Chương 18: Close Quarters

Miriam knew a thing or two about lying. She considered herself an honest woman, more or less, but in a life as long as hers no one could embody any ideal perfectly. As a younger woman, she had lied frequently in her travels when the need arose. As a parent, she had been lied to more than she had thought possible before having children. Then, as a business owner at various times, she had stretched the truth or schemed to compete against rivals. She had developed a fairly well-tested method for getting away with it.

Tell the truth as much as possible. Lie only where it matters.

"I was a prisoner," Miriam panted, dripping pathetically on the deck of the Líadan, having just emptied an entire canteen of water.

"A Wisp named Solas summoned me from the Realms Above and kept me caged in his basement for a month before I escaped. He had a canoe, and I once worked hand on a ship, so I thought seeing if I could find one to join would be a good way to get out of the Golden Swamp." There was a long pause until a man with a thin, waxed moustache said bluntly "What?"

"Well, I didn't know there would be sea serpents!" Miriam said self-righteously.

"We don't have them where I'm from."

"No, no, not that… you say you're from the Realms Above?"

"Oh… yes. Is that… unusual?" Miriam played up her ignorance - big eyes, thirsty for knowledge.

"Of course it is!" The man took off his hat, a tricorner felt abomination that looked as if it had gotten wet too many times - like it had been part of a costume never intended for life at sea.

"It's basically the stuff of legend!" Róise rolled her eyes.

"This is Captain Cormac Fiadh. He is easily entrapped by tall tales and stories of adventure. But what he's saying is true - what you're telling us is pretty unbelievable." She noticed seven other crew mates all gathered up and peering in on the conversation.

"Back to work, the lot of you! Time's plenty for gossip but who knows how long this wind will last?" The crew grumbled but shuffled off to whatever job they were supposed to be doing at that moment, leaving Miriam, Cormac and Róise alone - or as alone as one could get on a ship this size.

"I don't know how I can prove it to you," Miriam said.

"Just let me stay on board until you get somewhere you can drop me off. I won't be any trouble." Róise pulled Cormac aside out of Miriam's earshot.

"Don't you think it's all too convenient? That Miss… wait, what's your name again?" She called over to the dryad.

"Miriam Callihan."

"That Miss Miriam Callihan shows up just one day after we find ourselves in need of more hands, in this spot where we have been listing off-course. Anyone who rows a canoe into the ocean is either an idiot or has reason to believe a ship will be there. And with a story like this?" Cormac shrugged.

"A Wisp kidnapping a woman and keeping her in their basement is not so far-fetched. But feel out her fórsa density." Róise glanced back at Miriam, who was trying to force more drops of water out of the empty canteen.

"I did. It's… like a child's. Barely woven at all."

"Even in the First Ring, in these barren wastelands, have you ever felt anything like that on someone her age? Can she even use forms or techniques?"

"I thought I saw her create some vines in the serpent's mouth before I jumped in. Might be standard Life Nature dryad stuff. But nothing that anyone with any respect to their name would call a technique." Cormac looked at Róise shrewdly.

"Nothing else striking you unusual here?" Róise snorted.

"You mean that her hand was basically cut in half and healed almost before we got back to the boat?"

"Is that a dryad thing? I've only met one or two before." Róise shook her head.

"I don't know. But that's what's throwing me for a loop here. You usually see that sort of regenerative rate on someone with huge masses of fórsa - we're talking Fourth or earned Fifth maybe. How can she be Fifth Ring power with First Ring technique?" Cormac grinned, his eyes twinkling.

"Unless she is from the Realms Above?"

"Really, Cormac? We're out here chasing fairy tales now?"

"Weren't we already?" Róise grumbled, but she conceded the point. Cormac let his grin fade and looked at Róise in the eyes.

"It's a mystery, for sure! And you know I love a mystery. But more than that… you and I are Thirds. Based on what you've seen of her, is there anything Miriam could do to thwart us in any way?" This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"No," Róise admitted.

"As of now she's the weakest person on this boat."

"Ship," Cormac corrected.

"So what's the harm in entertaining one mystery while we're on our way to solve another?" Róise sighed.

"Fine. We actually do need another deckhand. Those three fools from yesterday might have been mutinous buffoons, but we're sorely missing them on deck. One more will help - assuming she does know the first thing about working on a ship."

"Also," Cormac said, one hand on her shoulder.

"I think you should offer to teach her Life Nature."

"Cormac, I am a terrible teacher."

"You absolutely are! That time you tried to teach me knots I swear I got worse than when I started. But it'll give you more time to dig into her story, see where it falls apart. At the same time, it might make her more useful if we do come up against a scrape." Róise grunted.

"Ok. But we handle her my way, understand? I don't want you mooning over her like you used to do those girls at The Shack back on Reilly Street."

"Just like on Reilly Street, I assure you my interest will be purely educational."

"That's not what those girls used to tell me." Cormac grinned.

