"I don't blame you," said Disha, running the comb through her ringlets. "He's a good looking fella."

A distrustful ladder from the stern-deck descended into the cabins. Their cabin was small. It had one bed and one chair and one mirror. The bed was wooden and nailed to the striped panel-wall, so any turbulence may not send it hurling about the place, busting bones. Addie was sitting on it with a bucket full of vomit while Disha combed and surveyed herself in the looking glass.

"What," Addie asked her, "are you talking about?"

Disha put her pretty, almond eyes on her. Her face went all mock-stern. " 'I won't share a cabin with him.' You obviously fancy the man."

"Sadh? Have you hay for brain, or the sea swallowed it whole?"

Disha carried on like Addie had never spoken. "I mean, he may not have the physique, but his eyes make up for it, wouldn't you say? The hair is a bit of a downer, I've always liked the style on Doin . . ."

"Got it. The gods never gave you a brain in the first place."

"The Holder gave me eyes. And unlike a bunch, I use them for more than seeing. I observe. Part of harnessing my mageic, really."

Eager to change the course of their converse, as to distract her stomach from acting up again, Addie pressed on: "How is it, tell me? Being a Tester? How does it feel?"

Disha shrugged. "It's bloody brilliant. Once I made a troop of monkeys piss on the wildings, it was hysterical."

"But how does it feel? When you . . . freeze someone's muscles or - or when you make the monkeys piss?"

"Like I'm flying. Like I'm a thousand feet off the earth, soaring higher and higher. The clouds cushion me, the sky smiles. Afterwards I feel tired. And vulnerable, and weak. Dreadful, the contrast. I wish at times I could have mageic in me all the time as you do."

"You keep saying that," said Addie, "but I don't feel it flowing through me. You're saying I'm using it right now?"

"Yes. I can sense it. Using it for what, I don't know. You are unusually powerful, Adeline."

"Addie. But when the Rys Ami came for me - for us - I couldn't really fight them. I just . . . I couldn't, not half as well as I would've liked."

"You will learn."

"When?"

"In good time. Would you like me to help with your upset stomach?"

"You could?"

"I wouldn't ask if I couldn't."

"Then why haven't you already?"

"Because up till now," Disha disclosed, subjecting the mirror to a rather intense stare, "I thought your puking was tolerable. Now I see it might be contagious."

Addie felt an iron fist plunge into her gut. Making a sound like a starving dog, she set the bucket down by the feet of her bed. "Thank you."

"Correct me if I'm mistaken, but I heard there is another Tehzvan on our ship."

"There is. I saw him."

Disha simpered. "Of course you did."

This was how most afternoons went for Addie on Sink. Conversations with Disha of Horephin more often than not ended on the topic of men. In the end, a Jen woman was only a woman. Addie regretted ever having complained about her fastidious training with Master Harl; this was worse, way worse. Sea did not suit her. Neither did talk of men.

Disha began singing Grey Gravy Galore in the form of a poor pun every time Addie so much as spoke to Sadh. The Tester herself felt not the slightest shame in open displays of affection, in the form of certain activities that she engaged in with Doin. The sailors in turn did not weather shame in gawking at the two lovebirds. A man called Gass, with teeth yellow like ill-aged milk and a nature as indelicate as his name, felt liberal in pleasuring himself watching such displays.

"Fear the Hand," Addie warned him. "There is such a thing as Inira, and your soul will burn in the pits of it for - "

"For what, girl?" Gass said, eyes swell on the sight of the kissing couple through the slit sculptured into the cabin wall. "For jerking off? I could also burn to crisps for cursing, or pissing in the sea, or bedding a whore when we dock at Baendol. For laughing at the wrong jokes, for listening to pagan songs. Frunota, they could roast me as a mutton chop for even having this talk with you! There's all sorts of things the gods can make me suffer for after I die. I want to make sure they have all the right fucking reasons."

For others of the crew Puhezer Gryphik served as entertainment. He knew how to sing and he knew how to dance, and he knew how to tell the right stories at the right time in exactly the right manner. His ballads even Balwen enjoyed after mead. A certain passenger on the brig called Maihui was particularly invested in all stories the minstrel had to tell. Maihui had ten questions for every line in Bear's Gambit and a theorized answer to each. Maihui was a curious fellow.

