The Phoenix of Kiymako Read online

  Running away – what you always think about.

  But hadn’t the showdown with Snow broken him of that pattern? Wasn’t that the reason he hoped to check on Luis and Tsolde if he could, why he’d stopped in City-Sedrin in the first place? Never came to a halt, starting down a corridor that would take him back toward Elina’s rooms.

  But when he arrived, a servant handed him a folded piece of paper and explained that the Princess was already meeting with her council and could not be disturbed. Never thanked the girl and started back down the hallway, his boots echoing in the morning hush. The palace was still mostly abed.

  Once out of sight, he stopped to open the paper.

  Never,

  I know you will find your sister, do not give up.

  And don’t get yourself killed!

  Elina

  Quite brief. And no mention of last night.

  Relief replaced a flicker of disappointment. Elina was beautiful and strong, exactly the kind of woman he desired but she was a friend. They’d been through enough together, knew each other well enough now... maybe that was why she’d said nothing? Perhaps he was imagining things in any event. Vain fool!

  He smiled as he tucked the paper into an inner pocket and started back toward the great entryway. Elina would be fine; she had a nation to rebuild, a still-recovering grandfather to care for, and a bold but non-treasonous thief to deal with. She’d forget last night soon enough.

  As he had to, if he wanted to find his sister.

  Never checked on his purse, the reassuring clink of coins following. Now, all he had to do was make sure Ferne didn’t try and fleece him. If the big man was as rich as he’d planned to become, surely the captain wouldn’t need to charge too much for what should be an uneventful trip?

  Chapter 3

  Ferne’s fortunes may have changed but he hadn’t – he still wore a bear-like beard of black, his head was still bald, and he certainly hadn’t lost his broad axe. Admittedly, the former treasure-hunter now wore a much finer cut of cloth, a maroon and black tunic and earrings of gold that caught the rising sun, the first warm spring morning.

  “Never.” Ferne started down the gangway of his ship, speaking over a din from the docks; a mixture of sea-birds and grunts and cursing from the men loading and unloading goods. “I got your message.”

  “Did you think I’d be dead?”

  “Ha, you’re too clever for that. I just didn’t think you’d need to book passage on one of my tubs, is all. Aren’t you the Winged Hero of the war? I hear about you in every damn port. You’re twelve feet tall and your wings are like a cloak of midnight, you’ve got fire for blood and no blade dares touch you – and that’s only the half-believable stuff.”

  “And so legends begin, I fear.”

  Ferne slapped him on the back with a large hand. “Well, I can believe most of it – except the stories about your wings. I admit, that seems too much, even for someone like you.”

  “Well, I’m not planning on flying all the way to Kiymako.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He gestured to the ship, a sleek hull painted a deep blue, its oars drawn in and the mainsail still. Barefooted sailors worked at various tasks, one coiling a dark net, another climbing down a rope ladder to check the hull for barnacles. “The Swordfish. Much smaller but faster than my other ships.”

  “Looks good to me,” Never said as he followed the captain across the gangway. “How many do you have now?”

  “Six,” Ferne said. “Since our little expedition to the Amber Isle, the wind has turned in my favour.”

  Never lowered his voice. “The Sea King’s Eye?”

  He nodded. “Hasn’t led me astray once; no storm, no channel, no reef has been able to surprise us. It’s an infallible, glowing compass from the very Gods. I’ve even managed to sail around the Southern Horn and if you think there were a lot of wrecks at the Amber Isle, well, the horn puts the isle to shame.”

  “How does it work on a river?”

  “Not as wondrous but I’m not expecting trouble on a simple passage, am I?” he asked, and it wasn’t really a question.

  “I won’t if you don’t.”

  Ferne showed him to a tiny room not too far from his own quarters. “We’re not exactly a passenger ship, but it’s all yours.”

  “More than enough, thank you.”