"Oh, not at all! I can assure you, I learned a ton." Miriam watched the two confer. Róise, the first mate who had saved her life, was a fairly easy read. She didn't trust Miriam and was wary of letting her stay on board. That said, she didn't strike Miriam as someone who would just chuck her back out into the drink to die, so it was likely that what was being decided was how much of a prisoner Miriam would be, and how much of a deckhand.

Miriam wasn't an expert on sailing ships - her last jaunt on one had been sixty years ago - but the crew looked run down and haggard. She suspected one more hand would be welcome. The captain was harder to decipher. The first impression she got of the man was someone who was happy to be invited to the picnic - not a general or frankly even a captain, but someone who is used to being a part of an endeavor rather than leading it.

She revised her opinion quickly as she watched the exchange with Róise - he was still not the image she had of a ship captain, but she thought there was more to him than there seemed. Miriam tightened her grip on the canteen. She had no idea where this crew was heading, or why. All she cared about was fulfilling her debt to Eoin and clearing the Blight from her body. And… her gaze wandered off east, where she still felt a faint pull. Maybe… whatever that was over there.

All she had to do was find a way to free Iohannes from the cage at the bottom of the keel - and do so at some port of call so they had a way to escape. It was going to be a tight rope to walk. Róise sauntered back over to Miriam.

"We've decided to let you do a provisional trial as a deckhand. Prove to us you're more help than hindrance and we won't throw you overboard when the trial's done." Miriam smiled.

"Very generous of you. I'll do my best. Where should I start?" Róise held up one hand.

"We're harsh taskmasters, but I think you've had enough for one day. I'll show you to your bunk and we can get started tomorrow. Pardon me for asking - but are you Life Nature? I noticed you creating some vines back with that serpent." Miriam's smile cracked slightly. She remembered what Eoin had said about Blight Nature. Not a lot of people choose this one, and not a lot of people care to associate with those who do.

If Blight were as foul as it felt in her heart, and if people treated her accordingly Róise might reconsider throwing her overboard.

"Uh.. yes. I can do… vines and things. Solas… my captor, taught me how to weave my fórsa a bit, but… not really a lot."

"No worries," Róise said.

"It's pretty unusual for someone your age to be this far behind, but tomorrow I'll start teaching you how to start building techniques."

"You're… you have a Life Nature too?"

"Yeah, though not like a dryad's. I'm no academic, but I'd guess dryad Life fórsa techniques tend to be more plant-based. My Nature tends towards the more cultural side of Life." Róise helped Miriam to her feet.

"We'll go over it tomorrow. I'm a terrible teacher, but probably the best one within a hundred miles." Róise cackled at that, sweeping her arm out at the open sea. Róise led Miriam down a set of stairs to the crew quarters of the Líadan.

"I'll give you the full tour in the morning, but you look dead on your feet. Just so happens we have a few berths going empty - three just opened up, in fact, and in their own room. I don't imagine you'll have it to yourself for very long, but enjoy it while you do!" The inside of the ship was even more cramped than Miriam would have guessed - probably to make room for what Róise explained was the "keelwell," a locked room that angled downwards in the middle of the ship.

An ugly iron lock sealed that door shut, but Miriam's eyes lingered on it longer than they should have. The room Róise led her to was literally a closet - in the corner behind the three hammocks hung vertically, one above the other, were multiple brooms and mops.

"Aye, it's not much, but you take what you can get on a ship like ours!" Róise said cheerfully. Miriam blinked, and it was clear Róise was waiting on something.

"Oh," Róise said.

"You can't really get in the hammocks if the door's already closed. So hop in there and I'll button you up." Miriam climbed into the middle hammock, feeling like a child being put to bed. It had been ages since she had tried to squeeze her old bones into a hammock, so it took a few tries. Róise didn't hide her amusement as Miriam fell out completely two times in a row. The third time though, she managed to cocoon herself in the rough rope webbing enough that she wouldn't roll out.

"Oh, and your bag," Róise said, sliding Solas's beaten old knapsack into the room.

"You'll understand that for security reasons we had to go through it." Miriam met Róise's eyes unflinching.

"And?"

"And nothing. I hope you'll forgive that some of the lads decided to take the wine in there. For… you know. A thanks for saving your life, maybe?" Róise shook her head in a boys-will-be-boys way. Miriam shrugged.

"They're welcome to it. If I have to part with some wine to save my skin, I'd say the first drink is on me."

"And the second, and the third," Róise laughed.

"Have a restful evening, Miriam. We'll be working you hard first light." With that Róise closed the door, all light except for slivers from between the slats of the wood of the door snuffing out. For a moment Miriam lay still, swaying gently in the hammock, until Róise's footsteps faded - though they were very quiet to start with. She took a moment to fully let her body relax. For the first time since coming to the Tír, she would be able to sleep on something other than a smelly cot.

Though at least that had a window. Miriam found herself missing the fish. And… maybe missing Eoin?