Chương 30: 29 The Ash Zephyr

"Master gunner. Report," Naomi said.

"We have maybe three hundred balls in the locker," Bebi said as he fiddled with the lock on the chest I had stolen from the Sultan. The chest had sat in my inventory for almost two days before I remembered I had stowed it on my way out of the black tower. The Coredwarf bit his tongue as he worked the pointed saw knife around the lock.

"Let's see," he continued, half-focused on his task.

"Forty-five grapeshot canisters, thirty chain shots, and twenty bomb shot shells." He pulled his saw from the chest, trailing sawdust.

"Barely enough for a prolonged fight," I said.

"Looks like she's outfitted for raiding."

"It sure is a lot more than we have," Captain Thalendris said. He glanced over the bulwark at the port settlement of Los Colmillos. Around us, our sailors hurried, carrying barrels, stitching tears in the sails. Someone tapped the hull, checking for rot. We only shared the port with one other pirate. Some Orc we didn't know. I didn't care to be social. I'd had my fill of pirates.

"All of your orange steel is there," Bebi said.

"All forty tons of it. It's part of the reason we're sitting so low." She nodded.

"Good. Five hours until cast off. The mission's not over until we dock in Paradise." I folded my arms tightly.

"I know we're mostly safe here," I said, glancing out over Los Colmillos.

"This is the part where something usually goes wrong."

"Victory never sits comfortably," Elara said, toned arms bare in her vest.

"Best not to delay."

"How's the gun locker, First Mate?" I blinked stupidly. Right, first mate—that was me.

"It's overfull with the inferno rifles it was issued with. I've also got all the guns from Snapfist's crew. A lot of random calibers and barely enough ammunition to keep them useful. I think I should thin down the arsenal." I glanced at Bianca.

"Perhaps we can trade the gear of Snapfist's crew to the Sparklock Cousins for some brass cartridge guns." My hand rested on my new pistol, courtesy of Brilla Lillbigun's private collection. Gnome make. Her rifled brass cartridge carbine sat loaded in my inventory. Those two alone would be worth more than practically the rest of the arsenal put together.

"How does she sail?" Captain Thalendris asked.

"Slow," I said.

"Both in speed and response time. And I think that's only partially due to the load. She's got a lot of armor and guns. She's built to punch and take her own licks. Not run-down sloops made for speed."

"I prefer mobility," Captain Thalendris said.

"And you're going to need a substantial crew to keep her guns running."

"Honestly, we may need to keep her in port until we figure that one out," Naomi said.

"We're Cousins, not naval officers." She glanced across the deck, smiling mournfully.

"In fact, it's possible we may need to sell her or hire an adjunct captain."

"We are not selling our ship," I said, placing a hand affectionately on the wheel.

"Do you have a name for her?" Captain Thalendris asked.

"Or are you keeping her original name?" Its name was stenciled onto the black iron plates on the hull in some Primordial language. Bebi was the only one who could read it. Apparently, it translated into something like the Hot Death Flame or something else childish.

"Figured we could name her after her sister," Naomi said.

"The Ash Zephyr." Captain Thalendris' eyes sparkled.

"I'm honored."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Naomi said.

"Let's see if we can even keep her above water for more than a week."

"Ah, hah!" Bebi cried victoriously as the chest lid popped open. He held the locking mechanism high, cut free. A vial attached to a trigger device protruded from the back.

"What'd I tell ya? Trapped." A glint caught my eye, and I hurried over to examine my loot. Cut garnets, topaz, emeralds, peridots, and a dozen other stones I couldn't begin to recognize refracted the sunlight. Bebi let out a low whistle. Ingred practically started salivating. I reached in, plucking out a ball of chalk and a ring set with an icy crystal. My terminal flashed into being. <<Magic Item: Chalk of Grip.

Apply this chalk to your hands, feet, or an item for the following benefit for as long as the chalk remains: Cling to any surface for as long as the chalk remains in place You cannot be disarmed by conventional means You will not accidentally drop any items Mount an item to a wall or ceiling up to two hundred pounds. It will not fall unless someone plucks it off>> My gaze shifted to the ring. <<Magic Item: Ring of Cold Resistance.

While wearing this ring, the user gets the following benefits: +2 points of cold resistance Remain internally warm in cold environments>> I glanced into the chest, and a few other small items were outlined with white system light, indicating they were magical.

