Chapter 11: Unacceptable Losses

Sara found herself on the cliff in her dreams again. Great…there must be something important here that I’m missing. She raised her arm and gingerly extended her hand, palm up. A small light wavered into existence. Not the best, but it’ll do…for now.

The darkness receded a little more. Again, she set out, although now she had all her gear worn and was ready for anything. Yet still, she found herself back at the cliff. Sara sighed and climbed down again, hitting bottom soon. She waited for the voice from the darkness, and was not disappointed.

“Sara. You’re back…”

Sara looked around, trying futilely to project the light from her palm onto the speaker.

“You will not find out who I am. Even he does not know.”

Sara shivered. “Who is ‘he’?”

“You know who he is.”

Sara shrugged in an effort to look uncaring. “So? Why does it matter if you are known?”

“My existence depends on my identity. If my identity were known to the wrong person, it would not end well. And others would die. Not by my choice.”

Sara still didn’t understand. “So you can’t even give me your name?”

The voice hesitated, and then spoke with a slight undertone of humor. “You may call me…Nanashi. We will speak again.”

Sara could tell the voice was gone, but she spoke anyways. “Why do you keep bringing me here?”

And then the pain started. The searing, blinding pain that made her drop to her knees and extinguish the light from her hand. Healing and defense…doesn’t work…against this…

She was on the verge of passing out when she felt the pain begin to ease. Whatever was causing the change was painstakingly slow, but it faded until the pain was a memory, and she knew she could sleep again.

Sara woke up the next morning, twisted inside the blanket, taking several deep breaths as she remembered the pain. I would’ve preferred no dream at all, but I guess I’ll take whatever I can get. Looking over at Darren’s bed, she noticed his face contorted, and hands clenched, muttering as he slept.

She considered waking him. It turned out to be unnecessary, as he woke up on his own with a sharp intake of breath. He rolled over and turned to face Sara, and seeing her awake, stood up. “I’d forgotten what that pain was like. You cried out in your sleep, and I did what I could. The pain in each dream will become less as you become more accustomed to using magic. At least, that’s what happened with me.”

Sara nodded. “Thanks for helping.” Darren smiled. “Anytime.”

Sara paused from making her bed. “Wait…you had the dreams when you first got here too?”

Darren nodded. “Cliff, pain, and darkness.”

Sara tilted her head to one side. “So…who’s the voice, then?”

Darren looked at her, puzzled. “The what?”

“The voice. The voice that whispers from the darkness. I just got him to tell me his name; it’s Nanashi.”

Darren sat down, facing her. “His name’s Nanashi? Ironic. The man who refuses to give his name finally tells you he's nameless. But I never had a voice in my dreams. It was just solid darkness until bright light and pain hit, and then I woke up. Nanashi…we’ll look in the library for that, too.”

Sara lay back down and closed her eyes. “What time is it?”

Darren walked to the door of the cabin and opened it. “Looks to be about…I’d say ten or eleven in the morning. Time for breakfast.”

They ate in silence on the deck near the mast, swallowing the tasteless food with little complaint. It couldn’t be helped; they all got rationed food to help save for the ship’s return voyage.

Darren finished first and stood up, brushing loose crumbs of stale bread from his cloak. He climbed up to the top of the sail at the stern, using ropes and grabbing the sail at the sturdy points.

A few sailors looked up at him, and then went about their business, shaking their heads. Darren shaded his eyes from the sun, looking in all directions and noticing nothing unusual. Sara shook her head and turned to go sit at the bow, and almost ran into a rather large sailor with a surly temperament. “What’re YOU lookin at, missy?”

Sara stepped back quickly. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The sailor eyed her suspiciously, felt his pocket to make sure his money was still there, and limped away, muttering under his breath. Sara made her way to the bow, slightly embarrassed, and glad Darren hadn’t noticed. He was still enjoying the sun and breeze, out of danger and free of worries. At least, that’s what he seemed to be doing.

Darren examined the boat and people on it from his vantage point high above them, positive that something was wrong, but not knowing just where. That sailor didn’t always have such a bad attitude, and the crew seemed edgy, as if they were also feeling that something was wrong and they weren’t able to find it. Sara seems to know it as well…even if it’s subconscious.

