"We?" Magiere asked.
Down the dock behind the portly baker came Loni, walking toward them at a more sedate pace. The wind blew back his long hair, exposing his ears and making him appear strange and otherworldly with his narrow frame, long, triangular face, and large amber eyes. Loni walked up and took her hand.
"Thank you," he said seriously, his manner completely altered from their last meeting. "What you are doing will be greatly appreciated by all."
Only slightly moved by his words, Magiere pulled her hand away.
"I'm not doing it for you."
Undaunted, he nodded. "I thank you anyway."
"Yes, yes," Karlin said. He turned pointedly toward Leesil and made a half bow, as Leesil often used when dramatically charming his way into someone's graces. "We thank you both. There is no way to express how much. Once more, you have come to Miiska's aid."
He clapped Leesil on the back and stepped up to embrace Magiere. She noticed her partner was glowering at Loni, who seemed oblivious, but before she could consider the matter further, Karlin wrapped her in a bear hug.
His large, ale cask body was comforting. She had no wish leave him or Miiska. He held her for a moment and then pulled back to face her.
"We'll return as soon as we can," she said, trying to smile with encouragement. "Bank draft in hand and ready to start rebuilding."
He patted her shoulder, and a tear gathered in his right eye.
"Oh, you'll need this," he said, and held out a small pouch. "Traveling money. It's the last of our community funds, but your trip is an investment. No, no," he added when she backed up. "You'll need food and lodging and who knows what else. Take it… or I'll just give it to Leesil."
Magiere glanced at her partner. The community purse in Leesil's care?
"I'd best keep it," she said.
"Pardon me?" Leesil asked with a frown.
In truth, they needed the money, and she took it with a nod of thanks as the skiff pulled up to the ladder hanging down from the dock. Chap whined once, pushed his head into the back of Karlin's knee, and before anyone moved to collect luggage, he jumped off the dock and down into the skiff. The small vessel rocked sharply, and its two rowers began cursing. Chap merely sat down between the benches and stared up at everyone, his tail thumping a hollow rhythm against the skiff's bottom.
Leesil looked down at Chap and back to Magiere. "Well, at least we don't have to talk him into going," he joked.
Or you, Magiere thought. As she helped him gather the chest, she noticed Karlin's attention focused down the dock.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Oh, Poyesk is leaning on his warehouse door, watching us," he answered.
Indeed, following Karlin's gaze, Magiere saw the spindly man on the shore.
"He does own a warehouse. He might be here on business," she said.
"Perhaps," Karlin answered slowly. "But he was against our even showing you that offer from Bela. The last thing he wants is competition from a community-owned warehouse."
The two sailors helped passengers load their belongings. The schooner, filled with cargo for return to Bela, had simply stopped at Miiska out of habit to pick up possible fares. Besides Magiere and Leesil, three other men waited with little baggage. From their dress, she took them for unemployed dockworkers.
Magiere suddenly wished Karlin hadn't come to see them off. It only made things harder.
"Well…" she said, uncertain how to finish.
"Good-bye, Karlin," Leesil said. "We'll see you again, soon enough."
"Yes." Karlin smiled. "Soon. Off with you both. Chap's waiting with his tail in the air."
Lighthearted banter made things easier. Magiere nodded to Loni as well and climbed down into the boat. Leesil followed.
The sailors untied the docking lines and shoved off. Magiere knelt down near the side of the skiff and ran her fingers through the blue-gray water. It was bitingly cold and refreshing, drifting past in the autumn morning air. As the gently rocking boat moved out to the waiting schooner, the harbor appeared to open wide to the ocean. The cloud-pillowed sky looked larger than it did from the streets of Miiska, and a twinge of guilt needled Magiere for being so hard on Leesil in her thoughts. There was something to be said for the journey, and some small part of her-a very small part-might find pleasure in at least these first few days at sea. She watched Leesil sitting next to her, enjoying the sea air as well, strands of yellow-white hair fluttering out from beneath his scarf's edges. He appeared lost in thought, watching the dock grow smaller behind them. Ahead, furled sails, masts, and rigging covered the sky as they approached the schooner.
"What are you thinking?" she asked.
"I'm thinking how much I hate that elf," he answered. "Who exactly does he think he is to us, grabbing your hand like that?"
She shook her head. "Well, we may never have to see him again. We may never see Miiska again."
"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed. "Of course we will."
"You know what we're facing."
He paused. "How much money did Karlin give you?"
"I haven't counted it. Why?"
"As soon as we reach Bela, I need to visit a decent smith's shop and have some new blades made."
Magiere glared at him.
"Yes, I'm listening, and I know what we're facing," he answered.
A change came over his face as he stared toward the docks. His eyes lost focus and his thin brows lowered as if he contemplated something inside himself with weighted awareness. There was no hint of a wry smile on his lips. His jaw muscles clenched slightly, and he appeared stern, without his warmth and innate humor.
"I have a few ideas… to make sure we come back alive," he said.
Magiere found herself both apprehensive at his expression and surprised at his words.
"So you want to come back?" she asked.
His slanted brows wrinkled in puzzlement, and the moment of cold withdrawal washed from his features. "Of course. Why would you even ask me that?"
She shook her head, feeling a little better but determined not to let her guard down. Let them stay in their current state and be nothing more, no matter what he, or she, might think to the contrary. It was better to have one close companion than… something more… bloodless and buried in a grave.
The long, two-masted schooner bobbed on the waves beside them as deckhands dropped a rope ladder. One of the skiff sailors grabbed her trunk, placed it on his shoulder, and climbed up effortlessly.
"You'd better have that letter from Bela ready for the captain," Leesil said. "He may not be overjoyed at the prospect of stopping for five passengers only to find out two of them, and their dog, are traveling for free."
She hadn't considered that. "Can you carry Chap and still scale that ladder?"
He grinned. "You'd be amazed what I can scale."
"No, I wouldn't," she said frowning. They never talked about his past before they'd met, but during their battle with Rashed and his band, she'd realized Leesil was much more than a vagabond thief. How much more, she was still uncertain.
"Chap, up!" Leesil barked, and he bent over with his back to the dog.
Chap vaulted up, and his forelegs hooked over Leesil's shoulders. Leesil quickly climbed the rope ladder with one hand behind his back to support Chap's haunches.
Once up, he peered over the deck rail and said quite seriously, "Are you ready?"
"No," Magiere answered, but she grasped the rope ladder and followed.
Leesil's poorly hidden enthusiasm drained rapidly over the following four nights.
As much as he relished the idea of fresh sea air and the rushing wedge of white water slipping past the prow of the wind-bound schooner, sea travel was new to him. By the second midday, the queasiness in his stomach grew to full nausea. Saliva continuously filled his mouth between intermittent dry spells, and food was about as appealing as the slop bucket the cook had just poured over the side. Perhaps there was a reason his mother's people didn't travel.