Although not half as galling as Y'tra. The only woman on Guese Thazeon's crew. Ainar Mhaku had defined her as "more wildebeest than woman" and he was not off by much. The woman had an astoundingly chiseled face, a chest as flat as the deck, and a height to challenge giants. She taught Addie how to lubber the upper seams, never failing to pry in the bluntest of manners and in passing mutinous glances along.

It wasn't like Addie was oblivious to what the crew or passengers had to say behind her back. Half of them would want nothing better than to take her flesh raw and then toss her into the Shadneer. The other half would pay to see their companions do the exploit. She told herself that she mustn't lose her calm, it would not do to make enemies of them all. However, Addie did make a note to self to smack Gass's ass so hard the next time she caught him beating his meat to princess-like Disha that no other man would dare take out his cock in front of her without his balls turning liquid.

The Jen seemed indifferent to these whispers. The whispers weren't even whispers, really - at nighttime after drinking and olives and nuts, the sailors would outright express what they would like to do to Addie in lavish detail, punctuated by actions to make their point perfectly clear. They didn't speak of Disha the same way, for she had a man, or of Y'tra, for she was only a woman in saying, but Addie . . . now she wasn't taken, was she?

She had never needed anyone else, didn't expect she ever would. She must set an example, was what she told herself. She needed to, so that the rest of the journey would not be as much of a torment for her.

Then she got to know Wykson. He was the other Tehzvan on the ship, aside from Sadh Bornak. The grey of his hair and eyes was unique to their kindred.

"You like fishes?" She had approached him sitting on the bow, barefooted, bare-chested, smiling at the lively chromium darts lapping in the water.

"Yea, me'lady," he'd said, nonplussed. "I like everything like's to sailing, me'lady."

"Don't call me that." Addie had sat down besides him, and Wykson had sprung to his feet. "You can sit. I'm not Ichika, I won't bite." He didn't. "I promise."

He did, eyes on the water.

"What do you like about the sea?" she queried.

"Like's to everything. The smells of the sea, the colors of it. Cleaning the bilges, washing the chamberpots, all's and all's of it."

"You like washing chamberpots?"

"No, not like's as such as you think, me - sorry, what are you called?"

"Call me Addie. What are you called?"

"I'm Wykson. Casteless, like's not as you."

"I am Casteless too, Wykson."

Wykson rubbed his eyes the way an infant who had a witnessed a bloodbath might. "Truth's telling? Swear to Frunota, I thought you noble!"

Till five maes ago, he would have thought of her below a branded, Casteless slave. Affluent company changes people. Being seen as nobility, as peerage of any kind, scared her.

"I am as far from nobility as you get," Addie said, thinking of argonz parasols and seafoam banners. "But do tell me. What is it about cleaning latrines that you so enjoy, Wykson?"

"Aight. I don't like sponging chamberpots as such. I just like all's that comes with it. And one day I might be doing more. I went fishing with me father when I was seven. A wellef pulled me in, big's a carriage wheel. I nearabout died."

"What's a wellef?"

"You haven't seen one? Like's to a shark?"

"Can't say I've had the pleasure, but please, do continue."

"Woke up like's to a hospice and thought I was like's as dead. Water in me lungs, but the healer had sucked it out. I got so scared of the water, me'lady - Addie - that I wouldn't bathe. I got scared to drink it, thought it would choke me like's to finish what it had started. Me mother had to put tubs down on me head to get me clean. Oh, look at them go, like's shooting stars!"

Addie looked at the minnows to respect his enthusiasm. A larger fish with a frilled fin had joined them. "How did you get over your phobia then?"

"Me father tried to beat it outta me, course. Fishing's town, ours was. Couldn't live being afraid of the thing that paid for our clothes. So he drowned me again, on purpose this time's round."

"He drowned you?"

"Yea, me'lady, he drowned me. And he drowned me again when's I didn't swim up. And he drowned me again when's I screamed to be killed, and again when's I said I hated him."

"And eventually you learned to love the water."

