Shadow Road: Book 1 of the Shadows Rising Trilogy

37. The Rimrocks

10th of Nema

Yesterday, Orrul may have told hair-raising stories to scare the children, but the adults remained cautiously optimistic, and talk began of bathing in a proper tub, and guzzling cold water, and eating fresh fruit.

Relieved or not, the closer we got to the steep-sided peaks rising out of the mist, the more often the sailors paused to eye the rocks with suspicion, until they were scanning every barren crag and cliff for floubestes and 'who-knows-what-else.'

NaVarre came over after dinner tonight to inform us that, contrary to Orrul's wild tales, no merfolk would slink out of the water to steal our souls while we slept (I wasn't particularly worried on that count), and there were no sea serpents here at this time of year (again, not a worry I seriously entertained), and that the cannibals wouldn't be a problem if everyone stayed on the ships until we got to Aethscaul (slightly more worrisome).

We reached the Rimrocks shortly before sundown and anchored in a small, protected gap between three of the largest islands just inside the outer limits. Beyond that point the sailing was too hazardous in the dark, so we waited until dawn.

The sixth bell signaled the night watch, and the aftmess watch went shuffling below to snag a few hours of down time. I doubted anyone actually fell asleep. The whole crew was nervous, but several of the apprentice sailors were well under Orrul's sway. None of them had found NaVarre's little speech all that encouraging. In fact, the bit about cannibals only made things worse as darkness closed in. They were absolutely convinced flesh eaters were lurking everywhere, and they jumped at every little sound, eyes wide.

That was the first time I ever heard someone question Arramy's orders. One of the apprentice sailors walked over to stand next to his slightly older watchmate, and whispered, "Why don't the Captain give us all guns? Why not arm the whole ship, not just the marines? I'd feel safer with some way to defend myself. A pistol, at least..."

The other man just gave the first-year a glare. "He don't want fools like you shooting friendlies because you 'thought you saw something,' Darvish. That's why. Your job is to keep your eyes peeled and raise the alarm if there's trouble. Get back to your post and stay there."

Darvish hesitated a moment, but then nodded and sidled away, taking up his spot at the aft-deck railing again, his young shoulders rigid.

As the sunset died to a dull orange suggestion on the horizon, the Ang set up lanterns fore and aft. That was only a small reassurance when the moon was a slender paring of silver in the sky, and no one was entirely sure that NaVarre wasn't leading us into a trap.

Whether out of suspicion, or simply to appease the fears of his less experienced men, Arramy ordered that all of the Stryka's mirrored watch lanterns be lit, in addition to the usual nautical lightsheds on the masts.

I stayed above decks while Evers and Reiskelder went scurrying about with touch-fire sticks, lighting the lantern wicks. The lanterns were then aimed out into the darkness, sending swathes of fierce golden light cascading over the rocky sides of the islands surrounding the Stryka.

It did seem to ease the crew a little, as did the fact that the Captain himself was standing watch.

I wasn't up on the aft deck for the lights, however. I had discovered that if I stood in the curve overlooking the wake, there wasn't as much glare from the lanterns. Aunt Sapphine always said the stars were brighter in the tropics. Closer, somehow. And she was right. As the last of the sunset faded, the stars began emerging, more and more of them until they glimmered like a million diamonds spilled across blue velvet, bright enough to set the rugged tops of the islands in inky silhouette.