The labored breathing paused. "Yeah."
"Don't fight it. Don't act stupid. Do your best and work."
"They're crazy," Jason muttered.
"We can't beat them. We have to prove we're good enough."
He took a moment to answer. "I'm not good enough."
"Yes, you are! Jason, you can do this. Just keep trying."
"I can't."
"Yes. You. Can. I know you can." She was lying, actually filled with fear that Jason would collapse under the pressure, but learning from her father how to spot truth in others had also shown her how to lie in a very convincing way. It wasn't a skill she was proud of, but sometimes it came in handy. And in this case it might save Jason.
Jason took much longer to answer this time. "I'll try," he finally said.
Kira dreaded the dawn, but discovered to her relief that the ordeal of the day before had been part training and part hazing of a new recruit. Having endured and survived, she was still subject to rough treatment but wasn't run to exhaustion. Jason made an obvious attempt to act better, putting his best effort into his tasks, and after a short spasm of additional maltreatment was also permitted to work alongside the rest of the crew. They learned by doing, members of the crew usually showing them how to do something once and expecting them to pick it up immediately. Kira, who had sailed on ships before, gained a new appreciation for the work that went into the ship, from frequent trimming of sails to working the bilge pump. The height of the mast gradually grew familiar, so that she could climb all the way to the top without balking.
Kira had worked hard at times in her life, but never this hard.
Late on the second day, a passing sailor gave her backside a lingering pat. Kira's leg flashed out as the sailor walked away, planting the flat of her foot on his butt and knocking him down. The sailor came up with a snarl and rushed her, Kira ducking under his charge and then flipping him so that his back hit the deck with a wham. As the sailor got to his feet again, one hand reaching for the knife at his belt, the first mate intervened. "Enough of that. You know ship's rules, Ori. No pawing at anyone who doesn't want it. I'll remind you that this girl is underage besides, and no one better be giving cause for port police to come aboard this ship looking for those who messed with a kid."
Ori nodded. "Sorry."
"Shake on it and be done."
Kira and the sailor shook hands, he eyeing her with respect. "How'd you do that, girl? Dump me on the deck? Can you show me?"
"I can show you," Kira said.
The winds at this time of year weren't favorable for sailing east, so the sails needed trimming frequently as The Son of Taris beat her way east-northeast, tacking back and forth to make slow progress.
Dinner was salt pork boiled with potatoes and onions. After the physical exertions of the day, Kira wolfed it down. The rest of the crew did the same, barely pausing in their eating until bowls were empty. They ate on deck for the clean air and the room it offered. The fifteen men and women who normally made up the crew in addition to the first mate and the captain filled the crew quarters. With Kira and Jason added those crew quarters were cramped.
"Do you know any stories?" one of the sailors asked Kira as everyone relaxed. "Anything new?"
"Yeah," another said. "You've been to Tiae? Did you ever meet the daughter or hear any new stories about her?"
"No," Kira denied, worried about telling these sailors things that would reveal who she was. "I'm not much for stories."
"What about you?" the first sailor demanded of Jason, clearly not expecting much.
Jason looked back at the sailor, then around at the rest of the crew. "You mean, like, some epic or something?"
"Whatever you got, if it's new. We've all heard each other's stories until we can tell 'em all by memory."
Jason glanced at Kira, who nodded to him, curious to know what he would do.
"All right," Jason said. "Have you guys ever heard of a sailor named Odysseus?"
"Funny name. Where from?"
"Uh, Ithaca. It was an island, in a sea a lot like the Sea of Bakre. This is a story they tell where I come from, a really old story, about a place like this only different. Odysseus had brought ships and soldiers to fight in a war that took ten years…"
Kira listened with growing admiration as Jason spun a story about strange islands with strange creatures, a bag that held the winds, and a sailor trying to get home. As he spoke, he grew more energetic, making gestures and acting out the story of galleys with white wings sailing the wine-dark sea. The crew listened raptly, not interrupting until Jason finally stopped after Odysseus reached home and killed all the men who had been trying to steal his home and his wife.
