“Really, Captain, did you really need to bring him back here?” Kiara asked Captain Alinyaln. He deposited the now unconscious Yaskin into the cell built into the hold of the ship, closing and locking the cell door. He wiped his hands on his maroon coat as if to get something slimy off them. With a swift movement he grabbed the key from the lock and stuffed it into one of his coat pockets.

  “Yes, Kiara, I really really did.” Alinyaln said, dropping into a nearby chair. Ninia felt exhausted from carrying the man as well, her arms feeling almost numb. The trek back to the Mercy of Dradinoor had been draining for the both of them, though Ninia suspected some of the Captain’s fatigue wasn’t entirely physical.

  “We don’t need another pet.” Kiara said with a huff, crossing her arms.

  “Come now, you can’t tell me you still see Drags as a ‘pet,’ he’s a person as much as you are.” Alinyaln said with a stern look at the woman.

  “I’m not talking about that—that thing.” Kiara said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m talking about the drunk you keep around even though he doesn’t contribute, I’m talking about the girl,” she thumbed over toward Ninia, “Who still needs her hand held at all times,”

  “Hey!” Ninia interjected, but Kiara continued;

  “I’m talking about the cursed Crafter that hasn’t left her cabin for anything other than food in weeks. We don’t need another mouth aboard this ship who can’t contribute. Sir.” She added snottily to the end of her diatribe.

  Alinyaln didn’t say anything for a moment, studying his second in command. “Where is this coming from, Kiara?” He asked her, voice thoughtful.

  “It’s from five years of this madness.” Kiara snapped, waving her hands around her head to gesture at the entire ship. “It’s from five years of hardly making enough money to support ourselves, five years of not having enough fuel to get farther than a few miles here or there, five years of striving toward nothing but your grudge.”

  Ninia stared at Kiara, dumbfounded. She expected the Captain to stand up and shout at her, arguing with the woman. Instead, he nodded to her. “I see.”

  “That’s it?” Kiara said, glaring at the Captain.

  Captain Alinyaln stood up, stepping toward Kiara, putting into stark contrast their different heights. “I see. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but we are making progress. We have two leads now, more than we’ve had in a long time, maybe even ever. I have a duty to see this through. I know that’s hard for you to accept since it’s not your burden, but it is mine.”

  Kiara looked away from the Captain. “I know you have your vow to your old crew, Captain. You’re a good man, but that alone doesn’t keep a ship afloat. I deal with the records and wages for the crew, something you’ve neglected for a long time.” She put her hand on Alinyaln’s arm in a far more tender way than Ninia would have expected from the harsh woman. “Maybe you need to let Tyrnarm go and focus on the now.” She squeezed his arm.

  Alinyaln pulled away from her, turning to rest his arms on the cell bars. He stared at Yaskin, but Ninia could see his eyes. They were unfocused, unseeing. Then his gaze sharpened and he turned around. “You’re right, Kiara.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t let go of my task. Not until I see it through. But we can make some changes. Taking more foodstuffs from ships, maybe even giving a Yishk or two to someone who needs them.”

  “A solid plan, Captain.” Kiara said, nodding in approval. She turned and made her way to the upper decks of the Mercy of Dradinoor.

  “I don’t deserve her as a First Mate.” Alinyaln mused to himself.

  Ninia stepped over to the cell, watching Yaskin. He was slumped over in a pile, like how Alinyaln left him. His breathing was ragged from the screams, but he seemed none the worse for wear. “What can I do, Captain?”

  “What do you mean, lass?” Alinyaln said, looking at her with his sad eyes.

  “Kiara used me as an example of being useless. What can I do to change that?”

  Alinyaln smiled. “Don’t take anything she says too seriously, lass. You do enough, you can do your chores as well as the rest of ‘em, and you weren’t too bad in that fight earlier.”

  Ninia felt a blush at the recognition. “Thank you, Captain. But I want to do more.”

  He eyed her then nodded. “I’ll keep that in consideration, Ninia. Go on, now.”

  *

  Ninia gripped the rope in both hands, her sweaty fingers slipping on the rough surface. It was dangling from the railing on the Gull’s Nest, swaying with the ship as it lilted back and forth gently with the rocking waves.

  With a heave she pulled herself up, hand over hand, supporting herself with her feet as she rose ever higher.

