The Edge of the Ocean Read online

  “But there’s the mer-folk, too,” Flick said. “They need to go from water to water.”

  “Aye. That’s a good point.” Burnish nodded. “Can you not go home and find a watery place for them and us all go together, like?”

  “We can’t go anywhere right now,” Jonathan said. “We need the suitcase back.” He rubbed at his forehead with his unbandaged hand.

  Burnish stroked his beard again as he thought. “I think our best bet would be to go to the Scattered Isles,” he said. “Talk to the mer-folk there, find out what’s going on. They’ll tell me what they’d never tell Nyfe. She wants to be in charge of them. I just want to exist alongside, you understand? They’re good people to have on your side. Despite what some people say.” Burnish glanced down at the artwork on his skin. “I could tell you some stories. You grow up hearing that one lot of people are the enemy. But then you meet them, and you realize…” He shook his head.

  Flick said, “People are just people.”

  Burnish nodded. “You’ve got the truth of the matter right there, young lady. But this sort of talk usually requires a mug or two of ale, so let’s get back to the task at hand.” He unrolled a circular map and jabbed a finger at a few blobs of gray in the blue of the sea. “Now, then. That there’s the Scattered Isles. It’ll take two days to sail there, unless the mer find us first.”

  “Is that likely to happen?” Flick asked, trying to do fast math in her head and work out the amount of time they’d been away. Two days was twenty hours times two and divided by eighteen…

  “Anything could happen, world being the way it is.” Burnish stood up. He looked the three of them over, and his gaze rested on Jonathan. “You’re grieving, young man.”

  Jonathan’s blank face turned defensive. “How—yes, but—”

  “I’ve seen that look too many times.” Burnish drew a circle around the edges of his own face. “Worn it plenty, too. And I know you’re trying not to think on it, because you think your friends need you to be strong, but that’s a lot of seagull-doings. Throwing yourself into fights? Trying to float like sea foam over the depths of your own feelings? That don’t work forever.”

  Jonathan blushed.

  “You got to think on it sometime, lad, or else it’ll eat you from the inside out.”

  Jonathan frowned. “And how am I supposed to do that?” he asked.

  Burnish smiled sadly. “The sea takes what it wants,” he said. “And sometimes it wants what you’d rather die than give up. And it leaves you alive for a reason. Six children I’ve watched Tessa bring into the world.” He jerked his thumb at the little woman, who, Flick realized, was obviously his partner. “Six. And only two of them still breathe. My son, Ari, he’s the best tailor you could hope for when cloth is scarce. He’s below decks.”

  Flick stared. “What about the oth—”

  “Tell the lads to set up some bunks,” Burnish said loudly to Tessa, interrupting Flick before she could finish her question. “We’re heading south. Toward the edge.” He looked back at the three travelers. “I hope there’s enough time left in this world for all this. Gods help us.”

  22

  The Scattered Isles were not as large as Flick expected them to be. They had been a cluster of green and brown blobs on Captain Burnish’s map, and when they appeared on the horizon, they looked much the same.

  “I thought they’d be bigger,” Flick said.

  “No, no.” Tessa, standing beside Flick, Avery, and Jonathan on the deck, shook her head. “They’re only wee. You can walk around the largest in a couple of hours. But people generally don’t. They’re not for us, you see?”

  “They belong to the mer-folk?” Avery asked.

  “And the gods made sure of it. The waters here are too shallow for the ship. We’ll drop anchor soon, and carry on by jolly boat.” Tessa pulled her knitted cardigan closer. Above them, the tears in the sky were dimming. The darkness of another world’s night would be upon them soon, though by the ship’s clock it was only just early afternoon. “I don’t like sailing this close to the edge,” she said. “It reminds me how little time our world might have left.” She sniffed. “Excuse me. I’ll be needed below.”

  Avery chewed her lip. “Yeah, I think I’ll go below as well,” she said, and followed Tessa down the steps and out of sight.

  Flick watched her go, tingling with worry and nerves. “Do you think she’s upset?”

  “Probably,” Jonathan said. “I know I am.”

