Chapter 211: Birdman

Chapter 211: Birdman

It took just under five days to steam the five-hundred-odd kilometers from Barstone to the heavily patrolled waters off Eastspar. By the end of it, even with Bakal and Mahria having sculpted and streamlined Temerity’s icy shell to the point that it mirrored the underlying knife-like hull, the vessel did not so much cut through the waves as plow through them. Tarny secretly suspected the one alteration from the ship’s original profile, the bulbous bow, might be responsible for that. Rain swore it was better, though he freely admitted his knowledge of the subject to be incomplete, and while he’d given them several shapes to try, he hadn’t been taking an active role in the design.

Indeed, very little of the captain had been seen since his excursion to the mainland.

They still won’t talk about what happened between them. At least they seem better now.

Tarny’s hands tightened on the telescope he no longer needed, staring at the enormous pair of lighthouses offshore in the distance, known together as the Golden Gates. Despite being kilometers away, they towered above the waves, marking the only safe channel to Splendor and Bellost beyond. The scale of the construction boggled the mind. It had been done at sea, too, and without so much as islands to serve as foundations. How far those towers sunk below the waves, he could only guess. If not for the cozy, filling crispness of Fall reminding him of how far he’d come, he was sure he’d have been staring at them in abject, slack-jawed awe.

The world is so much bigger than I’d ever imagined.

He glanced at Vanna, who Rain had tasked with overseeing the approach to the city on the tip of the peninsula, which was also visible now and impressive in its own right. He knew Vanna quite well, both from serving under her leadership when they’d both been lowly laborers, and after she’d risen to become second in command of Ascension. Like him, she had no business being here, but unlike him, she was doing a much better job of hiding how overwhelmed she had to be feeling. She’d always been good at that, though. It was why she made such a good leader.

Presently, she was engaged in a game of chess with Mlem, the two sitting across from each other at a wooden table beside the hatch set into the glacial wall behind them. Temerity’s top deck was flat now, crusted with sand brought up from the sea floor for traction and surrounded by a solid railing of ice. Much like a traditional ship, it also had a raised aft deck. Looking up from where they were sitting, Tarny could see Shu standing up there at the ship’s aluminum wheel, which was connected by a heavy chain and a series of gears to the rudder below. Very little had been seen of Tallheart of late, either, but that didn’t mean the smith hadn’t been busy.

Other than the sentries at the far bow, the only other person on deck at the moment was someone Tarny was trying not to think about, despite the old pirate having been instrumental in the ship’s transformation. Bakal was seated beside the chess table, perched atop a wooden stool entirely too small and watching the game as he enthusiastically snacked on an enormous basket of grease hoops. The battered and fried onions had been popular ever since Rain had first introduced them to the lunch rotation on the way to Three Cliffs. Tarny was sure that somewhere below, someone was complaining loudly about the basket’s absence from the mess.

“You have something to say, little man?” Bakal asked, lifting his eyes from the game.

His expression tightening, Tarny put aside his distaste to address what was really bothering him. “I just wanted to ask what you think you’re doing up here. The city will Scry us soon, if they haven’t already. What if they recognize you?”

“I would be flattered if they did,” Bakal replied, laughing and dragging yet another grease hoop through the thick, tomato-y sauce they were served with. “I have been out of the game for years and years. It would be satisfying indeed to learn that my reputation has survived my retirement.”

“But...” Tarny began, but the old pirate raised a hand.

“My charter is clean and clear of any accusations, as any self-respecting gentleman sailor’s should be.” He pointed with a meaty finger at the plain white scrap of canvas flapping from a pole above their heads. “That will draw far more attention than a plump old man watching a lively game of...sorry, what was it called again?”

“Chess,” Vanna said, moving a pawn and making Mlem deflate like a punctured wineskin.

Tarny’s scowl deepened, but it had nothing to do with the merchant’s defeat. Charter flags were yet another thing he’d been late to learn about. With the stranglehold the Bank had on international shipping, the flags they required traders to fly near Splendor had become the de facto standard of identification for ships the world over. In most places, it was perfectly fine to sail without colors, but near Eastspar, sailing without a visible flag would get you declared a pirate on sight, even if you were sailing a coracle. Especially if you were sailing a coracle. A craft so ill-suited to the sea was a sure sign that its occupant was a Water Mage of some description. Temerity, with its sheer size, lack of sails, and armor of ice, would send an even bolder message than that.

Thus, the white flag. It meant they had either lost their charter or had never had one in the first place. Though the fears of Temerity breaking apart had faded somewhat, the lack of a charter flag made stopping at Eastspar to talk to the Bank all but mandatory, which was another complication. Rain had made no secret that the Detection anchor he’d left ashore had been picked up not two hours later by a person with a ruby plate around their neck. The Banker had either worked out what Rain’s anchor was, or he was appropriately paranoid about random magical objects picked up from the ground. After a brief inspection, he’d destroyed the anchor instead of bringing it aboard the Goldship following them.

And it IS following us, no mistake.

