“—Got held up looking for a boat no one would miss, Captain.” Jendul was saying, Ninia only hearing the tail end of her sentence. Now, Ninia wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but this was too good to ignore, right? She stopped outside of Alinyaln’s cabin door. The Mercy was anchored on an uninhabited island between Loshbor and Siston, somewhere the crew could recoup from the attack the day before.

  “At least you returned, Jendul, I missed your assistance.” Captain Alinyaln said, his voice more muffled through the door than Jendul’s was. He must be watching out the rear window of the ship, Ninia thought to herself. There wasn’t much that way but empty ocean and the spirelike mountain of the Dead Hills.

  “Do you know why it happened, Captain?” Jendul asked, her voice harsh. “I wasn’t able to find out anything other than they said you had abducted Lady Syrin.”

  “That’s as much as we were able to figure out.” Alinyaln admitted. “I was hoping you would be able to provide some more insight, but I suppose not.” His voice sounded bitter, like he had just eaten something that didn’t suit him.

  “I was able to ask where the information had come from,” Jendul said in her lilting accent. “From their descriptions, there were about three people who originally spread the rumor to the locals. One description matched Yaskin.”

  “How is that possible when he’s been in the hold the entire time?” Alinyaln’s voice came more clearly to Ninia now, the Captain must have turned to face Jendul. “Higlim would have noticed he was gone as well, and I know Higlim to be true.”

  “I implied nothing, Captain.” Jendul said stiffly. “Honestly speaking, sir, he’s likely a better man than you deserve.”

  A faint chuckle came from Alinyaln. “You’re not wrong there, lass.” He said quietly. Then he sighed. “I don’t really feel the need to interrogate Yaskin again, but would you be willing to go back to Tusana to see what else you can find?"

  "Aye, Captain, but pardon me for saying, I don’t think there’s anything else to learn. Unless I could find who was spreading the information, there’s nothing I can do.”

  Alinyaln was silent for a moment. “Very well,” He said, “You’re dismissed for the day, Jendul.”

  Ninia started at this, realizing that her ear was pressed against the gap in the door jam in order to listen better. She quickly grabbed up her mop and dunked it in the water, splashing everywhere in the darkness of the midday moon.

  The door opened and Jendul stepped out, her eyes turning immediately to Ninia. Ninia flushed at the look, eyes down as she mopped the deck. “Funny,” Jendul said as she closed the door to the Captain’s cabin behind her. “The rest of the deck is completely dry, just not this spot.”

  “I—I was taking a break.” Ninia stammered, keeping her eyes down.

  “No you weren’t.”

  Ninia looked at Jendul, meeting her eyes, then she shrugged, the flush disappearing from her face. “You’re right, I wasn’t taking a break.” And she found that admitting it felt good, it made her feel far less guilt than the actual act had brought up in her. “I was listening in on you and the Captain."

  Jendul smiled at her. “I heard you on the other side of the door.” She said with a shrug. “Try to not touch the door so much next time you want to spy on someone.” Jendul clapped her on the shoulder then approached the central mast. She grabbed each side with her bare hands then shimmied up like some sort of animal, until she got to the top where the reached for the lip of the Gull’s Nest and climbed up.

  “So that’s how she does it.” Ninia said quietly. She had been trying to figure out Jendul’s secret for months now but hadn’t been able to determine what it was. Despite the lovely Syrin being aboard the Mercy somewhere, Ninia found that she still liked to watch Jendul as she worked, the lithe beauty of her sparking some amount of desire within Ninia. An odd feeling.

  Alinyaln exited his cabin and started at the sight of Ninia. “Lass.” He said, crossing his arms. “I thought I told ye to stay away from my cabin for a little while.”

  “Did you?” Ninia said, nonchalantly shrugging. “I thought you meant there was no need to mop inside.”

  The Captain’s gaze turned dark. “When have you ever mopped my cabin?” He asked her, unpleased with the response.

  “I haven’t,” Ninia said, “That’s why I thought it was a strange order…?” Her voice curled up slightly at the end, turning the sentence into more of a question.

  Captain Alinyaln scrutinized her for a moment, then sighed in resignation. “I can’t blame you much, I would have done the same.” He waved for Ninia to follow, making his way down into the belly of the ship.

  “What are we doing?” Ninia asked, following the Captain, leaving the mop on the deck. A Yishk would pick that up. Or likely, Ninia would pick it up later, as now they were only down to three Yishks.