The day passed slowly, since Darren and Sara were eyed with suspicion and not allowed to help with anything. They couldn’t train in magic, because of the crew on deck and Sara didn’t want to risk using illusion so soon after being exhausted. They couldn’t spar, because Sara needed to relax her muscles, or she risked overworking them.
~
The next day dawned bright and clear, nothing between the sun and the ship. That night had been blessedly uneventful; neither of the two stirring once or even dreaming.

Darren stood on the stern, enjoying the rays when Sara walked up behind him. “A perfect day for sparring, eh Sara? How are you feeling?”

Sara let the sun warm her face for a while longer before responding. “Better.” Her voice took on a slightly sarcastic tone. “I don’t wince every time I lift my arms above my waist, and the throbbing in my head has gone down.”

Darren played innocent. “What are you trying to say?”

Sara gave him a look. “Is that your normal routine?”

Darren smiled. “I had to lower the workout so you wouldn’t die of exhaustion.”

Sara rolled her eyes as Darren kept speaking.

“Well, actually, I stepped it up a bit for you, so you could sleep better and get a good start. And you did, right?”

Sara nodded.

“Well then, I think it worked. At least for now, that is. Can you spar without feeling too much pain?”

Sara spent the next five minutes stretching and practicing by herself. “Yeah, I think I can manage.”

Darren pulled out his sword. “Then let’s begin.”

Their weapons hadn’t connected twice when the watchman cried out in surprise. “Storm coming off the starboard bow!”

Darren looked up at the sky, and then ran to the bow, sheathing his sword as he ran. Sure enough, there were ominous dark clouds rolling in quick. Too quickly for a normal storm…"Sara! Don’t head for the cabin! Go to the lower deck!" Sara nodded and made her way through the crew to the hatch.

Darren stayed on deck for another minute or so, evaluating the ship and storm. {Darren, you might want to come down here. Now.} {Alright, be there soon.} He turned and followed a group of the crew down below.

Sara sat on a bench amongst the cargo, tossing a knife up and catching it different ways. Darren stepped in and looked around. “What’s wrong?”

Sara pointed to a barrel with the knife. Darren wiped the label clean. “It’s a barrel of food. Dried meat and rice, to be specific.”

Sara shook her head and pointed to another barrel labeled similarly, but with a loose piece of wood. Darren stooped, inspected the red powder leaking out, and backed away. “Sara…do you know what this is?”

Sara didn’t.

Darren sighed, but not at her. “It’s called gnib. Silent g, like gnat. It’s Shirn’s equivalent of cocaine, but with even ‘better’ effects. Highly illegal, but extremely profitable. The king is still trying to stamp out the small pockets of smugglers that deal in it.”

Sara slowed her breathing and stepped away from it. Darren smiled slightly. “It has to be burned to produce the desired effect. Breathing it in or ingesting it has about the same effect as eating sugar.”

Sara breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived. “This makes sense. There were people talking about something on this boat in hushed voices outside my window at the inn. I couldn’t hear enough, but what they said fits perfectly. I didn’t recognize any of them.”

Darren stared at the gnib without seeing it. “I wonder how many people onboard are smugglers. And this couldn’t have been the only reason the crew was uneasy. The storm is clearly unnatural, but there’s no-one here who could’ve caused it. This hole in the barrel…it looks like it was made intentionally. No-one would dare light a fire on this ship, though. I’ve heard of gnib used as nourishment…but…”

Darren walked around the room, studying the floor. He stopped at a corner, kneeled, and knocked on the floor. “There’s a trapdoor.”

He unsheathed his sword and pried it open, revealing a boy of 12 shielding a little girl and his mother with an infant. The boy stood up, clearly trying to be unafraid. “You’ll never take us back!” He jumped out at Darren, trying to grab his sword.

Darren stepped back, amused. “Easy, there.” He put his sword away. “How long have you been hiding?”

The boy shook his head defiantly. “I’ll never talk.”

Darren laughed. “Look, you might not realize this, but you’re safer now than ever before. Do you even know where this ship is going?”

