Chương 172: 86. I've Been Better

When Maev finally emerges from the captain's quarters, clutching her spear in a white-knuckled grip, eyes red and puffy from crying, the sight of it nearly breaks Talla's heart. She'd seen what happened at the tribunal with her [Clairvoyance] spell, including Lady Shaa's betrayal. Talla made sure to send word back to her mother about that, but whatever comes of it is out of her hands now.

Mother will no doubt be upset about Talla's choice to go on a journey in the midst of what promises to be a very bloody political fiasco—if not outright civil war—but she's made her choice. Besides, Rara has always been better at that sort of thing, even if she hates it. Maev's haggard appearance only reinforces that decision. For all that she is only a few years younger than Talla, the human is still just a young girl. The world she came from is different.

Safer, maybe—more peaceful, at least in the place she'd lived. Maev hasn't grown up the way Talla did—hasn't learned those hard lessons, until now. Talla approaches her friend carefully, making sure to get her attention so as not to startle her. She can be jumpy at the best of times, and this is not the best of times.

"Maev, it's good to see you're awake," she greets her, politely pretending not to have heard her crying for the last hour.

"How are you feeling?"

"Talla. I've been better," the human croaks, voice hoarse.

"It's good to see you, too." The proper greeting suggests that it's probably Allison speaking. Not even most Fa'aun observe the etiquette of greetings as carefully as she does. It could also be Evelyn or Violet, but the priestess would have used her title and Violet would more probably have skipped the pleasantries. It's always an interesting exercise trying to work out who is speaking, though they've told Talla that it's okay to ask if she isn't sure.

"Do you have any lingering pains?" Talla asks.

"You've been out for almost an entire day and after how much you overdrew that spell, your strain should be the worst you've had since we met."

"It would be easier to tell you what doesn't hurt," Maev chuckles weakly, then winces.

"We took one of the tinctures for the strain, though I don't think it's helping much. The bullet in my chest is probably the big one, though." Oh, good. If she hadn't already, then Talla would have told her to take one.

"Which one did you take? How are the effects?"

"The smallest one for negative expression. Uh, minimal? Vi says she barely noticed a difference." Probably too small a dose, then. Then again, the smallest of the doses the Alchemist left was almost comically tiny. If Maev wasn't so small, Talla would have thought it was silly to start the dosage so low, but the fact that she noticed the effects at all meant that the Alchemist knew what he was doing. Not that it comes as a surprise.

"We'll give it half a day for the effects to wear off, then try the next one up," Talla promises.

"[Cool]," Allison—and it was definitely Allie if she was using foreign colloquialisms like that—sighs.

"And the bullet? I'm really hoping to get that out of me. I'm not sure what they're made of, but if it's the same as our world then it's probably toxic." Talla grimaces.

"It is mildly toxic," she admits.

"But I can't remove it." Allie blinks, as if surprised that Talla can't just magically remove a bullet from a wound that already should have killed her.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know where it is," Talla huffs.

"There's a scar where it entered, and I can safely guess that it's below that, given the angle of the shot, but that leaves too wide a possible area. I'm not a surgeon, and even if I was, rooting around in your chest cavity to find a bullet— that you've forcibly healed over —is a quick way to a painful and bloody death. I warned you about the consequences of that skill."

"We didn't exactly have a choice," Allie grumbles.

"Well, frick. Lead poisoning and pain when we breathe it is, I guess."

"We'll try to find a better solution," Talla promises.

"But it's beyond my means at the moment."

"Okay," she sighs. Allie pauses to look around, but the lower deck is mostly empty, aside from a few sleeping sailors. The ones that are awake either suddenly remembered something that needed swabbing above deck, or became intensely focused on whatever game they were playing when she emerged.

"So where are we?" Allison asks.

"I mean, Jira's ship, obviously, but where are we going?"

"The captain's been cagey about it," Talla replies.

"We sailed just out of sight of the coast after leaving Stebaari, and she's been navigating by Goddess only knows what ever since. She clearly has a destination in mind, but she hasn't told me what it is. I think Fargo knows, but he's being obnoxious about it." Allison nods slowly, leaning on her spear.

"So Fargo's still here. And you."

"Your new serpentfolk friend has tagged along as well," Talla explains.

"Wherever you decide to go, we'll follow." The human's eyebrows rise—an expression that Talla has always thought looks a bit funny on a face without fur.

"Where I decide to go?" Talla nods.

"I'm thinking probably not the empire for a while, if we can avoid it. And of course you'll have to convince Jira to actually take you there, but it's up to you."

