Inti’s Watcher

  Razan sat at his table, taking notes as he watched how the other groups survived their treks.

  The group who had started the avalanche was Fleeting. They’d tried to follow it down the mountain on sleds, riding the tail, and had managed it for long enough. The group had brought climbing gear which included picks, and used those to slow their sleds to a safe speed.

  In general, not much entertaining happened. River crossings were the most interesting thing, followed by animal interactions. No one was charged or mauled, and only one person nearly drowned.

  The rostari put a lot of attention on the scenery this week, showing off the beauty of the mountains and forests. It was indeed quite beautiful. It didn't particularly interest Razan.

  He was interrupted halfway through by a knock at his door. Having become slightly bored, he got up and went to answer it instead of just throwing something at the motion detector.

  Sophie smiled at him. “Food has been delivered for supper, if you’re hungry.”

  “Thank you,” he said with a bow, then followed her to the kitchen.

  Marie and Peter were already at the table, bowls of soup in front of them.

  “Have you seen how the Foxes fared yet?” Marie asked.

  “I have,” he answered, taking a bowl to his seat. “They are… disorganized.”

  “How?” Peter asked.

  “I believe the new man resents having Chimeg as a leader,” Razan said. “He argued every order, even reasonable ones which everyone else agreed with. I believe Chimeg is going to find a real crossbow bolt and shoot him soon.”

  Marie grimaced. “I've dealt with that sort before. I wish her luck. And the Russian woman?”

  “She doesn't seem to know how to walk,” he said slowly. “For most of the day she was either running or standing still. It appears she had to move until she couldn't. She respects their leader when an order is given, but Chimeg doesn't seem to know what to do with her.”

  “Am I like that?” Sophie asked, shrinking in her chair.

  “Sometimes,” Peter said.

  “No,” Marie said thoughtfully. “You’ve always had the most energy out of us, but you know how to wait for the right moment to use it.”

  Sophie relaxed. Peter opened his mouth to say something, but closed it at a glare from Marie, going back to his soup.

  Razan looked at Sophie. “Your energy comes from joy. Her energy seemed… manic in origin.”

  “I’ll have to watch her,” Marie decided. “Anything else?”

  “Not particularly. Mateo was a good second-in-command for Antoni, and he is a good second-in-command for Chimeg. I believe he would not enjoy leading.”

  “How did the Stars do?” Sophie asked. “And the Seabirds? Oh, how did we do, can you tell?”

  Razan smiled faintly. “I have not seen either of them yet. I believe we did well.”

  “May I watch them with you?” she asked.

  “After I finish my soup, certainly.”

  Marie appeared in Ebba’s room with the usual blue flash. She frowned at the large pile of blankets and pillows that made the witch’s bed, trying to determine if there was a person in there.

  The pile shifted slightly, a ghostly hand coming out the top. “Toll, please.”

  Marie smiled, moving closer before sitting against the wall. “Alas, I have nothing with which to pay.”

  “I can think of a few things you could give me which would only take your time,” Ebba said, retracting her hand.

  “What might those be?” Marie asked innocently. “And more importantly, what’s the exchange rate?”

  “Worry not, the exchange will be very fair.” There was some more shifting, and her head appeared near Marie’s knee, which she then used as a pillow. “Full-day contests are among my least favorite.”

  “Don't have the stamina for them?” Marie guessed.

  “Never have. I don't think I’ve ever gone through a full one without my feet giving up near the end.” She sighed, getting comfortable.

  “Well, this contest, long as it was, gave me the solution to one problem,” Marie said. She pulled the big piece of gold Sophie had found out of a pocket and held it out.

  Ebba frowned, taking it. “Is this gold?”

  “Aye, as far as I can tell. A lovely, shiny rock made of solid gold, for you.”

  Slowly, Ebba pushed herself up into a sitting position. This made the blankets slide off her bare form, which she paid no heed. She turned the gold in her hand, confused. “Why?”

  “Because you can't wear a ring.”

  “Oh. Oh, yes, I see,” Ebba said. “Now I get Louis something, and the circle will be complete.”

  Marie nodded. “Think it’ll work?”

