Corvus (Stars and Sails, Book 1)

Thirty-two (Part 2 of 2)

Jade didn't know that Sabik could climb. He said he had worked on vessels, but she couldn't often picture him pulling at lines until he was shimmering with sweat. When she could, it seemed like one of the many perks of having an imagination.

He had been meditating on the main top for as long as he'd been gone. Now, after such a time, he climbed down to the deck without a struggle. Jade loitered on the top step of the staircase, wondering if he'd ever stop unraveling.

"You found my note," he said. He wiped his hands off on each other—fresh blacking never left a good feel on the skin.

Jade cleared the last step. "You were meditating."

He rose an eyebrow. "I was not. I was merely trying, but you see, Naqi is better than I." He sat on the gunwales. The wind trilled and pushed their hair into their faces. He pushed his back. "You need something."

"You actually left the note." Jade took a deep breath and walked towards him. "But, yes, I wanted to speak to you too."

"Walk with me," he said. He made no move to get up.

"Walk?"

"I've never been to Longport, Harris. Show me around before we leave."

Sabik and Jade left the ship. The streets were alive and full of energy in the twilit hours. As they walked through the docks, Jade looked wistfully at every distressed fishing boat and tall ship. It wasn't as if she had lived a sheltered life on the Coronis. Every port was a new adventure and by the time she was only fourteen, she had seen all of Duranta. Maybe that was it. She could be anything she wanted—a farmer, a warrior, a politician, a wife—but she didn't want any of that. Despite all of life's beautiful possibilities, she still could not imagine anything more romantic than the life the Coronis promised her. She shamed herself for impractical romanticism. The past, or the alternate future, was no more pressing than her life right now.

Sabik cleared his throat. "So, what is it?"

Jade widened her eyes as she plummeted back to reality. "I found something in my father's room."

"We are all bound to have things in our rooms."

"Sod off," she mumbled. "I found a woman's frock coat."

They stepped off the docks and into the open-air market. The carts were crowded, stinking of fresh and foul fish and newly baked bread. The smells combined and her stomach roiled. The shopkeepers hit bells with loose branches. Pots of chowder heated over bonfires in the streets. The sailors lined up for supper and ate their fill on the sun-soaked streets.

As they wove between the crowds, Sabik raised his voice over the clamor of moving carts, cheering shopkeepers, and hoof beats. "The coat was your mother's?"

Jade looked away. "No, no. They didn't know each other well and I was a mistake."

Sabik didn't respond. She wouldn't have either. She bit the tip of her tongue lightly. "You look sick. I imagine you've been through the market before."

His mood lightened at the change of topic. "No, I have not," he said. "I stayed at the inn in the Western Quarter while I corresponded with Captain Noble."

They stepped out of the square and worked their way up the hill. The carriages trundled by on squeaky wheels. It was never a smooth ride on the cobblestone streets. They passed the tavern which was already filled with sodden customers. "Was it the Rock and Anchor Inn?"

"It was." Although he expressed an interest in seeing Longport, his gaze ran over the ocean instead. "This coat—is it yours?"

Jade ran her hand over the cool metal railing that protected the streets from the bluffs. The sun was setting, but the sky was not as spectacular as it usually was. The clouds made sure that the world was bathed in a dim golden light. There were only patches of brightness here and there to break up the monotony. It seemed ever since she'd gotten to port, she'd been caught in a tempest of herself. She only remembered the rain and the churning clouds. "No, it is not mine," she said. "This coat belonged to a woman named Isa."