A Working Ship

I frowned at my food. “I think this is actually good, Duran.”

“Really?”

“Shh,” I said. I took another bite. “Don’t make too much of it. It’ll sense it.”

“I made it from my recipe book,” he said. “I hadn’t thought to follow the recipes before.”

“What exactly did you think it was for?” The balance of the garlic was excellent- not too much, and the pieces were actually small enough I couldn’t feel them in the sauce. Across the room, Apis was eating enthusiastically.

“I was mostly looking at the drawings.”

Before I could figure out how to respond to that (he could read, could he not?) Unnr started to speak louder. Maybe I should have been listening. She was saying something about earning revenge?

“I don’t like this wild idea of yours. Sailing that way is risky. Do you even have a boat?” Gorm had made himself at home, spreading out over one of the chairs and propping his feet on the goat. I had taken a chair across the room and was eating one of Duran’s flatbreads with some of the clams in cream garlic sauce. It was…

“As I already told you, the whaling ship from last season-”

“You mean the one that got abandoned here for being too broken to whale with? That ship?”

“It’s only a few small repairs,” she said. “And then we’ll be north in record time.”

“I don’t care how fast you can get north. I lost all of my stock, remember?”

“Ah,” said Unnr, leaning in. Her eyes were alight with what had to be enthusiasm, barely visible behind those strange multifaceted lenses. “You’ll get more stock next season. You’re never going to get an opportunity like this again.”

“I thought we were rescuing people,” I said. “What opportunity is it, exactly?”

I shouldn’t have asked. It only invited Unnr to reveal another, even more detailed map. She shoved it onto the floor and rolled it out with great enthusiasm.

“You see before you the Crags,” she said. It looked a little bit like a pastry. I stared at the wobbly parts around the edges and took another bite of the flatbread. Unnr poked at a small spot on the coast.

“The cursed isthmus,” she said. “This is where they take deliveries sent to the Crags.” Her hand slid past the small connection between two inlets and up towards what seemed to be a mountain. “The Crags itself. Only serviced by Skeleton Harbor.”

“They make it sound so welcoming,” I muttered.

Unnr continued, ignoring me, “What’s important is that the remoteness of the Crags means the military doesn’t just use it for their foolish academy and stealing innocent Imagos. They also sponsor a small military group. Including a certain captain I recall you saying stole your best ship.”

"Who told you that?" Gorm shifted, then scratched at his chin. "Even if I did once lose a ship to a two-timing, shameless, snobby fool... well, those days are past me now. I'm just a merchant."

“I have my sources.”

She jabbed her finger violently on the map again. “I’ve heard it’s a comfortable position. Lots of priorities, good food, sun at least a quarter of the time. Are you really going to let Captain Egill live out the rest of his life in peace?”

This island was getting less appealing by the moment. I hadn't signed up for some mariner's revenge story. They were both so involved, however, that I decided to take the brave way out and eat more of Duran's flatbread instead. It really was quite tasty.

"Doesn't matter to me. I told you, I'm a changed man now. I just want my money.” I couldn’t tell how Gorm really felt. He still looked angry, hand in a tight ball, eyebrows drawn tight- but that might have just been Unnr’s influence.

“It won't be that hard,” Unnr said. Were priestesses of the Beetle allowed to lie this blatantly? "We'll just sweep in, steal his prisoners out from under his nose, and then leave. He'll hate it. It'll be the perfect revenge!"

“Let’s say I believe you, and this might hurt Egill,” said Gorm. “You still didn’t really answer my question. Let’s say we get all the way north and we land on the Crags. You said it yourself. It’s an ultra-secure military academy. How are we getting in?”

“Don’t worry,” said Unnr. “I’ve figured it all out.”

~*~

“I don’t know why this plan includes us retrieving the ship,” I said, clambering over yet another rock. We’d waited until the next morning, when the sun would be high and the tides would be low, but I still felt clumsy.

“Perhaps she thinks being a paladin will protect you,” said Apis. He slipped forward as he finished, forcing me to steady him.