  Flick looked at him. “I’m—”

  “Don’t say you’re sorry,” he said. “It’s getting incredibly boring.” He sighed, and stretched against the gunwale of the ship. “You know what the most tedious thing is? Sometimes, when I’m busy doing something, I forget. And then I’ll think, Oh, wasn’t I supposed to be sad? and feel ten times worse for it.”

  Flick wished she could think of something to say that wasn’t those two little words again. She settled for patting Jonathan on the arm.

  “LAND AHEAD!” someone yelled from above.

  “WEIGH ANCHOR!”

  Burnish came up from below decks as the anchors, one on either side of the ship, crashed into the water. “HANG TIGHT!”

  Flick gripped the railing as Jonathan did the same, and the Serpent rose up on a wave, groaning and pulling against the anchor chains, before eventually smashing down onto the skin of the ocean, water pouring over the prow.

  “Everyone all right?” Burnish looked about and got calls of assent. “Right. Load up a jolly boat, quick as you can.” Sailors scurried to do as he ordered. “Pack it up for an overnight, and don’t forget the fresh water. Enough for”—he paused, and looked over at the people on deck—“four.”

  “Four?” Flick asked.

  “You three, and me,” Burnish answered.

  23

  The jolly boat was lowered into the water, with the three of them and Captain Burnish inside it. There was a hamper of food in the middle of the boat, and a flexible waxed sheet that would do for a shelter if they got caught in a storm.

  Flick gripped the side of the boat and watched as the vessel was loosed off, and Burnish took hold of the oars.

  “I’d ask for a hand”—he snorted, pulling staunchly—“but none of you look like you’ve done a hard day’s work in your lives.” The boat skimmed smoothly through the water. “Must be an easy life, on land.”

  “Our planet is mostly water, actually,” Flick said thoughtfully.

  “And yet you choose to stay on the land?”

  “Not everyone does. There’s lots of ships. But not everyone works or lives on them.”

  Burnish rolled his shoulders, the oars cutting through the bobbing water again. “Seems a queer way to behave, if you ask me. If most of your world is water, why would you choose not to see it?”

  Jonathan gave a weak sort of harrumph.

  “Oh, aye, except maybe young green-gills over here.” Burnish’s smile widened into a grin. He fished in his pack and brought out a telescope. “It won’t be too long, lad,” he said. He handed the telescope to Jonathan. “Just keep your eye on the isles for me, and make sure they’re staying still.”

  Avery caught Flick’s eye. She smiled, but it looked like a different smile from her usual grin. This one was softer. As if it was asking a question.

  Flick’s stomach tightened. She smiled back, but it was the sort where your mouth stretches, but your eyes don’t bother to focus.

  Avery’s smile wavered, and fell. She looked away.

  Something like regret blossomed in Flick’s chest, and she wanted to apologize and smile properly. Because they were pretty much friends now, weren’t they? But… Avery was from another world. Not this one, and not Flick’s. If they did become friends, if they did get close to each other… she might never see her again.

  Flick tried to put a lid on the aching feeling in her chest. She had no right to be thinking about future losses when Jonathan had already lost everything. She looked at him and asked, “How much far
ther?”

  “It’s close,” Jonathan managed to croak. He lowered the telescope. “Oh, not that close. Maybe less than one hundred meters?”

  Burnish looked over his shoulder. “Right. Keep an eye for me. You see that inlet with the arch overhead? We’re headed through there. Direct me into it, keep me away from the rocks.”

  “Er, all right.” Jonathan looked over. “Um. Slightly to the left?”

  “The what?”

  “Left, your left!”

  “That’s port, you daft duck,” Burnish dug into the water with an oar. “I’ll make a sailing man of you yet, Mercator.”

  They sailed under the stone arch, which appeared to have been made purely by the wind and the waves. The jolly boat fit easily, and they arrived in a cove where the water lapped at a cropping of rock, just flat and low enough to clamber up onto.

