up at the ceiling. Someone had painted brightly colored flowers and vines on the wood, curving up the empty parts of the walls to the ceiling. “It’s so pretty in here. Did you decorate it yourself?”
The cook nodded. “I had to do something to brighten up this dark little hold.” She pointed at a brilliant yellow circle in the corner. “I bring my own sunshine.”
Aristia looked at Leina with a smile. “Yeah.”
Benu sat cross-legged on the upper deck, looking back at the coastline of Kyratia as it slipped off into the distance. The last rays of sunset shone on the tops of buildings, while the streets were already cast in shadow; above them all, he saw the snowflake perched on top of the alabaster dome of the Temple of Deyos, glowing pink in the dying light. His home for so many years, and now he was leaving it behind. The memories would not slip off so easily.
He whispered a prayer to Deyos, the Allfather, for the success of their voyage.
On the lower deck, a young woman came up the steps from the hold carrying a covered pot. Just then, a particularly large wave crashed into the ship, and she swayed precariously with her burden in her hands.
Benu got to his feet and hurried down to her. “Here, let me help you with that,” he said, clasping his hands over hers.
She looked up, and their eyes met. He saw the flicker of confusion in her face, just like everyone else had when they looked at him for the first time: trying to place his parentage. Port cities like Kyratia had people from all racial backgrounds, but mixed people like him were rare. But then that look melted away in a warm smile.
“Be careful, it’s very hot,” she warned. Her hands shifted under his so he could grasp the rags wrapped around the handles. When he had it, she reached up and brushed aside a curl that had escaped from the red flower-print kerchief tied around her hair. “Thank you.”
Benu nodded, then looked around, at a loss for where to put the pot down. “Is there a cabin or room where we eat?”
An eastern-looking woman suddenly jumped down from the rigging. “We eat on deck when the weather ain’t bad.” She grabbed a barrel and rolled it over next to one of the benches, then slapped the top. “There’s a table for you.”
“Oh.” Benu recovered from his surprise and set the pot down on the barrel, then looked back at the young woman. “Can I help you with anything else?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s all coming up.” She turned and pointed back at the stairs.
The apprentice girl Aristia had already scampered up with a stack of plates, and other crewmembers came up behind her, carrying various dishes and pans full of food. Captain Mynta herself emerged with several bottles of wine, and the musician, Genara, followed with glasses. Within moments, there was a hearty meal assembled on the deck, and the other passengers had come out of the cabins to join them.
As they passed around supper, Benu looked around at the small group. He counted only ten people: five passengers and four crew. Eirenaios had disappeared in his cabin as soon as they left port and hadn’t opened the door again since. There was just enough food for them, but what about the others who worked on the ship? He looked up in the rigging but saw no one else. He cleared his throat. “Will the rest of the crew be eating later?”
Captain Mynta shook her head. “This is the crew,” she said firmly. “We don’t need many.” She began pointing to the others. “Rei is my first mate,” she said, pointing to the tall woman with the almond-shaped eyes and light brown skin of Itteki in the east. Next to her was a white, sunburned, tow-headed man who must be from the north. “Yuri is our pilot.”
The captain turned to the tall man, who had the leathery, rough look of the western islanders. “Nikephoros is the quartermaster.” She pointed to the young woman with the bright kerchief last, who was brown and short like an average Seirenian. “And Leina cooks. We do what needs to be done on the ship.”
Benu tallied them up in a glance: an islander, a northerner, two locals, and an easterner. He knew that ship crews were often a mixed bunch, picking up hands at any port, but this bunch seemed unusually diverse. “Quite the motley crew,” he said.
The mage Ameyron looked up from his food in surprise. “Only five? Surely even a boat this small needs more than that.”
Mynta placed a hand on the ship’s rail and smiled like she knew some secret. “Miscreation is a special ship. She takes a light touch.”
Ameyron’s eyes narrowed at the captain. “And these are all the fighters that you take to hunt monsters.”
“We manage,” Mynta snapped back, glaring at the mage.
Ameyron cleared his throat. “Obviously you could use a physician’s help after all.” He pointed at Yuri’s missing leg.