Tarny looked up, shading his eyes as he sought Emerton against the backdrop of clouds while Mlem reset the chess pieces. With the metal wings Tallheart and Staavo had made him, and with Temerity’s icy deck now flattened into a passable runway, Emerton had become invaluable as Ascension’s airborne scout. Keeping close tabs on the Goldship was but one reason for his frequent patrols.

Spotting a metallic glint in the sky, Tarny lifted the telescope he still held and peered through it until he spotted the former noble, who was quite far away but gliding closer. What really caught Tarny’s attention, though, was the second figure behind. Even with the telescope, it was hard to pick out detail, but it was clearly a human, not a bird, despite the enormous hawk-like wings.

“Shu!” Tarny shouted, standing sharply and lowering the telescope to wave for the navigator’s attention. As the pale, foreign-looking man looked over, Tarny pointed at the sky. “Someone’s up there with Emerton! Take a look!”

“I will do this,” Shu called back, releasing his grip on the wheel and raising his hands. The air shimmered between his palms, and a pane of light appeared, not unlike those Val summoned but more transparent. “I can see him!” he shouted. “It is a feather-winged man, wearing green and with a silver three-pointed star sigil on his chest. His wings are broad, but unlike those of Emerton Sale. They sprout from his shoulders while his arms remain free, ending in cruel talons.”

“Shit,” Vanna swore, she and Mlem both having stood in abandonment of their game. “Is Emerton under attack?” She motioned sharply for the telescope, and Tarny quickly handed it to her.

“It does not appear so!” Shu called.

Vanna muttered to herself as she scanned the sky through the telescope, quickly correcting as she found her target. “I’ve got them. Shu’s right! Birdman’s just following him! It looks like Emerton’s leading him in!”

“The pointed star belongs to Citizen Eastspar,” Bakal added with his mouth full, not having risen from his stool. He sucked on his fingers, then wiped them on his self-cleaning robe, apparently unconcerned by their approaching visitor.

“Does the Citizen have wings?” Mlem asked, looking at the pirate. “Could he be, uh— Perhaps I should not say that thought out loud.”

Bakal shrugged. “The Citizen does not have wings. I would have heard about it if he did. It sounds like we have a Demishifter on our hands, one in his employ.”

“It’s somebody important, that’s for sure,” Tarny said, already headed for the tunnel. “I’ll get Rain.”

“Hold,” Vanna said sharply. “Rain was very precise with his instructions. We’re to dock at one of the city’s piers, including any negotiations or procedures the city has in place for doing that. He said not to disturb him until we’re in port unless we’re under literal attack or it looks like we’re not going to dock for some reason.”

Stopping short, Tarny turned, considering.

Rain left this to us? Is he testing us?

Vanna had lowered the telescope, no longer needed. As always, Emerton’s speed barely decreased until the last moment when he flared his metal wings. To Tarny’s surprise, given the fledgling Aeromancer’s past struggles, he actually managed a decent landing, windmilling his legs as he furiously tried to keep them beneath him. He skidded to a panting stop a moment later, but any congratulations for the improvement would have to wait.

Smiling, Rain continued. “For anyone with a Standard Combat Rating of three or less, this suggestion is NOT optional! For awakened who haven’t checked the codes in a while, remember that your SCR is not your level. If you don’t have your rating yet, you can talk to Samson to get one. If he’s busy, just party up like everyone else who can’t benchpress a yak.”

“What’s a yak?” Thrast yelled, only to be elbowed into silence.

“On the other hand,” Rain continued, “if you need a weapon to meet your SCR, you MUST take that weapon with you! Swords are not to be drawn from their sheathes in the city, but there is no rule against carrying them or other weapons. Magic is fine if it isn’t hostile or overly flashy, but err on the side of caution. Always announce what you are doing before you do it if its going to be visible. Note that if you have a Guild or Watch plate, you must wear it per city law, and if you are otherwise awakened, you must wear a red armband around your upper arm.” He tapped his bicep to demonstrate, then flared his cloak. “Ascension cloaks are recommended but not required.”

Letting his cloak fall again, he continued. “Second! In exchange for allowing us to dock, the harbormaster has demanded there be no offloading of trade goods from this vessel, but this does not include currency. In other words, you are free to buy whatever you want, but no selling! The spirit of this restriction is for large shipments of things like grain, lumber, and sheep, but also anything that might be seen as competition by Havenheild or any of the Bank’s other subsidiaries.”

“What’s a subsidiary?” someone yelled. Thrast again.

Rain shot him a flat look. “A group of yaks,” he said, drawing a snort from Carten. “Also, raise your hand if you have a question, please. Don’t just shout it out when the speaker is talking. I just finished training everyone.”

“Sorry!” Thrast shouted, raising a hand. “Still don’t understand, though!”

Rain sighed, realizing that maybe he was being a bit too hard on the underpowered silverplate. Both ‘yak’ and ‘subsidiary’ were words in common, but ones he’d only encountered in Staavo’s dictionary. It was perfectly reasonable for someone not to know them. Looking up, he made a placating gesture. “A yak is a woolly cow from Lemario, and a subsidiary is unrelated. That part was a joke. It just means a group that’s under the control of a bigger group.”

“Oh!” Thrast shouted. “A subsidiary! I know what that is! You said it funny!”

