Chapter 4:

  The morning had settled into routine. The Admiral had met with the helmsman, working out their route to the isnd nation of the Samanders, Lagrias. They could not take the old trade routes, as Demon ships had moved in, their blockade started almost a decade ago. The safest route took them into Sylph territory, but rumours were flying that the Sylphs were not allowing anyone to pass, as the war between the Demons and the Seliniak people, the Grand Admiral’s people, heated up. The Sylphs mercantile empire required them to be able to run goods, and so they kept their waters free of fighting.

  “We could take the old pirate routes,” Gregors suggested, drawing his fat finger down a more east-veering route. “Nothing’s come out that way in five or so years.” The Admiral made a face.

  “The st crew to come out of there cimed Sirens haunt the waters.” She moved a few blue tokens to the area she had been warned about. “The captain of the Lance was not one for whimsy. I believe his tale.”

  “It’s Sirens or Demons. And the Sirens cannot be everywhere. There are small isnds on this path with fresh water and occasionally fruit. It’s a safer trek.”

  The Admiral examined the map and the tokens they had id out to represent known ship movements as well as blockades and battle zones. Each different coloured wooden block represented an ally, enemy or other threat.

  “Set course,” she sighed. She took notes on their navigation chart. “Adjust the heading.” The helmsman nodded briskly.

  Ael sat after he left. She dipped a quill in ink and began sketching. She imagined the horrors of the Sirens; hair blue and full of seaweeds, naked blue bodies with teeth in their hands, feral eyes full of madness. She sketched the monsters she had been warned about, and then began to write out ways to avoid being eaten by them. They would all have to plug their ears with cotton and wax once they entered the infested waters. She would have to drill the safety and operations signs into the crew, especially those newer on board.

  She wondered if the Samanders would consent to being tied up in their bunks. If the Sirens found out they had Samanders on board, they would certainly drown them all. Fire and Water creatures were not known to mix peacefully. The lizards the Samanders were named after died if they drank too much or got too wet.

  A shrill shrieking sound broke Ael from her drawing. She pced the sketch down, wiped the ink from her fingers on a rag, and headed onto the deck to find the source of the sound. The sunlight was harsh after being in her cabin, and she had to squint at the sudden change. She heard wood cttering and turned to try and figure out what was happening.

  There was some kind of training obstacle course set up across the deck, made of buckets, brooms and crates. The children were trying to navigate the obstacles as the deck shifted, altering their bance. The older of the two, who looked to be no more than six, was the one who had shrieked. Outside, it was clearly a happy sound as he jumped over a raised broom and nded firmly on his feet. The other, smaller boy was looking at the obstacles with a studious, serious expression.

  “That’s too hard,” he compined after a long moment. “I can’t jump as high as Alejo!”

  “Mommy never said you had to jump, Egaz,” the countess replied. Ael looked over and saw that the countess was tending to her husband. He had a gash on his head and she was calmly pulling splinters from his palm. He grimaced as she used thin metal tweezers to remove a stuck piece. “Don’t fuss,” she chided. “You know as well as I do that it will get infected if we don’t take it out.” Ael turned her attention back to the children, her stomach twisting for a reason she could not pin down. Perhaps her cycle was coming early. Or perhaps it was watching the younger of the two climb up onto a crate as high as he was tall and then leap off it. But their parents were calm watching as the boy nded hard on the deck. He stood up and thrust his hands up into the air.

  “I’m not hurt!” He called out triumphantly. He began to giggle and gave chase to his older brother.

  After a moment more of watching the chaos of two children at py, she felt someone come up beside her. Epelda y her hand on the Admiral’s arm gently to get her attention.

  “Big Samander is a big baby,” Epelda signed with a mischievous expression. The Admiral stifled her own smirk, on the off chance the Samanders looked up. “Mother-Samander asked to set this up to teach them all sea-legs.” The Admiral nodded, a faint smile pying on her lips. Nereida was clever. “She is good, Admiral. Already has sea-legs.”

  “She said she has been on a ship before,” the Admiral signed. “Any other seen- things?” She meant observations, but could not remember the right sign.

  Before Epelda could answer, the older of the two boys came running up to them, a big grin on his face. He waved at Epelda and gave the Admiral a little half-bow, which he tried to do at the same time and ended up hitting himself in the face. Epelda giggled even as the Admiral shushed her. One should not giggle at heirs; they tended to be stuck up and know creative ways to make life difficult. But the little boy did not seem upset by the giggle. He grinned, showing his missing front tooth. His eyes were blue-grey storms like his mother.

  “Hi!” He looked at Epelda, not at the Admiral. Then, with surprisingly fluid movements, he signed to her. “My name is,” he paused to finger spell out his name, speaking as he did so. “Alejo. Can you come to py?”

  They both stared at him, though Epelda recovered first. She poked the Admiral’s side, less than subtly asking for permission. Ael nodded once, and Epelda grinned, signing back to the boy.

  “You’re it.” And she took off in a gentle jog. He giggled and ran after her, slipping a little as he went. Ael leaned against the wall, watching Epelda py with the two noble born boys, the biggest grin on her face. She smiled watching the precious scene. Epelda never got to be carefree when she was that young. This would be good for her. The younger one was signing something, but Ael could not quite catch what, because he was jumping up and down. But it made Epelda ugh.

  The sound of a door closing caught the Admiral off guard. She turned and saw Nereida standing only a few steps from her. Her husband was nowhere to be seen. She had likely sent him below deck to sulk.

  “Your children know the hand-nguage?” The Admiral hadn’t meant to jump straight to it, but the sound of Epelda ughing had overridden her caution.

  “Not fluently, but enough to get by.” The countess came closer. There was a sad look on her face, one of grief. “On the first ship I served on, I learned the basics. After that, a friend taught us more.” She closed her eyes. “Egaz is named for her. She kept us alive when hope seemed lost.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ael said softly, recognizing the grief of a lost friend. “I didn’t mean to bring you grief.” Nereida smiled at her, a soft, watery smile that did not dispel the tears in her eyes completely.

  “Some grief never leaves you completely. But thank you.” She leaned against the wall, a hair’s breadth away from Ael. The two women watched the children py in companionable silence.