Keesha might have thrown a stone into a still pond, the way surprise rippled out from where she and Rasim stood. More than one captain brayed laughter, but Guildmaster Isidri leaned forward, elbows on her knees and fingers steepled with interest. Humor creased the sun-deepened lines on Asindo's face, but he spoke politely enough. "Are you, now. What do you know of life aboard a ship, baker's daughter?"
"Nothing," she said defiantly, "but I bet you don't know much about making hard tack or fish stew. Put me in the galley if you want to, or teach me to sail, but I'll be on board the Wafiya when she sails, Captain."
"She should be." Rasim returned to Keesha's side. His heart was beating too hard again, quick with the fear that supporting Keesha might lose himself a place on the ship. He wished he could tell himself it didn't matter, but it did. It mattered a lot. But taking the risk was right, just as asking Desimi, who loathed him, to use magic Rasim himself couldn't command, had also been right.
For an instant, he had a rueful glimmer of understanding: doing the right thing instead of the smart thing might make being a grown-up much harder. But he wasn't grown-up yet, and that was a problem for later. For now, he said, "She's the one who saw how unnatural the fire was, Captain. She only told me, so I could tell someone who'd listen. If I'm going to be on board because I'm clever, not because I'm a great witch, then Keesha deserves to be there at least as much as I do. She made me look clever."
Far too many of the nearby guildmasters and captains were grinning openly by the time he'd finished defending Keesha. He felt color scald his face all the way to his hairline, and muttered, "Well, she did," to his feet.
Asindo's deep voice sounded like he was fighting back laughter, but he addressed Keesha politely a second time. "You're no orphan, Keesha al Balian. You have a trader's name, not a sea witch's, and you've parents to worry about you."
Keesha folded her arms and thrust her jaw out, sure signs she was nervous. "I have three brothers and a sister, too, Captain. We can't all inherit the bakery. Some of us will marry into other trades, but a guild is as fine a life as any trader's. I'll trade my name for a sea witch's, if that's what it takes. I'll be Kisia al Ilialio come dawn, and sail on the Siliarian Sea."
The laughter had stopped, and the new name Keesha had given herself rang through the hall with pride and defiance. Smiles were still everywhere, but they were touched with admiration, and after long seconds of silence, Guildmaster Isidri's slow applause cracked the air. Keesha and Rasim both jumped, then straightened themselves as Isidri stood and gave Keesha in particular an approving nod.
"All right then, girl. Kisia al Ilialio you are, if your parents will release you to the guild. If you mean to be shipboard by the third bell, we'd better hurry to ask them."
Keesha's—Kisia's—smile went from incredulous to thrilled inside a breath. She dropped the satchel of bread to fling herself on Rasim and hug him until he grunted, then whispered, "Don't let them sail without me!" in his ear.
Rasim nodded, setting her back on her feet. Kisia gave him a stunning smile before grabbing Guildmaster Isidri's hand as the old woman joined them. "Come on," she said to the Guildmaster, "come on, I'll show you where the bakery is!"
"I know where it is, girl. Asindo wasn't the only one who got treats from your grandparents." The amused Guildmaster let herself be hauled out of the guildhall. Within seconds the captains were in an uproar again.
Rasim stood among them, battered by their voices and by their brusque passage past him, grinning like a fool. He'd never heard of anyone challenging for a place in the guilds the way Kisia had just done. Kisia, so close to the Keesha she'd been, but with the "si" in the name that marked any sea witch as belonging to the guild. The letters were for the goddess of the sea, Siliaria, and every orphan brought into the guild was given a name to honor her. He was Rasim al Ilialio, son of the sea and river, and soon Kisia would be their daughter.
And they would sail together. He, Rasim al Ilialio, who was hardly a sea witch at all, would sail on the Wafiya with Captain Asindo and Hassin. And with Desimi too, Rasim thought sourly, but joy buoyed the complaint away. That trouble would be worth it. Any trouble would be worth it.
Rasim's smile disappeared. It was true enough: any trouble would be worth it, but it was easy to forget in his excitement that they sailed at dawn because real trouble, dangerous trouble, brewed in the city. This wouldn't be a training run, a first time out for the new crew to work together on a merchant run or trade route. They would slip away on the early tide, before sunrise, so they could gather elsewhere, hidden from an unknown enemy, and plan their counter-attack.
Asindo appeared in front of Rasim, stepping out of the crowd of captains and guildmasters sweeping by. He looked as serious as Rasim felt, and he put a hand on Rasim's shoulder. "Settling in, is it?"
"Yes, sir. It's not...it's not all wonderful, is it, sir?"
Asindo's expression became even more solemn. "No, lad, it's not." Then a smile broke through, becoming a grin. "But by the goddess, a lot of it is. It's your first sail as crew, boy. Enjoy it. Now up to your berth and gather your things. It's not long until the third bell."
Excitement bloomed in Rasim's chest again. He beamed at the stout captain, then ran for the berths. Ran for the apprentice's hall for the last time: he was a journeyman now, and when they came back from this journey, he would sleep in another hall.
It took almost no time to pack his belongings: two spare shirts, a second pair of trousers, shoes that would see no use on shipboard. Kerchiefs to keep his hair out of his face as it grew longer, a stone carving of the goddess Siliaria as was given to all of the Seamasters' children, and a few well-worn storybooks that he had learned to read from. Apprentices needed little and owned less, but it meant they could take their lives with them when they went to sea.