  “Now that I have Jendul’s intel—what little of it there is—we need to discuss where we go from here.” Alinyaln’s tone was somber as he spoke.

  “What’s wrong, Captain?” Ninia asked, her step light behind his.

  “I… Nothing, lass.” Alinyaln said with a shrug, then entered the hold of the ship where Kiara, Syrin, Letno, Higlim, and—shockingly—Drags all sat around the table. Drags looked far more green than usual as he had only woken from his drunken stupor a couple of hours ago. He was slumped, head on his arm cradled in his hand, the whole thing supported by the table.

  Kiara sat with her arms cross, and Ninia could see veiled glances toward Alinyaln as he took a spot next to Syrin. Where had all of these chairs come from? Ninia took the spot next to Higlim and Drags, the cook patting her on the shoulder as she sat. “Ayo, Vinia, you look well.”

  “I feel well.” Ninia whispered back to him.

  “I’m not very good at these,” Alinyaln said loudly to the table, far louder than he truly needed to. Then he cleared his throat, the confidence returning to his voice, “We all know what happened, so let’s not dwell on that. Syrin, Letno, what did you two see before you blacked out?”

  Letno nearly fell out of her chair. Ninia hadn’t been paying attention to the Cloud Crafter but she could have sworn that Letno had just been asleep. “Yes, sir!” She said, standing up to salute.

  Kiara grabbed Letno on the shoulder and pulled the woman down. “The Captain asked you two what happened.”

  The woman’s eyebrows knitted together, then she looked at Alinyaln who was more or less sitting across from her. “We saw islands, Captain. Lots of little ones,” She specified, pinching her fingers in the air as if to demonstrate. “All around.”

  “It’s Siston.” Syrin said with a nod. “I saw the same thing, an aerial view of Siston, almost as if a map were brought to life.”

  “And why would Tyrnarm be in Siston?” Kiara asked confrontationally, sneering at Syrin. “If he’s transporting thousands of slaves, it’s unlikely he would go to the one place in the world that doesn’t use slaves.”

  “That’s an excellent point.” Alinyaln said, nodding to the First Mate. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “That’s the best that we could see, Lyn.” Syrin said with a shrug. “We only got a few moments before the Crafting broke.”

  “Can’t you try again?” Ninia asked, looking at the two Crafters.

  “We could,” Syrin said with a nod.

  “But there’s something wrong with Tyrnarm. Maybe.” Letno said, shaking her head then wincing. “Oof, can’t do that yet.” She began to rub her temples slowly.

  “Tyrnarm is being protected, somehow.” Syrin explained. “Once our Crafting got too close to him, we were disabled.”

  “Right when the mob attacked.” Kiara said with a nod. “Interesting how the timing of that worked out.”

  “If you’re trying to imply something, Kiara, just say it plainly.” Syrin finally met the woman’s glare with one of equal strength.

  “I just find it interesting,” Kiara stood up, pushing her chair back as she did so, “That as soon as your little Crafting failed there was a cursed mob ready to lynch us. For thinking we abducted you, by the way.”

  “And I find it interesting,” Syrin said, standing up as well, meeting Kiara’s gaze as they stood a few feet from each other, “How—from what I was told—you left the cabin shortly before the mob even arrived. Did you know it was coming?”

  “Of course I didn’t—”

  Ninia stopped listening to the argument due to a nudge from Higlim sitting to her left. “Want a sweet?” The cook whispered the word to her softly, though it was probably unnecessary with the raised voices. "It's caramel," Higlim clarified.

  Looking down, Ninia saw a cloth sack full of candies all with differently colored wrappings. It had been a long time since Ninia had been given anything resembling candy. She plucked one out of the bag that had a green wrapper around it, the candy inside was a deep brown, roughly shaped like a square it stuck to the paper causing it to tear as she pulled it off.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Ninia covertly popped it into her mouth, the caramel flavor was delightful. “Where did you get these?”

  “A man from Retin-Asnaln, bought them off of ‘im for a Gin back in Tusana.” Higlim whispered, putting one into his own mouth. “Not a bad price.”

  “Candy’s that expensive?” Ninia asked, looking at the bag of sweets. There were perhaps twenty candies in there, for a full eight Pieces. That seemed like a far steeper price than she could have imagined caramels being worth.

  Higlim shrugged. “Sugarcane is used for rum, a far more profitable market than sweets. They need to make their money somehow if they’re not using those resources for the rum.” He sucked on the caramel in his mouth. “Arsin supposedly makes the best sweets, lass.” Higlim whispered in her ear, far closer than she would have preferred as Ninia didn’t love human contact, but she could tolerate it for the moment since she trusted Higlim.