  “If whatever I get is outrageous enough,” Ebba shrugged, laying back down again. “I don't know. I don't mind him showing you some preference. This relationship can't always be perfectly balanced, and I’d rather be a bit outside anyhow. While I value you both, I’ve never wanted full commitment.”

  “I understand, but I think he’s worried people will see the ring he gave me and assume he and I are married.”

  “You are married.”

  “Aye, but he and you are married, too, and there’s nothing to show for it. There’s no immediate sign.”

  “I don't want an immediate sign! I want no sign at all!”

  “Which is why I got you a rock,” Marie said. “And why you’ll get him something completely impractical. Talk everything over when you give it to him, and hopefully he’ll get it through his skull that you’re- we’re both happy the way things are.”

  “But I hate serious talking,” Ebba grimaced, then smiled faintly, turning the rock in her hand again before setting it carefully next to the wall. “Completely impractical… Giving him a royal scepter would be hilarious.”

  “Yes, it would,” Marie agreed, already imagining how much fun he’d have with a fancy golden stick.

  “Tomorrow I’ll figure out which country to steal one from.” She closed her eyes, making herself comfortable again. “Oh, and thank you. A lump of gold to keep in my pocket is perfect for me.”

  “Of course. I saw it and immediately thought of you.”

  “In what way?”

  “It’s flimsy and heavier than it looks, while somehow being the most expensive thing around,” Marie said. She grinned at the glare this earned her.

  “Watch what you drink for the next week or so,” Ebba recommended.

  “I thought you were against drugging people without their knowledge.”

  “Damn, that’s true. I’ll have to find some other way to retaliate…” She looked up at her, all annoyance gone. “Are you staying all night?”

  “If you’ll have me.”

  Ebba laughed softly, pulling herself up to lean on Marie’s shoulder. “I already have you, pirate.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “No, witch, you accepted my offering, you’re mine,” Marie said, turning until their lips touched.

  After a moment, Ebba moved away. “I’m sorry, but you gave it to me with no request or condition.”

  “You’re right; how silly of me.” Marie pushed her down onto the blankets, moving over her. “Let me remedy that.”

  Everyone on the ship did their best to not watch as Foxes’ door opened, and the group walked out. Chimeg and Mateo walked normally away, but the two new people hesitated by the door. Before they could decide what to do, Max and Kaliana walked over, greeting them and welcoming them to the ship.

  “Is that what usually happens?” Peter asked, shuffling a deck of cards.

  Grace nodded. “It worried some people when you were taken in by the witch’s group instead of Max. But you turned out all right in the end.”

  “By ‘some people’ do you mean Fael?” Peter guessed, dealing.

  “Yep,” she said with a grin. “It’s pretty much the only reason he introduced us right away. Wanted to make sure the younger members of your group had some good, moral acquaintances who wouldn’t corrupt you.”

  He frowned. “Nali seems pretty moral.”

  “She makes alcohol. Nice strong stuff, too,” Grace said, picking up her cards. “Nope, these are terrible, deal again.”

  “I refuse,” Peter said, checking his cards. “Actually, I take that back. Want me to try again?”

  She smiled. “It’s against the rules.”

  “Not when I play with Marie,” Peter said. “If all parties involved formally agree a change is needed, the dealer may deal again.”

  “Why doesn’t it surprise me that’s a rule she’d have?”

  As he collected the cards, Max came over, leading the two new Fox members. The man looked cautious, but the woman’s eyes were brighter and more hyper than Sophie’s had ever been.

  “Grace, Peter, I’m glad you’re here,” Max said, smiling pleasantly. “These are Jaques and Tanya, Chimeg’s new team members.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Peter said, tipping his hat to them.

  “Yeah, welcome,” Grace said with a smile.

  Max turned to the Foxes. “These are Peter, in Drifters, and Grace, in Seabirds.”

  “Nice to meet you, very nice,” Tanya said, bouncing.

  “Yes, very nice,” Jaques agreed, smiling charmingly at Grace. He then looked quizzically at Peter. “Is that a cowboy outfit?”

  “Yes, sir, it is,” Peter drawled.