He left the apprentice hall berths with more decorum, trying to look and feel adult, like a journeyman should, rather than running around with the excitement of a childish apprentice. That lasted until he got to the gates and the same guard who had let him in an hour earlier offered a wink and a nod along with a solemn, "Strong winds and safe sailing, Journeyman Rasim."
A grin split Rasim's face, so wide it felt like it reached down inside him and lifted him off the ground. Unable to contain himself, he broke into a run again, tearing headlong down to the docks.
They had never been so busy in the small hours of the morning as they were now. Rasim slowed, astonished at the bustle of traffic. It seemed everyone from the guild was there, loading ships, preparing them to sail, finding room for newly promoted journeymen and for young masters now elevated to mates and boatswains.
It was all done in surprising silence. Normally the docks were a riot of sound and color, but under the moonlight and with the need for discretion, the noise level was barely above a murmur. Everything was blue and black, shadows deep and wavering under the two moons, but sure-footed sea witches and sailors leaped from ship to bridge to shore as if it was full daylight without a shadow to be seen.
No one was bleary with sleep, though as he came closer Rasim heard the undercurrent of confusion in the shoreside gossip. Only the captains and guildmasters knew why they were preparing to sail in the middle of the night, and a day earlier than they might have expected to.
Only the captains, guildmasters, and Rasim. His stomach dropped, and his hands went cold around the bundle of belongings he carried. No doubt the others would come to know soon enough, but it was a heavy burden for a journeyman to carry on his own.
Not quite on his own, not if Keesha's parents let her join the guild. Rasim thought they would, mostly because he couldn't imagine anyone defying Guildmaster Isidri. And if they agreed, the Guildmaster would make certain Keesha—Kisia—got to the docks before the Wafiya sailed. Boosted by the thought, Rasim tossed his bundle over the Wafiya's rail and ran light-footed across the bridge.
Desimi climbed up from below just as Rasim jumped to the ship from the bridge. The other boy looked bigger in the moons' light, the blue-yellow shadows spilled from the two full orbs aging him. He would have a mean look about him when he was grown unless he made an effort to scowl less than he was doing right now. Rasim skidded back a step, unwilling to have another confrontation. His ribs, which hadn't bothered him in all the excitement, suddenly twinged a reminder that they'd been kicked, hard, only that morning. Desimi stared at him, anger as palpable as magic in the air, but then he shouldered past Rasim, barely acknowledging his presence.
Rasim's breath left him in a rush. Maybe being crewmates instead of just apprentices together would be enough to keep Desimi's temper in line. It was enough for tonight, at any rate, so Rasim grabbed his belongings and hurried into the hold to find a berth.
The only hammocks left empty were the ones below and beside Desimi's, of course. Rasim knew it was Desimi's from the other boy's goddess symbol, stuck neatly into a cubby some other journeyman had carved out just for that purpose. They were the worst of the berths, too, nearest the prow where the ship's rise and fall would be felt the most strongly. But that was the way of it for new crew members: as they rose in rank they would have the chance at better berths. That this one was on a ship at all was enough for Rasim. He threw his bag into the hammock, then darted back to the deck.
Apprentices served on ships as much as in the shipyards, learning all the most basic duties of a sea witch and sailor. Rasim fell to what he could do: shifting supplies into the hold, scampering up the mast to tie off dangling ropes, snatching up a bucket of pitch to finish sealing inner boards. The moons slipped across the sky arm in arm, pulling the tide higher and the night later. The third bell rang, and for the first time since he'd reached the ship, Rasim's stomach clenched with worry. Keesha wasn't there yet, and the Wafiya would cast off at the next bell. Maybe her parents had said no after all. Heart tight, he bent to his work, trying not to think. Time passed quickly, too quickly for a boy trying not to worry about whether his friend had come. The fourth bell rang just as the tide changed, and a familiar shout rang out: "Journeymen!"
There were a dozen on board, but the call was meant for the newest two. It was their duty and honor to be among those who took in the ropes that bound ship to shore and broke them from their old lives forever. Rasim ran for the rail.
And then Keesha—Kisia, given to the sea and river, then Kisia al Ilialio was there behind him, her long hair cropped apprentice-short and her grin as wide and fierce as the sea itself. Rasim shouted from the bottom of his heart, a huge sound of delight, and grabbed Kisia around the middle to spin her around until they both staggered when he put her down. And there was Guildmaster Isidri on the shore, her white braid a blaze over her shoulder. She nodded to both of them, and to Desimi, too, as he stepped up to the next rope over and stared between Rasim, Kisia and the Guildmaster.
"Cast off, mates!" Asindo's command rolled across the ship as a soft echo of what other captains were shouting. Rasim gave his rope a practiced flick, loosening it from the broad post on shore. Beside him, Desimi did the same, while at Rasim's elbow Kisia watched intently, repeating the motion so she might learn it. Within seconds, the ropes were coiled and set aside within the ship. Asindo nodded approvingly, then beckoned to the three newest members of his crew. Heart in his throat, a smile cracking his face, Rasim sprang up the short set of stairs that led to the captain's wheel.
Asindo spun the wheel as wind sprang up, gift from the handful of sky witches on board, and the Wafiya turned as sharply as any ship its size could. Twinned moonlight splashed a pathway across the water. The captain, with a smile, touched Rasim's shoulder and nodded to the wheel.
Rasim whispered, "C'mon," to Kisia and Desimi. They both startled, Kisia eagerly and Desimi suspiciously, but neither wasted more time than that in laying their hands on the wheel at the same time Rasim did. It meant nothing: the ship was set on its course already.
And it meant everything, a promise of sailing, no matter what else might happen, into a new life.