Chương 18: Chapter 17

Shaya mapped out the feel of her formula again and made another note in her notebook with her stubby pen and black ink. Rapid Armour. Cast time: ten seconds. She smiled as she flipped back to the previous day's notes: casting time down from twelve seconds. Progress! Flipping back even further, she found the last time she had practiced her full armour of light spell: thirty seconds. Ten seconds is still far from ideal, but I can at least probably get that off in the middle of combat or with little notice.

Then I just have to absorb the aether loss until the worst of the situation is over. Shaya dismissed the spell and started over, again and again, focusing on speed more than clean executions. As the afternoon passed by, her confidence continued to grow—and it had nothing to do with the amount of Amber she was burning through. A growing pressure behind her eyes told her it was time to quit, before she started to burn out her spirit.

"Huh," she said aloud to the gryphlet, who had napped next to her for the past hours, "I haven't recorded how long I can practice for, but it feels like the sessions are lasting longer and longer." She made another note in her book: Ni—"Titan spit, I'm out of ink." She scritched Quill's rump as they slept, earning her a pleased wark as their feline tail rose and the dark poof of fur at the end wiggled in delight.

"Alright, friend, let's get you outside for a walk." Their head rose in excitement, the desire to nap dispelled in an instant.

"Wark!" The late afternoon sun greeted them as they emerged on the deck, its light filtered through darker, denser clouds than she had seen earlier that day. She frowned up at the sky and then at the first mate, who tapped the side of his nose when he saw her.

"I still call Titan spit that you called this based on a bum leg." He laughed in response and returned to his duties. The crowd had changed up above, with a shift change leading to new crew mates at each station and the passengers rotating through as some desired privacy while others wanted fresh air. The two duellists remained, however, and Shaya spotted her neighbours standing off to the side of the deck, watching the fencing match as it took place.

The gaze of one of them slid off the duellists and scanned the deck, pausing on tough-looking people or those in rich attire. That's not the look of an idle, bored merchant at all. The man's gaze swept around the deck and locked onto Shaya, their eyes meeting. She only just realized how nondescript he and his partner appeared: dark hair and brown eyes common for Kelahk, and nothing of note on their faces. The merchant robes were bulky enough to cover their builds as well. Spit, don't let him think you're onto him.

Shaya bowed her head in awkward acknowledgement and made another apologetic gesture. The man's eyes narrowed as he studied her, but were drawn to Quill when the gryphlet spread their wings and gave a triumphant squawk. She watched him for another instance, and realized that his eyes did not shine in annoyance or agitation—she saw something else there. Greed, maybe even malice.

Shaya flicked her eyes away from the man watching her and rubbed the back of her head in feigned embarrassment as Quill's cry drew everyone's attention to her. Most of the sailors looked excited to see them, but the other passengers were an even split between annoyance and excitement. She walked towards a less populated part of the ship, which happened to be the poop deck above the aft castle. Fitting, she thought to herself with a smirk.

She spotted the captain chatting with the helmswoman and gave them a wave as she walked towards them.

"Captain, can I have a word with you in relative private?"

"O' course," Kredig said, clapping the helmswoman on the back hard enough she had to catch herself on the wheel. The two of them walked to the very aft of the ship, where a nod from the captain dismissed the sailor standing watch there. He leaned against the railing and Shaya feared it would snap under his weight, but it held and the big man smirked at her concern.

"Don't you worry about Surly here, she's my pride and joy." He took in a deep breath of the fresh sea air.

"So, what I can do for ya, oh slayer o' beasts?" This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Out of curiosity, did you vet your passengers much?" she asked. He was taken aback by her blunt question, his head cocking at her when he recovered.

"Out o' curiosity—what piqued yer curiosity?"

"I don't want to name anyone, but I just got some strange vibes from some of the passengers," she explained.

"It might be nothing, but I got the sense they were casing the ship and its occupants. I dunno, like they might be looking to rob some of the richer passengers or…well, I don't like how they look at the gryphlet either." Kredig's eyes narrowed, the coal-like embers flaring.