  Max made an excuse and left, assuring the new people he was available to answer any questions.

  Tanya was staring with wide eyes at Peter’s poncho. “That looks very comfortable, what is it?” she asked, reaching out to touch the fringe.

  Quick as lightning, Grace leaned across the table and slapped her hand away. “Hey, nope, that’s mine.”

  Tanya froze, then beamed, giggling. “Sorry! I won't touch!”

  “Are you two… together?” Jaques asked, looking Peter over.

  Peter shuffled his cards as Grace answered in the affirmative. All his life, Peter had been around people who disliked him because of where his parents had been born. He was practically an expert in the dismissive attitude, the faintly sneering glances, the way some were annoyed he existed. Jaques, with light brown hair and green eyes, obviously believed his heritage was superior to Peter’s.

  “Where are you from?” Tanya asked. “I’m from Russia. Jaques is from Canada. Both very cold places.”

  “Texas,” Peter said.

  “I’m from an island called Tasmania,” Grace said. “It gets properly cold sometimes. I died in a burglary gone wrong. You?”

  “Hunting accident,” Jaques said proudly. “Didn't quite kill a wild boar, and it came after me.”

  Peter nodded. “I was saving my cattle from coyotes. Got mauled.”

  “That sounds terrifying!” Tanya said. “I don't remember how I died, or anything else.”

  “That’s not good,” Grace told her. “Have you checked if there’s any damage somewhere?”

  “No, I don't want to,” Tanya said seriously, her eyes almost impossibly large. “Since I don't remember anything, every day is a new day of discovery!”

  Jaques was paying no attention to her. “I don't believe you got mauled by a coyote.”

  Smiling blandly, Peter waved with his metal hand. “Tell me how I lost this, then.”

  Grace frowned at him, confused and worried.

  Tanya gasped, staring at his prosthetic. “That is amazing.”

  “I don’t know, but not in a coyote attack,” Jaques said. “Coyotes don’t maul people.”

  “What does it matter?” Tanya asked, putting her hands on the table to lean in, staring at the hand. “How does it work?”

  “Magic,” Peter answered.

  At this point Grace was visibly uncomfortable. Her posture was withdrawn, and she was watching him like each lie was a betrayal. Unfortunately, Jaques noticed this. Fortunately, before he could comment on it, Marie and Louis walked over, casually holding hands.

  “Hello, and welcome to the ship,” Louis said with a flourishing bow. “Louis Goldtooth, at your service.”

  Tanya giggled, copying the bow. “Tanya. I don’t know my last name.”

  “Choose a new one,” Louis suggested happily. “No one here would recognize your old one, and what good is a name if no one recognizes it?”

  This seemed to stun her, a new world of possibilities opening up behind her eyes.

  “Jaques Lemire,” the Canadian said, bowing somewhat more formally.

  “Marie,” Marie said slowly, thinking something over. She looked at Louis. “I am sorry, my love, but I refuse to take that name. Or either of your other two. LeFleur I must remain.”

  “Perfectly understandable,” Louis said.

  “Are you in the same group?” Tanya asked, looking between Peter and Marie. “Your clothes are the same colors.”

  “We are,” Marie answered with a kind smile. Then she turned to Peter. “Have you seen my samurai?”

  “Yes, I saw him go into the paint room,” Peter told her.

  She nodded, nodded to the others, and walked away.

  Jaques, who had been watching her with mild displeasure, finally spoke up when she was out of earshot. “Where is she from?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Haiti,” Louis said, his smile turning challenging.

  Grace suddenly stood up. “Tanya, let me introduce you to Sophie and Rani.” She took her arm and practically ran to the climbing room.

  Jaques ignored them, still looking at Louis. “Do you know what they did to-”

  “Boy, assume I know everything,” Louis said. Peter heard his accent change, indicating he’d gone from speaking English to French.

  “If you do, that takes you from ignorant fool to traitor for holding its hand,” Jaques said coldly.

  “And?” Louis asked. “Having decided this, what would you like to do? What is your plan? If all you have are words against me and my wife, I have better things to do than listen, so I won’t.”