The beach of Clam Cove was treacherous as always, scattered with rocks and tidepools frozen over by the chill of the night as the ocean gently lapped at the shore. I squinted into the distance. The cove itself was sheltered by a pair of bluffs, one on either side. We’d been sent to the northern bluff with instructions to “sail the ship back”.

“I mean, really,” I continued, stepping over a large boulder and trying to avoid the patch of ice next to it. “We can’t even sail!”

“That’s why you have me.”

We both glanced back at the goat. I tried not to look too disbelieving, but I clearly failed.

“Years of my life, sailing! I spent all of my life perfecting my technique. If anyone can get you out of here, it’ll be me.” When I continued to stare at him, he bleated a little before continuing. “Well. That and the fact I asked Unnr about the ship. It’s actually not too badly broken, they just tucked it away before the weather would hurt it worse. There aren't any shipbuilders in this town.”

At least the walk was somewhat nice, the sun out and the air brisk. I wondered what this place was like in summer. Did it actually fill up with people from the cannery? Surely not. Even canners had better places to go, didn’t they?

As we walked, Apis sidled up next to me, giving the goat an odd look. “You’re still sure on not banishing him?”

I shook my head. “Why? I didn’t think you had a problem with each other.”

I’d barely even seen them interact. Why would Apis, of all people, be angry about it now? “It just seems cruel, to force a man to be in a goat’s body,” he muttered. “He wasn’t even brought back because of a promise. Katla just… stole him from his afterlife.”

“Don’t worry!” bleated the goat. We both started in surprise. I hadn’t realized he was in hearing distance. “Ever been a goat? Surprisingly entertaining. I can eat so many things I could never try before!”

“At least introduce yourself,” said Apis. “I can’t keep calling you goat. My name is Apis.”

“You can call me Harald. Nice to meet you, bee-boy.” Apis didn't look pleased with the nickname, but he turned and kept walking. I tried not to look too amused.

Just beyond the edge of the bluff, after a terrifying hop from boulder to boulder, was our prize. Tucked into a deeper channel as a river came from the bluff, I could see how it was somewhat protected, sheltered by a set of massive rocks from the biggest breakers. I didn’t see any holes in the hull, at least.

Still, there was one problem. It was beached.

Apis waded across and climbed precariously up the tilted edge of the ship, finally throwing down a rope to me. I took my sweet time climbing up, staring at the hull. It seemed overall fine, save for a few scratches.

“You really think you can get a new mast?” He called down, looking over the edge at where Harald must be waiting.

“Bring me up! I’ll investigate!”

Only half of the mast remained on the ship, its end cracking out into splinters in the sunlight. I glanced around for the other part, but couldn’t see it. It must have gone out with the tides.

Harald clamped onto the end of the rope with his teeth, swinging out into thin air as Apis and I both pulled him up. When he finally clambered onto the deck, he trotted over to the mast with the air of a seasoned professional. "The mast! I didn’t know that was why this ship was beached.”

“You’re worried?”

He bleated. “No! It’s great news!” When neither of us reacted, he continued, “We can sail her at half-mast to get north again, where there are real shipyards. I can't believe they would have left behind a fine ship like this! All these sailors today, so soft.”

I decided not to mention his own track record with sailing. “Isn’t that slow?”

“Maybe it’s not a problem,” Apis said. “Slower might be safer?”

"It should only take five or six days to sail north," said Harald. He curled up under the mast, chewing on something. "Not so bad at all, in this weather. Maybe a full week if we get hit by a storm."

I clapped my hands together. “Right, so we're agreed. Harald, work your magic. Get us off of this sandbar.”

Harald just bleated again and sat down, legs underneath him as he chewed at something. “Hah! As if. We have to wait for the tide.”

“What? That’s hours from now.”

If a goat could shrug, that was what he’d just done. “What did you expect me to do? Push it out?”

I wanted to argue, but he made a good point. For a moment I hesitated, but eventually I sat down on the tilted deck of the ship, staring at the horizon. The waves crashed. A bird called. “I should have brought the cheese."