Chapter 161: Six – Plotting

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Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Six - Plotting

The day after the ball had passed in a sort of haze. We were all tired and other than Awen who had a sudden powerful urge to make stuff, the rest of us all lounged around being lazy all day and mostly just relaxed.

That was yesterday. Today, I put off the shackles of laziness and got to work. I had to show off the ship to one of its most important crewmates.

“And this is the main deck,” I said as I set Orange down. Carrying the cat up was a bit complicated, but I had managed.

Orange looked about with... a distinctly feline lack of interest. She didn’t seem to care all that much about the Beaver.

“Don’t look like that,” I said. “We’re all going to have a bunch of fun on this ship, and you have an important role to play too!”

Orange stared up at me, her expression hinting that that role had better involve sleeping.

“See, ships have rats and stuff in them,” I said.

Orange’s eyes narrowed.

“And we need to capture and carefully put them outside where they can go frolic elsewhere with their rat families,” I continued. “Oh, and our figureheads need guarding.” I started walking towards the front of the ship and Orange padded along silently.

I patted one of the ducks.

“These beaver-ducks need guarding,” I said. “We’ll all be very busy doing ship stuff, so I was hoping that we could hire you to be our chief ship figurehead guardscat.”

Orange did not look amused.

“Um... first cat mate of figurehead guarding?”

She looked away, uninterested.

“Cat captain of the figureheads?”

Now she seemed a little interested. She started to lick her paw, enticed.

“Fine. Grand admiral of the figureheads.”

Orange gave me a kitty smile and sauntered past, rubbing herself against my leg for a moment before bouncing up and settling herself down atop one of the duck heads.

“Wow, you’re really taking to your new job,” I said as I reached up and ran my hand over Orange’s side. Spirit cat fur had a strange texture to it, probably owing to how it wasn’t quite there.

“Broccoli!” I heard Amaryllis call.

I gave Orange one last pat before moving to the side of the ship so that I could look over the rail. Amaryllis was there, along with Clementine and Awen and three other harpies that I wasn’t familiar with. “Hello!” I called down.

“Permission to come aboard, Captain?” the oldest of the harpies asked. He was a weather-beaten gentleman, with a craggy face and narrowed eyes. Not an unfriendly face, but one that had spent long hours out in the sun and wind. The other two with him were a great deal younger, maybe in their mid-twenties.

“Sure thing!” I said. I wished that I had my awesome captain’s hat, but it was stuffed away in the guest bedroom the Albatross had given me.

The group scurried up the ladder, ladies first, and gathered up on deck. “Welcome aboard,” I said.

“A pleasure,” the older harpy said.

Clementine brushed down the front of her pants, then took a moment to inspect the top deck of the Beaver. It was sparkling clean, and the fresh coat of paint on all the metal bits and varnish on the top really made it look like a brand-new ship. “Nice work,” she said. “I saw Awen’s... unorthodox modifications already, and with all of this repainting and refurbishing, I think this vessel might actually be worth something.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’m quite proud of the Beaver. I bet we’ll have all sorts of adventures together.”

“She’s a nice ship,” the older harpy said.

“He,” I corrected. “It’s a boy ship.”

He blinked, then chuckled good naturedly. “Fair enough.”

“This,” Clementine said. “Is Clive. He’s one of the most experienced harpy shipmen in all of the Nesting Kingdom.”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s impressive. Did you serve on a lot of ships?”

He nodded. “Oh yes. I was on the Condor, the very first harpy airship. Just a normal sailor then, mind you. I’ve been on every sort of ship for the past thirty-odd years.”

“We brought him over because we figured the Beaver could use at least one experienced talon aboard,” Clementine said.

“I know my way around navigation and the like,” Amaryllis said. “But I’m dead weight on the rigging and so on. And this ship is just big enough that there’s no way we could pilot it with just the three of us. Hence these two.”

“Ah, yes, this is Steve and Gordon,” Clementine continued. The two harpy boys gave us quick salutes. “They’re your crew, basically.”

“Wow!” I said. “So that makes... a crew of eight. Not bad.”

“Eight?” Clementine asked.

I nodded. “That’s if we take on Bastion from the sylph. I don’t know if he’s good on a ship, but he seems capable enough to help.”

“That still doesn’t add up,” she said.

“Did you forget to count Orange?” I gestured to the cat currently in loaf mode atop one of the figureheads.

“I don’t think the cat counts as crew,” Clementine said.

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Clive cleared his throat. “Matter of fact, ma’am, many a ship does count her cats as crew. Important fellows too, when it comes to keeping the cargo nice and safe.”

I could almost feel the smug radiating from Orange.

“So, are you guys here to see if the Beaver’s ready to set sail?” I asked.

Clive nodded along. “The boys here will give themselves a tour, check the rigging and the sails, and make sure everything is tip-top.”

Steve and Gordon saluted again and snapped off to do as they’d been asked.

“Both are navy-trained,” Clive said. “Good lads.”