The boy seemed unsure. “Yeah…kind of. It’s away from North Shirn, so we can be safe. Safe from the slavers.”

Sara crossed the room and kneeled down, helping the little girl out of the cramped hole. The mother climbed out, protecting her baby. Sara offered them food from one of the real food barrels. “Please, eat something. You look starved.”

After much hesitation, the family agreed. The boy did his best to answer Darren’s questions in between bites. They were from North Shirn, the father had died at the hands of monsters, the family had quickly gone into debt, and were hiding aboard, trying to avoid the inevitable slave sale of the woman and daughter as prostitutes. Once in South Shirn, they couldn’t be shipped back.

Sara looked at Darren in shock. {She can’t be more than seven!} Darren’s face showed the sadness of many years. {I know…I know…it’s horrible.}

Darren stood up. “Well, it’s not like they can turn the ship around. So you’re probably safe. We certainly can’t let you go back into that tiny hole. We’ll figure out what to do after this storm ends.”

Someone pounded on the hatch. The family huddled together in scared silence.

Darren turned to Sara. “Guard them. Don’t let anything hurt them.” Sara nodded her assent.

The hatch opened before Darren could even get to it, crewmen spilling into the room. The group picked themselves up, soaked and miserable. Some of them noticed the refugees, and soon everyone was talking. “How did they…when could…so that’s where…”

Darren smashed his fist into the dinner bell hanging from the ceiling, shattering it and creating a high-pitched ringing that silenced the talking. All eyes were on him.

He returned the stares, cold and hard. “How many of you knew about the gnib?”

Four of the two dozen or so crew raised their hands. The hatch slammed shut, and Darren deliberately reached for his weapon. Instantly, all hands went up. “That’s what I thought. Right now, though, we have to worry about the storm.”

The crew muttered among themselves. Darren glanced back at the family, and then turned back to the crew. “Alright, then. I’ll ignore the gnib and not report it, but only if you supply this family with food, water, clothing, and enough money to start a new life.”

Everyone seemed to cheer up slightly. No report of gnib meant trade prices would stay low, and profits would stay high. The captain stepped forward. “It’s a deal. But we best be lying down, or yer all getting hurt from the storm.”

The ship’s gentle movement became a hard side-to-side rocking that increased over the space of an hour. Darren kneeled, waiting until the rocking slowed for a minute, and then bounded up the stairs and out the hatch.

The crew watched incredulously as Sara followed him, yelling after him.

Sara squinted through the sheets of falling rain, closing her eyes as lightning flashed. She could barely see a port far off in the distance, if she looked hard. But where’s Darren? She looked up, and then she saw him.

Darren stood on the highest point of the ship, eyes closed, cloak billowing in the wind, arms outstretched to the heavens. Sara’s mouth opened. What is he DOING? His right hand rose and his left hand fell in changing patterns, then, bringing them back across his chest, they slid past without touching each other.

The storm rose in intensity, pushing the ship further towards the town.

Lighting seemed to gather directly above Darren and struck where Darren was standing, causing Sara to shield her eyes from the intense flashes of white. Darren! She blinked rapidly and looked again.

Darren’s right hand was held above his head by his left. The lightning was no longer striking, but constantly hitting in one steady stream. Not a natural storm…Where Darren’s right hand and the lightning met, the aura of power shone both transparent and noticeable, and the lightning divided. A stray bolt blasted a lesser sail, causing it to shudder and groan as it collapsed on the deck. Most blazed into the water, narrowly missing the ship.

They stayed that way for mere seconds, but it seemed like hours. The lightning dissipated, Darren lowered his hand, and he floated down from the rigging.

Sara looked at him for a second. “Very impressive. You forgot the flashing lights saying ‘I’m a sorcerer.’”

Darren winked at her. “Complaints not accepted at this time. Come back the next time I save the ship.”

The crew cautiously opened the hatch, hoping the worst was gone. And indeed, the storm seemed over. The clouds retreated just as quickly as they came; the rain was gone. But the wind and rain had pushed the ship hard.

The battered ship sailed into port three days ahead of schedule.

- posted by Nick @ 4/22/2004 11:13:00 AM