  Jaques glared. Louis smiled back, completely unafraid. Peter finally started to understand why Marie liked him.

  “I will consider you an enemy to our race,” Jaques finally decided.

  Louis patted his shoulder, going back to English. “You do that, lad.”

  Jaques slapped his hand off. Louis punched him in the throat. Jaques dropped to a knee then bent over, choking, and Louis took the seat across from Peter.

  “And how’ve you been doing?” he asked cheerfully. “How’s the arm? It took Ebba a month or two to figure out what type of prosthetic to wear in various situations to be comfortable all day.”

  Peter glanced at the Canadian wheezing on the floor, then looked back at Louis. “It’s fine; the lining is what keeps giving me trouble. I feel like I need a way to change it without taking the whole thing off.”

  “You can ask for things to be made for you,” Louis suggested. “That’s how we get new options for things; someone asked for something specific. Everything from bread to paint to soap has been added upon request.”

  “I might do that next week,” Peter decided. “I still haven’t gone through all the current options. Maybe what I need already exists.”

  As Louis agreed, Ebba strolled over. She crossed her arms, watching Jaques cough.

  “Welcome to the ship,” she said in an amused voice.

  Jaques sat up, looking at her with watery eyes. “Thank you,” he rasped out.

  She offered a hand to help him up. “Ebba. It may or may not be nice to meet you, depending on why Louis hit you.”

  “Jaques.” He reached out to take her hand, stopped when he saw the old burn scars covering it, then carefully accepted the help. “He took offense that I do not like his wife.”

  Ebba nodded slowly and seriously until she caught Louis’ eye, at which point she broke down laughing. Not soft laughter, either; she apparently found those words absolutely hilarious.

  “May I ask what you find so amusing?” Jaques asked carefully.

  “It’s best if you don’t,” Louis told him. “You wouldn’t like the answer.”

  “Don’t say that, dear,” Ebba snickered. “I encourage questions. Tell me, Jaques, how much is the answer worth to you?”

  “Worth?” he echoed.

  Ebba grinned like a wolf. “All information has value. Every answer has its price. How much money would you be willing to give up to learn the joke?”

  “She also sells drugs and alcohol,” Louis told him.

  “Not just that,” Ebba said, offended. “Anything you need, anything you want, I can get. For a reasonable price, of course.”

  “Ah,” Jaques said flatly, understanding Ebba’s business. He looked her over warily, then shrugged. “I don’t know what information is worth here.”

  “Make an offer,” Ebba suggested, moving to rest her arms on the top of Louis’ head.

  “Two… credits?”

  “Far too low. You insult me.”

  “Five?”

  Peter sighed. “Twenty.”

  Her ice blue eyes shot to him. “Much better. Still too low.”

  “Twenty-five?” Jaques tried.

  “Are you bidding together to split the cost, or individually?”

  Peter glanced at Jaques and received a faintly disdainful glance in return. “Individually.”

  “Yes. Twenty-eight,” Jaques said.

  Peter hesitated, but at the end of the day, he really wanted to know. “Forty.”

  Ebba grinned. “Sold, unless there’s a higher offer.”

  “I don’t have that much,” Jaques said.

  “Pity,” she said, then slid around the table to whisper into Peter’s ear. “I’m Louis’ wife, too.”

  Peter frowned, about to object, and then his brain figured out the “too”. He looked at Louis, who had his usual smile on.

  “How…”

  “I told you you wouldn’t like the answer,” Louis said pleasantly.

  Ebba sat down. “Any new questions, naturally, will be answered with an additional fee.”

  Peter looked between them, trying to figure out how that… worked. A man having two wives wasn't a foreign concept, but given the two women involved, Peter… decided he shouldn't ever ask.

  “I doubt he’s impolite enough to pursue the subject,” Louis told Ebba, his smile never changing.

  “Yeah, I won’t,” Peter said, slowly getting to his feet. “I should… get into place for the review.”

  Ebba laughed again.

  “I need to find Tanya,” Jaques decided, rolling his eyes at them all.

  “Lovely meeting you,” Ebba said. She grinned at Peter. “And a pleasure doing business with you.”

  “I’m sure.”