  “We’ll be travelling directly to the Stone Bell, where we can resupply. The Rinsa’s Curve will get us to the lowlands where we can travel west again. The old Rinsa slows a bit where it widens down there, but there’s no way to carry the Swordfish up The Long Stair so that’s my best offer.”

  “I trust your navigation, Captain.”

  He snorted. “Navigation? It’s the largest river in all of Hanik, nothing to navigate.”

  “Still, better your hand at the tiller.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll do your share – cooking and hunting at the least.”

  “A chance to stretch my legs, perfect.”

  “Once we reach the coast it’s only two days to Kiymako.” He paused to frown. “I hope you’ve got an idea for permission to dock. Word is that they’ve tightened trade even further thanks to the Vadiyem. Supposedly only captains with existing contracts are allowed to enter the bay now – newcomers, even those with spice, are turned away with burning arrows.”

  Never raised an eyebrow. His last, rather brief visit to Kiymako had been after something of a shipwreck. He’d landed to the north of the island and while no-one had been precisely welcoming nor were they as disagreeable as Ferne was suggesting. “Excessive.”

  “No ships sunk yet, but the message spread quick enough.”

  “Well, I do have a plan and I promise the Swordfish won’t face a single arrow.”

  “Good. Get settled; you can tell me about the war when we’re underway,” he said as he left.

  Never unpacked what little he’d brought. Much of it was mundane travel items for cooking or camp, but several possessions he hadn’t let out of his sight since Snow’s death. The Amouni robe was packed at the bottom, not that he’d ever need to use it again, a single bloodied white feather, and the item he was most concerned about – the golden seed from the Memory Tree.

  He’d not tried to see within but neither had he shattered it... nor could he decide whether his reluctance was folly or prudence. The potentially far more dangerous Hor Pyrilh, the book Snow had called the Human Map, was still locked up in Pacela’s Temple.

  Once Never had unpacked, he headed back above decks where he moved to the prow, doing his best to keep out from underfoot. He glanced up at the silver city until the work was done and the Swordfish was sliding down the river. Hard to shake a twinge of regret... or was it lingering confusion?

  “Never?”

  One of Ferne’s sailors stood before him; an older man with a salt-and-pepper beard. He was loading up a pipe with black tobacco.

  “I am.”

  “Ferne said we’re heading to Kiymako and he thought I might be able to help.”

  “You’ve been there?”

  He nodded. “Many times; used to travel on a spice merchant. Even learnt the language. I’m Hanael, the ship’s cook.”

  “So you’ve spent a lot of time there then?”

  “I suppose so.” Hanael produced a second pipe from his vest and offered it.

  “Thank you but I don’t care much for it.”

  The sailor grinned. “Picked the habit up over there, actually – only whatever they smoke wasn’t for me. Made me hear strange things.”

  “Hear?”

  “Right. It’s hard to explain, if you’re a gambling man, try some yikho if you can get it.”

  “If – Ferne mentioned the harbour was closed?”

  “Not when I left but that was some time ago, to be honest. They’re a cautious type, the Kiymako. Slow
to accept outsiders.” Hanael sat on a nearby barrel, pipe in hand. “I hear you know the captain from his treasure-hunting days.”

  “True.”

  “Said you were different to anyone else he’d met, crafty too.”

  “Faint praise but it’s quite welcome nonetheless,” Never said with a grin.

  Hanael chuckled. “I only ask because I think you could help me as much as I you.”

  “Depends what you’re asking, I suppose.”

  “How about this – I teach you what I know, teach you the language, and you retrieve something for me.”

  “Such as?”

  “A ring with a small ruby. No King’s ransom, and it’s more the value I’ve given it, if you know what I mean? Once belonged to my wife; I lost her to illness years back now.” The man’s face seemed to contain no trace of duplicity.

  “I see. And how did you lose it?”

  Hanael cleared his throat. “Gambled on a sure thing – only I think my opponent cheated me. I made a bit of a scene, you see and now I’m not exactly welcome in Najin; that’s the harbour town.”