Rei’s head snapped up with a cold stare. “No monster did that.”
Yuri put his hand on the first mate’s shoulder, and she calmed down a little. “It’s an old injury,” he said lightly.
Ameyron dug around in the over-sized sleeves of his mage robes and pulled out a little notebook. “Well, we’ll test this team with something small.” He thumbed through the pages, then stopped on one. “Ah, here we are. The fangfrogs in the wetlands on the Melusine islands. Those aren’t far south from here, so it seems like a good first stop, yes?” He looked over at the captain.
Mynta nodded. “We should be there by tomorrow afternoon with this wind.” She uncorked one of the wine bottles and poured a glass of red, then handed it to the mage. “Would you like to make a toast for our departure?”
By then the sky had grown darker, and the glass reflected the dim light of the lanterns as Ameyron lifted it. “To, uh, to Miscreation and her crew, and all the rest of you,” he muttered, gesturing vaguely to the others.
Benu had given his share of public sermons, and he felt bad for the awkward mage. He got to his feet. “If I may say a few words,” he said, bowing politely to the captain first and then the mage.
“Oh, please,” Ameyron said gratefully, sitting back down.
Benu refused the glass of wine from Mynta and raised his hands in benediction. “I ask for the gods to watch over this ship and everyone she carries,” he intoned. “I ask for guidance from Deyos, the Allfather, and compassion from his bride, Lygeia.” He turned to look out over the rolling waves. “And I ask for safe passage from Nissa, the goddess of the sea.”
Some of the others murmured in response, and he resisted the urge to look back and see who was praying with him. He was there to help on the research mission, not insist that every person practiced Deyonismos. Questioning their religious beliefs would not win him any friends on board.
But when he had waited an appropriate amount of time and returned to his seat, he couldn’t help but notice that the lovely Leina had her head bowed. She glanced up at his look, and her lips curved upward in another smile.
Benu smiled back and held up his empty plate. “Supper was delicious.”
She looked down again, suddenly bashful. “Well, I do what I can when we have the supplies. Fresh ingredients aren’t always easy to come by at sea.”
Mynta lifted her wine glass, already half-empty. “Our generous benefactor has funded this lovely meal. We may eat well all summer.”
Leina stood up and started gathering the dishes.
Benu moved to help her. Relations were strained between the crew and passengers right now, but he saw a chance to make at least one friend, and he wasn’t going to miss that.
Late that first night, Rei pulled her husband up onto the forecastle when everyone else was asleep. She’d already laid out a blanket for them underneath the stars. When his eyes widened with realization, she smiled at him. “I told you we’d find some privacy together,” she whispered into his ear.
Yuri rested his crutch on the railing and eased himself down onto the blanket, then held a hand out to her. “Will you come join me, my dear?”
She stretched out next to him and kissed him slowly, running her nails down his back and savoring his closeness. During the day she tried to behave professionally aroun
d the others, which made her crave these intimate moments even more. The fact that there were two passengers sleeping below them, the priest in one cabin and the physician in the other, didn’t bother her at all. She could be quiet when she wanted.
But part of Rei stayed alert for movement on the deck below them just in case, which was why she heard a sound from the other end of the ship.
Rei broke away from Yuri’s kiss and sat up straight. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.
He craned his neck to look. “I don’t see anyone. Relax.”
She saw a tiny figure sneaking to the upper deck in the back and pointed. “There. I think it’s that little girl.”
Yuri lay back down on the blanket and reached for her again. “She’s probably just playing a game. Don’t worry, she won’t see us.”
Rei got to her feet, pulling her unbuttoned shirt closed over her chest. “I’m just going to go check on her.”
Her husband settled back with a sigh, knowing better than to argue when something was bothering her. “Fine. I’ll be here when you get back.”
She tiptoed on bare feet down to the main deck, careful to stay in the shadows between the hanging lanterns. When she reached the other end, she could hear the little girl’s voice faintly on the breeze, singing a song. Rei climbed the stairs up behind her, placing her feet lightly on the edges of the wooden steps where they wouldn’t creak, and crouched as she peeked up to catch a glimpse of