Jo Clayton - Drinker of Souls

“Then we sail on luck and hope,” he said, “and fight if we have to.”

“There’s nothing else?”

“No.”

THE NEXT TWO DAYS passed bright and clear, with spanking winds that propelled the ship across the glittering blue as if she were greased. Sammang watched Brann move about the ship, taking pains to keep out of the way of anyone who was working. She respected skill and found the sailors fascinating. Both things showed. The crew saw both, were flattered and fascinated in their turn and the children helped with that by staying below where their strangeness wouldn’t keep reminding the men of corpses in dark alleys and corpses floating in the bay. Young Tik-rat was wary of her for an hour or two, but he succumbed to her charm after she’d followed him about awhile as he played his pipe to help the work go easier; he spent the hour after that teaching her worksongs. Leymas was the next she won. He taught her a handful of knots then set her to making grommets; she was neat-fingered and used to working with her hands and delighted when he praised her efforts. Sammang continued to watch when he had a moment free, amused by her ease with them as if they were older brothers or male cousins, as if she willed them to forget her ripe body, damping ruthlessly any hint of sexuality. One by one his crew fell to her charm and began treating her as a small sister they were rather fond of, fonder as the second day faded into the third. By then he couldn’t move about the deck without finding her huddled with one of the men, her strong clever hands weaving knots, her head cocked to one side, listening with skeptical delight to the extravagant tale he was spinning for her. Even Hairy Jimm told her lies and let her take the wheel so she could feel the life of the ship while he showed her how to read the Black Lady, the swinging lodestone needle, and put that together with the smell of the wind and the look of the sea to keep the ship rushing along the proper course.

She had relaxed abruptly and utterly all her own wariness and pretenses and was the child of the gentle place where she’d been reared. He saw in her the naive and trusting boy he’d been when he found his island growing too small for him and he’d smuggled himself on board one of the trading ships that stopped at Perando in the Pandaysarradup. He’d been confident in his abilities and eager to see the great world beyond, never hurt deliberately and with malice, trust never betrayed, friendly as a puppy. It took a lot of trampling and treachery to knock most of that out of him. He saw the same kind of trust in her and he sighed for the pain coming to her, but knew he couldn’t shield her from that pain-and if he could he wouldn’t. To survive, she had to learn. Even the Temuengs hadn’t taught her to be afraid of others; here, surrounded by people who were not threatening, who responded to her friendliness with good will and friendliness of their own, she’d let her guard down. Not a good habit to get into. Still he couldn’t condemn it totally as foolishness, it had done her good with the men. And, he had to admit to himself, with him.

The fifth day slid easily into the sixth; no Djelaan yet, but the rising of the sun showed him clouds blowing about a low dark smear north and west of the Girl. The southernmost of a spray of uninhabited coral atolls, most of them with little soil and no water, good only to shelter pirate proas while the Djelaan waited to ambush ships that ventured past. He scowled at it. Was it empty of life except for birds and a few small rodents or were a dozen proas pulled up on one of its crumbly beaches with a weatherman set to cast his spells?

Brann came to the bow and stood beside him. “Is that Selt?”

“No.”

“Thought it was a bit soon. Djelaanr

“If they’re coming, that’s where they’ll come from.” She chewed her lip a moment. “I can’t judge distances at sea”

“Well come even with the island about mid-afternoon, be about a half-day’s sail south of it.”

“And you’d like to know if you can relax or should get ready to fight.”

“Right.”

“And the trip is a little more than half over?”

“Wind keeps up and pirates keep away, we should be in Silili say about sundown five days on.”

“Mmm. Children lying dormant, they haven’t used as much energy as they’d ordinarily do.” She looked around at the crew, then straightened her shoulders, stiffened her spine. “Jaril will fly over the islands and Yaril will tell us what he sees. You’d better warn Nam and the others; it’s sort of startling the first time you see one of the children changing.”

Sammang wasn’t sure what was going to happen but suspected it would be spectacular and remind him and his crew forcibly she wasn’t little sister to all the world. He patted her hand. “They won’t faint, Bramble.”

She looked up at him, startled, then half-smiled and shook her head. “Well… I’d better fetch them up.” She left him and moved with brisk assurance along the deck.

He went back to stand by Hairy Jimm who had taken the wheel awhile because he was nearly as fond of the Girl as Sammang and loved the feel of her under his hands. “Our witch is getting set to scare the shit out of us.”

“Hanh.” Jimm took a hand off the wheel, scratched at his beard. “Hey, she our witch, Sammo. Ehh Stubb,” he boomed. “On your feet.”

The dozing helmsman started, came to his feet, looked dazedly about. “Huh?” Then he came awake a bit more and strolled yawning over to them.

“Grab hold.” As soon as Staro the Stub had the wheel, Jimm moved away. “Our witch gon be showing her stuff and I want a close eye on it.”

By the time Brann came up on deck with Yaril and Jaril, the news had spread through the crew. Even those supposed to be sleeping settled themselves inconspicuously about the deck doing small bits of busywork. Sammang looked around, amused. The way Hairy Jimm said our witch, with the air of a new father contemplating his offspring, made him want to laugh until he realized he felt much the same way.

She came up to Sammang and Hairy Jim. “What’s the most common large bird that flies out this far?”

“Albatross. Why?”

She turned to the boy. “You know that one?”

Jaril grinned at her and suddenly the grin was gone, the boy was gone, there was a shimmer of gold and a large white bird with black wingtips was pulling powerfully at the air and rising in a tight spiral above the ship; a heartbeat later it was speeding toward the island.

YARIL SRRS WITH her back against the mast, her eyes shut, her high young voice sounding over the wind and water sounds, the creaking of mast and timber.

First island. Nothing from high up, going closer, some birds objecting, no beaches, no sort of anchorage. Going on to the next.

Silence. The listeners wait without fuss, quietly working, not talking.

Second island. More trees. Don’t see any sign of surface water. Definitely deserted, quiet enough to hear a rat scratch.

Silence. Sammang gazes at Brann wondering what she is thinking.

Third island. This one’s the lucky dip. A dozen proas drawn up by a stream cutting through a bit of beach, apparently water’s the main attraction. Maybe a hundred Djelaan, war party, clubs, spears, throwing sticks, long knives, war axes. A clutch of them cheering on a tattooed man who’s throwing a fit. Ah, the fit’s over. Look at them scoot. Anyone want to wager the tattooed gent wasn’t telling them about this fine fat ship passing by? Get a move on, folks, you got trouble rolling at you.

THEY RACED WEST and south, carrying as much sail as the rigging would stand, the Girl groaning and shuddering, fighting the drag of the weed on her hull. In spite of that she sang splendidly through the water. She popped rigging and staggered now and then, but the crew replaced and improvised and held her together as much by will as skill. Sammang was all over the deck, adding his strength where it was needed, eyes busy searching for breaks. He heard laughter and saw Brann beside him, her gyeen eyes snapping with sheer delight in the excitement swirling about her. For a breath or two he gwzed at her and was very nearly the boy who’d run to the wider world confidently expecting marvels. Then he went back to nursing his Girl.