  Never nodded. “And the current owner of your wife’s ring?”

  “Isansho Shika. She sort of runs Najin.”

  “No small matter, then.”

  “I’ll do my best to make it worth your while, especially if you’re a fast learner. Have you speaking Kiyma in no time.”

  Never rubbed at his jaw. “I’ll do my best – which is pretty good, to be honest, but I’m not promising a miracle.”

  “No-one else is likely to help me.”

  “Then we’ve got a deal, Hanael,” Never said. “How about the first lesson over breakfast?”

  Chapter 4

  The banks slid by in an endless flow of dark water, verdant grass and beyond, pale birch forest competing with green. Days blended into one another as they approached the low lands, and the journey doubtless would have been a little tedious without Hanael’s lessons, since Never didn’t have to row or even plot a course. Thankfully, and as he’d hoped, Hanael was indeed fluent in Kiyma. The language had a kind of cutting rhythm and yet the words were longer; at first the changes to his breathing, had left him a little short of air, but as he’d suspected, he did learn quickly.

  Amouni blood was still the gift that wasn’t going to run short, it seemed. Whatever aptitude for the ancient language the Leschnilef had unlocked was now extending quite nicely to modern languages. Once the patterns became clear, and the rules around the correct sounds, he was confident he’d be speaking well-enough by the end of the voyage, which was still some weeks away.

  “How goes it, men?” Ferne asked as he approached one evening, his big beard preceding him.

  Hanael shook his head in awed disbelief. “You weren’t joking when you said Never was different – I’ve never met anyone that learns as quick as he does.”

  “So you keep saying,” Ferne said. He gestured ahead, where the river widened even further. “Stone Bell isn’t far, thought we’d take a night on land in their inn.”

  “Still a man of the earth, eh, Captain?” Never asked.

  Now Ferne frowned. “Nothing wrong with solid ground once in a while. You pay for your own meal and room.”

  “Gladly. And you can tell me more about the Eye.”

  “Only if you keep your mouth shut about it afterwards.”

  “On my honour.”

  Ferne grinned. “Didn’t think you had any left.”

  “Plenty to go around,” Never said. “I trust the inn serves more than fish?”

  “Used to.” Ferne glanced ahead. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  Stone Bell’s four-storey wood and stone inn slid into view, windows aglow in the fading light. The Swordfish docked at the sturdy piers, quite large compared to the smaller fishing boats, and most of the crew disembarked to pile into the inn, which even with the locals too, clearly had not reached its limit; it had enough tables for twenty more men.

  “So, how will you find her?” Ferne asked after the serving girl brought their drinks.

  “Go to the first temple I can and ask about a girl with Marlosi heritage. I suspect my father left her in one and it seems unlikely such a thing has happened often in Kiymako. If one temple harbours – or has harboured her – I’m betting the others will be aware of it.”

  Hanael nodded. “The monks have the best communication between temples I’ve seen anywhere. I’ve got no proof, but I always suspected magic or even divine assistance. If one temple knows about something, they all do,” he said. “The first and biggest problem as I see it, would be getting any of them to admit it. Foreigners are generally not permitted to serve the temples.”

  “But it’s possible?”

  “I never heard of it in Najin but maybe in one of the bigger cities like Takbisu or Mondami. I wouldn’t want to offer false hope.”

  Doubtless Father had found a way to pressure the monks to take his daughter in; he hadn’t drawn a protection-symbol for nothing. “What about the monks themselves?” Never asked. “How many of the rumours do I need to discount?”

  “Well, firstly, they aren’t all warrior-monks, though there are enough.”

  “And their so-called Temple magic, is that something to worry about?”

  Hanael grimaced. “Perhaps. Despite all my time there, I can’t say I ever saw it. Apparently only the most devout can perform such a feat. It’s called the lunai, and supposedly grants great power.”