The applause that followed made Jason blink with disbelief.
"Where did you hear the like of that?" a sailor asked admiringly. "Did you make it up yourself?"
"No," Jason denied. "A guy named Homer did, a long time ago."
"Do you know more?" another of the crew asked eagerly.
"Yeah. There are a lot more."
"Tomorrow night, then," the first mate said. No one had noticed her stopping to listen along with the others. "It's time to trim the sails, and then you'd all best rest because you'll be doing it again at least twice before dawn."
Everyone groaned as they got up and headed for the shrouds.
"I don't get it," Jason whispered to Kira as they climbed. "They…they seem to like me."
"You're a good storyteller," Kira told him in a low voice. "And you told them a great story. They respect that."
"But they hated me before."
"No, they didn't respect you," Kira said. "Carry your weight, and you'll be accepted as one of them. Go beyond that, prove they can count on you, and they'll respect you. Keep working hard, keeping showing them the Jason they listened to tonight, and you'll be fine. Why didn't you ever tell me that you're a storyteller?"
"I'm not," Jason protested. "All I did was tell them a story that someone else came up with."
"But you did it really well. They wouldn't have listened if you had done a bad job of it."
They got the sails trimmed and went below to the dark crew quarters. Kira fell asleep almost instantly, but awoke when the first mate called for everyone about midnight.
She was worn out. But she felt good. None of them knew who her mother was, but she was working well enough to fit in.
Her mother. Kira wondered what was happening back on land.
* * *
Dorcastle.
Mari had been back to the city every year since the great siege. The only anniversary she had missed had been soon after the death of her son Danel, whose namesake had fallen at Dorcastle. Every other time she had held herself together through the commemorations, speaking with the surviving veterans of the battle, paying respects to the dead. Every time she had been a wreck afterwards, her sleep haunted by visions of fire and dead comrades.
The siege had ended nearly twenty years ago. It still raged inside her. She wasn't alone in that. Even lighthearted Alli would get moody around the anniversary of the battle at Pacta Servanda where she had helped smash the Syndari attack, and Calu never wanted to visit the spot where Mari had fallen at Dorcastle.
If only there were a way to explain it to Kira.
So many times had Kira confronted her after the anniversaries, tears running down her face. "Why do you go, Mother?"
The only words Mari had ever been able to come up with were never enough. "I go for the living, and I go for the dead."
"But it tears you apart!"
"Kira, if I didn't go, it would hurt far more."
Her daughter didn't understand. How could Kira comprehend that it was possible to be able to live and find joy and embrace the world while also carrying memories that sometimes were very, very hard to cope with? Especially when Mari herself found the words locked within her?
As the Rocs brought her and Alain to the city after another flight through most of the night, Mari looked down on the walls she had once
helped defend and had never been able to leave.
"Where are they?" Mari asked. Any city she visited generated crowds, but Dorcastle brought out the biggest ones. They gathered to watch and to cheer, and she smiled and waved.
Captain Hagen, who had stood with Mari on the last wall and was now Dorcastle's senior police official, indicated a barge that was moored apart from the others. She walked to it, Alain beside her, seeing a family on deck gazing at them as they approached. Mari didn't like seeing the fear on the faces of the two adults. "Good morning," she said.
The woman looked about to collapse as she stared at Mari. "It was her. I swear, daughter of Jules, we didn't know!"
Mari reached to hold her hands, speaking soothingly. "You are not accused of anything. You have done no wrong. I'm not angry with you."
"My wife dealt with them," the man said.
"But you stand with her," Alain commented, as if no other course of action was possible.
"Y-yes, Sir Mage. Of course I do."
"We put them off on the first landing," the woman said. "They never gave their names. They talked to each other a lot. They were in good health when they left us, Lady, I swear it!"