"Wow, Tony," Ingred said.

"Looks like you're rich enough to buy our drinks for the next year." My eyes glistened at the wealth within. The chest wasn't massive, barely the size of a loaf of bread, but my family hadn't even dreamed of this kind of money. I shut the lid, a square hole gaping where the lock had been.

"No," I said.

"Fetch Ignis. I have a promise to keep." While we waited for the registrar, I dug through the gems, finding a Bracelet of Grace, which bumped my Grace by one. I also found a Charm of Shearing, a coin with a line threaded through it, that let a mundane blade cut through things without physical substance. That would have been nice when facing off with that Primordial. I gave Bianca the grip chalk, then offered the ring to Ingred. The Winter Artillerist shook her head after I explained what it did.

"Already got some decent cold tolerance," she said.

"You keep it."

"Keeps someone warm?" Bebi asked, shivering as he pulled his jacket tight.

"If it wouldn't be too much of a bother, could I—" he trailed off.

"It's just so flaming cold." My brow rose, and I shielded my eyes from the sweltering sun.

"You're serious?" He shrugged.

"I was practically born in a furnace and raised in a bonfire, so yeah. It's a pretty chilly day." I had no problems with it; the guy was growing on me. I handed it over. The moment the ring slipped on his finger, he let out a long, satisfied sigh, as if sipping tea at a campfire after hiking barefoot twelve miles through snow.

"Naomi. Bracelet of Grace?" I asked, offering the brass circlet.

"Feel like that'd be best in the hands of our fencer," she said.

"It's yours, Tony. Keep it." I nodded, inwardly grateful that she had refused. In my profession, Grace was a non-negotiable. I knotted the charm of shearing by the time Ignis arrived on the quarterdeck. A Primord woman came with him, as well as a young Primord man who was clearly the perfect mix between his mother and father.

"Ignis," I said, chest tucked under one arm.

"I promised you'd be paid. Then we doubled back on our word and used the tears." I extended the chest.

"I don't know how much the Ashbreakers promised for the tears, but I hope this will help compensate." He took the box and lifted the lid. His wife gasped, hands flying to her lips. Ignis's jaw worked soundlessly, and he shut the lid.

"Thank you," he said, voice soft and devoid of emotion.

"You know," Naomi said.

"We're trying to crew this ship. We could use a man with your skill set. What do you say, purser?" She dangled the title like bait.

"No," Ignis said.

"We're going to Terra Slab. I'm done with this war. I just want a quiet life with my family." This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. He nodded with finality.

"I'll do it," his son said. Ignis flinched, whirling on the boy. No, he had to be closer to my age—a young man.

"Absolutely not," he said, voice sharp.

"Why not? I studied supply and logistics at Ash University. What was the point if we're just going to be hermits on a mudrock?"

"It's not a mudrock," Ignis growled.

"It's a new beginning." Their timbre suggested they'd had this argument many times before.

"Dad, I'm not a child. I'm allowed to choose."

"You have no idea what I've done to secure a new life for you," Ignis hissed, glancing at us, flushed with embarrassment.

"You never asked me what I wanted to do," the young Primord countered.

"This is it. I want to go out adventuring. To experience the world."

"What do you know of the world?" Ignis demanded.

"You don't know its dangers."

"And you think the world is much bigger than it is. You think you can run, Dad. You think Terra Slab is safe? I'd rather train and learn than hide." He motioned to us.

"They're prepared for the war. You're not." Ignis' eyes flashed, jaw working soundlessly.

"Listen," my words ventured between them cautiously.

"What's your name?"

"Solen," he said.

"Your dad's right, the World Archipelago isn't a safe place. A Cousin's ship is probably the most dangerous vessel you could choose. You understand that, right?" Solen's eyes flickered to my saber, and his head nodded once.

"You could teach me to fight. I could keep your books tight, manage your contracts."

"I'm serious," I pressed.

"So am I," he said.

"I'm tired of being just a bookkeeper. Who cares about a long life if it's herding pigs and living in a hut? I want to make a difference. I want to be strong."

"Foolish youthful whimsy," Ignis growled.

"You don't even know what adventure is."

"Well, maybe I just want a choice for once." Naomi glanced at Ignis.

"We're not pulling you from your family. Want to come with us? Get his approval." She pivoted fully to Ignis.