  Arms burning, she made it to the top and struggled to pull herself up. Black boots stepped up to her and a pale hand was held out for her to grab. Ninia grabbed it and felt herself be pulled up by the surprisingly strong Jendul.

  Ninia panted, doubled over as she tried to catch her breath. She was used to working hard, but pulling herself up such a tall rope was another battle. “How—how do you—you do this every—day?” Ninia asked the girl, struggling to catch her breath.

  Jendul laughed, her black hair tied in a tail today. “It helps to do it often.” She replied, her voice slightly clipped with a faint accent that Ninia couldn’t quite determine.

  Straightening up, Ninia took a deep breath and looked around at the inside of the nest. She had never actually been inside of the Gull’s Nest of a ship before, and this one was far more spacious than she had anticipated. A small cot lay folded up, pressed against the side of the enclosed railing. In the center, which was also the support for the Mercy’s flag, a small crate sat full of bundles of food that looked to have been purchased from land. Did she restock while they were docked? A small barrel of water and a funnel sat beside the stock of food, which she clearly refilled with the rain.

  Resting against the railing was a long barreled single shot rifle, along with the tapper and bullets. There was also a horn full of gunpowder hanging off of a small nail, in easy reach for when needed. Ninia knew that Jendul also had various knives, but they were likely on her person as they were nowhere to be seen.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Jendul was leaning forward against the railing, starting out into the distance. Ninia approached and looked out over the edge, trying to not glance downward toward the deck of the ship. Following Jendul’s gaze, Ninia saw a massive mountain in the distance, dark against the sky.

  The Dead Hills.

  The smaller of the two moons, Syphys, began to pass in front of the sun, the sudden chill making Ninia shiver. Their proximity to the Dead Hills at the center of Wrinthim meant that it would never be particularly cold, the sudden change was just more noticeable.

  Or it was the sight of the most beautiful Continent in Wrinthim, now fallen to time and heat, that caused the chills.

  The mountain rose out of the center of the world, a sharp incline that could be described as spire-like, as if it weren’t a mountain at all but a pillar built to hold up the sky itself, but cut short as to miss its goal. It was hard to distinguish any detail from such a distance but Ninia could barely make out specks of reflected light from the sun above, Syphys not yet passing over the center of the world.

  Legends speak of the land of the Dead Hills, the name lost to time, as once being flush with life, greener and more vibrant than any of the six continents. Well, five, if the fall of Retin counted against the total.

  All life on Wrinthim supposedly came from the Dead Hills, and the Three Gods, Yanuan, Panuan, and Manuan, led life all of the way to the edge of the Ice Wall that surrounded the world. Then the sun began to fall. The weather having once been pristine and uniform across the world turned hot and uninhabitable so the Triplets were forced to make a difficult decision. They collapsed the edges of the world to bring the frigid Ice Wall closer to the center and they halted the descent of the sun.

  This event, the Quiat it was called. A desperate ploy to save the world the Triplets had crafted, led to the outer edges of the world to be colder and left the Dead Hills burned.

  So Ninia had been told when she was growing up, anyways.

  The Mercy of Dradinoor was perhaps a day’s sail away from the coast of the Dead Hills, but even at such a distance the spire-like mountain was massive, visible anywhere on Wrinthim. small islands circled the central continent topped with tall square buildings. Ninia had heard of these, prisons said to hold inmates far worse than could be safely kept in regular prisons. Violent, all held together in prisons said to be run by the inmates themselves.

  There wasn’t much else to see from the top of the Gull’s nest, they were far enough away from anything else for everything to be little more than specks in the distance.

  “It’s wonderful up here.” Ninia said quietly, and she was surprised to hear those words come from her mouth.

  “Aye, it is.” Jendul said with a sigh. “Why do you think I spend so much time up here?”

  “Because you don’t want to deal with the rest of us.”

  “That’s—” Jendul hesitated. “No, no that’s accurate, yeah.” Then she smiled. “Small bits of time is different, however.”

  Ninia smiled back. She thought Jendul had a lovely smile, which made her sad that it wasn’t around very often. “You got any food to share?” Ninia asked, trying to keep the mood relaxed. “I’m not sure Higlim is going to be making anything good today.”

  “You’re telling me Higlim makes good food sometimes?” Jendul asked, laughing. “Surely you jest, Jinia.”

  Ninia groaned. “Please, don’t start doing that, too. I can barely handle Higlim doing it.”

