Chapter 29: Greener Pastures

“One time, the Golden Son was in the Concord. He heard o’ a man in Elandra speaking badly on his name. So he drew his piece, measured up for a full minute, and fired once into the air. Three days later, there were news that same man done dropped dead, single shot to the head. No one speaks badly o’ the Golden Son anymore. No one.”

-Captain List, 186 U.E.

Quintilla nursed her wounded hand, seated behind her desk. It would never be the same, even if she chose to get delicate biomech prosthetics. But she wouldn’t. A few missing fingers would serve as an apt reminder of her folly.

The afternoon sun shone in through the windows behind her. They were hours out from Dead Echo, having halted to a hover while they discussed their next move.

“State of the ship?” she asked.

“She’s not happy,” Kazzul said, leaned against a wall. He chewed on a piece of dried jerky. “And she’ll need a serious overhaul the minute we return to port.”

“Will she hold?”

Kazzul nodded. “She’ll hold, long as we don’t put her through anything extreme. So let’s not attack any more warships, yeah?”

“Noted.” She turned to her sister, who was fidgeting with her lip. “Will you be able to keep your… companions steady until we’re back in Tumba? Not tear anyone’s head off, like. I’m assuming the idea of tossing them overboard is out of the question for you.”

Taira’s two pet kithraxi lingered behind her, peeking past her legs like children hiding behind mother’s skirt. She had replaced their red sashes with blue ones, stitched together from an old blanket.

Stephan put a hand on Taira’s shoulder. She took a deep breath and raised her chin, stood a little taller.

“We will not be throwing them overboard,” she said. “Nor will we be relinquishing them once we return to Tumba. They wish to serve on the crew.”

Quintilla laughed. Torch giggled. No one else seemed to find it funny. She sighed and rubbed her nose, realizing this needed a gentler touch. “Listen, Taira. These things did us a good turn back on Dead Echo, no one’s denying that. But they’re not crew, and I think you know that too. They’re violent. Likely to cause harm sooner rather than later. It’s my duty, not only as your sister, but as your captain, to prevent that.”

“They’re not things. They have names.”

“Really? You named them?”

“They named themselves. Shzkh and Gkhzj.”

Quintilla frowned deeply. “No one could pronounce that.”

“It doesn’t matter. They have names. They are people. And they are my friends. They stay on this crew.”

Quintilla leaned forward in her chair. “Or what?” The words came out sharper than she’d intended.

“Or I’m leaving.”

Silence.

Quintilla didn’t know how to respond to that. She stared at her sister until she realized that something like a minute had passed and no one was talking.

“You’re joking,” she said.

Taira shook her head. “No.”

“If you got off this ship, I’d never let you back on.”

“I know. So don’t make me choose.”

Quintilla slumped back, hands dangling over the armrests. “I suppose they stay, then. Welcome, Shask and Gokaj, to the crew.” She made a lazy flourish with her right hand. “Happy now?”

“Happy,” Taira said.

“Make sure they keep busy. If they hurt anyone, they’re out, got it?”

“Got it. They will make excellent mechanics. Their bodies excrete an adhesive substance strong enough to bond metal together.”

“It seems they’ve done some work on the hull already,” Kazzul said. “Impressive stuff, really. I don’t mind having them on the ship, long as they keep shaving work off my end.”

“I see,” Quintilla said. “It’s settled, then. I want everyone to take a bit to rest up before we head to the meeting point with Dryden.”

The crew nodded and muttered their assent. She dismissed them, and they began to shuffle out of her cabin.

“Especially you, Kurko!” she called after the bandage-wrapped first mate. Even med-patches hadn’t been able to undo the wounds caused by the demon, those twisted runes above all. Without a doctor, it was impossible to tell what kind of effects he would be left with, especially as Kurko refused to detail what kind of pain he was in. She was fairly certain it would plague him for some time. Months. Years. Maybe he’d carry those damned runes to his grave.

Kurko turned back for a moment, nodded, and carried on. For a moment, Quintilla thought she could see a faint smile tracing his lips.

Valeria’s tits, he really is lovesick, she thought.

*****

Stephan sat on the bed in Taira’s cabin. He watched Taira pace back and forth, hugging herself.

“I stood up to her,” she squealed. “I really did.”

“You did well,” Stephan said. “I’d wager Quintilla will take your input more seriously in future.”

“Yeah. I’m not going to let her…” She frowned, holding one hand to her head. “I won’t…” Her eyes narrowed with pain. “I don’t feel good.”

She dropped like a sack of bricks.

Stephan was at her side in a second, checked her pulse, her breathing. Slight arrhythmia. Quick, fluttering breaths. He switched on his glasses and scanned over her aura. Subdued, shivering with her heartbeat.

“What’s wrong… with me?” Taira asked, unable to lift her head.

“Anima fatigue,” Stephan said with reasonable confidence. “You used too much magic, too quickly. You’ve probably been running on nothing but adrenaline for a while now.”

“Is it bad?”

