Chapter 11

Rugar was dead on about his cousin. Lugar’s price of twenty large golds was ludicrous, and would have left me broke if not for a trip to the bank before the fracas. After we saw our accommodations, I understood why he could charge such a high price.

There’s an art to smuggling. Whether you’re moving illicit goods or fugitives, certain conditions are needed for success. Lugar put in the work to meet those conditions.

Coins changed hands thrice as we left the city. Not only were the customs agents bribed, they were bribed regularly. They knew Lugar was carrying things the Crown wouldn’t approve of. They could turn him in for a handful of coppers, or they could keep letting him go and count on a steady income of silvers. They had families to feed, and they knew Lugar wouldn’t have peddled anything too odious, or he’d have been arrested downstream ages ago. There was no harm in pocketing the coin and putting food on the table.

Our cabin was another condition. It was cramped, yes, but as luxurious as one could hope for, given the confines. En suite latrine, bar stocked with food and drink, silken sheets, it was all there for our use. Anything that wasn’t present, Lugar promised, he’d pick up at the next stop. Anything, to include “company”. What’s more, we had portholes, so we could see the outside world as we traveled.

Fugitives already feel trapped by their circumstances. Throw them in a dark, musty hold with no light, no air, and a pile of moldy straw for a bed, and claustrophobia is an inevitability. Claustrophobic passengers will, almost invariably, seek fresh air and open spaces, two luxuries that are mutually exclusive to the goal of remaining undiscovered.

By plying his passengers with food, booze, silks, and companions of negotiable affection, Lugar minimized the chances of them seeking respite on the decks, where any passing boat might notice. And since we already paid a noble’s ransom, it was all included in the price of passage. We could drink through his entire stash of booze and hire a personal harem, and he’d still turn a tidy profit in the bargain.

What if we were boarded by agents of the crown? Why, our cruise was booked weeks ago, just check the ledgers. No, we didn’t board at Nabyu. We’ve been here since Hekoc. The crew would gladly testify that Mister and Missus So-And-So had, in fact, been there since Hekoc, and they were lovely passengers, not a peep of trouble out of them.

That was why Lugar could charge so high a price for our freedom. There was always a chance something could go awry. If fortune wanted us captured, she’d damn well have to work for it.

Personally, I was just glad for the chance to get a good night’s sleep. Even a short fight is exhausting. A bath would have been nice, especially after days on the road. Alas, I had to settle for a clean change of clothes and a wipedown. Luxury or no, there wasn’t space aboard the riverboat for a shower.

I returned from the washroom to find Kaze settled into her bunk, the blankets pulled up to her chin. Her cloak and harness hung from a peg on the wall. There was no sign of her ogre blood-soiled clothes. I could only assume that she wasn’t wearing them to bed, so Lugar must have had someone handling laundry.

Might’ve been awkward if there was only one bunk.

As for me, I was already stripped to the waist. I pulled my boots off, gave my feet a quick wipedown, and started unbuckling my trousers when Kaze made a strangled noise.

“Sorry,” I said. “Gotta change. You might want to turn your back.”

“No need to apologize. I don’t know why that startled me.”

She rolled over, her back towards me.

“Fights do funny things to our emotions,” I said.

“I’m aware. I can never predict exactly which way they’ll turn in the aftermath. Damn, but this is inconvenient.”

“Which part, exactly?”

“I know I shouldn’t care, but I have to ask: who was she? The elf, I mean.”

“Oh. Brin,” I said. “How much of that did you hear?”

“I heard her call you ‘lover’. I’m assuming there’s some history between you.”

“Ancient history,” I said. “She and I were a thing once, aye. We parted ways because she wanted to settle down and start a family, and I didn’t. There was work to be done.”

“Was it really that cut and dry?”

“More or less. She was sure there was more to it than that, mind.”

“I see. How long has there been work to be done, exactly?”

I frowned.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, you’re far older than you look. Elves and dwarves call you friend or lover when they scarcely remember humans,” she said. “You speak of Lady Flir as if you know her, and yet, I’ve been at her side for 20 years and I’ve never once heard of you. At the very least, you’re older than the 40 or so you appear to be.”

Ah hell. This conversation was bound to happen sooner or later.

“Add a zero to that and you’ll be on the right track,” I said. “I’m not sure exactly how old I am, but 400 is a good round guess.”

“You are human, yes?”

“As far as I know.”

“Then…how?”

“Wish I could tell you,” I said, shrugging. “Best I can figure is it’s a curse of some kind. All kinds of weird magic got thrown around in the Schism. Towards the end the Wilders were just throwing stuff at the wall to see what they could make stick.”

“What kind of curse makes one immortal?”

“No idea,” I said. “If I knew, I’d sell the secret. As near as I can tell, it’s some kind of stasis curse. Parts of me age. My hair’s not white because of fashion, I’m just old. I still need to eat and drink and all that. Gotta trim fingernails and toenails. I can die, too. It just doesn’t stick. No idea why.”

“That explains why you knew of the escape door,” she said. “That wasn’t your first time at the bottom of a wellspring.”

“Happens more than I’d like to admit,” I said. “I go up in flames like everyone else, and then I wake up at the bottom a few weeks later like nothing happened, and I don’t burn again. It took weeks to figure out how to escape after the first. Did some studying after that.”

“That also explains why you were so calm,” she said. “And also why you care so little that Plajin betrayed you.”

“Heroes come and go,” I said. “They rarely stick around long. Plajin is just the latest in a long line of suckers.”

“When you have centuries of perspective, I suppose that’s how they would seem to you,” she said. “I wonder why Lady Flir doesn’t feel the same way.”

“She’s always been petty, that one,” I said. “No slight too small to hold a grudge, and she holds them for decades.”

“That’s my experience with her,” she said. “Thank you for sharing, Garan. I don’t imagine you talk about your life often.”

“Not many people ask. I don’t often give them the chance.”

“That sounds dreadfully lonely.”

“A bit. Safer this way, though. Losing friends never gets any easier. That’s not a problem if I don’t have any. I focus on the job, and when that one’s done, I find another. Friends are but fond farewells in the making.”

I could tell that my words hurt her. Her shoulders stiffened, and she scooted closer to the wall. Bulkhead? Dunno. I’ve never been nautical. I could guess her expression, even if I couldn’t see her face.

How many times have I had this conversation? Dozens? Hundreds? It was hard to say.

That was another thing that never got easier. It was necessary, though. I couldn’t lie to her and get her hopes up. Kaze deserved better than that. They all did.

Brin was a mistake, one I didn’t intend to make again. Not with Kaze, not with anyone. In a few years, when Lady Flir was dead and she was ready to settle down, she’d realize I was right to push her away. She’d meet some pretty young thing, put roots down, and I’d be nothing but a memory. Maybe a fond one, maybe not.

And when she was dead and gone, a little piece of her would live on inside of me for however long it took me to break this curse. I carry hundreds of those little pieces. They never hurt any less to think about, but I cherish each one.

I finished undressing and crawled into my bunk. I was glad I couldn’t see her face. I was glad she couldn’t see mine. Would it make her feel any better to know I cried, too?