Black Sun (Between Earth and Sky, #1)(32)
“Smooth sailing across the Crescent Sea! A story to tell,” Poloc said, a note of awe in his voice.
“Our captain can do it,” Callo agreed, which made Xiala blink in surprise.
“We’ll be legendary!” That was Baat.
Xiala exhaled, but her shoulders stayed tense around her ears, and she folded her hands behind her back to hide the fact that they were shaking. Callo’s support had been unexpected but gratifying, and the way the other men had fallen in line behind him was both good and bad. Good on this day because it went in her favor, but she wondered what would happen if she and Callo came to differences. Which way would the crew split? A shudder of foreboding rolled across her already tense shoulders. She hoped she never had to find out.
“Teek!” Loob shouted. “Teek! Teek!” And then someone else joined him. And then Callo and Poloc and Patu and Baat, too, until everyone was chanting, “Teek! Teek! Teek!” like her heritage was a talisman that would keep them all alive. Dread curled in her belly, knowing it was her own fault for suggesting the truth in their superstition. Part of her regretted it, but another part exulted in their acceptance, no matter how precarious.
“The crossing will be hard, but my Song will get us there safely. And, as Callo said, we might see wonders.” She looked at Baat. “Become legends.”
“Tail to tip, straight across to the Tovasheh river in nineteen days!” Loob marveled.
“Sixteen,” Xiala corrected. “It’s three days upriver, so that gives us sixteen days to reach the river mouth.”
Stunned silence, and for a moment she thought she might have lost them. But Baat yelled, “All hells, we’ll make it in ten!”
“Nine!”
“Seven!”
“We’ll be there tomorrow by supper!”
And then they were laughing and passing the balché around again.
Xiala motioned Callo over. He came, plaintive eyes wary.
“My thanks, Callo.”
He shrugged. “I meant it enough. And I need the pay.” He looked down. “And it’s not a lie I told, is it? You’ll get us there, Teek.”
She bristled at the name but only nodded. Nothing but confidence would do now.
“Make sure the balché runs dry in another half hour whether the barrel is empty or not. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow, and they’ll need their stamina. There’s a freshwater chultun not too far in on the mainland.”
“I know it,” Callo said.
“Send two of your most sober men to fill as many water pots as they can.”
“And firewood? There wasn’t much here to gather.”
“No wood. We’ll only eat cold and burn resin on the open water.”
“Aye.”
“I’ll stay with the ship tonight. You stay here bunked with the crew, enjoy land while it’s under your feet.” She cared little for a few extra hours on land, but sleeping on the ship had a more practical purpose. A drink and meal shared was good leadership, but she was still a woman and the only woman among two dozen men. She was a hedonist at heart, never shy about loving men or women or any other gender, but she drew the line with her crew. She had a rule to never mix business with pleasure, and it served her well. Best to sleep on the ship to avoid even the hint of availability. Besides, she liked the gentle rocking of the waves under her head. She worried about Callo forming a stronger bond with the crew in her absence, but that could not be helped. She would have to trust her first mate.
“All right. Then up before dawn tomorrow, and we— Callo?”
Her first mate’s face had gone pale in the firelight, eyes huge and staring at something behind her shoulder. Her senses prickled in alarm. The voices of the crew quieted. And she turned to see what stood between her and her ship.
CHAPTER 12
THE CRESCENT SEA
YEAR 325 OF THE SUN
(20 DAYS BEFORE CONVERGENCE)
Crows are highly sociable creatures. They form family units with mothers and fathers and even siblings. I have seen the solitary crow, but even they might gather with another to look for food or ward off a predator. I once saw a crow befriend a kitten and protect it with its own life.
—From Observations on Crows, by Saaya, age thirteen
The distant sounds of voices and laughter called to him. The crew had been a constant companion throughout the day, the measured count of their strokes a meditation, the bawdy songs they sang to keep rhythm as they sliced through the waters his entertainment. It was a pleasant way to pass time, something new and unusual.
He was used to spending most of his time alone, but that did not mean that once he had the choice of joining the others, he did not want it, it did not beckon. And then he heard them chanting “Teek! Teek!” and his curiosity got the best of him.
He thought to call on his crows and let them tell him what there was to see, but the truth was that a secondhand experience would not be satisfying. He wanted to know what was beyond this small room—put shape and size and person to the sailors’ voices, and to the ocean and the island, and especially to the Teek woman, the captain.
He stood and smoothed the wrinkles from his robe. He had not removed his boots or any other item of clothing, save the strip of black cloth he wore tied around his eyes. He didn’t need it, of course. The flesh of his eyelids had long ago sealed shut like a healed wound around the gut his mother had threaded through them a decade ago, but covering his eyes seemed to comfort others, so for their sake he wore it.