Rain rolled his eyes. “Anyway, as I was saying, I’ll be going to visit the Bank first thing to deal with the issue of our charter, so until then, I want everyone following the harbormaster’s rule to the letter! No selling! That means you, Mlem!”

“Boo!” it was Mlem’s turn to call, getting a wave of chuckles.

“Third!” Rain shouted, pressing on. “There will be a curfew! Everyone needs to be back at the ship by tenth bell. No exceptions! No staying overnight in the city! If you’re not back by ten, I will come and find you, and my mood will depend very much on WHY you are late! As a related point, do NOT disregard the constabulary! If you are arrested for any reason, deserved or undeserved, submit peacefully! Send a request for aid back to the ship if you are able to do so, and if you are not, I will come bail your ass out of whatever hot water you’re in when tenth bell rolls around! That said, if someone tries to remove you from the city, whether by the teleporter or tied up in the back of a cart, you are authorized to bash their teeth in! And while we’re on the subject of the teleporter, even if you can afford to use it, you are not allowed to do so without express permission from me AND ONLY ME! I can’t rescue you if you wander half a world away.” Pausing, he pointed at Ameliah, seeing she’d raised her hand midway through his monologue. “Yes?”

Hopping up on an Airwalk platform to address the crowd from where she’d been standing, Ameliah raised her voice. “I’ll be staying with the ship while Rain’s at the Bank, so if there’s any trouble, just come back here, and I’ll deal with it.”

“What she said,” Rain said as she dropped back down. “Thanks, Ameliah, I forgot to mention that. Where was I? Oh yea, fourth! While these restrictions clearly only apply to all Ascension members, I encourage non-members to abide by them as well. For those with sponsors, if you wish to part ways with Ascension, let us know so we know not to look for you when curfew comes. If you do not have a sponsor, get one, or get off!”

He paused.

“Okay, that came out a little rude, but to be clear, when we next sail, only passengers with a sponsor will be allowed with us! You know who you are.” He deliberately didn’t look at Thrast as he pointed at the city. “Finally, some general information! That street at the end of the pier is Wharf Street. There are a number of inns and drinking halls along it, catering to sailors, merchants, and so forth. The locals recommend Clair’s, the Thrice-Feathered Raven, and the Kilmen Brewhouse. The Guild is at the north end, at the very point of the peninsula. You are free to visit and take on any quests you’d like, provided that they don’t require you to leave the city. You may also register with them if you can prove you are awakened, if that is your wish.”

Rain shifted his finger, pointing south. “Exploring that way, on the other hand, might be a bad idea. Wharf Street becomes the Golden Row, just past that blue building, and it’s far less refined than it sounds. I won’t judge you if you are after rowdier entertainment, but stick to the codes. Do NOT be an asshole, and do NOT tolerate assholery if you can do something about it without bringing Birdman down on us. Use your brain, and come back for help if you need it. Also, if you go too far down Golden Row, you’ll be in Soggy Bottom. Trust me when I tell you that there is nothing worse than a soggy bottom!”

Rain turned back to look at the crowd, several people chuckling despite their lack of exposure to British television. He clapped his hands sharply, happy he’d managed to keep the mood relatively light through his entire speech. “That’s it! Shoreleave is granted! See you all back here at ten!”

Without waiting for questions, he turned away from the excited crowd, which was already climbing over itself in a rush for the gangway. He had to stop, though, as Shu was waiting for him, watching him with a hard-to-read expression.

Rain tilted his head. “What is it?”

“Do those include me?” Shu asked.

“Sorry? Do what include you?”

“Your rules of the ground, as you called them. Do they include me? May I go?”

Rain tilted his head. “Do you mean, like, go ashore, or GO, go?”

Shu paused for a long moment, then shrugged. “Either.”

Rain shrugged back. “If you just want to go ashore, go right ahead—with a buddy, mind. You can probably take care of yourself, but all the same. If you want to leave us, though, I suppose I’d have to clear that with Samson and Vanna. I wouldn’t recommend it, but it’s your life, and you’ve given me no reason to detain you any longer. You don’t really want to be on your own in the middle of the DKE, do you, though?”

“Actually, I...” Shu said, awkwardly looking down and fishing around in his jacket. “Here.”

Rain looked down at the paper the former Imperial had shoved into his hands, recognizing it as a copy of the asshole test. It had been filled out with Shu’s adopted name at the top, and scanning down the page, most of the answers looked correct. Behind his visor, Rain smiled, then extended a hand for Ascension’s newest member to shake. “I was wondering when you’d ask.”

Silently, Val slunk away from the stairwell, now having something more important to think about than whether Rain would allow him to partake in a few friendly Guild duels.

‘Detain him any longer,’ he said. Which means he WAS detaining him before, and not just for his own protection. No, with the badly-hidden accent, the fact he’s stopped pretending to be unawakened, and how familiar he is with the ship, I’m sure of it. Shu is no exiled Illuminator. He’s something else entirely.

Rubbing idly at his scarred cheek, Val glanced back at the Adamant soldier standing beside the helm, then quickly away.

Interesting. Very interesting.