  “I’ll wager half the Swordfish that lunai nonsense is just a myth,” Ferne said as he drained his cup.

  “Like the Sea God’s Jewels?” Never said.

  He grunted. “I still don’t buy it... but from what Hanael has told me you’ll have more trouble with ordinary folk. They won’t want to help you much.”

  “Because I’m a foreigner?”

  Hanael shrugged. “More that you haven’t proven yourself as valuable to the people. There’s also a long tradition of placing the needs of Kiymako folk before outsiders, in fact, it’s considered very poor form to do so and it’s grown stronger over the last decade.”

  Never frowned. “But on your last ship, you obviously spent a lot of time with the people. It sounds as though I’ll barely be tolerated now.”

  “Maybe that’s true enough. But for us, we were bringing much-coveted goods. Cinnamon in particular is highly-prized. When the Black Rock sailed I found that if there was ever a time when an outsider’s needs had to be weighed against a local, we sailors rarely came out on top.”

  “I should have brought some cinnamon.”

  Ferne nodded. “Pick some up at Furnam before we leave.”

  “A grand idea, Captain,” Hanael said. “That might cover Never’s second biggest problem.”

  One of the serving girls arrived with a tray of steaming potatoes and pork sausage.

  “Such as?” Never asked around a mouthful of sausage.

  “We’ve talked about it a little already,” Hanael said. “Remember the phrases for travel, directions and distances?”

  “Most of them.”

  “Even with that fair accent of yours you might not get far. Without a pass, you won’t be allowed to leave Najin and passes tend only to be given to a few merchants. And with the current situation, they might not work even if you get one.”

  “I’m quite nimble, you know,” Never said.

  Hanael chuckled. “Good, because I’m counting on your ability to get around unseen, but a pass might make it easier to visit the temples – there’s one in every single town and often between them, on roadsides.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “You two can figure out the rest without me,” Ferne said as he stood. “The Swordfish is leaving at dawn and I need my beauty sleep.”

  “Think just one night’s enough, Captain?” Never asked with a grin.

&n
bsp; Ferne slapped Never on the back as he passed. “Hard to say; I might wake up and find I’ve turned into a fairy.”

  “So long as you can still get me to Kiymako.”

  “You’ve paid your way, I’ll get you there,” he said. “Then it’s up to you to figure out how we get into the harbour without being burned to the waterline.”

  “I’ve got that under control, Ferne.”

  “Good,” he said, his voice nearly lost in the din as he started toward the stairs. “Tell me all about it tomorrow.”

  Chapter 5

  The Swordfish seemed to groan its way free of Furnam’s docks, as if laden by the new provisions taken on, including Never’s cinnamon, but the ship was soon picking up speed as the Lower Rinsa rushed toward the mouth of the Hanik Straights. The oars had been drawn in and the sail boomed as the ocean neared – a glittering blast of blue water and reflected sunlight stretching to the horizon’s bounds.

  According to Ferne and the Eye, it would be smooth sailing to Kiymako, a voyage of no more than two days, after which Ferne would continue east to deliver goods he’d taken on, the prized cinnamon among them.

  And for several days Never had managed to offer the former treasure-hunter only vague hints about his plan, yet now that they’d reached the ocean Ferne had come to the end of his patience as he stomped over to stand beside Never at the rail.

  “Before we go too far north, I’d like to hear how you’re going to protect the Swordfish, Never. The whole plan.”

  “If you promise not to laugh, I’ll tell you exactly what I have in mind for protecting your ship.”

  “Have you ever heard me laugh, Never?”

  “Not that I recall.”

  “Well, do I seem in a cheerful mood now?”

  Now Never chuckled.

  “So, speak up.”

  “All right, Captain. Ready? The Swordfish is not going to be fired upon because it’s not going to get near enough for that to happen. Once land is in sight, I’ll handle the rest.”

  “I’m not wasting a longboat on you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”