Wykson frowned. His grey brows met at the epicenter of his forehead, while they already met his hair by the ear. "No, that's like's as crazy. In the end he drowned me and never pulled me up. Must've thought me a bloody wench. Sorry for the foul language, me'lady."

"You forget I am not a lady."

"Yea, Joost says I'm dumb's the donkeys bray. I forget crap all's the time."

Addie, who had grown to dislike the manner in which Joost Aklump treated his fellow crewmen, heartily disagreed. "You don't strike dumb to me, Wykson," she said.

Wykson grinned. She could only have described it as a disappointing grin; she had perhaps expected his teeth to be as grey as his hair or his eyes, or for the grin to light his face up like a beacon. It was only an ordinary grin.

"Thank's you, me'lady. Can I call you that any's way?"

"You can, I guess. And don't make your tongue go through the bother of restraining curses. I grew up amongst beggars and worst. Feel free to curse like a sailor . . . since you are one."

That disappointing grin, again. "Sailor, aye. Sailor sounds nice."

"That is what you are, Wykson."

"Joost just calls us Dumbasses, that's his name for us."

"Fuck Joost," Addie said. "I say you're a sailor, so you are."

Wykson's expression became guarded. "You shouldn't say that, me'lady. The wind has ears."

"And I have unshaved armpits, anything else? No? Good. Now will you care to tell me how you conquered your terror of water? I could use a lesson on that," she added as her stomach groaned.

"Yea, course. Me father left me to drown, but Captain picked me up. He does that, picks up boys like me and makes them men."

"You're saying Mhaku's a good man?"

Wykson put a fist on his bare chest. "The best, me'lady."

"He did make Joost his second in command, so either your perception of him comes from a foggy lens or Mhaku is as stupid as he is benevolent. Do continue, sailor boy."

"Nothing's much to it. He asked me if I knew how like's to swim. I didn't want to drop me chance of getting food and money, so I said yes. And that's it, me'lady. I knew's how to swim."

"I don't understand," said Addie, perplexed. "You told Mhaku you could swim to be welcomed as crew . . . and suddenly your fear was gone?"

"Like's mageic, yea."

Her heart jumped to her throat at the use of that word. She watched the minnows splash wantonly, silver, chromium, cyan.

"Little's a bit more to it than that, I'd say."

"Do tell."

"Well," Wykson began, appearing to be at a loss for words - a condition rare amongst men of sea. "Every time I saw water, which was all's the time, I pictured me father. His face, I mean. His face's more real than yours or anyone's else's to me, me'lady, I can see it still so clear. I pictured him and I cursed him and I told his face to suck a cock because I was a brave, brave man. And I was not afraid's of nothing, not water, no, I loved water. Water saved me life. It was me father who tried's to take it."

Addie had laughed. Wykson's story inspired her to channel her hatred towards the injustice in the world - towards mages, towards Casteless folk all - in order to stabilize her stomach and gird it for sea. It did not work. She decided to hate on the Shadows, for she remembered the poison that had filled her heart when she had seen them. It still did not work. She decided the hate must need a face, so she envisaged Thonwak every time her body threatened to retch up her gruel food . . . and it worked. Sea still did not agree with her digestion, she doubted it ever would, but her nerves didn't shake with every shout from Mhaku anymore for fear that Sink might live up to its name.

Once Addie had dreamed of swimming in the middle of an ocean. No longer, not after watching jets of piss become one with it in a contest to see whose stream shot farthest.

Nonetheless, Sink was objectively a good sailing vessel. Plentifully provisioned. No rats and no snails plagued it, thanks to a degree - and a surprising degree at that - of extent to Ichika the bird. She was as good at stealing wind off the sails as the brig was.

The other party that the ship harbored, of which curious Maihui was a member, was far more acclimated to the Shadneer. They were just as secretive as the Jen, so the two parties vindicated an unspoken mutual ignorance. When asked what their business in Nerba was, the Jen would retort with "what's yours in Baendol?" Questions asked themselves. Answers were shy. Addie had formulated a good guess on as to what the others' walk of life might be: who would sail the sea tight-lipped at such a time when war was on the brink of waging? Who but smugglers?

