“So, when you say ‘look for shelter’,” Sheiral said as Jace led her across the forested mountainside, “does this mean you don’t know where we’re going?”
“Away from them that are chasing us,” Jace said.
“I thought that perhaps you had a hiding place in mind.”
“The island itself will hide us,” Jace said.
“This island? I’ve seen islands like this from above,” Sheiral said. “They aren’t big enough to hide anything.”
“Well, they’re bigger from down here,” Jace said.
As it happened, the island was bigger than even Jace gave it credit for being… he had only ever explored one corner of it, and had never swam far enough from its shore to get a real feel for its size. It was not the sort of island on which a pair of fugitives could disappear indefinitely in the face of well-organized and determined searchers, but it was quite large enough to hide a few big surprises… or one small ship.
In an underground harbor formed from a volcanic cave whose winding mouth was barely visible from the outside, there sheltered a strange vessel. It might have been styled a “boat” for its lack of mast and sails, but apart from those trivial omissions it was built along the lines of a sleek racing ship. It had a rudder, but no till or wheel for a helmsman.
The cave was lit with natural luminescence from a strange species of crystal that dotted the rock. The ship’s owner and sole occupant had improved the illumination of the cave’s central chamber by mining its walls to expose richer veins of the glowing stones and stringing up smaller chunks of them netted together in bundles. On past visits to the island, she hadn’t bothered… her slit-pupiled eyes glowed with reflected light in even the dimmest rooms… but this had become an extended stay and she found some tasks more convenient in brighter light, like reading maps and charts and translating a particularly old tome by looking for comparable words in another not-so-young book.
“The thing is,” she said out loud, though she was the only person on the cave, “there’s no reason I couldn’t be doing this in town. Not the pissant little town on the other side of this rock, I don’t mean… but a proper town somewhere, with a library where there are more books, and scholars to consult with…”
“And greedy guilds and blundering bureaucrats and thieving thieves,” a voice, sonorous and masculine, replied. The timbers of the deck vibrated with it beneath the woman’s outstretched form. The papers spread out in front of her shifted and rustled.
“‘Thieving thieves’ is the laziest alliteration I’ve ever heard,” she said. “And if you’re going to do that, please come out first.”
“Sorry, Katryn,” the voice said, now coming from a slightly translucent head rising up out of the deck beside her. The spirit’s face was wrapped up in a tightly wound black scarf that left only its eyes, two tiny embers in dark pits, visible. It continued to levitate upward until it was completely free of the physical form of the ship, revealing a slender tan-furred body wearing a loose-fitting white shirt, billowing white pants, and slippers with pointed toes that curled backwards. “But you know we came here for a reason: to keep out of sight until we get our bearings. The Inner Sea is too crowded, too civilized to stay hidden for long… but on an island like Faresia, we can disappear forever.”
“I’m sure we wouldn’t be the first to do so,” Katryn said.
Ongoing support is especially appreciated.
Note: I'm trying out a new comment system. It's new and subject to jiggerypokery. It's moderated. Detailed guidelines to come but follow the general rule: be excellent to each other.
If you enjoy reading, please consider a financial contribution.
« « 23: Cold Pursuit 25: Tunnel Vision » »