"Stern at level with the bow
There we go, on we go.
Voyage out with the straits cleft of pain
Hither he went as a hurricane.

His lips sang as shattered winds
Hallowed seams filled with battered beliefs that he thinned.
Let water be a bed, a bed of Nherse
Meet Creation the Mother, the Father, the Child that hath birthed.

Temperate thunder, now gay winds do blow
Seeds to sow, on we go.
Thoughts thirsty, as is the tide - sea drowns sea
Which drowns mesh, drains sand, heals wounds, cuts flesh.

Swim and duck and kiss a friend - aye, fiend's billow of burn
Embrace Creation the Mother, the Father, the Child that hath Birthed.
Lo! Counselled, sprayed, wet with wisdom, wit in thine heart -
There we go, on we go, on we go."

~Unknown, 'Records of Requiem'

{retrv. Nywan Era - Educatori, Chisteen}

The girl looking back at her from within the mirror was a stranger. Her hair was sleek black where it should've been the color of dried mud, and there was a allure to her eye which the previous Addie had not possessed.

The miracles a bath can render, commented her nails.

Morning crawled across her skin when she got into the breeches Disha had arranged for her. It had not finished its crawl as Addie gorged on food, nor when she graced the oat-hay-horse-manure-smelling ostler with a most kind smile.

"Ain't she lovely, m'lady?" said he in response. "When she's a-walkin' it feels like she's a-flyin'. Not a better steed in the w'ole Gorpal you could find, wager me on that."

"Yes." Addie stroked the piebald in front of her, whinnying in her breath. "Why would you want to sell her?"

"Money, 'course, what else? Wouldn't've sold her still if I had 'nother to, but I don't. She's the only free horse up for availin'."

"What's her name?"

"Dumket," said the ostler. "Ain't it a lovely name for a lovely steed?"

"Dumket? As in Reancese for Untiring?"

"I wouldn' be knowing none o' that, m'lady. Osson named it. 'ee was the last man that worked 'ere. My tongue suits only me language well."

Balwen came out and paid the man the exorbitant price of Dumket and Gryphik's roan. Any lower breed horse they could have make done with - to the docks was only a few hours' ride from the Stayback Inn - but the ostler was convinced they would not be able to find steeds elsewhere. At any rate, they did not have the time for scout or bargain.

The four Jen already had orrocks they had hired at their arrival - each taller than any horse, stronger and meaner on top, with maroon eyes and pebbled skin and two whip-like tails.

In the saddle, Addie felt tall as well as impure. She had no right to feel this fresh. No right to feel Belraed's warmth upon her skin with Master dead. Yet she felt it as they set out to ride, with a belly so full of cheap beer it made River Orves look like a wet kiss in comparison.

"At least the Commander didn't give us trouble," said Gryphik, at which Disha tittered. "What?"

"He couldn't if he wanted to," she told him. "My hand slipped over his meal last night."

"What - ?"

"Valerian roots. He'll sleep through the day if he's half healthy."

"By which time we'll be on a gangplank," Doin put in.

"If we ride hard, that is," said Sadh, and spurred his stallion to speed.

Short cuts make long delays. So the party wounded their way around River Orves's banks, until they were capering through the Sickhammer Tunnel. It was a long one, with many recesses and wallets in its stone walls, each dappled with piss and spit and mildew and nitre. Dragoses zipped around in masses. In many ways, Sickhammer Tunnel reminded Addie of a certain nameless underpass in Charmat - the Hicks called it 'the Drab' - where she had sought retreat whenever the Watch had chased her for picking a rich old lady's purse.

For fear of an encounter with the Ptirrens heading back east, Sadh suggested they go by the active Torsmith Road. Addie wondered how he knew all these provincial names, wondered if he was making them up, but then orrock snorts filled the darkness of the tunnel.

"They're panicking," Doin affirmed. "They can't see where they're going. Darling?"

Addie had better eyesight than majority, always had, and she could just make out Disha jumping off her steed and moving over to Doin's. She did something, and his orrock stopped agitating.

Addie thought she also heard a soft wet kiss.

"Little help here, lover lady?" Balwen's voice. Addie realized this was the first time she had heard the dwarf speak.