"Why?" It's a fair question. Talla's almost not even sure of the answer herself, but she's spent enough time thinking about it to give an answer.

"Fargo's always interested in the new and unique, and you're about as new and unique as it gets," she says.

"I can't speak for Msshi, but they seem surprisingly laid back about it."

"Don't they have a partner back home?"

"They mentioned that, yeah," Talla confirms.

"But all they wanted me to do is pass on a message that they wouldn't be home for a while."

"Huh. And you?" Allie asks. Talla smiles mirthlessly.

"As much as I'd like to say it's because we're friends, there's a bit more to it than that. I feel responsible for you. Like a child that I've taken in and failed to protect."

"I'm not—" Allie begins to interrupt, but Talla holds out a hand to stop her.

"I know," she sighs.

"You're not a child, but that doesn't change how I feel. I was selfish. You know so many interesting things from your world, and they're a source of levels for my core class, which is already hard to grow." Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators! She scuffs her hoof on the deck guiltily and scratches the base of her horns.

"I was excited and a little overenthusiastic, I think. I promised that you'd be safe, but I failed to keep that promise. I let you down, and I let Draga down. On some level, I still want to be the ranger that he saw in me, even if I could be a spoiled brat sometimes. But now I don't have a team, or even really an order. Just you. You're all that's left of the dream I was chasing when I first left home—and I'm not ready to give up on it. Or you."

"Okay," Allie sighs again, and Talla notes the uncharacteristically laconic replies as a sign of severe strain.

"I still don't see how that means I should be the one making the decisions." Talla shrugs sheepishly.

"Last time you followed my recommendation it didn't work out so well. Besides, I may have traveled the wilderness but I've never actually left the empire. I'm no more worldly than you are."

"What about Fargo, then?"

"He's already been everywhere," Talla says.

"I think he's more interested in seeing what you'll do than taking the lead."

"So weird," Allie grumbles under her breath.

"Alright, I guess. Um, thanks. I know I probably sound ungrateful, but I'm not. I really appreciate everything you've done for us, I'm just..." She trails off and Talla shakes her head.

"I understand. Nobody is going to blame you if you need more time to collect yourself."

"Yeah, no, I think I've done enough 'collecting,'" she mutters.

"Let's go talk to the captain. No wait—first I want to find Fargo. He's still got my worm." * I usually feel better after a good cry, but between the exhaustion from Vi's healing skill, the regular plain old-fashioned exhaustion, and the magical strain fricking me over from every direction at once, I just feel drained. Clutching Draga's spear like a safety blanket, I follow Talla above.

Thankfully nobody wants to call me out on the weapon I'm hugging like a stuffed animal, because if they did I might have to demonstrate what else it can do. I shouldn't be so crabby, and I feel bad for Talla, but I have not been having a good time. The sun is high in the sky when we arrive on deck, its heat offset by a cool sea breeze.

We're surrounded by the ocean on every side, except the south where I can just barely make out the distant mountains poking out between the horizon and the ever-present planetary rings. All around us, sailors scurry back and forth shouting at each other and doing sailor things. Even after my last trip, I still have no idea how to crew a ship. Msshi has already found their sea legs, despite barely having any actual legs.

I spot them coiled around one of the masts while a sailor walks them through, uh, rigging the...? You know what? I'm going to quit while I'm ahead. Something with ropes. Fargo is more laid back than I'd expect Jira to allow, leaning idly against a railing while he engages the captain in quiet conversation. How lucky that the two people I need to talk to are together. We meander over, a little unsteady on my feet as I get used to the rocking ship—it's much worse than it was on the river.

Fargo spots me immediately and raises a hand in greeting.

"Miss Maev!" he calls.

"Awake at last!"

"Fargo," I greet him. His companion darts out of the satchel at his side and curls around one of my legs. I reach down to give her a scratch.

"Hey Taaka sweetie! I don't have any snacks, sorry." For once, the lack of treats does not deter the greedy little cat-ferret, and she scampers up my side to cling to my shoulder and nuzzle my cheek affectionately.

"Aw, you're too sweet," I sigh, then lean in to whisper conspiratorily.

"If you ever get bored of Fargo, you're always welcome to join us instead." Taaka looks back to her partner and scratches her chin in a shockingly human expression, as if considering the offer.

"Stop trying to poach my lifesworn companion!" Fargo complains with a grimace.

"And you stop taking the offer so seriously." The ferret chitters dismissively at him and flicks her tail before settling in on my shoulders. Fargo shakes his head helplessly.

