Chương 57: 5 The Winter Maiden

I pulled the strap of my pack tight across my shoulder, glancing up as we passed The Winter Maiden. My step faltered. A new figurehead decorated her bow—a dwarven woman carved in wood, thrusting a single hand forward. Sculpted ice crystals gathered in her palm. It was her, her features captured in hyperrealistic workmanship—Ingred.

"Captain?" Needles asked, glancing up. Following my gaze, he went silent. I cleared my throat, pulled on my shoulder strap, and carried on. Paradisian sailors crowded the docks, loading crates and supplies. A man nodded to us as we approached the gangplank. Two bridges connected the Winter Maiden to the dock. One angled up sharply to the main deck. The other one stretched directly across to an open, watertight hatch lower on the hull. We took the one to the top. That was more traditional.

The moment my boot touched the deck, I blinked in surprise. A rank of Marines lined either side of the walkway. Naomi and Bianca waited at the end of the procession, Lieutenant Elara Stormsong at their side. Last time I saw the half-Orc marine, she'd been in mourning drab at Ingred's funeral; now she wore the navy blue jacket and white pants of the Paradise Marine Corps, with a stiff collar and polished brass buttons.

"Platoon, Atten-tion!" A unified thump snapped across the deck as heels clicked together. Rifles locked vertically at the marines' right sides, buttstocks planted hard against the planks. Not a single one looked at me, but kept their eyes fixed ahead in a thousand-yard stare. Sticky, toxic warmth stirred within. This was exactly the type of ceremony that could trigger my Apex Pride trait. My spine lengthened, and I strode forward. Needles and Drogo, more familiar with Paradise sailing, didn't give the men any head.

Othess studied the first few suspiciously before deciding this wasn't a trap. Finally, my Kobolds scrambled aboard, Dustnose and Clod taking the lead. The little guys gawked at the ceremony before lifting their chests high, like they were the incoming magistrates of a new island colony. I stopped before the girls. Elara snapped to attention and saluted. My return salute was automatic.

"Lieutenant—" No, that wasn't right. I eyed the twin epaulets on her shoulders, fringed with brass, and the bicorn on her head.

"Captain, Stormsong," I corrected.

"Congratulations." She dropped her hand.

"Welcome back, sir." I kept my face impassive, but that, sir, rubbed me wrong. We'd been peers before, on a first-name basis. Something had changed, and I suspected it didn't have anything to do with her promotion.

"Pleasure to have you back, sir," Felipe Moreno said, stepping up to her side. The white sash of a non-commissioned officer slung neatly across his shoulder. He grinned easily, his shock of white hair swept back with the brown. My brow arched as I studied the three chevrons and single rocker on his sleeve.

"Color Sergeant—" I said with a sharp nod.

"Everyone's coming up in the world."

"Happy side effect of saving the world—sir." I waved a hand.

"Please, this 'sir' stuff is unnecessary. I'm here as a passenger." He shrugged.

"Got more men now. I need to show a good example." Roland snorted, bald dome covered by a short shako.

"Sergeant?" I asked in surprise, nodding at his sash.

"Did everyone catch a promotion while I was gone?"

"Everyone who stuck around," Elara murmured, almost too softly to hear. My spine went rigid. I deserved that.

"Time for a tour?" Naomi asked, breaking the silence.

"Can someone get my men situated?" I asked. Roland nodded.

"If you lot would follow me, I'll show you your hammocks." I followed Naomi and Bianca up to the quarterdeck. I hadn't recognized the Black Chain from far away; that was doubly true now that I walked on her planks. Rather than a gang of slavers in mixed travel leathers and sailing shirts, seamen swarmed the decks in Paradise blue. Fresh lacquer sealed the fresh paint, glossy and clean. The new white sailcloth wrapped tightly around the yard showed no signs of wear.

Bolts, formerly used to secure slaves in need of discipline to the deck, had been removed, their scars filled and sanded smooth. Bianca leaned over the rail.

"As you can see, we've been making some updates."

"That's quite the crew," I observed.

"Feels like the first time you haven't been operating with bare bones." I eyed the three masts, imagining the thrust they'd generate when full. My previous trip on the Black Chain had all occurred from within her brig. I itched to see how she performed from above.

"Two hundred and fifty sailors, thirty marines. Thirty-eight guns," Bianca said.

"That includes the kisses."

"The kisses?" I asked, head tilting. She motioned to the four massive guns on the bow.

"Let me get this straight," I said, the edges of my lips twitching up.

