Rasim barked a bitter laugh. "Because I was angry when it happened? Master Endat, if things caught on fire when I was angry, I'd have burned Desimi to a crisp when we were ten."
Unexpectedly, Desimi looked up from his work and said, "Nah." Rasim stared at him incredulously, but the bigger boy shrugged. "You always kept your temper when I gave you a hard time."
"No, I just didn't let it get the better of me. You were always going to become a master, no matter how mean you were. I was never going to unless I proved myself some other way, and fighting you wasn't going to do it."
Master Endat's eyebrows rose with interest. "I had no idea you were so disciplined, Rasim. That may be why—"
"Not. One. Rope." Captain Nasira came up from below decks, her jaw so tight muscles bulged and words could barely be forced through her teeth. "There is not one rope left on this ship, not even the one that was holding up the third mate's trousers. Who did this?"
The small gathering of sun and sea witches exchanged glances. Rage contorted Nasira's jaw even further. "If you think you'll hide it—"
"Me." Rasim stepped forward, feeling small and miserable. "Nobody was trying to hide anything, Captain. We're just not sure what happened. But Master Endat thinks it was me."
"You're a sea witch," Nasira spat. "A poor one, but a sea witch. You really expect me to believe this nonsense of studying sunmastery has given you some kind of special talent for a second magic? I might believe it of Kisia, just because she's already a freak."
Kisia stiffened like an angry cat, her brown eyes darkening to black, though she managed to hold her tongue. Rasim wanted to cast Endat an I-told-you-so look, but figured it would make things worse.
"I could even believe it of Desimi. He's got talent to spare. But not you, Journeyman. You're too pathetic. Don't imagine all of us believe that story about the sea serpent, either."
Desimi caught his breath, then stayed silent too, clearly wanting to protest that he hadn't even been studying sunmastery, only watching, but also obviously flattered that Nasira imagined him to have enough power to master two magics. "But you're the clever one," Nasira snarled to Rasim. "So clever us out of this, Journeyman. Maybe a guild's worth of Skymasters could bring up wind enough to shove a sailless ship to land, but we've only three, and a trio of Stonemasters to anchor us down. As for you." She thrust a finger at Endat and his journeymen. "You'll be confined to quarters until we make land, and the first landfall I make I'm putting you off-ship. I'd drown you all if I could."
Someone said, "You can't do that," and to Rasim's horror he realized it was himself.
Nasira's hot rage went cold so fast Rasim thought he could feel a chill waft off her. She pulled herself up tall and looked down at him with terrifyingly little expression. Dizziness ran through Rasim and he made fists, his blunt fingernails digging into his palms. "Excuse me, Journeyman," Nasira said in a low, deadly voice. "What did you say?"
Rasim whispered, "I said you can't do that. We're on a diplomatic mission from the king, and Endat is his chosen envoy. You can't just put him off the ship. I think it would be treason."
"And you should know about treason." Nasira's voice remained soft and dangerous. "You're the one who went North and brought back a ship captained by the man who tried to kill King Taishm. The whole guild was disbanded and marked as traitors for that journey north."
Rasim's jaw fell open. "Guildmaster Isidri sent the fleet north and you know it. All the captains agreed with it, even you, Captain Nasira. You could have refused to sail to the Northlands if you'd thought it was a mistake. You could have—"
"Put him in the brig," Nasira said. "Him and any of those who support him."
Kisia instantly stepped forward. Rasim stomped on her foot, making her swallow a yelp and hop back again. He shook his head once, hard and fast. There was no point in more than one of them being thrown in the brig. Nasira was so angry that she was already remembering things the way she wanted instead of what had really happened. Showing support for Rasim would only make it worse. And Nasira was right about something: it had been the ships lent to him by the Northern royal family which had carried the traitorous Northern captain to Ilyara's shores. It had nothing to do with the current situation, but Nasira had it on her line and wasn't going to let go.
Hassin, stoic-faced and silent, put a hand on Rasim's shoulder. It seemed the whole crew had gathered to watch Nasira take Rasim down, and now as first mate it was Hassin's duty to do as she ordered. He put his other hand on Endat's shoulder, even more lightly. The Sunmaster nodded to his journeymen, and both the girls fell into step with the little processional being brought below. Daka's gaze was still high and reverent, looking at where the ropes had burned with so little other damage, but Pynda's rage was close to Nasira's in magnitude. If she didn't calm herself, they might be in far worse trouble than just having lost the ropes.
Endat touched Pynda's shoulder, as if reminding her to let her anger go. Her jaw rolled, and though none of the rage left her, the sense of danger somehow did. Endat nodded again, and Hassin brought them all below. The Sunmasters were allowed to go freely into their quarters, but Hassin escorted Rasim all the way to the tiny, cramped brig built into the Waifia's prow.
Rasim had cleaned and tarred the little room many times, but he couldn't remember anyone actually being sent there. Asindo ran a smoother ship than that, no power struggles and no one foolish enough to confront the captain so openly. Of course, no one had ever incinerated all the Waifia's ropes when Asindo had been captain, either.
"I'm sorry, lad," Hassin said unhappily as he opened the brig door.
Rasim shook his head. "Just don't let Kisia do anything stupid, all right? Captain Nasira's..." He trailed off, unable to even put it into words, and Hassin smiled faintly.