Disha went to him - his saddle was a strap-on with miniature banisters so he could ride like a man of normal height - and then his ride was placid also.

"Anyone else need a hand?"

"You forget I am a Tester too," said Gryphik. "I've been pacifying the darn creature's nerves since it started moving."

"Sadh? Adeline?" Disha offered.

"Dumket is fine, thank you," said she, stroking the piebald's hair. "I have a way with animals. And please, call me Addie."

A chime later, they were out under the sun's scowl again. A chime after that, cavorting past an abandoned-looking croft with corroded tools on display - rattraps and coffin lids and truncheons and travois and other junk. They passed several modest cottages, each giving off a faint acrid smell. Huge hounds yapped at them from one such cottage.

Death, Death, Death, Addie heard them say. Dumket picked up pace.

"Step lively!" Sadh said as Gryphik fell behind. The minstrel's roan pulled up besides Addie, his one good arm grasping the reins tight.

"What is it?" Addie said, annoyed, when he wouldn't stop staring at her.

"Nothing," said Gryphik.

"Well then, get off my tit!"

"It's just that . . . your eyes, shren-aef. I could've sworn they were black as mine when I met you. Now they're green."

"That's ridiculous," Addie said, mentally requesting Dumket to speed up. Funnily enough, she could not remember what the true color of her eyes was; it had never held any gravity.

They must be green always, her swordhand mageic nail spoke. It was darkness that fooled the minstrel.

Said the other thus: You are no Aaserrdae. Only their eyes change shades.

She felt annoyed at Gryphik because of something deeper, though. She had known Master Harl for a year, devoted all her time to his tutelage. And then a man comes along who knows more about her Master than she ever gathered in four seasons, tells her even the name she addressed him by was a fake. It was infuriating.

All houses lining the Torsmith looked deserted, unbridled. It was in no way active, and the Shadowspawn would not have a hard time pouncing out at them from any cottage that tickled their fancy. Dark thoughts ran through Addie's head, so she was glad when Doin suggested they sing a song.

It felt transgression to interrupt Disha and her lover once they entered a melody, so Addie kept quiet. Her heartbeat slowed, although she could not be sure if that was Gryphik or Disha playing with it by mageic, or the song.

Balwen grunted happily as one song paved path for another, and another for the next. Addie looked at their faces, all so different. All Jen are family, Sadh had said. Would that make Disha and Doin's relationship consanguineous?

That's the wrong question to ask, spoke her left nail. The real question is, how long they'll remain blithe?

Why, yes, agreed the other. Wherever she goes misfortune spreads its wings. Remember Lalmeja?

Aye, how could I ever forget . . . Let us hope the Jen are more resilient in their contentedness.

Let us.

Where Gryphik's horse and even the orrocks demanded rest, Dumket did not. Instead of obliging, however, Disha and Gryphik used their mageic to renew the animals' strength.

After that they made good time. Crossing rock-choked Gorpal gullies and dikes, where men fished for sonids in nets, they sensed salt and fish in the air. Roads got wider and slicker. They slowed to a standstill well before sundown.

Port Konta was splayed before them.

The quay was jam-packed. Filled with barges and watercrafts of all kinds, even two ships. A skiff was being loaded by stevedores onto the one of the two ships. A gondola was tied off to the far right, unoccupied. Two men in see-through shirts were shouting orders from a raft.

Addie felt her stomach roll over, then unroll and somersault. She had never been on waters bigger than a lake before.

She tore her eyes from the marina to a galley lying on its side on the land besides an algae-ridden rock. It was a thirty-paddled thing, filled with barnacles (or another insect of their ilk), big enough for it to require fifty men on rig to row. She piloted Dumket towards it, circuited around it for she knew not how long, until Doin called out over all the commotion from the stevedores: "Ours is that one!"

He was pointing at one of the ships. The beast grew bigger as they drew nearer towards it, a square-rigged craft with a massive musty prow and double-hull. Its freeboard was low, sails high.

Sadh was in talk with a paunchy, eagle-nosed man on the pier before it. The former was smiling copiously while the latter had his face scrunched, hand on his cutlass.

