alyster ignored the sarcasm. Obviously she was affronted by the idea of a small compromise, but maybe she just hadn’t thought about the benefits of coming down on the right side of the line she insisted on straddling.

“If you want to write about the Tureans,” he said, “won’t you find people a lot more willing to listen to a Denalait?”

“To someone who’s lying to them about who she is, you mean?”

“You’re lying anyway, aren’t you, by omission? People look at you and see a Denalait. I’m only suggesting you never correct them, that’s all. Think of it as the lesser of two evils.”

“Alyster…” She shook her head, though the gesture had more tired distaste than negation. “I don’t like that I have to hide what I am, but actively lying about it would be worse.”

“The truth isn’t something people are entitled to as a right.” That wasn’t something he had decided for himself; it was a fact of life known to anyone in the armed forces. “They get it if they need it or deserve it. Why do you think the Council of Eyes and Voices has never told anyone what exactly the Unity is?”

Even through the weariness in her face, her jaw set. “I don’t care what the Council of Eyes and Voices does. But I do care about being able to live with myself.”

“Which is exactly who you’ll be living with if you keep this up.” Alyster was finally beginning to lose his temper.

“Oh, so that’s what all this is about!” The corners of her mouth stretched, but there was nothing either warm or amused in the smile, and he knew he had gone too far. “Don’t worry, Captain. I can live with myself a great deal more happily for the rest of my life than I can spend one more moment with a man who’s so clearly ashamed of me.”

The smile vanished as if it had never existed and contempt shone out of her eyes before she turned on her heel and left.

Miri found the hatch only because she had spent enough time on the deck by then to know her way without needing to see. Her eyes stung and her vision kept blurring, but she refused to lift a hand to her face, at least not where anyone could see her. Holding her head high and hoping she wouldn’t trip, she climbed down to the lower deck.

Rather than stumbling on anything, she collided with someone instead and began to apologize as she blinked hard. The other person was silent, so even before her vision cleared she knew it was Reveka. Brows together, the doctor studied her closely.

“I’m fine,” Miri said. “Not in need of medical attention, anyway.”

Reveka mimed lifting a cup to her lips, her other hand flat to serve as a saucer, and pointed at the surgery.

Miri shrugged. Why not? It wasn’t as though she had anyone else to share a drink with. So she followed Reveka and made herself comfortable while water bubbled. Reveka seemed to be accustomed to using medical equipment to make tea, and Miri would have been either taken aback or amused under any other circumstances.

A fragrance of hibiscus stole through the surgery, and she made herself relax. Reveka didn’t seem about to ask her anything, but the best way to divert attention from herself was to encourage other people to talk about their lives, so she did just that as she accepted a cup.

“Have you ever been married?” she asked, guessing the answer. Of course a woman like her would be married, probably to a good man who treated her with kindness and respect.

Reveka reached for her slate and wrote:
Yes. He died
.

Any envy Miri had felt died as well, shriveling like a grub in the noonday sun. “I’m so sorry, Reveka. I didn’t mean to—well, to bring up painful memories.”

Reveka turned the slate over and wrote:
Rather remember him, even if painful, than forget. And I think of him when I see our daughter. Both drank tainted water but at least she lived.

“Where does your daughter live?”

In Knockwood, with my parents
. Reveka sipped her tea as she stared at what she had written, then rubbed it out.
Love being on a ship but need to find work on land.

Miri nodded. There were other navy doctors, but a daughter had only one mother, not that Reveka needed her to point out the obvious. From the shadows in her eyes, she knew it already.

“Or you could find work on another ship,” she said, “a safer one, like a merchantman, and take your daughter with you.”

Reveka smiled.
No. She wants to be a jockey.

“Oh.”

Then again, that was two months ago. She may want to be a mermaid now.

Miri laughed and finished her tea.

“What if the kraken found them first?” Kovir said.

He always knew he was reaching the limits of his endurance when he started talking to the shark, though he supposed the habit would only need to be broken if he heard her replying. The knife-blade of her dorsal was poised before him as if to bisect his belly, and beyond it the shape of her blunt snout was indistinct beneath frothing waves reddened from the sunset. She was fortunate. She wouldn’t run out of water, fall asleep from sheer exhaustion or worry about slinking back home in defeat.