CHAPTER 4: Choices

Fawkes crawled out of the water and onto Boatessa in the dark, cursing. There had been no way to get to Cragjumpers Alehouse as it was closed up tight against the Hand who were not bothering to hide as they watched the place. After helping JuJu out of the water, he and his dog snuck aboard the Gosling. 

Tying the front flaps of the deck tent closed, he lit a fire in the brazier before sitting on a bench. A muscle twitched in his neck as he pulled off a boot and water poured out. Pulling off his second boot, a silver-scaled minnow flopped to the deck floor.

PeyPey let out a happy yelp, slurped it up, and swallowed.

Fawkes stripped naked and spread his clothes to dry. His longcoat had been packed into his haverpack so he took it out and put both away on their respective pegs in his cabin. With no other puttering needing to be done, he left the cabin door open and began to pace.

He knew nothing about the captain of the Eddy Rider but Grandfather's work in the Grand Archives, the seat of power for the High Guild of Magic, had let Fawkes grow around them. That colored flames spell had revealed there were three wizards in the town of Blackstone. One was unwillingly on board the Eddy Rider, which meant the other two were probably on board to keep him there. They would be too busy focusing on keeping the one wizard on aboard, not looking for someone with minor magics.

Fawkes untied the front flaps of the deck tent so he could glare at the Eddy Rider. On a river ship, the captain's cabin was under the poop deck.  Which meant the "captive" wizard, who was really a fellow rogue wizard of the Hand being forcibly re-assigned elsewhere, was probably being watched by the other two below deck.

Only two lanterns, one near the gangplank and the other near the stairs to the lower decks, shone in the night on the Eddy Rider's top deck.  Men lounged about, wearing cowled longcoats.  They were obviously waiting for something, but what? All the portholes on the side of the ship he could see shone with lantern light.  Despite the late hour, no one seemed to be sleeping onboard.  Something was going on.

Bristol had been so disgusted with the captain I have to believe Thimmy must be locked in the captain's cabin. And with so much activity lighting up the below decks, the captain would certainly be there as well. Right? He grimaced. I only have guesses and those are always risky. But if I don't risk it, Thimmy will probably be dead, if he isn't already.

Fawkes narrowed his eyes. With wizards keeping another on board against his will, there were probably wards. And depending on which side of a ward a wizard was on determined what they could sense even when concentrating. He huffed out a breath.  There it is again. Probably. Maybe. More guesses. Should I risk my life on guesses? Can I ever look Shyri in the eye again if I don't? Grandfather, why did you have to teach me about doing right? And, as annoying as Thimmy is, he is still just a boy in a very bad place.

Oh, stop dithering! A memory of one of Grandfather's scoldings echoed through his thoughts. Yes, Grandfather. I'm going to try.

"Keep watching that ship," Fawkes ordered his two dogs.  PeyPey and JuJu, who had been staring with him, fetched their blankets and bones. They lay down so they could peek out and chewed.

Fawkes returned to his cabin and started digging in both stowes. It took nearly half an hour for Fawkes to be ready.  Mask in hand, he wore a river lion belt with his pouch and two daggers, one on each hip, and nothing else. Dry clothes were set out on both beds. Coldwater swimming was the plan. Again.

Stepping out of his cabin, he tossed a handful of charcoal into the brazier and moved to the open end of the deck tent.

"Which of you want to swim off to that ship with me and find Thimmy?"

PeyPey jumped up first.  JuJu snorted at having lost and flopped back down.

"PeyPey, I think our first point of attack will be the stern cabin. I can't see how many are on deck but they only have two lanterns. You come up the riverside of the ship. I'm climbing that stern rope."

PeyPey growled and nodded. He stepped out of the deck tent and after a careful look down the town end of the dock, looked back and wagged his tail.

Fawkes rolled his eyes. Of course it's safe. The idiots only care what's coming down their dock. There's no more time for pondering.

Tying his mask into place over his eyes and the rest of his face, he and PeyPey went to Boatessa then into the water. Teeth clenched to keep them from chattering, Fawkes climbed up a wooden pillar until he could peer over the dock.  Three lanterns hung on metal poles along the ship dock leading to the gangway onto the Eddy Rider.  The lanterns shone on half a dozen men lounging about on crates.  In the rain.  They were passing around a bottle and pretending to make merry.  In the rain.  Who would ever believe such a farce?