Addie dismounted her piebald, rubbed her ear, and headed towards them. Her legs gave away at once; she was not used to riding. The ground nearly slipped off, but her feet caught it and held on.

"Copper for base, copper in the hull," the paunchy man was saying. He had a very loud, nasal voice and strongly emanated the sour stink of booze. "Copper between the two! Station at Port Sokaband - that's in Baendol - three cabins, three meals a day, no more!"

"Can't we get four of each?" said Sadh.

"Frunota, no! What are you, a prince?"

Sadh sighed, then fished a pouch out his pocket. "Fine. Here's your advance."

The man snatched it. "Good! You're a part of the crew then."

"Ah, Adeline," said Sadh as he saw her. "This is Captain Ainar Mhaku."

He's the captain? Oh, we're going to capsize.

Mhaku sized her up. "You didn't say you'd have women with you."

"Is that a problem?" said Addie.

"No, no problem." Mhaku waved his hand. "Just that . . . sure you have the stomach for it, girl? 'tis not a small sail your lot's on for. And the crew's all men. Except Y'tra, but she's more wildebeest than woman."

"What's her name, Cap?" Sadh said, nodding at the brig, before Addie could retort.

"Guese Thazeon," said Mhaku. "But we call her Sink. Keeps the lads on their toes. She used to be on the Bedlam Fleet Armada before the First Disaster."

"Sink?" Addie hadn't known Gryphik was there until he spoke. "Your ship's called Sink?"

Just then, a grey shape burrowed its claws into Mhaku's shoulder. Addie took a step back in spite of herself, but the captain simply petted the thing. "This is Ichika," Mhaku introduced. "She's craving for sea again."

"What is she?" Addie inquired, looking at its bright orange bill and patterned grey plumage.

Mhaku frowned. "Why, she's a sea sparrow, she is."

"That's no sparrow," said Gryphik. "Sparrows aren't that big. I have seen one of these before. That's a crested auklet, I am sure of it."

"Bucekarl and lubber, same thing!" Mhaku claimed as the bird bit at his finger. "They were wiped extinct at the Second Quenching. Re-emerged in the Ostren Era. Only found at sea now. Very auspicious birds, none like them, none even close!"

"If you say so," said Sadh, dispelling the off-track. "When shall we set to sail?"

"Joost!" yelled Mhaku, ignoring the question. A tanned boy with eyes like silver scintis ran to the captain. Ichika preened and flung herself into the air. "This," Mhaku gestured at the boy, "is Joost Aklump. Cargochief and my second in command. Don't go by the year in his looks, he's got brains like a scholar's. Found him choking on sand on a beach in Aghuren. Turned out, he's sharper than a chisel! So tell these novice sailors when we'll take to sail, Joost m'boy!"

"Before the Deckers can charge us the night tax," said Joost. He seemed to be avoiding eye contact.

"That's right! The pots darned 'King's Men'!" Mhaku shoved a thumb in the direction of the two men on the raft-canoe, shouting commands. "Charge us to dock like they own the quay!"

"They do own the quay," Sadh pointed out. "You should pay them."

"Aye, you think I haven't already!"

"Then why the hurry?"

"Never you mind that," said Mhaku, touching the cutlass on his hip. "Just be here by nightfall, by my behest. And on my ship, my behest is law. Ten beats late, and you're to be left on land! I'll have my crew check your luggage and such before you board. Savvy?"

"Actually," said Sadh, "we should have a chat about that . . ."

Joost furrowed his brow as Sadh handed over another, smaller pouch to the captain. Addie heard Gryphik mutter something under his breath, and Joost's expression turned mild again.

"I wish sea weren't the only route," Addie said miserably as they rode back to the outskirts of Gorpal. They were hoping to find a tavern, have a nice beer on land, and sell the orrocks and horses for some money. "This is going to be a two month long expedition, isn't it?"

"Think of it as a vacation," Doin advised. "Besides, there will be a stop at Baendol, didn't you say?"

"That's what I heard," said she.

Saying goodbye to the foal ended up being more difficult than she could have foreseen. Dumket, it appeared, seemed not to be taking her separation with Addie well at all. She kicked the man she was sold to right in the rear. Only subsequent to Addie's austere stare did she stop with her thrashing.

