Chương 108: 25. I Still Trust Them

Sitting cross-legged on a cushion in Jira's quarters makes me feel like a kid being forced to visit the principal's office in school. The captain looms over me, even seated, the light shawl around her shoulders doing little to hide the muscular frame beneath. Oddly, she matches my cross-legged posture—something I've never seen another Fa'aun do, and for good reason. It looks uncomfortable.

"I'm glad to see you getting along with the crew," she says, breaking the silence.

"I was beginning to worry that I'd offended you." I blink. That's not how I was expecting this to start.

"Um... no?" I hedge.

"Well, Evie might have been offended but..."

"But that's her default anyway," Maggie quips uncharitably. Jira doesn't hear that, but nods slowly.

"Good, good. At my age, I sometimes forget to be polite—not that I was much better in my youth."

"Not at all. You've been... gracious, I think." It's hard to find the right words in Fa'aun, but I really do appreciate Jira giving us transport despite all the trouble we caused back in Sagaasi, and she's been an attentive host during the last few days.

"You're nervous," she observes.

"Even afraid. Why? Have I given you reason to fear me?" I clear my throat awkwardly.

"With respect, captain, you're twice my size and probably much higher level. This is your domain. I know you won't harm us, but I have no power."

"Even though you have my protection, as a guest and crewmember?" I don't have the words to explain the implicit threat that exists between us. I've got her favor now, but if that changes for any reason I've got no illusions about Talla or Draga making a difference. I'm entirely at her mercy.

"For now," I say instead. She chews on that for a moment, and I take advantage of the lull.

"You're not upset with us?" I ask.

"For the fight?"

"That?" Jira snorts.

"Barely a scuffle. My grandsons got into worse scraps before their horns even came in. Bora likes to paw the ground, but he doesn't commit to the charge. It's good that you stepped in before your other selves could stab him or worse." I wince.

"You noticed that, huh?"

"I know what happens on my ship," she replies simply.

"You're the little [baddie], yes? Allison." She goes out of her way to pronounce my full name, despite the difficulty.

"Yes," I confirm.

"It was Violet playing the game."

"A good head for numbers and strategy, that one," she remarks.

"Not so much people. But you knew Bora wouldn't strike." I scratch my cheek.

"I didn't know, but it seemed to me like he was... what's the word? [Bluster], [bluff], ugh, he was not serious." Jira strokes her chin and nods.

"You truly are different. Not that I didn't believe you, of course, but that's not the same as understanding."

"We do our best," I reply with a shrug. A brief silence stretches out between us, and I don't know what to say. I'm about to ask why she did bring me in here if not to chastise us for the fight, but she ends up speaking first.

"We'll be arriving at the coast soon. Tomorrow, I think. The crown jewel of the empire, Stebaari." There's a sarcastic lilt to her voice that's hard not to pick up on.

"You don't sound impressed."

"It's a city," she says with a shrug, a far-away look crossing her features.

"Even among the old tribes, my people aren't fond of them. Edifice and artifice. A facade of civility to hide the savagery happening within. The so-called 'Empress' is little more than a warlord, and you'll find no safety in her demesne."

"Uh..." I trail off, not sure how to respond. She snaps out of whatever reverie she was in and shakes her head, smiling.

"Ah, don't fret, little [baddie], just the bitter ramblings of an old woman. Tell me, do you trust the rangers?" That's an odd non-sequitur.

"Yes," I confirm.

"I owe them my life. We would not have made it this far without them."

"Why?" she presses.

"Evelyn said that you are from another world. Dungeon borne. Do you believe that you are safest in the company of the rangers—or perhaps just the noble lady?" I open my mouth to argue, but pause for a moment. I do trust Draga and Talla, and I genuinely do owe them my life. But it's a fair question. Am I really safest with them? I've never considered it because I didn't think I had much of a choice.

"Talla has sworn to help me," I tell her.

"And Draga..." I hesitate, considering how tight-lipped the rangers have been when it comes to discussing any details of their mission with outsiders.

"I probably shouldn't say." Stolen novel; please report. Jira nods.

"Your loyalty does you credit. Yet I ask you to consider—all the reasons you gave to fear me, do they not apply to the rangers as well?"

"They do," I admit. In fact, I felt exactly the same way around Draga for a long time. It was only when we started to get to know him better that I was able to relax more. I've seen how strong he is. There's not a doubt in my mind that if he ever wanted me dead, I wouldn't live long enough to find out about it.

"Especially Talla," Violet points out. That gives me pause. Talla? Really? Maybe it's because she's a girl or because of how strung-out she seemed when we met, but I've never felt threatened by her. But if I stop to think about it, it's an even more potent comparison to Jira. Talla's help isn't just her help. It's the implicit connections of her family. Her power as a member of the ruling class.

I like her, but there's an argument to be made that if we accept her help, we're at her mercy—on an even deeper level than the protection Jira grants us while on her ship.

"But I still trust them," I decide.

"Then all is well!" Jira exclaims with a grin.

"I hope you all find what you're looking for in the city." Before I can reply, she holds up a hand to silence me, her tone growing somber once again.

"But in case you don't, my ship will remain in Stebaari for a time," she says.