The young boy standing next to his father startled Mari by speaking loudly. "He was nice! He taught me math!"
Mari stared at him, kneeling to be at his level. "The boy? He taught you?"
"Because I didn't like it, but he showed me how to do it," the boy said. "He's from Oz."
"Oz?" Mari rose, looking a question at the mother.
"He did, Lady. The boy. I didn't ask it of him. He wouldn't take any payment." She held out several crowns. "This is what they paid for passage and for food and blankets. That's all of it, I swear it."
Mari folded the woman's hands over the coins. "Then you earned it fairly. You have my thanks for bringing them safely to this city. I will tell the city to release your barge and let you continue your trade. Thank you," she repeated. Mari looked back at the young boy. "He was nice?"
"Yes, Lady," the boy said.
She, Alain, and Captain Hagen talked as the barge was released to return to the docks where its cargo would be sold. "There's no reason to doubt her story," Hagen said.
"She spoke truth," Alain confirmed.
"About dawn of the day after they say they dropped off your daughter and the boy, there was a gunshot on the waterfront. When the local patrols got there they found three known criminals unconscious in an alley. The shot had come from a revolver that was lying with them."
"They shot someone?" Mari asked, suddenly frightened.
"Shot at, perhaps. There was no trace of blood in the alley or on the street outside. My people were on the scene very quickly. There would have been no time to clean up blood."
"But nothing since?" Alain asked.
"No, Sir Mage."
"You know I am but Alain to you, comrade of the wall."
Hagen smiled. "Even after so long it still feels odd to call you so, Alain."
"They didn't try to board any ships?" Mari asked.
"Not that we know of. But an even dozen ships left the harbor in the early morning before we realized they might have snuck aboard one of them. Our one steam cutter pursued, but only managed to run down a single ship, and the two were not aboard."
"Where were the others headed?"
"All over the Sea of Bakre, Mari."
"Blazes." She looked up. "Trouble is likely to follow us to Dorcastle, Captain."
"The ship from Urth?"
"Yes. They've warned us they will soon use 'active measures' if the boy isn't found."
"I had heard that the commander of the ship is the boy's mother. Would she risk harming him by hasty actions?"
"She cares less for her son than for that which her son took," Alain said.
"That sort? And the boy's the same?"
"No," Mari said. "He can be a little difficult to tolerate, but he has a sense of responsibility for others, is trying to do what is right, and risked revealing himself in order to help a little boy understand math. If you find him and my daughter—and I think you're right that both have sailed from here, but if you do—I request that you listen to both of them and do as they ask."
"A request from you is as good as an order," Hagen said. "Will you visit elsewhere in the city or must you move on?"
"At the moment, we don't know where else to move on to. We will visit Sergeant Kira's relatives as usual."
"Could you stop by the last wall?" Hagen asked. "One of those who stood with us died recently. His family will be there this afternoon for a memorial service."
"I will be there," Mari said. She smiled and reached to take Hagen's hand. "Even after so many years, we all still stand together."
As they walked past the crowds, Alain spoke to her. "You seem more relaxed than you have ever been here."
"I am. Isn't that odd? Kira fought her own little battle here, didn't she?"
"Three to one and she left them unconscious. Bev will be pleased."
"Maybe Jason helped," Mari said. "I know that sounds ridiculous but…he helped that little boy."
"He has also put our daughter in great peril," Alain reminded her.
"That was our daughter's decision. You know it was." Mari looked at the nearest wall, still pocked with the scars of war. Her hand went to the place on her upper body where a bullet had once entered. "She's picking up the banner we didn't even ask her to bear, Alain. Maybe that's what I needed to find more peace. To know that the world we worked for, fought for, will be in good hands. Kira will make her own decisions. But if what has happened so far is any indication, they'll be good decisions, as we always hoped. I know that now."