"You're not wrong, it will be dangerous, but we're Cousins; any one of us would gladly throw ourselves between a bullet and our crew members. There's a lot we can't control, but the things we can control—" she nodded.

"We'd take good care of him." Ignis shifted, gripping his box of gems.

"You didn't have to do this," he said, cracking the lid open.

"But you also went back on our original deal." He snapped it shut.

"I'll—think about it."

"Thanks, Dad!" Solen said, his hot purple face splitting into a grin.

"I said I'd think about it!" Ignis growled.

"That's not a yes." Solen forced his face neutral, but the edges of his lips twitched up.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm afraid we're not going to be able to take you directly to Terra Slab," Naomi said.

"We'll get you to Paradise, then get you passage on a safe ship that'll get you there soon." Ignis tensed, like he was about to protest, but his wife put a hand on his arm.

"Thank you," she said.

"We're casting off in five hours," Naomi said.

"You guys have everything you need?" Ignis gripped his box tightly.

"We're ready."

"Good," Naomi glanced at me.

"We have something we need to take care of before we leave." Naomi gripped the lamp tightly. Less than half a mile away, the silhouette of the Los Colmillos Boneyard loomed in the gathering fog. We fanned out on the stony beach, each taking a position. Neither of our ships was in view. Both were far enough that Nahla wouldn't be able to repeat her powder magazine trick. I pulled my Bracer of Heat Resistance tighter down my arm. Things could get hot fast, but we needed to end this.

"You're sure you don't want to keep her?" Ingred asked.

"A chained Efreet is as good a weapon as I'll ever see."

"No way," Naomi said.

"At a certain point, the risk of a weapon outweighs its utility. This is one of those weapons."

"Bebi's right," Bianca said.

"We could just lash the lid shut, drop it in the ocean. This is dangerous."

"No," I said.

"She helped us. She may be an Ash Lord, but I don't think rewarding cooperation with abandonment is wise."

"Wiser than setting her free?" Ingred said, her arcane rings flaring as her hands flexed.

"No. Naomi. You're going to get us killed. With the chain at least we're in control." Naomi exhaled sharply.

"We're setting her free." She glanced around, seeking more objections. Bianca settled into a fighting stance, and Ingred's lips pressed into a tight line. I nodded. On this, I agreed with her.

"If you're going to do it, do it," Bianca said.

"I'm breaking her neck at the first sign of trouble." Naomi swallowed, nodded, then removed the lid. Red smoke hissed from the spout. Nahla suddenly existed, facing away from us towards the water, hands clasped behind her back.

"You'll answer our questions honestly," Naomi said.

"If we made you swear to let us leave unmolested, would you be bound to that word after we cut your chain?"

"No," she said without turning.

"All former compulsions would be void." I forced my shoulders to loosen.

"What would you do if we cut you free?" I asked. She turned, finally facing us.

"Punish you for your insolence. Make you pay for daring to give me orders." She grinned.

"I'd savor the sound of your screams and lock them in a memory I could revisit for all time."

"You understand what we'd have to do if you attacked us?" Bianca asked.

"I do," she said.

"You realize we'd win, right?" I asked. She shrugged.

"I'm not so sure." I drew a dagger, crossing to the lamp in Naomi's hand. After a pause, I plucked the chain.

"You ready to find out?"

"Wait!" Ingred said.

"I really feel like we're wasting an opportunity here. She's a shackled Djinn. What about a wish? Maybe she could get us Prisoner's Retaliation. We could save Granduncle." Nahla rolled her eyes.

"Do I really look like the type of Djinn who could rewrite reality?"

"But," Ingred said.

"You're a Djinn."

"And there are thousands of us," Nahla sneered.

"Do you really think we could have a functional society if we could just rewrite reality? Perhaps all the Ash Lords working together could, but me?" She laughed, voice laced with mockery.

"No deception. Can you fulfill wishes or not?" Naomi asked, gripping the lamp tightly. The chain shimmered.

"So long as you hold the lamp, your wish is my command, but I can't grant wishes," Nahla said.

"Want me to get Prisoner's Retaliation? Fine, I'll just swim to Drake, fight through all of Krathic-Thar's armies, kill dozens of fully grown dragons, and take it from Puppetmaster with my own two hands." She kicked, flicking the chain that glittered around her ankle.