Sadh obtained two bronze scintis and an efoper-squall when the transaction was done. Orrocks sold easy, if the buyer had deep pockets and was imbibed on Banesbeer. They walked out of the tavern rich men and women, by which time Belraed was dipping beneath the trees. The sky was forge-iron red.

"We will be late," Addie proclaimed. "He said be there by nightfall."

"He'll wait till morning if we make him, Addie," Disha told her. "He might have the advance, but he still wants the rest of his payment badly enough to pay the Deckers' tax."

"Even so, we should aim reaching in time," said Sadh, who seemed to have studied Ainar Mhaku stem to stern. "Or I suspect we will not be having a fantastic hospitality during our time at sea. No one let slip that we are to go to the Pheeliax, either. That they know our destination is in Nerba is detail enough. We are rovers and vagabonds to them, no more. Mages, Jen, who?"

They started walking. A sonid charged viciously at them out of a culvert along the way. It had a five-foot long, flat body and an ugly, flat head out of which squat tusks jutted out. Addie's knife found its tail before its keen teeth could find their necks. "Noble beast, may your soul find its rightful place in Mino Urba's care," Doin muttered as he finished the deed for her. Addie felt the sonid's heart limp to rest.

When finally they arrived at Port Konta, nothing other than the color of the sky had changed: ropes fastened around skiffs were pulled up the seam of the caravel-ship, the galley was still lying on its side, the Deckers were still shouting from their raft (although they looked to be different men), and their water-beast was still there, impressive and impassive as before. It was rare for a ship to start its cruise this late in the day, bar emergencies.

The ramp was lowered for them. Breath hitching, Addie boarded the brig.

"Ow!" She swiveled her head around to see a boy - eleven summers in him, no more - with blood splat on his face. Balwen, shorter to the boy by an inch, amassed his fists, grunted, and shambled up the gangplank.

"Keep your guard up," Addie told the boy nursing his nose. "We are to be your guests for quite a while now and we are not the sort you steal from. It's best if we get along. Mainly for you."

The boy looked unabashed as he flung Balwen's bags over his shoulder and led him to a cabin. Addie stood on the deck, watching apprehensively as the anchor line was cut. The ramp erected as the capstan turned. Free of rope from the mooring post, the vessel edged without actually listing.

"Widen the berth!" she heard Mhaku bellow from the bridge in his nasal voice. "Loose the topsails! Let's fire her up, sailors!"

The crew cheered.

The Deckers on the raft whistled loudly. Much of the boatswain made obscene gestures at them.

Sails arose to loft, small and large, square and triangular. Water burbled against the hulls. Sharp, delicious, briny air walloped against Addie's face.

Gryphik joined her, placing his cast-arm on the gunwale, peeking down. He inflicted on her a comforting smile. She felt his mageic soothe her like it had soothed Joost Aklump earlier, and gave it full permit.

"Why can't you just heal it?" she whispered to him, eyeing the cast.

"Would that I could," said Gryphik, wary of his words. "The . . . enemy inflicts wounds which none can heal easy."

The dock shrank, starting to move away, away, away. The whistles faded. Gradually they absented themselves.

Addie inhaled deeply, smelling the sea, letting its scent poison her. The Shadneer. The Ocean of all oceans. The one constant throughout all Eras, all Quenchings, all Disasters. In which the Seohrah had drowned themselves. What if she drowned herself, too? Would she become a god? Would she find peace?

She fought off her urge to dive into the water. She closed her eyes. She felt the deck slither out from under her.

Gryphik began reciting a poem.

"Lo! Counselled, sprayed, wet with wisdom, wit in thine heart -
There we go, on we go . . ."

Addie accredited the lines in her mind to some excavator who had sailed to the Beyond. Helmed past the Couped Islands, past Trunazia, past lands known and unknown.

Her eyes cracked open, lifted to the sky. Stars flickered at her. On one end the horizon showed Cupar, the violet moon. On another it heaved Roteb, the scarlet rider red as blood. It was a Moonsnight.

Ichika flew against their radiance, against the surreal backdrop of the sky - now magenta, now black, then an illusion.

Penny for your thoughts?

Bon voyage to Adeline, and bon voyage to you!