* * *
The next day the ship from Urth arrived at Dorcastle, settling on the cliffs that ringed the city on two sides. The great silvery ship looked down on Dorcastle like a looming fortress magically raised in an instant. The citizens of Dorcastle, the city that had never fallen to attack, looked up at the ship from Urth with mingled defiance and resolve.
"Are you certain that we should do this?" Alain asked as he and Mari prepared to go meet with the people from Urth. "Confronting them again holds danger. That woman looked upon you when she spoke of 'active measures.'"
"We have to talk to them," Mari said. Her expression grew wry and self-mocking. "Haven't you heard the talk on the streets? The daughter is in Dorcastle! Nothing can threaten this city while she is here!"
"If you ever started to believe that of yourself," Alain said, "I would be even more worried."
"I have to act as if I believe it," Mari said. "Not arrogant, but sure of victory. They need to see that. And since the Master of Mages is beside me, we should be able to handle anything that happens. Remember, if you have to take action, do it quickly. As fast as possible. If we catch them off guard, they won't be prepared to 'scan' you when you do a spell."
"We cannot be certain of that," Alain cautioned.
"You've seen them. They don't think any of us are a threat. Including you."
"I have seen this, and heard it," Alain admitted. "What is magic?"
"Something the Urth people believe can't hurt them, even though they think they can use something about your talents to hurt other people," Mari said. "How much heat did you create above your hand that time you demonstrated for them before we realized we shouldn't?"
Alain shook his head. "I barely warmed the air."
"And they probably think that's the best you can do. Alain, other Mechanics and I have tried to use our devices to detect the power that Mages draw on for their spells. We've never succeeded. Maybe the Urth people can't spot it, either. How much could you do if you couldn't access the power the world holds?"
"You know this," Alain said. "Only the tiniest of spells. No Mage can do more with only their own strength. You are saying that if the Urth people do not believe that other power exists, they would assume that is all I could do?"
"They should know better," Mari said. "They've seen the Rocs
. But that would mean admitting we know something that they don't." She squared her shoulders. "Give me a kiss, my Mage. And then let's go see if we can keep this situation from getting any worse."
They walked to the waterfront. Alain, certain that there would be trouble this time, prepared himself to quickly cast spells. Areas near the water did not have the strongest concentrations of power, but there should be enough for whatever Alain needed to do.
One of the smaller flying craft left the large one, making a long, slow pass over the city before angling down toward one of the open areas on the waterfront. It came to rest, waiting for Mari, Alain, and their escort to arrive.
Alain wondered if the people from Urth realized that they had set down near the same spot where the Great Guilds and the Imperials had demanded the surrender of Dorcastle. As omens went, it was not a good one.
Captain Hagen had joined them with a squad of his best, looking ceremonial in their dress uniforms but with weapons at their belts that were ready to use. Whether a few Mechanic pistols, a score of swords, and an equal number of hardwood clubs would accomplish much if needed, Alain did not know.
He saw soldiers taking up position on the wall that looked down on this portion of the waterfront. Those soldiers, though decked out in their finest scarlet uniforms and standing like an honor guard, had the Mechanic weapons known as rifles. The Bakre Confederation still bought most of its weapons from the workshops of Master Mechanic Alli of Danalee, so Alain knew those would be the best rifles the world of Dematr had to offer. What he could not know was whether they would be of any use against the protection the boy Jason had said that the Urth people wore.
An opening appeared in the side of the smaller flying craft and Talese Groveen stepped out, this time followed by two other people, both holding objects that did not look like Mechanic weapons to Alain but had a disturbing sense of being weapons nonetheless. The two were relaxed, casual, looking around with indulgent smiles at the city and people of Dorcastle.
"Your day is more than up," Talese Groveen said, standing in nearly the same place where Imperial Prince Maxim had once stood.
"We're looking," Mari said, her dark Mechanics jacket an odd complement to the black pantsuit worn by Talese Groveen. The two women looked at each other, neither of them backing off in the least. "We are trying to ensure that your son is found without risking harm to him," Mari emphasized.