"That's a pretty serious accusation."

"Just an observation at the moment. That's why I wanted to raise it with you in private."

"And jus' how would you know what a person looks like when casin' a place?" Shaya broke eye contact and leaned on the railing, looking out over the Jade Sea. The sky behind them was still a clear blue, with all of the dark clouds racing ahead of them. She mulled over her options, watching the water ripple in the ship's wake. Do I trust him enough to share my past? Why would he trust me if I didn't offer anything, though?

"Before I Awakened, my brother and I were orphans in Imperial City," she explained, "forced to live in The Blight and survive somehow." She turned back to him, his intense gaze attentive, waiting for her to continue speaking. With a sigh, she continued, "I know what it looks like, because I was a thief in a former life. I could be wrong, but my gut tells me I'm not."

"Hmm," he rumbled, "how would you even rob someone onna boat? It's not like there's any place to go." Shaya gave it a moment's thought before responding, "A few options come to mind. The first is you steal something relatively innocuous, or that could go unnoticed. A bit of jewellery, some coin, or something from sealed cargo. The second is to shift the blame to someone else—fan noted enmities between passengers, plant some evidence on a scapegoat, or something darker.

The third would be not robbing them on the boat, they could be marking folks or their cargo for when the boat reaches its destination." The sparks in his eyes intensified as she spoke, and his frown was a deep crag when she finished. The silence stretched between them until Shaya thought she should go, but he spoke just as she was about move away.

"It's prolly not the cargo," he confided, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"Imperial City has a food shortage, so Surly's laden down with grain and salted meats to help feed its masses. Now, who do you suspect?"

"You're that quick to trust me?"

"Ye've been a boon to the crew, ye walk around with an Astorian Saint as yer esper, and, assumin' ye're not exaggeratin' your stories too much, you sound like you put yourself at risk for the well-being of others more than's healthy for you." He gave her a tight smile, but it didn't touch his eyes.

"So I'm inclined to trust ye a bit, at least." I do most of that for the money and experience, but he doesn't need to know that. But thank you, Saint Phaedra, she thought to herself. Hopefully this keeps my reputation niiice and clean in case I do ever have to play the scoundrel someday. She nodded to Kredig.

"Thank you, I'm glad I've made a positive impression. As for who, it's the two robed men who boarded around the same time I did." Kredig couldn't restrain the deep rumble of agitation that left his throat, and his eyes flicked to where the two suspects were still standing on the lower deck. His eyes smouldered and teeth ground together loud enough to make even Krebo's restrained anger seem like child's play. Gods, is he going to have them thrown overboard right now? Wait.

Shaya looked at the captain, at how his jaw muscles bulged and how the wooden railing creaked as his giant hands gripped it. The all-too-familiar attempt at restraint written across his features. Oh Throne above, his demonic curse is putting him into a blood rage. Kredig's nostrils flared with rage and fire swam in his infernal eyes as he looked towards the two men Shaya had accused of ill intentions. Shaya had experienced a similar sensation, but never from such an indirect trigger.

Wounds would set her blood boiling, and perhaps even direct insults, but this? She counted herself lucky that she had such weak blood, if this was what a true nephilim descended from Tarrak was like.

"Captain," she said, trying to draw his attention. It didn't work. He was glaring directly at the merchants, who would notice the moment one of them scanned this direction—raised aft castle or not. I can't let him tip them off, or rush over and tear them limb from limb.

"Kredig." She tried not to draw the attention of any nearby crew or passengers; it wouldn't do for anyone to see him like this.

"Kredig!" Still nothing. Gods, what do I do? Slap him? No, that would draw too much attention to us anyway…

"Figures it's the ones that can offer good money for privacy," he finally growled, shaking his head to clear it.

"Thank you for bringing your suspicions to me, but your role in this ends now. It's my job to make sure the passengers are safe, me an' the crew'll deal with this—if it amounts to anything."

"Well, if you insist, I'll stay out of it," Shaya lied. She had no intention of intervening if she didn't have to, but if the two merchants were a threat to her or Quill she'd act.