Four

Rosie was up in the morning in the time just after dawn, while Ajax snored on.

            She went to the galley of the ship, took the food they gave her (bread and a spot of wine for seasickness), and walked up to the main deck, where men were swabbing and climbing the rigging in a diligent routine. She went right to the prow, dodging around ropes and crates until she was at the edge of the ship, just to the right of the front, and could watch the hull slice through waves grey with the morning and sparkling under the light of the still-weak sun.

            She tore off a chunk of the bread they had given her. “What will sustain me and bring me life as I voyage across the unlivable home of Arieda,” she said, letting the piece fall into the waves. Then she poured out a drought of the wine and said, “What will flow, fiery through my veins and quench my thirst as I voyage across the undrinkable home of Arieda.”

            The sacrifices were small and late, many hours after the ship had left port, but she hoped that the sea goddess would not mind. So many forgot to show their reverence, she knew. So many preferred to keep what should be sacrificed to themselves.

            Her duty done, she sat for a while on the prow, letting her feet dangle off the edge and watched the waves deepen to a color as dark as the wine, as the sun climbed higher into the sky and beat down with more and more of the noontime heat.

            She wondered if she should have woken Ajax Alterra and offered him to come with her. After all, perhaps the gods favored him because he, in turn favored the gods.

            She didn’t think so, though. She could tell from the way he had looked, frightened like a little, white rabbit when she had first looked him in the face.

            Plus she preferred to keep to herself, anyway. Bringing him would have drained and aggravated her. And he would not have given Arieda the proper respect with all his dumb questions. No, she would have to deal with him later, sure, but right now, she could just sit and feel the sea spray on her face, and be content, despite the shitstorm she knew she had started. But one thing at a time.

 

            The sun was high in the sky when she returned to their cabin, stopping off again at the galley to grab him some food.

            She tossed it his way, a hunk of bread and a bit of an orange to keep him from sickening, when she returned. He was rubbing his eyes still, though, thankfully, his mouth was closed.

            She settled down on the small patch of floor they had in their cabin, and continued to say nothing, quite content to just sit and be silent a little more.

Sometime after Ajax Alterra had finished his food, Rosie turned her head from the patch of wall that she had been contemplating to him and offered him some of the wine she had saved from that morning. He took it from her and took a big gulp, though the face he then made indicated his immediate regret of that action. It was quite sour and cheap as far as wines went, but Rosie had never been terribly picky.

They passed the bottle back and forth for five more minutes before she decided it was high time she spoke.

“Well, this is s**t,” she said. Making conversation about their tiny cabin and impromptu situation. That was reasonable.

Ajax Alterra snorted quite emphatically.

“What?” she said.

“I mean, it is kind of all your fault,” he replied. Rosie raised her eyebrows. “You were the one who got us both into this.”

She choked a little on her sip. “I saved your life.”

“And why the hell did you even do that?”

She thought about telling him, then, why she had. She seriously considered it, as she picked a bit at the floor and pursed her lips. But she knew that telling him would only make things worse. So she chose to keep her silence. 

“I mean, what will happen to you?” he asked, “If you are caught.”

“What does it matter to you?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I am just curious, that is all.”

She didn’t speak for several moments. “I don’t know,” she said at last, shrugging. “I’m not even sure if he’ll kill me.” Hunter had never done anything like this, nobody really had. Master wasn’t the type you wanted to test.

“Not even to make an example of you or something?”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Oh,” he said. “What will happen to me?”

Rosie shrugged. “Decapitation, probably. Maybe something more painful.”

“Super.” He looked miserable. She felt a little bad. “So instead what are we going to do?”

“One thing at a time.”

He blanched. “You do not even have a plan? Really?”

She narrowed her eyes. “No.” Ajax Alterra was starting to piss her off again.

“What, then? So you were just going to make us the top of the hit list for- who the hell even is your boss? While we sit on a miserable ship and waste away?” He appeared to have a thought then. “Do you even know where this ship is headed?”

Rosie blinked. In the next instant she had seized a fistful of the front of his shirt and pulled him so that his nose was nearly brushing hers. Her knife was against his throat.

But before he had time to take more than a few panicked breaths, she released him. She kept the knife in her hands, though. Turning it around slowly, inspecting its sharpness. She made a show of it. Scaring him seemed to be the only way to get him to shut up and stop moaning about everything.

“I’ve been raised to be Master’s perfect little tool since he discovered me in Undulae,” she said. “The first time I killed a man, I was six.”

She stowed her knife away and looked him in the eyes deeply, so he could see her severity. “I could kill you if I were bound from head to toe, unarmed, and blindfolded. No, wait. That’s too simple. I could kill you if I’d had all my arms and legs broken, and then tied up, if I were blindfolded, barehanded, and if you had every weapon you could carry and a two-day head start. Start whining again and your sorry a*s will be so deep in the ocean that daddy’ll never have to see your mangled corpse in the flesh.” She kept staring him down until she was sure he believed her.

She pulled back and sized him up for a moment. Then she punched him in the jaw.

The blow sent him reeling and looked like it brought tears to his eyes.

Rosie felt like laughing. That was fun. But she resisted doing so.

“Holy-” he groaned out through gritted teeth, clutching at his face.

“You deserved that and you know it, you stupid, blithering idiot,” was her reply. She tipped back her head and downed some more of the bottle’s contents.