"You've decided to call the forward siege class rotational mortars the kisses?"

"Well, the crew calls them the maiden's kiss." Bianca shrugged.

"After a while, they just became the kisses." I pinched the bridge of my nose, grinning as I turned to take them in.

"Those aren't any kiss I care to experience."

"Arcane deck's under construction," Naomi said, motioning to the elevated platform at the very back of the quarterdeck.

"We don't exactly have a Mage, but we're having it configured to tolerate psionics."

"No Mage?" I asked in surprise.

"What about this new guy?"

"Corin," Naomi said, a little quicker than I preferred.

"He's not a Mage?"

"A Physic," Bianca said.

"A Physic?" I glanced at her.

"We already have a shifter."

"He's not a shifter," Bianca said, motioning toward the bow.

"Closer to a monk." I followed her gaze to where a shirtless primord lay in a planch. His whole body lay perfectly parallel, stacked over his palms and elbows. Lean muscle swam beneath yellow-green skin. With no discernible effort, his feet went skyward, shifting into a handstand. Bianca and Naomi watched, clearly impressed. I sniffed. Didn't look too hard to me.

"Do you have talking tubes?" I asked, recalling the addition I'd made to the Ash Zephyr before crashing her into a dam.

"I've been dumping feat points into an ability that would let me turn this ship into a scary accurate threat if I could just communicate instantaneously with the gunners."

"Careful, Tony," Naomi warned.

"Modifications to our ship? You're starting to sound like a permanent party member already."

"Just something that could help," I mumbled. Someone cleared their throat loudly behind me, and I shifted. A Coredwarf in a bicorn and Paradise blue stood with his fists planted firmly on his hips. His marbled grey skin spoke of his elemental ancestry, and two stubby horns protruded from his brow, each trailing smoke.

"Lad," he said with a terse nod. My lips pressed into a tight line, my right hand cramping as it remembered the handle of the lash.

"Hello Bebi."

"Welcome home." My eye twitched.

"I'll only be joining you for a short while," I corrected.

"Shame," he said.

"We've saved a cabin for you."

"You have full cabins?" I asked, surprised.

"After pulling out the slaver's hardware, we had plenty of room." Naomi shrugged.

"Don't get too excited; it's a little more than a cot in a closet."

"Master gunner," I said, nodding.

"Looks good on you."

"The rank's a formality," he grunted, tugging at his collar uncomfortably.

"I've got years of training before I'll have earned the rank. I'm still training."

"Well, if you're training, I was wondering if you'd do me a favor?"

"Oh?"

"I brought six Kobolds with me. They were my gunners on the Ash Zephyr. They've been itching to go hands-on with some artillery for weeks."

"Kobolds," his face told me exactly what he thought of that.

"And you want to give them access to the magazine?"

"Magazine? Maybe. Could you—" I organized my thoughts.

"Could you assign them a small gun? A deckside swivelpiece would be fine. They can get mischievous when they're idle. Giving them a responsibility really is the best way to get them out of trouble." Bebi stoked his beard.

"Let'em shoot it a few times, then have 'em on cleaning duty?" This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Perfect," I said.

"And if you're ever running drills, I'd appreciate it if you could include them in the circuit."

"Oh, this will be interesting," Bebi said, arms folded tightly over his chest.

"Yeah, I'll make proper gunners out of 'em."

"Thanks, Bebi." He saluted Naomi.

"Mum." Then he hit an about-face and started away.

"Bebi!" I called after him. He paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

"Thank you." I wasn't talking about the stuff with the Kobolds. My hand flexed again, the scar on my wrist aching. He nodded once. He understood.

"Well," Bianca said.

"Shall we?"

"Clear the gangplanks!" Naomi barked.

"Seal the hatch!" Sailors rushed to command. I found my head bobbing in approval. She wore the tricorn well.

"Crews to stations!" A thought pressed into my mind as the deck buzzed.

"This is a lot of crew and firepower for a party of Cousins less than three months on the job." Bianca's lips tightened.

"The corps has been getting hit. Bloodwake cells have been targeting us." She grimaced.

"More resources for us lower levels these days." Only we weren't exactly amateurs. Sure, we'd only been active for a short while, but we'd been busy.

"Stand by to cast off!" Naomi called. Seasoned sailors reacted to her commands with proficiency.

"Cast off forward. Cast off aft." The mooring lines flicked off the cleats, men reeling them up the side. Naomi turned toward me.