  “He does it to everyone when they first come on board.” Jendul said with a shrug. “I was Jenny more than once.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense,” Ninia knit her eyebrows together. “Jenny and Jendul begin with completely different sounds.”

  “Maybe in his homeland they conflate the two sounds.” Jendul suggested. She dug into the pile of food and pulled out a package wrapped with paper and tied with twine. “When you head back down, can you bring this to Higlim? He asked me to pick it up when we landed last and I forgot to give it to him.”

  *

  Several hours later Ninia contemplated the rope to descend downward. It swayed in the rocking of the ship. Her hands still hurt from the climb up. She grabbed the package by the twine with her teeth and dropped down, grabbing the rope by her hands. She climbed down slowly, the pain from the rough fibers sharp on her raw skin. Part of her considered that sliding down the rope would be significantly faster, but she knew that she would regret it.

  Feet back on the deck, Ninia swayed more than she ought to, her body used to the more drastic listings from up on the Gull’s Nest. She approached the stairway leading into the belly of the ship just as Midin was beginning her voyage across the sun, bringing full nighttime as opposed to the partial darkness of Syphys.

  Ninia entered the hold where Higlim worked, the smells coming from the pot of stew on the wood burning stove only burned her nose a little bit. “Ayo, Friniata!” Higlim called, his arthritic fingers curled against the wooden spoon he was using to stir. “Good to see you again, lass.”

  Ignoring the jibe, Ninia dropped the package on the wooden countertop. “From Jendul.”

  “Ah, she actually came through for me.” Higlim said, letting go of the spoon and hobbling over to where the package sat. He struggled to pull the knots free due to his joint issues, but he also rejected Ninia’s offer at cutting the twine cords with her knife.

  After a moment of struggle, the cord came undone and the wrappings came off. Inside were a dozen lengths of what appeared to be wood, thin yet curled in on themselves. They were a deep brown with hints of red.

  “What is that, Higlim?” Ninia asked, looking over his shoulder.

  “Prinia, this be sinbark!” He offered her one of the sticks, then grabbed another and held it to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Hard to get anywhere but Rythmar.”

  Holding her piece of sinbark, Ninia inhaled. The smell was incredible, woody and warm but almost sweet at the same time. Then she coughed, the sensation going from warm and pleasant to fiery and hot, burning her nose. “Gah!”

  “Ayo, that’s the beauty of sinbark.” Higlim said, grabbing Ninia’s stick and dropping it back into the wrapping. “The burn, truly this is what makes you feel alive, no?”

  “No,” Ninia disagreed, her eyes watering. “No, it doesn’t make me feel alive it honestly makes me a little angry.”

  Higlim laughed. “You may have a lot to learn about food, Ginia.” The cook said. “This will go beautifully in my new recipe.”

  “You want to improve some of your cooking by adding wood to it?”

  “Renina, have faith in yer cook.” Higlim said, clutching at his chest in feigned disbelief. “Besides, Phinny there will tell me if it’s bad first.”

  Higlim pointed over in the corner of the hold where Timphinny sat slumped against a barrel. He had an empty bottle of rum in his hand, fingers tight around it even though he was sleeping soundly.

  A gurgling noise came from the cell in the hold. Ninia had forgotten about it as it was covered with a curtain, forcing the would be slaver Yaskin into privacy. Grabbing the curtain, Ninia pulled it to the side. Yaskin was lying on his side facing the hull of the ship, still in the fetal position.

  “Our guest isn’t too happy, Kinia.” Higlim said with a sigh, his mood declining. “He knows that Drags will want some words from him in the name of our Captain. That, and his throat was burned so he cannot speak much anyways.”

  Ninia nodded, staring at Yaskin. She had a hard time feeling any sympathy for the man after what he had tried to do. Had he managed to snag other innocent people and force them into slavery before Captain Alinyaln had beaten him down?

  She spit at the man, the saliva landing on the rough wood of the cell. Dropping the curtain back into place, Ninia stepped over to the pot of bubbling stew. She grabbed Higlim’s spoon and brought a bite to her mouth. The taste of burning grease filled her mouth and she spit it out, gagging. “What in tarnation is that?”

  “It’s just me boiling off the stew from yesterday, Linia.” Higlim said, trying to smile at her, but not quite succeeding. “I never said we were eating stew tonight!”