  “The mer-folk will be in the cove around the other side,” Burnish explained, “but we can’t sail up to them—it’s not polite, you see? We’ll tie off here and walk the rest of the way. We’ll leave the hamper on the shore; it’ll only slow us down.” He unrolled some rope. “You, girl, hop out and wrap this around that rock.” He handed the rope to Avery, who did as she was told, wrapping the rope around a sticking-up rock that had been worn smooth in places by years of other ropes being tied around it.

  “That’ll do, just to hold it for a moment. Out you get,” Burnish pulled Jonathan to his feet and all but bowled him onto the shore. Flick followed, catching herself before Burnish disembarked as sure-footed as anything. He took the rope from Avery and tied it off in a simple knot.

  “How far is it to the mermaids?” Flick asked.

  “Mer-folk,” Burnish corrected. “They’re not all women. How would that work? And not far. About half an hour.”

  They started walking. Flick felt slightly anxious to be leaving the boat behind, but there was nothing to be done about it. It wasn’t as though anyone was going to come along and steal it, she thought, and even if they did, Tessa could launch them another.

  “Are there any rules for talking to mer-folk?” Avery asked.

  “There’s nothing in this world’s guidebook,” Jonathan said. “I checked last night. But there’s nothing mentioned. It went on at length about the pirates, though.”

  “Oh, aye?” Burnish looked over his shoulder. “What does your wee book say about us, then?”

  “That you’re to be respected, but that you can be beaten,” Jonathan replied, without missing a beat. “Also that you place a lot of value on debt and honor.”

  “That’s true enough. I haven’t forgotten I owe you a favor, lad.”

  “Thank you.”

  “As for the mer-folk”—Burnish gently nudged a crab out of the way with his boot—“you’ll want to keep your wits about you. They talk with gilded words, particularly when they want something. Especially those the same size as us. The wee ones, well, they don’t cause too much trouble, unless you harm one of them by accident, and that’s easily done.”

  “What about the bigger ones?” Flick asked, remembering the mer-person who’d said their people could be of great sizes. “Aren’t some the same size as whales?”

  “Only seen two of the giant ones in my lifetime. And that’s two more than most folk ever see, though there’s meant to be a great many in the depths. Don’t worry your head about them.” He sniffed. “The Mer-Queen herself is one.”

  Flick stopped walking and Avery crashed into her. “But—but we met the Mer-Queen. At the parley!”

  “Did you heck.” Burnish laughed. “Nah, you met the voice of the queen. Like a messenger, only more official. The queen will have a spokesperson, like a voice for herself, to talk to the likes of us.”

  “Captain Nyfe doesn’t have a spokesperson,” Flick said. Away from the Aconite, the “Pirate Queen” title sounded a bit silly.

  “Oh, her.” Burnish snorted dismissively. “Far too high and mighty for her own good, that one. Queen, my soggy backside. She’s no more royalty than any other leaders of the past. I’ve known the Opal Bride, Cut-Throat Angel… I even remember old Drowned Rat, from back when I was a boy. One hell of a leader, he was. Used to drink beet-wine and tell his enemies it was rat’s blood, for strength. Course, drinking rat’s blood is like trying to take a sup of cold tar, so everyone who believed him thought he was mad and dangerous, which was the point. Nyfe Shaban is the same. Trying to scrape up a little more respect than she might otherwise get.”

  “I thought she won her title, though?” Flick asked, curious to hear another view of the woman who seemed so revered and feared among her own crew.

  “And we saw her break a man’s arm with one punch when he challenged her,” Avery added. Flick shuddered at the memory.

  “Oh, aye. She can fight,” Burnish said. “And command, she’s good at that, too. But she has too much ambition. She wants to be a real queen, in command of it all, but she forgets her sailors are real people, with thoughts of their own. You build up enough armor around yourself, and you find it difficult to move. That’s when you get toppled by someone who’s more nimble, you see?”

  Avery frowned. “You think she needs to change?”

  “Be more open to change, at any rate. You heard how she talks about us. Like we’re thieves and good-for-nothing. All because we won’t bend the knee to her! Have I treated you badly?”

  “Well, you did try to stab me,” Jonathan said fairly.

  Burnish waved a hand dismissively. “That was a matter of honor. Nothing to do with manners, or what sort of a man I am. And besides, I wouldn’t have killed you.”