"Care to take us out?" she asked, nodding to the helm. Polished lacquer gleamed over white paint with blue accents on the wheel. I knew what this was the second I saw it—a bribe. Bait on a trap, custom-selected to reel me in. My fingers reached for it before I had made the conscious choice. Naomi knew me.

"If you insist," I mumbled, but my heart soared. I'd never been behind the wheel of something that size.

"Stand by to make sail!" Naomi called. Like spiders, crewmen climbed rigging, untying gaskets.

"Loose fore and main." The loose flutter of roping canvas whipped through the air; men caught the lines and trimmed the sheets.

"Man, the braces. Starboard tack!" Sailors on the deck caught hold of the lines and heaved. The horizontal posts creaked as they angled into the wind, and the sails filled. I grinned as we caught up the air, harnessing her power to dominate the sea. My hands tightened around the handles of the helm. Naomi smiled.

"Helmsman. Four degrees starboard." I adjusted, and the Winter Maiden pulled away from Raft Town. A bobbing red needle floating in a solution shifted, pointing north—pointing toward Paradise. All compasses pointed home—that's what Paradisian mothers told their children. I gazed up at the holes and the crack in the sky; as of late, they had become a better navigational point.

Stars and the sun moved throughout the day, but the breaches remained fixed as if the celestial features were mere projections on a cracked glass canvas. The deck swayed beneath my feet, and I became one with the ship, its beating heart. Wind whipped in my face. Air, my dear friend.

"Looks good on you," Naomi said, arms folded. My smile melted. I saw what she was doing, but I'd already made up my mind. I stepped back and offered the wheel to an official helmsman.

"Your ship's really great, Captain," I said.

"You'll do great things with her." Naomi watched me for a long moment, then nodded.

"I should introduce you to Corin." I glanced over to the Aqua-Primord who now balanced on the deck with one hand. His legs splayed wide above him as they counterbalanced the ship's motion.

"He didn't come to introduce himself," I noticed.

"That would be appropriate," Naomi said. Then she smirked.

"If you were part of the crew." I snorted, waving her away.

"I'll go say hi to Fishboy."

"Tony, don't be a boy." My brow climbed.

"What in the World Archipelago do you mean?" She shrugged, smirking.

"You know—when you're around other men, you butt heads." I scoffed, scandalized.

"Rude." I glanced at Bianca, hoping for backup. She just shrugged apologetically. Ridiculous. I hiked down the quarterdeck steps, mumbling under my breath. Corin shifted his posture, bringing himself into a forty-five-degree angle. His nose hovered inches off the ground, feet angled up above him. If not for the perspiration running down the bridge of his nose, there would have been no sign of exertion. I stopped a few paces off from him.

"Hey," I said simply. He didn't answer. I waited. He exhaled long and slow, then extended back into a full handstand.

"Guess I'll come back later," I murmured, stepping back. Corin pulled out of his handstand, coming lightly to his feet.

"Hello, Antonio," he said. His accent was all education and high blood.

"Oh," I said.

"Hey, I'm Tony—""Yes," he said.

"I know." I cleared my throat. Right.

"Sorry. Stupid of me to introduce myself if you already know who I am." He watched me for a frustratingly long moment.

"I know many things about you, Antonio Marco Moretti."

"Yeah?" I folded my arms.

"What do you know?" He plucked up his loose cotton shirt, slowly buttoning it as he spoke.

"I know you're Puppetmaster's son. You're a half-decent swordsman and a respectable helmsman. You are self-destructive. You struggle with the bigger picture. You act before you understand." Heat shot through my face.

"Yeah? And you're so much better than me, are you?" I scanned his terminal. <<Name: Corin Saltwind>> <<Race: Aqua-Primord>> <<Class: Conduit Vanguard>> <<Rank: Paradise Cousin>> <<Lvl: User-8; Physic-5>> <<Total: 13>> <<Stats: >> Might (STR) — 8 Will (WIS) — 7 Focus (INT) — 7 Resilience (CON) — 8 Grace (DEX) — 9 Cunning (CHA) — 6 I hesitated.

"Why so many levels in the User? We can use your massive inventory to pack supplies, I guess." He grinned, and my HUD flickered, the notification over his head changing.

<<Name: Antonio's Father>> <<Race: Supergod>> <<Class: Something Cooler than Antonio >> <<Rank: Supreme Ruler of the World Archipelago>> <<Lvl: User-100, 000, 000; Physic-100, 000, 000>> <<Total: ∞>> <<Stats: >> Might (STR) — 50 Will (WIS) — 50 Focus (INT) — 50 Resilience (CON) — 50 Grace (DEX) — 50 Cunning (CHA) — 50"You know," he mused, "far too many people underestimate the User class. When facing hackers and Exploits, meta combatives is a must."