"The mouth on her, I swear," he sighs.

"I take it you are well after your, er, episode?" His clumsy attempt to be delicate is immediately smashed apart by Captain Jira rolling her eyes and scoffing.

"Goddess save me from you fragile little flowers," she groans.

"The girl lost a friend and cried her throat raw. Good! Nothing to be ashamed of. If she went through all that without shedding a tear I'd throw her overboard." I'm honestly grateful for her straightforward acceptance. Of everyone, I feel like Jira is the one I understand the most. Msshi, Talla, and to a lesser extent Fargo have all uprooted their lives in some way or another to follow me, and I still don't quite understand why. It makes me nervous in a way that I can't quite articulate. But Jira?

I get the impression that she's always like this. She says and does whatever she wants whenever she wants, and doesn't let anything as silly as logic or reason get in the way. She's the sort of person Maggie pretends to be.

"Thanks, Captain," I say with a small bow.

"And Fargo, speaking of partners, where is Nipper?" He frowns.

"His cocoon should have been in the room with you. Ah, but there's a trick to finding it. He hasn't even finished his evolution and he's already starting to display strange properties."

"A trick to it?"

"Easier to demonstrate than explain," he says.

"I'll show you later." Alright, I guess.

"In that case, can I ask where we're headed?" I ask.

"Talla says you wouldn't tell her." Fargo snorts and Jira rolls her eyes.

"It's no great secret," the captain chuckles.

"Fargo's just being an ass." I glance between the pair of them as something clicks.

"You know each other." Fargo nods.

"I've traveled with Degala on a number of my expeditions. Including my farthest one yet, all the way north to the far continent."

"In the middle of winter," Jira complains.

"The damn ship got stuck in the ice for a season. My granddaughter nearly murdered me. She'll probably be just as mad when we arrive this time."

"You're taking us to your village, then," I observe.

"Tribe," Jira corrects me gently.

"Degala is at home wherever her fleet takes her. That hasn't changed just because the empress has pinned us to one place for a while."

"But that is where we're going?"

"It is," she confirms.

"I'm overdue for a visit, and the ship could use a few minor repairs." Talla crosses her arms and huffs.

"Why didn't you just say that?!" Fargo grins.

"The location of the tribe is a secret. I'd never betray the chieftain's confidence."

"How can it be a secret if the tribe is claiming the territory as part of the empire?" she argues.

"The location isn't secret," Jira clarifies.

"But the way to reach it isn't something we share lightly. That's why I'm doing the navigation myself. It'll be a few days to cross the sea, and another day or so to locate the tribe, so make yourselves comfortable." Cross the sea?

"Just how big is the Stebaa Empire anyway?" I ask.

"The sea we're on now is called Stebaasa," Talla provides by way of an answer.

"Stebaa was founded by the unification of all the tribes living on the fertile parts of the coast under the banner of the most powerful clans in the Sagaa region." In other words, the people living on the giant river got rich enough to conquer all their neighbors and call it an empire.

"Not all the tribes," Jira reminds her.

"But yes. As Baanu's daughter says, the empire is bigger than the delta upon which it was founded."

"I guess we've still got a lot to learn," I muse.

"There's one other thing I wanted to ask about, though..."

"Then ask, child," Jira chuckles.

"If I don't want to answer, I'll just say so."

"The Alchemist said something about augury," I explain.

"And implied that you'd know about it. It sounded like he knew what was going to happen to us. Did you?" She frowns, then locks the wheel of the ship into place and turns to face me directly.

"No. Not in so many words," she replies seriously.

"I do not know the Alchemist, nor do I know how he knows so much about me. So I do not know how he perceives fate. I am, to paraphrase, a Captain of Her Own Fate. To me, it is a winding river, and the path is never certain." Captain Jira stares over my shoulder for a moment, gazing wistfully out at the sea.

"When my path on that river crosses another's, I can navigate around it, or into it, but I never truly know where it will lead," she explains.

"I am, however, very good at being where I need to be. It is a skill that has served my tribe well for decades—and perhaps the only reason my granddaughter puts up with me."

"I see," I murmur, not really sure if that answers my question.

"Anything else I can do for you, little [baddie]?" she asks.

"I don't think so, no," I reply.

"You've already done more than I could ever ask." She shrugs and turns back to the helm.

"I've done nothing worth praising. That anybody would think otherwise is a mark of shame on the young clans and their self-described empress. Use my quarters to rest for as long as you need."