Luckily, they paid no attention to the water end of the ship dock.  They forget every fisher can swim? Sure, the water's so miserably cold Shyri might never find my bits. but it's not impossible. He climbed onto the dock. Still, no one seemed to notice so he shimmied up the mooring line.

The top deck was no better watched than the dock. The lanterns shone brilliant green through his mask but revealed no one. Conversational voices and soft music came up a hatchway followed by the clatter of tableware and the thunk of an empty tankard.

Dinner and revelry? What luck!

But then he paused. Why are they sounding so jovial with the town on the brink of revolting against their lawless ways?

PeyPey prowled over to him, dripping water but silent on his big paws.  The huge dog looked at the stern cabin door and nodded.  Flattening his ears, he moved to a barrel of coiled rope and lay down.  Resting his chin on the deck, he watched the hatchway and the gangway.  Anyone coming along would never notice him, especially if they were only watching for upright folks.

With no one coming, Fawkes climbed off the rope and onto the ship. Crouching low, he crept to the cabin door.  And swore under his breath. He did not need the faint glow of magic to tell him the lock on the door was a mage lock. The perfectly round keyhole as wide around as his thumb declared itself a mage lock. There was no getting through this door without setting off magical alarms.

There was only one other way into a stern cabin. The windows. There were none on the side he had climbed.  He would check the other side if he had to but he doubted there was one there, either.  These river ships either had small windows on both sides or one larger one at the stern.

Fawkes turned around. PeyPey looked to be taking a nap while he waited for someone to ambush. The drinkers on the dock could not see up on deck the ship without getting up on their toes. All sat about. His luck was holding. He climbed up the ladder built into the cabin wall and froze.

Someone was sleeping on the poop deck. The faint odor of rum wrinkled Fawkes' nose and came from an opened bottle tucked beside a man asleep against the rail.

Tears sprang into Fawkes' eyes. Burning tears. This is one of those bastards who had Grandfather murdered.I hate them all. But, this man is sleeping, maybe even passed out drunk.

Cold feet gets you dead, commit and do. Fawkes sucked in a breath. I know, Grandfather, I know. A sleeping sentry was the very best luck. And the only way to keep him from waking and sounding the alarm is to kill him.

Grandfather and all those scarecrows, but they were scarecrows, not real people. The burning char had burned his eyes and nose when he had finally rushed into the Blackstone Inn. Hands blistered and bleeding from the endless scramble to fill buckets and send them down the lines. Only recognizing the bits of Grandfather's legs that had not burned when the great top of the placards table had been the most painful moment of his life. Losing Grandfather has been the worst pain I have ever known. And this man , this ... Hand was part of that..

Fawkes squeezed his eyes to stop the tears. He needed to see. He cold not falter now and fail Grandfather. Fail Shyri. Rage that had coiled uselessly within him for months surged. The world seemed to slow down as strength trembled into his limbs. In a blurring mix of pain, rage, and numbing strength, he rushed the last three steps. One hand slammed into the chin of the Hand, shoving the man's head back.

The Hand's eyes flew open.

"Gah--," was all he managed to wheeze out as Fawkes drove the dagger in his other hand into the deep fleshy part under the chin and up into the mouth then into the brain. The body tensed and trembled for a few heartbeats before going completely still. The drunken Hand was dead.

Tears poured from Fawkes' eyes as he pulled the dagger out and cleaned it on the dead Hand's shirt.  His hands shook so bad he nearly dropped the dagger twice. Breathing hard, he sheathed the dagger and struggled to regain himself as he took off his mask and cleared the tears from his eyes. Putting the mask back on, he crept back to the ladder and peered down. PeyPey looked up at him and wagged his tail. It was still safe.

Moving back to the far rail, he lay down to look over the edge. The stern window was one of those expensive six sides ones. Expensive did not mean roomy, though. It was only two feet across.

Fawkes wriggled forward until his waist was at the edge and his upper body dangled to the window. From his pouch, he took out a tiny ball of wax and crushed it against the window then smeared it. Rainbow dust spread about, glittered for a moment then faded without causing a glow. No hidden magic.

Working open a cabin window took time, especially as he was trying to keep quiet, but he managed. The well-made window swung inward. Directly below him was a roomy bed. Tied to the bed with his limbs sprawled apart and completely naked was someone who looked very much like Thimmy.