16th of Thira, Continued

I was helping Marin clean up the washroom when the swinging door to the galley opened and one of the deck stewards leaned in. "There's two gentlemen on deck ta see ya, sir."

Braeton glanced up from the copy of the Dailies Marin had brought with her from the mainland. "Send them in, thank you. And tell Captain Arramy to come back up, please."

The steward nodded, then left, holding the galley door open for two men. One was of average height and build, with average features and mid-brown hair. The other was thick and bulky, with a bald head. Both of them gave Marin a respectful nod as they came all the way into the washroom and closed the door.

"Ah. The much-fabled Henmyrre and Longwater," Braeton said, putting down his paper and getting to his feet. He smiled. "Welcome. Now. I'll just get straight down to business. I assume it's been made clear what your duties will be?"

Henmyrre glanced at Longwater, then nodded. "Aye. Clear enough."

"Good," Braeton said, then reached into his jacket and brought out two envelopes, handing one to each of them. "These are new papers. You're listed on the manifest as my bodyguards, but your real objective is to keep an eye on Captain Arramy at all times once we're ashore. Any questions?"

The men shook their heads. 

Footsteps sounded out in the dining room, then, and a moment later Arramy pushed the galley door open.

I tried to ignore the swift kick in my heartbeat and focused on sweeping up stray bits of rubber peelings and costuming wax as he came to a halt in the doorway.

"Ah," Braeton said, all smiling and smooth. "Captain, meet Henmyrre and Longwater. I've brought them in as extra bodyguards. I was hoping you would show them where everything is."

Arramy didn't respond. 

I couldn't help it. I hazarded a glance over my shoulder.

He was looking at me, his expression cold. Then he nodded, his gaze shifting to Braeton. "Whatever you want, your Lordship," he muttered, his voice flat. Then he turned on his heel and walked out.

Longwater and Henmyrre exchanged a glance, then trailed after Arramy.

Marin was crouched next to her knapsack, loading the last of her trays of pigments into it. "Well, you two seem to get on very well together," she said, a wry grin curling her lips. She closed the knapsack and buckled the top shut, then pushed herself to her feet. "We need to talk." She aimed a meaningful look at the swinging door. "Somewhere a little less... open."

~~~

Marin waited until Braeton had closed and locked his stateroom door, then she got right to it. "Songbird says there's nothing new from the Communication Bureau about Reixham, Delmyrre, or any of the other names you gave her. She'll keep her ear to the ground as always... And Orrelian said to tell you the Harbormaster has been searching all incoming vessels for nearly a week."

"I was afraid of that," Braeton muttered, pocketing his key as he scooted around me and headed for the small bar cabinet, where he poured himself a shot of rum and got a jar of beer from the insulabox. The beer was for Marin.

He glanced at me, his hand hovering over the rum bottle again, but I just shook my head and sat down at his breakfast table. I didn't feel like adding alcohol to the weird, hollow ache in my middle. 

Marin nodded her thanks and took her beer, then sank into the chair across from mine and stretched out her long legs. "Orrelian is getting worried. There is talk on the street about new caerhundar activity, more than we've ever had. Twelve more reports of missing people already this month from Aritagne, another twenty from Vreis, more from farther north... They're moving them fast. None of our scouting missions turned up anything but a few places they might have been held. They were long gone before we got there."

She took a swig of her beer, then went on. "Orrelian thinks they're targeting the skilled trades, now, specifically. All of the men taken were mine workers. The girls were seamstresses and dairy hands..." her eyes darkened and her brows lowered. "Except for the children."

I stared at her. "Children," I whispered. "Is that new?"

"No... but it's been a while," she said quietly, not looking at me.

Braeton leaned his rump against the drink cabinet and lifted his rum. "Just one more reason to bring them down."

"Fienn emai" Marin said in Ronyran, raising her beer. "Let it be so." Then she took a drink before looking at Braeton, eyes sober. "What is this other job you need me to do?"

"Mmm," Braeton mumbled, then swallowed, put his rum down, reached into his vest pocket, and leaned over to place a money bag on the table. "We need to keep Captain Arramy as far away from any Coventry contact as possible, for as long as possible. So. I need you to bribe one of the City Guards into finding nothing in the forward cargo hold tomorrow." He indicated the bag with a nod of his head. "That's ten thousand. Seven to start the deal, and a little extra for bargaining."

Marin raised an eyebrow, then reached out and picked the money up, tucking it casually into the front of her jacket. Then she finished her beer and got to her feet, giving me a swift smile before turning to face Braeton. "The harbor gates close in an hour. I have to beat curfew." 

Braeton pushed himself off the drink counter and caught her in a gruff hug.

She clapped his shoulder, then pulled away and held him at arm's length. "See you on the other side."  

~~~

I ran my brush through my new hair. Eventually I would get used to it, but it was still strange. As was the fact that there was another person's face lying on my dressing table, pale and jiggly like a washed-up jellyfish. I knew how valuable it was, but it still sent a shudder down my spine. It was at once fascinating, disturbing, and a relief. On one hand, I would be able to walk right out in front of the Coventry, but on the other hand, I would be walking right out in front of the Coventry.  

With a drawn-out sigh, I put my brush down. Then I brought my hands up to the back of my neck and undid the clasp of my necklace, letting the compass rose catch the lantern light for a moment before placing it gently in the velvet lined box Ina had given me for it.

It was time to start packing, and I couldn't take anything that could link Pretty Pendar to my real identity.

One more thing to leave behind. I got up and set to work, but no matter how busy I made myself, I couldn't quite shake the thought that there wasn't much of me left to lose.

............................................................

Fienn emai (Fee-ehn EH-my): Ronyran toast that literally means 'the good, or perfect thing,' but situationally means 'so it should be.'