  Arsin, the so-called islandless Continent. Ships were fairly rare in that region as there were far fewer islands to sail to. Despite being called islandless, Ninia knew that wasn’t exactly true, but the need for even a Navy was supposedly minimal, so it would stand to reason that they needed less of the crystalline fuel source and could devote their supplies to other goods instead.

  The Captain stepped into the argument once Kiara started shouting, “Oi, enough!” Ninia wondered why he had just let the women argue this entire time. He stood up and forced himself between the two women, a tall figure amongst the two shorter ones.

  “Why don’t you just admit that you don’t trust me?” Syrin spoke over Alinyaln, shifting her body to where she can still see Kiara. Ninia saw what looked to be white mist falling from Syrin’s fingertips, small ice crystals forming from her hands. The effect was almost invisible, except for the contrast of the frost on her blue skin.

  “I never said I don’t trust you,” Kiara said, “I’m only stating the obvious, nothing had gone wrong until you showed up.”

  “First Mate Kiara that is enough!” Alinyaln barked, his face turning red in anger at being ignored.

  “Lyn, Sweetie, it’s nice of you to try and protect me from your blue haired pet, but—”

  “Have you seen yourself?” Kiara retorted. “My hair color is normal, I didn’t come by it from some accident and turn myself into a freak.”

  Drags was now standing, slowly making his way around the table toward the arguing pair.

  “Kiara you will stand down now or you will be detained in your quarters until evening!” Alinyaln ordered, holding his finger in Kiara’s face.

  “You will not speak to me like that.” Kiara nearly whispered in response to Alinyaln, her pale complexion far redder than the Captain’s own.

  Alinyaln hesitated, looking as if he were going to back down. “Drags.” He said, then nodded toward Kiara.

  The Dragonkin who had made his way behind her wrapped an arm around her from behind, firm but not crushing. The stream of swearing that spewed from the woman was profound, some might even say holy, accompanied by flailing and hitting that normal men wouldn’t have been able to withstand. “Please escort Kiara to her quarters and keep her there until she cools down."

  “Ya know,” A cold voice came from the holding cell just off to the side of the hold, “This wouldn’t’ve happened if ye kept a better eye on yer crew.” Ninia turned around to see Yaskin sitting slumped against the bars of the hold. Ninia hadn’t seen him in days and he looked awful, bandadges covered with old blood, the bruises he had sustained were now that unfortunate yellow color. Not that she felt bad about his suffering, of course.

  “Wait!” Ninia shouted, standing up as an idea came to her. “Everyone just wait!”

  And, remarkably, they did, even Kiara looked over at Ninia, her tantrum pausing as she glared over at Ninia. Closing her eyes, Ninia took in a deep breath. She opened her eyes again and met all of their gazes in turn, excluding Yaskin. “Letno,” She asked, specifically looking to the woman that hadn’t been a part of the argument. “Can Cloud Crafting affect someone’s mind?”

  Letno, who had been more than enamored with the argument, was now dozing as the entertainment ended. A clap and a repeat of the question from Alinyaln got her attention again. “I think, yes?” She looked as if she were going to shake her head, then reconsidered and gave a half-hearted shrug. “It’s not something I’ve ever heard of.”

  “Isss not possible.” A new voice broke in, words heavily slurred. Timphinny staggered into sight, rubbing his head. “Damn women,” He said, “Causing such a ruckus.”

  “Phinny,” Alinyaln said with surprise. “What are you doing awake?”

  “Not like I can sleep when—hic—those damn women were howling at each other, I sleep just over there.” Timphinny pointed back behind him, arm waving wildly as he did so, but missing the actual spot where he slept in the movement.

  “You know something of Cloud Crafting?” Ninia asked him, curious to hear his answer.

  “Aye,” He looked to her, eyes bloodshot. “’m prolly the weakest Crafter to ever live, but aye.” Phinny looked over at Alinyaln, eyes focusing on the Captain. “Crafting cannot influence people’s minds so directly, Captain.”

  “I suggested it.” Ninia interjected.

  Timphinny glared at her. “I know you did, fool girl.” His words were coming out more clearly now, as if he were focusing more completely on the forming them now. “Hell, can’t even tell me Captain somethin’ without some slip of a girl butting in.”