Her suspicions were confirmed when Gryphik revealed that Maihui, whom he had been unable to shake off his shoulder in spite of innumerable attempts, had let slip that him and his friends were transferring cargo which could not possibly be legal. Gryphik was certain it was drugs they were ferrying.

"Nay, it must be spices," Doin propounded when they were all gathered in a cabin later. "Or wheat, or barley. Chisteen's filled with pussies." At a glower from Disha he rectified himself: "What I mean by it is, they're not a fighting nation. But what they lack in brawn they make up for in brain . . . well, insofar as they can. They know war's coming. They'll need to feed their people when the east lays siege."

"Acquiring food," said the minstrel, "is not a crime. Acquiring drugs, on the other hand . . ."

"I can't help but feel like this is leading somewhere," said Doin. "My head is woozy with anticipation."

"That's just the booze from earlier kicking in," said Sadh.

"Booze." The smile on Gryphik's face, lit by the flickering lantern flames, looked verily mischievous. "Booze opens men up better than knives. And our Captain has a particularly strong affinity towards such indulgences."

"Go on before I grow old," quipped Doin.

"I am a storyteller -"

"As we have been reminded every chime," said Disha and Doin together.

"- and I like to tell my stories with virtue. In fact, when you combine these stories and my virtue with the aforementioned booze . . . the results yielded are greatly impressive. The Captain has many stories of his own to tell. To-day, after I was finished telling mine, I challenged others to narrate one better. Ainar Mhaku and his precious sparrow were practically jumping to tell of their own adventures."

Balwen grunted what sounded like "Amen to that" and summoned a steel glass to his hands. Wine was spilled and wine was gulped.

Gryphik went on. "Well, one of the voyagers named Edgaar wanted to share the Captain's glorious recital. In wanting to do so, he let slip that him and the Captain are old friends and have been on many voyages together. Dealt a-plenty. It did not take much pushing - or even any mageic - to get them to tell me of their most recent dealing."

"Which is?" asked Addie, piqued.

"Seeka falwem is a new substance in the market. Apparently they call it 'The Elixir.' From what I could make of the tellings of the Captain and his sparrow and his friend, it . . . enhances mageic."

"How do you mean?" Again it was her who imputed the question, but all in the cabin were roused now. The dwarf was rubbing his mane with both hands while the cup remained mid-air for him to sip from.

"I fear I could not quite understand the workings of the drug," related Gryphik. "But as far as I did grasp the hilt, it sounds like a dangerous thing. The Captain's friend was in the middle of narrating a story - fictitious or not, I do not know - in which an untrained Skiller who inhaled just one pinch of seeka was able to cave in a three-fold argonz wall."

It did indeed sound like a dangerous thing. Dangerous and enticing. Yet Addie could not help but wonder what it would feel like to have her Wolf fed, to have her reservoir transform into an ocean from a lake, all by the whiff of some strange powder particles that were jammed as cargo at the bilges under her . . .

"It is risky to speak of such matters at this time," Sadh muttered, and Addie thought of Gass peering in from the panel-slit. "We shall discuss this later. Let us be abed and hope the winds are as fervent as Disha's kisses."

"Wait," said Doin. "How does that comparison work for you - ?"

Disha said, "You joined the guild a year after us. A lot can happen in a year. And for mageic's sake, tiny man, hold the damn glass with your hands!"

Balwen grunted, and they all retreated to their respective cabins.

The next night saw Aeomar as a shining sickle plowing westwards in a carpet of stars. Addie lay on the deck, counting the stars in the white moon's wake. Mhaku was snoring in his hammock in company of charts and compasses while Joost inspected the skies beside him. Gryphik was went to bed with his songs, and most of the crew and passengers with him. Only Sadh reclined beside her.

"I spot a constellation," he said abruptly. "I hope I'm not disturbing your count."

"You already have," Addie conveyed. "Point it out."

He did. "There. That's Olla'mkan - that pentacle, see? Amongst the Abefans, it's known as the constellation of love."

Her gaze was pulled to his face. His were on the sky, and there was a star reflected in each.

"Do you think there's something the sky is hiding?" he said quietly. "Something above it?"