  “No?”

  “No, I wouldn’t have done that. You’re just a kid. I might have cut one of your ears off, though. Would’ve made those spectacles difficult to keep on, wouldn’t it?” He laughed uproariously.

  “Hilarious,” Jonathan said dryly. “But if you want to escape this world safely, why didn’t you attend the parley with the pirates and the Mer-Queen’s spokesperson? It was a peaceful zone.”

  “Peaceful to her friends,” Burnish sighed. “There’s some grudges Nyfe won’t be shifted on. Now, hush. We’re close.”

  They had been walking up a shallow incline, which now plateaued before grading sharply downward again. Flick supposed they had reached the middle of the island, though in the gloom it was difficult to tell. Her brain was trying to tell her it was getting late, but her body wasn’t tired yet, and knew she hadn’t been awake long enough for it to be really nighttime. How did anyone regulate their sleep pattern in this world?

  Burnish led the way down the slope, and Flick and the others followed him. They copied where he put his hands and boots, subconsciously trusting the man not to slip.

  “There. You see them?” Burnish murmured, pointing down.

  Flick stared, but saw only a mirrored circle of water within the crescent of land, and several raised stones jutting from it. Clearly not a place to land a boat. “No,” she said.

  “We’ll get closer, seeing as you’re unlikely to get taller in a hurry.”

  A little farther, and Flick could see more of the cove. The water gently lapped at the rocks and there, half-submerged on the jutting stones, were mer-folk.

  They looked the same as the others Flick had seen—bald, and scaly, and nothing at all like picture-book mermaids.

  “Hello, there!” Captain Burnish yelled beside her ear, distracting her. He waved at the mer-folk in the water. “Hello!”

  Heads turned. A couple of the mer-folk vanished beneath the waves, but others waved back and beckoned.

  “Right, down we go,” Burnish said to them. “Remember what I told you. Keep your wits about you.”

  They descended quickly, coming out onto a shoreline of smooth black rock that looked almost melted—volcanic, perhaps, Flick thought.

  Burnish approached the water, smiling broadly, and reached out a hand to a mer-person, who swam up and took it. “Well met, Katyo. You look in fine health. Have you done something different wit
h your gills?”

  “You can’t charm me, Ezra,” Katyo said, letting go of the captain’s hand. He flashed a smile of pointed teeth. “I know you’re a married man.” He put both his hands on the ground and heaved himself up and onto the rock.

  It was then that Flick saw Katyo was not like the fish-tailed mer-woman from the pirates’ parley. As he dragged himself up to sit on the rocks, he revealed a thick mass of tentacles that started at his waist and flared outward like a skirt. They deepened and darkened in color from a brownish gray at the point where they met his torso to a reddish-black at the tips.

  Flick realized she was staring. Avery and Jonathan were, too. She snapped her mouth shut and smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

  “And you, human girl.” Katyo nodded. He had a handsome face, and turned it toward each of his visitors, one by one. Flick wondered if he thought they were strange looking.

  “You can survive out of water!” Jonathan choked out, breaking the mood.

  “Indeed.” Katyo turned dark eyes toward him. “Though we primarily use gills, some of us have a secondary respiratory system that allows us to respire through our skin, for a little while. Perhaps ten of your minutes. But it is difficult, and uncomfortable.”

  “Like trying to breathe at altitude, I suppose,” Jonathan mused.

  Captain Burnish and Katyo exchanged puzzled glances, then shrugged.

  “Kat, we’re here about a suitcase,” Burnish said. “A box, with a handle and a lid. Have you seen it?”

  Katyo nodded. “I know of it. It is in the queen’s possession.”

  Flick’s heart leapt—the suitcase wasn’t back in her hand yet, but it suddenly seemed a lot closer.

  Burnish said, “It belongs to these children. They need it back, Kat. It’s important.”

  Katyo looked doubtful. “I understand the object was taken for the purpose of negotiation with the Pirate Queen. As we are openly allied with you, Ezra, we planned to offer her a gift—something she desired. So, we were forced to steal it. To give it up now would weaken our position.”