49

Marcus

Turns out there isn’t enough water for a full body wash, so I rinse blood from my hands and face the best I can. Ash won’t think it’s good enough. But there are more important things, like having a word with Captain Anders. We review the battle, both agreeing that luck really was on our side. What are the odds the ship would shoot itself in the foot at the last possible moment?

“We’re headed straight for the Nulsea Gap?” I ask when we run out of talk of wounded and damage reports.

He nods affirmative and I head below to join the others.

While the red-robe gets away? Pressure builds in the base of my skull.

I clamp down on it as a blinding flash of temper hits me. De’ral isn’t pleased with any of my choices today. “The sooner we secure the next whistle bone, the better. That means going straight to Pandom City.” I’ve said it ten times already. Why do I have to justify myself to my phantom?

The only response is the sensation of searing light burning the backs of my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Belair asks between spoonfuls of Klaavic. His head wound turns out to be minor, appetite undeterred.

Everyone at the table looks up, waiting for my response.

I slide onto the bench seat next to Kaylin. “Nothing’s wrong. We’re sailing straight through the Nulsea Gap and will be in Pandom City shortly after.” I fill my bowl from the center of the table.

“The tide’s incoming,” Kaylin says, agreeing with the timing. “Should be smooth.”

“And then?” Ash asks. She’s brushing out Tyche’s hair and weaving it into a fishtail braid. “Will we get an audience without delay, do you think?”

“Good question.” I raise my brow at Belair, but the redhead is still shoveling food into his mouth.

He scrapes his bowl before answering. “It might take a day for an audience with the Magistrate. He’s always busy, but we’ll need to see him first, before High Savant Havest. Protocols.”

Ash raises her hand, still gripping the hairbrush. “Let’s put some effort into scrubbing up and being presentable.” She looks specifically at me. “Like Belair says, Magistrate Riveren is big on protocols and even bigger on appearances. There’s soap and water topside.”

“Not much, but already done,” I say.

“Oh? Can I suggest you do it again?” She picks a piece of kelp off my cheek.

I distinctly hear De’ral laughing. It’s worse than his growls.

“Good idea.” Belair clears his plate. “Undoubtedly, with the weight of your message, and the notice Brogal has sent ahead, they will hand over the whistle bone…” His voice trails off.

“It’s called Ma’ata, for the deep corals that hug the coast,” Ash supplies.

“Is it carved from them?” Tyche asks.

“From Er’s femur. It represents the fourth step to An’awntia—Awareness of Feeling.” Her eyes level to mine. “You remember this, Marcus?”

“I do.” Mostly.

Belair nods and then beams a smile toward shore. “Can’t wait to land and see my people.”

“Anyone in particular?” Ash asks. Her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “Hahmen, perhaps?” She remembers him now, and I take that as a good sign.

Belair shrugs like it’s nothing, but his face turns red as he laughs.

I smile, too, but my mind drifts back to the collecting of the whistle bones. “Are the documents in order, Ash? For the meeting with Havest?” The Dugong suffered only minor damage, but I want to be certain.

“All in order, Marcus.” She ties off Tyche’s braid and gives her a pat. “So much so, I could pass them to Piper. Let her act as recorder so I can head straight to the library.”

It’s worth considering.

“You don’t need me to translate, and Brogal’s letter says it all.”

“Good idea.” Her research skills are vital now. “We have so many unanswered questions. The multiple aspect alters, anything on the original whistle bones—”

“And how to keep them from being called from us,” Tyche adds, a glint of her old impish determination in her contribution.

Be aware, De’ral warns. His voice in my head is quick and urgent.

I feel eyes at the back of my head and slowly rise, pressing a finger to my lips. “I’ll speak to the captain,” I say lightly, as if nothing is wrong. “Everyone remember, we stay alert in Tangeen, you especially Belair. I know this is your home realm, but—” I turn mid-sentence to look behind me. There’s a shadow under the hatch stairs but it vanishes before I can make out who it is.

“Say no more.” Belair stands and follows my line of sight. He continues talking normally in case the lurker is still within earshot. “I’ll use my connections to our advantage.”

Ash points toward the deck and mouths the words “cabin boy,” when she spots the spy.

“At the least, I’ll get us into the library archives. My status gives me a permanent pass.” Belair nods at Ash and, unhurried, I lead the way topside.

The wind blows my hair in my eyes as I saunter to the port side. Belair follows my lead, leaning his back against the railing, chatting about nothing in particular.

“Is it all out?” the Tangeen asks as he touches his wild red locks.

I knit my brow. “What’s that?”

“The blood and gore. Ash washed my hair for me, but I want to make sure.”

“It’s fine.”

“Smell all right? She used peppermint soap and—”

“Your hair’s fine.”

“Excellent.” He lowers his voice. “And where do you think our eavesdropper got to?”

I shift my eyes to the helm. There the cabin boy stands on tiptoe, speaking to Captain Anders and gesturing. “The sooner we’re off the Dugong, the better.” I scan the distant coastline. “We’ve spies everywhere.”

“No argument about that.” Belair points as if we’re a couple of sightseers. “That’s White Beaches coming up. We should get everyone on deck. The Gap’s a sight not to be missed.”

“Just keep your eyes open,” I say under my breath.

“See if the cabin boy follows us into the city?”

“Precisely. If we out him now, they could replace him with someone we don’t recognize.”

“Clever ploy.” Belair brushes down his yellow robe and buttons the cloak that covers it.

“Not quite how we’d planned to return from Aku, is it,” I say.

“No.” He touches the old scar where half his earlobe is missing. “Not what I had imagined at all.”