"If you are ever in need of a friend, find me." That's an incredibly generous offer, but I furrow my brows. I usually prefer not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but dang it, I barely even know what a horse is anymore.

"Why?" I ask, mimicking her tone and posture as I turn her own question back on her.

"Hah! You're more bold than you seem," she chuckles.

"In my tribe, our crew is our family. Once, that would have been meant literally, but the tradition remains."

"Even new recruits?" I ask.

"People you were paid to transport?"

"Even so," she answers steadfastly.

"Perhaps you find that strange, but that is who we are. That is why I resisted Sir Draga's request to screen my new crewmates. I'm already quite selective about who I invite into my family." I cross my arms, frowning.

"Except when a noblewoman pays you, apparently." Jira leans forward, still smiling, and with a single well-practiced motion she reaches out and casually flicks my ear.

"Ow! [Holy frick!] Why does that hurt so much?!" I cry, clutching my head.

"A level too bold, little [baddie]," she chides me gently.

"Do you think Lady Shaa's payment is why I agreed to transport you? Do you think Maari did not understand the gravity of what she was asking? You insult her, me, and yourself. Think before you speak."

"Sorry," I grumble, rubbing at my stinging ear.

"I didn't mean to be ungrateful."

"I know. You are young and unfamiliar with our customs. I forgive you. In truth, that skepticism will serve you well in Stebaari. The city is a place where loyalty can be bought and sold."

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you." Jira gives me another small bow and climbs to her hooves with a small grunt of effort.

"Good! Blood and acid, how do you sit like that?"

"Shorter feet and more flexible ankles," I answer, following her lead.

"Though being sixty years younger probably helps."

"No doubt!" she laughs.

"Well, though our time together has been short, I'm glad to have met you Allison. Know that you—all of you—are always welcome aboard my ship."

"Thank you for all your help," I reply with a bow. It's not a natural gesture for me, but it's easier than trying to mimic the Fa'aun duck-nod.

"I still don't understand, but thank you." She pats me on the back roughly enough to send me stumbling a few paces forward.

"It's the privilege of youth to live without understanding! Enjoy it while you can, little [baddie]!" [Level up!] Student is now level 6. +1 Will (E'ava'al'n). I don't know which is more annoying. The fact that Evie's [Student] class is outpacing my [Teacher] so quickly, or the fact that it leveled up from Jira calling me a dumb kid. * We rise early the next day—not that we've been able to get much sleep on the busy ship—with Talla informing us that we'll be arriving at the city soon.

"Are you feeling any better?" she asks as I pack up what few belongings we have.

"A bit," I sigh.

"I'm still sore, but it's not as bad as it was, and the bleeding has stopped."

"Good! Have you got everything accounted for?" At her prompting, I take stock. I've got my knife, my spear, our pack, Allie's clothes—complete with spare sets taking up most of the space in the aforementioned pack—a mana candle that Maggie snuck out of the makeshift duffel bag at some point, Nipper, and finally my prize from yesterday. A sailor's salary isn't actually that much, it turns out, but Talla was still impressed by how much I took from the game.

"I still can't believe you won your first game of Fusion," she grumbles.

"It took me years to get a good enough grasp of the game to keep my siblings from fleecing my festival allowance every holiday."

"Aren't you the oldest sibling?" I point out. Talla coughs and looks away.

"Anyway! Good job! Though I don't think you made many friends in the process." I glance over my shoulder to see... what was his name again? Bola? Bofa? The sore loser glares balefully from a distance. He hasn't done more than give me the stinkeye, but he's really nursing that grudge.

"Give him a few days," Allie reassures me.

"He'll forget all about it."

"We're probably never going to see him again," I reply with a shrug.

"And I feel a bit better knowing that we aren't completely reliant on your support for our survival." Talla winces.

"Not to undermine your independence, Vi, but without citizenship, you'd have a pretty hard time living in Stebaari even if you made twice that much every month." That figures. I'm not even surprised, to be honest. The more I hear about the Stebaa empire, the more I regret agreeing to go to the city. Between the blistering heat and deadly wildlife of the desert and the heart of an imperialist dictatorship, I honestly might rather take my chances with a river maw.

"Don't make that face," Talla grumbles.

"You'll be safe as my guest, I promise! And we'll get your paperwork sorted out in no time!" I don't even know what face I was making.

"Vi, come on, you're hurting her feelings," Allie prods me.

"Sorry," I sigh.

"I appreciate it, really. I'm just... anxious." At least with monsters I know they're trying to kill us. People are more challenging. Is Bofa plotting to murder me, or just sour about losing? Was that guy that Allie called out legit after all, or is he just biding his time? Since encountering the Fa'aun, we've experienced no fewer than two attempted murders—though the last one started as a kidnapping. I don't trust the church. I don't trust the empire. Draga and Talla, yes, but the rangers as an organization?

Not a chance. Not Talla's family, definitely not her cousin's family. After Jira's warning, it occurs to me that the city isn't a place of safety at all. It's like she said—edifice and artifice. The dangers aren't gone, just hidden, and if anything there are more of them than ever. It almost makes me want to turn around and take her up on the vague offer she gave Allie, but I don't trust her either. As we head above deck and watch the ocean appear over the horizon, I hold my spear in a white-knuckled grip.

Whatever awaits us in the city, it's up to me to keep us safe.