“Indeed,” Clementine said. “I was hoping to look over a few charts. If you’ll be leaving soon, then we’ll need to chart a course sooner rather than later.” She tapped a small satchel that hung off her hip. “Do you have a place where we can look things over?”

“Sure,” I said. “There’s plenty of room down below.”

I led everyone over to the port cabin where we’d set up a bit of office space. Amaryllis had brought a few books to fill the shelves, and we had a couple stools bolted to the floor around a little desk. It was meant to be a captain’s room, but since we barely had a captain it felt nicer to just have a sort of office everyone could use.

Also, the port cabin had windows and a little balcony and was much homier and brighter.

Clementine set her satchel down, then laid a map onto the table. It was a big one, with little markers for distance and penned-in labels for the different cities between the Nesting Kingdom and the Sylphfree mountains.

“Here.” She tapped at a city marker. “This is Quickwood. It’s a smaller city, with a decently large port. And it’s probably going to be your destination.”

“Is it the capital?” I asked.

“No, that’s Goldenalden.” Her talon moved up and tapped at a bigger marker. “Here. But traveling through the Sylphfree mountains without a local guide is treacherous, long, and rather expensive. It would be much cheaper to park the Beaver in Quickwood and then charter a place on one of the transports heading to and from the capital. Maybe you can even arrange for a teleport between the two.”

“Neat,” I said. “So what’s the trajectory from here to Quickwood like?”

“Ah, I’ve done this one a few times,” Clive said. “Easy enough, what with the Golden Peak acting as a landmark the entire way. Just keep it to port and keep moving straight and you’ll get there eventually.”

“That is the usual route, yes,” Clementine said. “But I think that would be a little bit more dangerous than you’d want. There have been a lot of reports of privateers around Cinderlock and Fort Ignoble. The Trenten Flats deny all of that, of course, but they certainly wouldn’t mind if a war was sparked between the Nesting Kingdom and the sylph. It would feed into their expansionist agenda.”

“Um,” I said as I looked at the map. “I can’t see a way to get to Sylphfree without crossing them, unless we circumnavigate the world?”

“No, there’s another path,” Amaryllis said. “Southwest, through Deepmarsh, skirting the coast of the Empty Sea, then north across the Hoofbreaker Woods and finally into Quickwood. It’s a much longer route though.”

“And not always safer. The Empty Sea may be very quiet year-round. But the Insatiable Ocean to the east, she’s hungry for ships and men.”

“Hrm,” I said. “Which path is the most dangerous, Clementine?”

“The fastest route. Your ship is small, easy prey for the cervid pirates. I think going south might be the safest. It will add two, maybe three days to your travel time, but you have plenty of room for that kind of fuel and the provisions you need, and if you leave tomorrow, that will still mean you’ll arrive at Quickwood a full three days before the official delegation leaving in a week or so.”

“What do you think, Awen?” I asked.

“Ah, um... I think that if the Beaver will have troubles it’ll probably be sooner rather than later. And we’ll be over Deepmarsh at first. They’re nice. But if we go straight, then we’ll be over the Trenten Flats.”

“That’s true,” I said. “Also, going south and around just looks a lot more fun.”

“Yes, because the amount of fun we have is the most important factor in all of this,” Amaryllis deadpanned.

“Exactly, yes,” I said.

Amaryllis rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“I try my best,” I said. “But really, isn’t the entire goal of this to get stronger and more experienced? I bet there’s a lot more to learn when going through a long trip than with a risky hop over to our destination.”

Clementine didn’t seem to react much to that. “Well, it’s your ship, do as you please.”

I grinned back at her. “Yes ma’am! So, are we really ready to leave tomorrow?”

“At first light, if everything checks out,” she said. “I don’t think this truly counts as the ship’s inaugural flight, though if you want to break a bottle on its side I’m sure we have something laying around.”

“I think we’d rather keep the bottle and its contents. World knows I might need it when flying with her,” Amaryllis said with a gesture my way.

“Hey!” I protested.

Clive laughed, a deep belly laugh that sounded rough, and yet grandfatherly. “Oh, I think this might be one of the more interesting crews I’ve ever been part of, and on an interesting ship, no less.”

“We strive to be interesting,” I said. “So, tonight’s our last night here?”

“I suppose it’s not too late to have Gen-Gen and the others prepare a feast. I’m certain that Rosaline would appreciate a last meal with her beau.”

Awen’s face burst into colour and she suddenly focused really hard on the map.

“I think that would be nice,” I said. Clive, do you want to join us?”

“I’m not much for fancy feast-like things, ma’am,” he said.

“Nonsense! You and Steve and Gordon should join us. It’ll be a bonding moment. We’ll get to know each other a bit and it’ll make it easier to work together in the future.”

“Ah, if the lady insists,” he said. He didn’t look all that contrary to the idea. “Though I won’t be spending too long, I’m afraid; I do need to get some affairs in order before we leave on the morrow.”

I gave him a big thumbs-up. “Sure thing. I think that this flight is going to be super smooth sailing.”

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