"Oh, and you'll have to walk behind me the whole time. I have a leash."

"We get it," I grumbled.

"You don't have to be a reef rat about it." I looped the chain around my dagger. She stiffened.

"You're—actually letting me go? Why? You have all the leverage. Why give that up?"

"Because people don't belong in chains," I said.

"Not even the guilty?" she asked.

"Idealistic and naïve."

"Perhaps the guilty," I said, rolling the links between my fingers.

"But this isn't punitive; it's not security. This strips your agency. No one deserves that. Not even you."

"But I deserve death?" she asked.

"We all know this will end in a fight."

"That's up to you," I said.

"Once again, we're returning your agency."

"Why?" she asked again, more confused. I'd missed what she was really asking.

"What do you think about us?" Naomi asked.

"As Paradisians?"

"Self-righteous, arrogant, idealistic…" Nahla shrugged.

"Weak?" I asked.

"Objectively, no," she said.

"The Bloodwake would have crushed you if you were weak. Your High Family is an indisputable superpower." Her brow creased.

"And that confuses you," I put together.

"Yes," she confessed.

"Why?"

"Because," she said.

"The strong should take their due. This idea of protecting the weak is illogical and unnatural. Your perspective on what others deserve is overly generous." She shifted, dragging her chain.

"I wasn't strong enough to avoid this. Therefore, it's what I deserve."

"No," I disagreed.

"It's not."

"You're not going to reform me," she warned.

"Not even if you hold all the cards."

"Still," Naomi said, lamp dropping down to her side.

"We're talking, that's good. It's rare. I imagine we'd bridge more gaps if we made greater efforts to communicate."

"I doubt that," Nahla said.

"The truth is, our societies exist with fundamentally different values. So long as that remains, we can never reconcile. We live in reality, where you must be powerful to survive, and you exist in an artificial bubble where even those who should have died continue to weaken your gene pool." My lungs tightened, her claim filling me with heat. She was right; we were different creatures. We wouldn't reconcile here.

"What would a weak person do in our shoes?" I asked.

"How would they deal with you?" Her lips curled, flashing the points of fangs.

"Order me to kneel and bare my throat. They'd know they couldn't win; they'd let the chain do its work, then they'd end me while I was helpless."

"Then keep that in mind when I do this." I glanced at Naomi. She nodded. I jerked the hilt of my dagger. The chain popped with almost no resistance. The links dissolved, the entire line disintegrating to dust. Nahla's eyes widened, her chest rising as she took a deep breath. A low growl escaped her, like a tiger who'd discovered its enclosure open. I wanted to adopt a fighting style, to brace for combat, but I forced myself to maintain a neutral posture, sword still in its sheath, dagger low at my side.

"So, are we doing this?" I asked, my shoulders tightening. Her eyes snapped open.

"No," she said, voice low.

"Why not?" I demanded.

"I changed my mind," she said.

"Why?"

"Like respects like," she started towards me, steps slow and measured. Frost coalesced between Ingred's hands, and Naomi's daggers leaped from their sheaths, suspended in the air. I held up a hand, waving them down. Nahla's posture wasn't an attack. It could have been a deception to close the gap, but I read something else into it. My head craned up. She stood head and shoulders above me, a halo of flickering heat waves hovering behind her head. She bent down—and kissed my brow.

My skin prickled with heat where her lips touched flesh. Straightening, she touched the red skin on her chest.

"Monster—" she reached forward, caressing the discolored rash patches on my face.

"Monster." Every hair on my body prickled as I forced myself to meet her gaze. Nahla shifted towards Bianca, locking eyes.

"Monster," she declared, and Bianca flinched, going pale. The Efreet mistress doubled back towards Naomi, her cruel smile crooked.

"Tyrant," she purred. Naomi's eyes hardened. Nahla finally turned to Ingred and frowned.

"Like recognizes like," she said.

"We are not the same, Winter Mage. You are too pure, and it will be the death of you." She stepped back, folding her hands before her.

"Leave this place. If we cross paths again in the future, may it be as peers." We watched her for a long moment before wordlessly peeling away. I took the rear, walking behind the others. I got six steps before I hesitated, glancing back. The Efreet raised her fingers to her eyes, signaling that she was watching. Her smile caused my fingers to twitch. Monster. I turned back, hurrying after the others. Will over blood. I plucked both mutagens from my belt and drank them.

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