  Ninia returned the glare, outraged at the insult. She was about to respond when Higlim gripped her by the shoulder, shushing her with a finger over his lips. “Ye’ve done enough, lass.” He said to her quietly, giving her a sad smile.

  “Hold on,” Kiara said, looking at Phinny then back at the Captain. “If you’re a crafter as well, why didn’t you join in their spell? You might have broken through whatever protection there was on it.”

  “Ye missed the part where I said ‘weakest Crafter to ever live.’” Timphinny said, slumping into one of the now vacant chairs. “Oh, thas noice.” He said, a relieved expression crossing his face. “Anyway, my power wouldn’t have added anything to it. Technically I might have made it even worse, if the math is to be believed.”

  “Then, do you have a suggestion as to why this whole exchange even started?” Alinyaln asked, crossing his arms before him.

  Timphinny nodded. “Ever wonder where the swear ‘cur-said’ comes from?” He put strong emphasis on the two syllables in the word.

  “I can’t say I have.” Alinyaln said, and even Syrin shook her head at the drunkard.

  “Long time ago, ‘pparently when the Triplets were still around, a new God arose to destroy the world.” Timphinny said, voice even clearer now and Ninia could see that his eyes were less bloodshot. “A God of misery and pain, to oppose Yanuan of the Land, Panuan of the Seas, and Manuan of the Winds.”

  “Orsin.” Letno said with a nod. “Supposed God of the Orsinum.”

  Timphinny waved to Letno tiredly. “Aye, the same. He was defeated by the Triplets, but fragments of his power remained, power that was said to be able to influence the hearts and minds of men. Oftentimes, those men were called ‘cursed.’ Over the years we naturally changed the inflection of the word and erased the meaning of it.”

  “You’re saying Syrin and Kiara were under some sort of pagan magic? A ‘curse?’” Ninia asked the drunkard. The thought was absurd, especially since she herself was even unsure about whether or not she believed in the Triplets. Their Gifts don’t need to come from some deity, holy and unknown to mortals.

  “I’m jus’ saying that there is a way, if the stories can be believed.” Timphinny said with a shrug.

  “I feel fine.” Kiara snapped.

  “As do I.” Syrin agreed. Now that her temper must have cooled, the frost on her hands melted into water which she absentmindedly wiped on her dress.

  Alinyaln looked Syrin directly in the eyes, then did the same to Kiara. Then he shook his head. “Is there any way to know for sure? Or any way to fix them?”

  Timphinny burped into his fist. “No, not that I know.”

  Higlim spoke up this time, the first time in the entire meeting, “Of course ye feel fine.” He said. “It’s not like someone’s controlling you, puppeting you around on strings like some two-Gin whore high on xaris.” He tapped his forehead with his gnarled hand. “It only made you speak your minds more freely. Nothing untrue was said, as far as I know.”

  Alinyaln nodded at this, then turned to Drags. “You can put her down, Drags.”

  The Dragonkin huffed in consent and dropped the woman who then staggered but remained on her feet. “Cursed man.” She muttered, then tilted her head as if unsure about using the word “cursed” anymore.

  “I think Timphinny and Higlim are correct.” Syrin said, looking off into space. “In a way, at least. I certainly feel freer with my thoughts, and it’s taking a lot of self-control to not act.” She looked up at Alinyaln. “Cursed.”

  “How did this happen, then?” Alinyaln looked at Timphinny.

  “Could’a been from the Crafting? Opening up Syrin to attack from some external force.”

  “Then why wasn’t I cursed?” Letno asked in a tone that sounded all too disappointed. Ninia noticed that the cut the woman had sustained to her fingertip seemed to be completely healed, no bandage or wound visible.

  “And how could I have been?” Kiara asked, crossing her arms again. “I can’t Craft.”

  Alinyaln shook his head. “There’s no point in speculating now.” He said with a sigh. “You all really bungled this whole meeting up, didn’t you?” The Captain dropped into his own chair again, exhausted.

  “Want some?” Timphinny asked, proffering a bottle of dark rum to the Captain. Where had that come from?

  Alinyaln looked down at it, then at Phinny. “Not today, no.” He nodded to himself. “Kiara, go abovedecks and set a course for Siston. Once we’re ready, everyone who’s willing can come down for the funeral.”

  Ninia looked around until she saw a figure lying off to the side on the floor of the deck, white sheet draped over the body. The Yishk that fell during the attack. Ninia hadn’t noticed the corpse there until just now.

  “Aye, Captain.” A chorus of voices rang out, then everyone simply left.