"Yes. She is. She's a good captain, Rasim. Never doubt that. You wouldn't know it, but she lost her son and husband to the Great Fire, so she hates fire with everything that she is. She came back to the guild, after, because she had nowhere else to go and nothing else left. Then she lost her ship and a dozen crew when the serpent attacked, and now the guilds themselves are changing. It's hard for her."
"You don't need to explain." Rasim took a deep breath before stepping into the brig, as if the free air outside its walls was somehow different from the air within. "This fire is a disaster, and if it really is my fault, then the captain is right to put me here. I didn't know," he added. "About her family. I didn't know. I'm sorry."
"So were we all." Hassin closed the door gently, as if that made Rasim any less a prisoner, and left him alone in the brig.
It was large enough to stand in because he was short, but its floor sloped up and the keel split the room in half. A small bed took up half the remaining space. Rasim sat on it and looked at the tiny space. There were no portholes, not this far forward, and the only light came from the window in the door. Even in full daylight, the brig was hardly more than shadows. At night it would be completely dark.
Within about ten minutes, Rasim thought he would probably go mad with boredom long before sunset left him in the dark. Then it struck him that Nasira had given him a task, whether she'd meant to or not: she'd told him to be clever and find a solution to their becalming. Right now the Waifia rocked very gently, barely disturbing the water it lay in. Poor Milu might appreciate that, though quiet waters hadn't yet settled his stomach. Rasim lay back on the bed, studying the ceiling in the dimness. Braiding clothes might make rope strong enough to tie the masts in place, but even if every pair of trousers and every tunic on the ship was used, it wouldn't be enough. The Skymasters might be able to call up enough wind to shove the Waifia along for a while, but it would exhaust them. There had to be another answer.
Whatever it was, it escaped him for the moment. The quiet still air and the small close room worked together, warming Rasim until he drifted into uneasy sleep. Memories flashed through his dreams, the cold terror of diving with the sea serpent mixed with playing games of sailing ships in the guildhall's water barrels. Sticks were ships, powered by sea-witchery moving the water below them, and then serpents rose up and crushed the stick-ships in their coils, bringing sailors to their doom. Huge paintings appeared in the air, like the murals in the Northern palace that showed great heroes fighting terrible monsters. Rasim's own face was among them, brown in a sea of pale-skinned warriors. The sea serpent twisted him in its coils, then released him into the cold grey heart of Northern mountains, where another monster lurked.
Rasim flinched awake, sitting up so fast he cracked his head against the low brig ceiling. Spots danced behind his eyes like sunlight on the water. He sank down again, holding his head and wincing. The Northlands had already sent monsters—assassins, at least—to Ilyara. He didn't want to imagine there was another monster of any kind waiting for them, assuming they were ever able to reach the North.
"Oh." Rasim sat up again, more carefully this time, and stared at the door as if thinking hard enough about him would summon Hassin.
It didn't. Rasim drifted into sleep at least twice more before the first mate finally came to the brig carrying a leather water flask and a bowl of cold fish stew. "Captain didn't say not to feed you," he said dryly as he opened the door. "Let's just keep this between you and me."
Rasim hopped off the bed and seized the food and drink, putting them onto the bed. "I figured it out, Hassin. I know what to do. Oh! How is Sesin?"
"She's all right. Won't be doing much work for a few weeks, but the healer's bound her ribs and strengthened the bones somewhat. I'll tell her you asked. You figured what out?" Hassin was a dark shadow against the dim light that spilled through from the lower decks, but Rasim could see the curiosity in his eyes.
"That we don't have to move the ship!"
Hassin arched an eyebrow and Rasim flapped his hands impatiently. "We just have to move the water around it. Not all of it, just enough of it. Like playing ships in water barrels." He brushed his fingers in a long line, mimicking the movement they'd used when they played that game. "We make a corridor of moving water around the Waifia, deep enough that the current can't snatch it back, but not much wider than the ship. It'll work, Hassin."
The first mate pursed his lips. "A current of our own under the ship. That might work. It'll be difficult with this much displacement and the ocean's pull to fight against, but it might just work."
Triumph splashed through Rasim and was instantly quashed. "Maybe you shouldn't tell the captain it was my idea."
Even in the dim light, Hassin's surprise was obvious. "It might turn the tide in your favor."
"Or it might make her even angrier. She told me to figure it out. I don't think she really meant it. Besides, Isidri just told us it doesn't matter who gets the credit, right? What matters is that we make it to land."
A long silence met that argument, before Hassin sighed. "You're a far-sighted lad, Rasim. All right. I'll suggest it and let her think it was my idea, but if we get home safe, I'll be telling Guildmaster Asindo the truth."
"Fair enough." Rasim settled back onto his hard bunk and picked up the water flask gratefully. "Thanks for this, Hassin."
"You're welcome. And if you feel the ship surge in a few minutes, know that I'm thanking you as well."
That was higher praise than anything Rasim could ask for from Nasira. He beamed and ducked his head, not even minding when he was again left alone in the dark. Several minutes later the ship did surge. Rasim bit back a cheer, afraid Nasira would hear it and deduce the truth. Hours passed, long enough for night to fall, and Hassin returned with more food and a wink of approval. Happy despite the circumstances, Rasim ate and fell asleep, barely even hearing the whistle blasts that marked shift changes.
From the light pouring into the hold and the relative brightness of the brig, it had to be twelfth bell, the hottest and brightest time of day, when he had his next visitor. To his surprise, it was Nasira, who flung the door open with an angry smile of satisfaction creasing her features.
"We're making landfall," the captain announced. "I'm putting you off the ship."