Stephan shrugged. “I’m no doctor, and I’m certainly no mage, so I couldn’t tell you. Are you in pain?”

“No. I just feel… light.”

“I reckon that’s a good sign. Some bed rest will probably set you right.”

Taira raised her arms with obvious strain, then let them fall with a sigh. “That might be a problem. I cannot get up.”

Stephan smiled. “No worries. We’ve already done this exercise once today.” With some difficulty, he lifted her into his arms and stood. He put her down in bed, gentle as he could, and pulled the blankets over her waist.

“Thank you,” she said with a grateful smile that made Stephan’s heart thump.

“I should probably stick around, keep an eye on you,” he said, taking a polite step back. “Make sure your condition doesn’t worsen while you sleep.”

“Perhaps that would be best.” Her dark eyes sparkled knowingly.

“Then—”

“Could you do one more thing?” she asked.

Stephan pursed his lips. “Well, sure. What is it?”

“A kiss.”

“A kiss? I don’t…”

Taira took his hand, pulled at it. She wasn’t strong enough to reel him in, but Stephan took the hint and leaned in close. Closer. Closer. Her full lips were pursed, waiting.

The captain’s going to kill me for this, he thought.

But the captain didn’t matter then. Only the two of them did. He felt her hot breath on his cheeks, prickling the hairs on his arms.

A long, rumbling snore broke him out of the moment. He leaned back, waved a hand over Taira’s face.

Completely out.

“That figures,” he said with a chuckle.

He seated himself in the foldable chair and watched over her while she slept. The two kithraxi came in at some point, throwing Stephan hard glares. They clambered into bed and settled near Taira’s feet like loyal pups.

Stephan stayed up as long as he could. Once his eyelids drooped low and he was nearly pitching off the chair, he laid down on the floor for a short nap.

Man, what a…

He was wrapped up in a shroud of dreams before he could finish his thought.

*****

Stephan slept in late. Everyone did. apart from Torch and Kazzul, who had seen none of the action.

Taira had recovered a little come morning. She’d be spending the next few days in bed, but he was confident that she would pull through without issue.

Stephan was in the rec room, boiling a pot of water for some coffee. He needed it, sorely. His body was stiff from having slept on the floor, and his eyes were red and thick with sleep.

He held a handful of coffee beans to his nose and drew in a long breath, savoring the sharp, earthy smell. Tumba had an excellent selection of foods from every corner of Solam, but Stephan had been truly ecstatic at finding Aqithi coffee beans. Fuller and more flavorful than the usual stuff, it was well worth the exorbitant asking price. Judging by the daily breakfast turnout, the rest of the crew thought similarly.

Kazzul and Torch were playing cards at the table using an old. beat-up deck. As Stephan started grinding up the beans, however, he noticed that they were barely paying attention to the cards. Torch lost without his usual shriek of disappointment. They were staring.

Staring at… him.

“Coffee will be ready in a minute,” Stephan said. “I’m making enough for everyone, don’t worry.”

Torch giggled.

Kazzul hid a smile behind his hand of cards.

Stephan frowned. “Okay, what’s so funny?”

“Think he done it?” the lubbard asked, glancing at Torch.

“You have a fun time with Taira yesterday?” Torch asked, trying to look casual, in turn looking more suspicious as he shuffled in place.

“No, actually,” Stephan said. “We were fighting for our lives through most of it. I can’t say it was a hoot.”

“Way I heard it, you pretty much saved her life.”

“It was mutual.”

“Still,” Kazzul said. “She must’ve been grateful.”

Stephan remembered last night and blushed. “Oh, yeah. Ahem, very grateful.”

“You really did it, didn’t you?” Kazzul grinned. “What a dog.” He held out his hand, and Torch handed him a wad of crumpled bills.

“What?” Stephan looked down at his rumpled suit, touched his disheveled hair. “Oh. Oh. No, it was nothing like that. We didn’t…”

“Don’t worry about it, brother,” Torch said with a reassuring gesture. “We won’t tell.”

“Won’t tell what?” Quintilla asked, wandering into the rec room. She leaned against the counter next to Stephan, her stare boring holes in his skull. “About how you fucked my sister?”

“I didn’t!” Stephan said quickly. “I haven’t even kissed her!”

“Oh? But you wanted to?”

“No! Well, yes. So what if I did? That’s none of your…”

Quintilla raised a sharp eyebrow.

Stephan cleared his throat and trailed off.

“You get her pregnant, I’ll make sure you never stick your dick in anything ever again.” She pointed to the revolver on her hip. “You think I’d use this, don’t you? No. Far too quick. I’d use a knife. Blunt and rusty. I think Torch has a couple.”

“I, uh…” His mouth was suddenly dry. He swallowed twice. “Yes, captain.”

Quintilla clapped him heartily on the shoulder, suddenly all smiles. “There’s a lad! Treat her nice, y’hear? Not like some dockside whore.” She leaned in closer. “You make her happy. Keep that up.” Her grip went hard, unyielding. “Or else.”

Stephan nodded until his neck ached.