"Amusing," I said.

"You can change your stats. Thanks, but I can deal with Exploits well enough on my own."

"Can you?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"As it happens, I've hunted down seven Exploits in the last month."

"Including Red Barker?" Corin asked.

"Yeah." Corin sighed, rubbing his brow.

"Antonio, Red Barker was a Paradise informant. Congratulations, you killed one of your own." I didn't move. The deck tilted under me, though the sea lay calm.

"That is why coordination matters. You are effective. But effectiveness is not a strategy." I didn't answer. Of course, Naomi liked this guy; he was as aristocratic as they came.

"What, are you some sort of magistrate's son?"

"Fortunately for you, I don't measure people by their parentage," Corin said, clasping his hands behind his back. My eye twitched.

"No, I'm not anyone important," Corin said, stiff-backed, nose tilted up.

"I grew up on Submarinar. My father's a sergeant in the Deep Guard, and my mother farms kelp." He gave a small, controlled shrug.

"We can't all have fathers on sovereigns' right hands." My lips peeled back from my teeth.

"Insufferable twat."

"You're right." He placed a hand on his chest and bowed.

"That was uncalled for. I apologize." The ship seemed to tilt beneath me. I steadied myself on instinct.

"I know I can count on Naomi in a scrap," I said.

"Bianca, too. How do I know you've got my back?" His lip twitched up as he read my intentions.

"Perhaps an evaluation?" I cracked my neck.

"Yup, that's exactly what I'm thinking." He bowed halfway.

"It would be my pleasure. What are your conditions?" I shrugged.

"Incapacitation or submission." He faced me head-on.

"This should be interesting."

"Does anyone have a foil?" I asked, glancing around and finally realizing the amount of attention we had attracted.

"Shouldn't be necessary," Corin said.

"You won't be touching me." It was time to teach some humility. My cutlass blinked into my hand—and I locked up. No, I couldn't use a live blade against a friend. Not again.

"A foil!" A sailor disappeared below. Naomi and Bianca watched from the quarterdeck, leaning over the rail. I couldn't make out their smirks from here, but I felt them. Minutes later, the runner returned with a blunted training blade. I took it, giving it an experimental swish. Corin took a fighting stance.

"Ready?" He nodded. I sprinted forward, boots thumping on wood. Two rolled-up sheets appeared in his hands, and he snapped them both forward like rolled-up carpets. They uncoiled, exposing black iron caltrops sewn into the fabric. I leaped, yelping as I nearly planted a foot right on a spike. I came down with even more force, skipping off an Air Step as I launched myself sideways.

"That's new," Corin said simply. I bounded toward him on invisible wind platforms. He leaped back, throwing up his hands. A full doorway appeared right in front of me, deployed directly from his inventory. A web glistened in the frame, sticky with adhesive. I cried out, kicking off empty space. My momentum rebounded, and I fell back. Corin didn't wait for me to hit the ground. He threw his hand up, and a device winked above me. The contraption shrieked, bars unfolding as they snapped outward.

I dropped low as the modular cage slammed down around me with a crash. A saber winked into my right hand, the blade ignited with white light as I activated Empowered Windmill Form, and I sheared. Bars clattered to the ground around me and I dove free.

"A lot of tricks!" I barked.

"Not a lot of bite!" I dismissed my saber. Corin smirked. <<System Notice: Antonio is Distracted>> The notification flashed in big red letters. Then another identical alert, then another. Hundreds of notices flashed, crowding over each other and flooding my vision. I reeled, effectively blinded. Then I dropped the display altogether. A yellow fist slammed into my face, rocking my head back. I tumbled backward. Corin flowed behind me, smooth as water. He pulled my arm and swept my leg.

The world blurred as I crashed onto the deck. He was on me before I could react, my arm locked out over his knee. The cold kiss of steel pressed against my throat.

"Does this count as incapacitation?" He asked. He pulled himself off, revealing the blade to be a flat handled, wavy axe, all one smooth piece of steel.

"I'll admit you did better than I expected, Antonio. But you have a lot to learn about Meta combat." I groaned, covering my eyes to the snickering of sailors. Maybe I'd just jump off and swim to Fel Rock. I had a new Party member. I hated him already. <<Time to Seal Collapse: 02: 01: 02: 09: 23: 59>>