Addie frowned. "Above the sky? What could that be?"

"I don't know. Another world, maybe."

"Maybe. If there was, would not birds fly to it?"

" 'Fly too close to Belraed, and he will make of you what Ser Esper made of him. Only no one will remember the sound of your name.' " A smile bloomed on Sadh's face. His hand swaddled the conch-shell of his necklace. "From A Disparity in House Niyardele by Baran Ornoth."

"Well then, they could just fly when the sun isn't around."

"Valid point. Did you know Pardel is said to have the largest library on Heim? Books so many it takes ten lifetimes to count them. Have you ever been to it?"

"As you said, it's in Pardel. And under the King's legate. They would let no child of Charmat in."

"I thought you were good at sneaking."

"I am. But they don't let anybody in unless they have a signed permission from the legate."

"Which you could steal from a lord."

"Why take that risk," said Addie, "to get my hands on a bunch of books?"

"Only someone who cannot read would say that. Would you like me to teach you, Addie?"

"And much good it'll do me! I've made it this far in life without that acumen, I think I'll make it a bit farther. I know roughly three spoken languages, though - Master Harl was adamant I learn them."

"He sounds a nice man. I'm sorry for you loss."

"It's okay." It was.

"I know you've led a tough life," said Sadh sincerely. "It ought to be better once you join the Guild."

"I'm afraid," Addie admitted. "I'm afraid . . . I will not be accepted."

"Bullshit. Disha says you're the first magus she has ever encountered who practically oozes mageic. The minstrel agrees."

"Could you help me with my Skill?"

Sadh sounded astonished as he spoke, "I don't see what I could teach you. Your Master . . . didn't you train with him for a year?"

"Yes, but what if I fall short, what if it's not enough - "

"Addie. It will be enough." Then, after a contemplative pause, he said: "I could edify your Skill. But not here. Not on this ship. After."

"After," she repeated softly.

"You're going to have to learn how to read for me. As payment."

"You crafty son of a bitch."

"And learn how lettered women talk," Sadh added as an afterthought.

Addie tried to start her count of the stars again, but found she could not when Sadh's hand rested on her elbow. All of a sudden she became conscious of her thin, pale face and rough, straggly hair, a crest of which fell to her shoulder and no longer. Seasickness had taken away what the luxury at Stayback Inn had poured into her.

"Galore gospel . . . wherefore giddy green around the gills, your grace . . ."

Addie's eyes swung over to Disha strolling towards them with a coy smirk lauding her lips. Behind her, on the opposite gunwale, stood Wykson and the boy who had gotten welted in the face by Balwen. Both had wet cloths in their hands. The former looked the part of a dwarf against the leveled sea spread out behind him. The moon was split in his two grey eyes, eyes analogous to those of Sadh, and the rest of him was shrouded in shadows. He began rubbing the timber planks by the inchmeal.

Then Doin was there as well, wrapping his arm around his lover's waist, raining kisses up her neck.

"Cut that bulrush off your face," Disha said to him, eyes closed. "Feels like I'm being pecked by a broom."

Doin pretended to look affronted. With the amber stubble on his face, that only made him look absurd. "New girl. You tell me. Don't I look like a prince with this beard?"

"Don't call me new girl," said Addie.

"Well, you're hardly old."

"And that's hardly a beard."

Sadh cracked up at this and patted her elbow. She pulled her arm from his touch and gazed up at Olla'mkan. Even the constellation of love seemed to be winking salaciously at her.
Doin consulted his nails. "Jack and Tammy think facial hair looks quite good on me . . ."

"Dumbasses!" came Joost's voice. His was commanding unlike Mhaku's nasal one. Next he stomped out the wheelhouse to the binnacle with his steel-studded boots, waving hands. "Fire up the elephant no more!"

These nautical slangs were lost on Addie. By the looks on her fellow mages' faces, they did not understand any more than her. But the words that followed these out Joost's bastard throat made their meaning masterfully clear.

"Storm's coming!"

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," Sadh mumbled. "No pentacle would ever herald a storm."

But Wykson and the other boy were already running to inform the crew.

Again, a lot of editing required, I'm afraid

*sighs*

Did this part work as a chapter?