"There's a sail on the horizon. It looks like you got through to Ginny and he's been pulling strings."
Shadith winced as she worked the comb into a serious tangle. She continued teasing at the knot while she thought over what he'd said. "Not more trouble from the Powers?"
He fluttered his fingers, an inadequate answer but obviously all she was going to get.
"Hmm. Aste?"
He blinked slowly, coming back from somewhere, wherever it was he went on these occasions of absence; small changes eddied across his fine-boned, angular face, but even with her Talent she had no idea what they meant. When he spoke, though, his words were prosaic enough.
"About the same. Still under, fever's no better no worse."
"Don't need to ask about Rohant, I can hear him snoring from here." She dragged impatiently at the comb, swore as it tore out a clump of hair. "I suppose I should take a look, find out who they are for sure."
"If you wish." He contrived to be suddenly more present. "Consider this also, they'll pass us by unless we let them know we're here."
"If we want them to know. All right, oh god, I hope they have a doctor onboard." She reached and settled into the hawk, got a firm hold on him and sent him winging out to sea. Riding him was even more of a problem this time because Rohant was still sleeping; though only marginally aware of her in the hawk, he had less control of his basic emotions; she shuddered under a blast of concentrated lust that shook her to her heels.
To the north of the wander of sandy barrier islands splayed along the curve of the Wetlands, an old three-master was tacking slowly south.
Leaving in place a thread of control to keep the bird circling over the ship, she dropped into the ship's cat, a lazy torn with one ear and a truncated tail, big enough and certainly tough enough to eat the average dog. He fought her with every nerve in him, nearly went into convulsions in his struggle to throw her off. The men working the ship around him ignored his cavorting; apparently they were used to his fits.
She subdued him and sent him prowling about the deck while she listened to the crew.
They weren't talking much; one of them, a boy, he couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen, had a pipe as long as his arm and was producing sounds that approximated music, a lively bit of noise that made the pulling and hauling easier. Another lot of the misbegotten. I wouldn't want to meet a one of them in a dark alley. Bright alley either. Smugglers, I suppose, if they're not from… no… no. Not on the side of the Powers, not them. All right, all right, who's in charge… who signed you on, lazy fourfoot, you bloody old mangler?
She sent the cat scooting up a steep ladder onto a smaller deck that was built over a substructure of some kind. There were three locals standing in a loose group. One of them was a big sloppy man with a massive torso and long arms, a stained and raveled mustache and a nose that wandered a finger's width off center; he was scanning the coast through a crude spyglass.
"M'tika!" The shout came from the top of the midmast. She'd been thinking and reacting in interlingue having waked in that mindset, so for a moment it was just sounds she heard. "M'tika, Wa Tipli." Her mind shuddered and clanged over to Awenakis as the watch yelled some more look-looks, more captain-captains, and went on: "That the bird, in't it? T' one you say look for. And in't it raat over us goin round and round like it knew who we was?" The cat twitched nervously as the hoarse voice came down through the bulging canvas, the whining shrouds.
The three men stared up at the circling hawk. The Tipli lifted the spyglass, focused it on the bird. "It a strange 'un, all raat. Have a look." He passed the glass over.
The second man was short and square; he'd a petulant pouty face with bulging eyes and a full red mouth. He snatched the glass, set it to his eye. After some fidgeting and focusing, he stared for a long moment at the bird then lowered the glass. "That's the one, for sure. It matches the description." His voice suited his body, it was high and whiny and dry enough to hurt an ordinary ear. "They must be around here somewhere, if they're still alive."
The third man was slight, neatly made, with a thin intelligent face and a pointed gray beard, the first chin hair she'd seen on a local. He, wore the neat twill jumpsuit and the bronze arm bands of a high caste doctor, Kisar at least. She sighed and felt a weight drop off her shoulders when she saw that. He looked up at the hawk but waved away the glass when the second man offered it to him. "The question is, where did it come from?" His voice was a pleasant rumble that sounded more suited to the burly shipmaster. "Lipatchin, ask your man if he got a line on it."
That gave Shadith an idea. She withdrew from the cat, let him go streaking off to hide in a coil of rope, took hold of Sassa and brought him swooping down the length of the ship, screaming as he passed. She took him in a last circle, then sent him darting toward the sandy islet. He wanted to land beside Rohant, but she wouldn't let him; she made him hover briefly over the islet, then sent him winging back to the ship. Once again he circled the topsails, flew to the islet, flew back.
The third time he reached the ship, the crew was launching a longboat. When the boat was in the water and the men in it saw him leave again, the boy played him a rollicking salute, then launched into a quickbeat as the sailors started rowing along the line Sassa'd given them.
Shadith let the hawk come where he wanted to be and went back to combing her hair. She glanced at Rohant who was awake and sitting up, watching her. "They're on their way," she said.
"What? Who?"
"Some locals. Part of Aste's lot. I think."
"Think? Dio!" Eyes glazed, each breath a wheezing rasp, shudders running through his big body, he got to his feet and went to stand looking out to sea, waiting for the longboat to appear, his hands clasped behind him, his fingers curled about her stunner.
Kikun eeled through the brush and squatted beside her; he yawned, glanced out at sea, played in the sand a minute, then slanted a look at her. "Aste is restless. He feels hotter to my hand."
Shadith moved her shoulders impatiently, unzipped a thighpocket and squeezed the comb into it. "I'm not going to give him any more of my stuff. God knows what it's doing to him, sure not me. There's a doctor on that ship. Let him handle the fever." She whizzed the zipper shut and got to her feet, "Anyway, here they are."
The four sailors beached the longboat and squatted by its prow, the boy stayed where he was, the short square man from the upper deck swung over the gunnel and came striding up the sand to stop in front of Rohant. He stared up at the Ciocan, looked past him at Shadith, then Kikun. "There should be another," he said abruptly.
'You're got a name? Who are you?" His voice an impatient growl, Rohant folded his arms across his chest and looked down his nose at the newcomer.
"I am Shipayupal. Where is the fourth one?"
Rohant thought that over another minute. Standing behind him and a few paces to the left, Shadith saw his body tense as he suppressed a cough. "Name him," he rasped.
"What?"
"You heard." The Ciocan's voice was scraping bottom now, but he ignored that and pressed on. "You want to know what happened to him, give me a name."
"Happened to him, what do you mean happened to him?"
No uayton
"Name first. Tells me what side you're on, fool." Shipayupal glared at Rohant, then he shrugged. "Asteplikota."
"Wait here. Kikun, come with me." Rohant swung round and strode off.
Shipayupal gazed tightlipped after them, then turn his eyes on Shadith. Her first impulse was to follow Rohant's lead, to challenge him and make him take them on their terms not his. But the Ciocan was tired, sick and riding Dyslaera instinct, not using his brain all that much. And playing Ginny's game. But aren't we all. Huh. "He's looking at me. Wonder what he wants? I don't think I like this local, I don't care what side he's on. He's a handler, that's all he is, tenlper boy working the edges, out for what he can get. Perfect soulmate for Ginny the Creep.