Heyna's Tale - Chapter Five
Screeble
Heyna didn’t have to wait for a steamer to take her down river. There was one anchored just below the town. She was a rusty scow. Black smoke billowed out of her single stack, and her rigging sagged with neglect. Her name was almost obscured by peeling paint. Heyna thought she was rather small and pathetic looking to be named, “Leviathan.” She considered waiting for the next ship, but didn’t want to spend another exorbitant day in Beoford.
She swam up to the passenger platform and climbed aboard. She was met at the top of the ladder by a dirty and stinking Dreki swabby with her hand out. Heyna ignored the hand and the smell.
“Heading down river to Merkataritza. Who do I talk to?”
“You’re talking to me, ain’t ya?” Heyna wasn’t in the mood to make nice with this seedy looking character.
“Right, I’ll wait for the next boat.” She turned and started back down the ladder.
“Hold fast, youngster, the Purser is through that door.” Heyna didn’t move. She was tired of being shaken down. Her hackles went up.
“Any other passengers going South?” she asked warily.
“Yer the first, but we usually’s got a full load.”
“When do you head out?”
“First light. Gotta load and stow cargo first.” Her eagerness to quit Beoford made her ignore her intuition and her revulsion at this disgusting boat.
“Show me to the Purser.” The sailor gestured to the hatch. “You first,” Heyna said.
They walked across the deck. Her hackles were still up, but she was still ignoring her intuition. Just in case, Heyna slipped her shaping tool into her hand underneath her bag.
Sure enough, as soon as she went through the hatch, she saw another crewman in the narrow hallway. The swabby turned and tried to grab her. Heyna was ready, and clocked her on the head with her tool. She turned, running and dove over the side.
She swam back to the Visitor Center, almost got the usual shakedown, but showed the mayor’s token and rented a lodge for a decent price (for Beoford). Now she had to wait, which she hated to do, for the three days that she’d have to wait for a decent passage down to the city. By the Trees! She hated Beoford.
As it turned out, the wait was not unpleasant. During that time she met some fellow travelers, merchants, ursae hunters and others. She did her best to be friendly. They explained that there were people, slavers, who took advantage of Erda traveling alone. Apparently, she’d had a lucky break in getting away from the Leviathan.
“The authorities should warn us,” she said.
“Oh, they do. Look there.”
On the wall of the lodge was a faded sign warning of a long list of required fees, restrictions, regulations. At the bottom was a single line, “Beware of slavers!”
“Very helpful,” she said. Everyone laughed.
*
Finally, she got downriver on a rickety stern-wheeler that belched the worst smelling black smoke. Surveying the harbor, Heyna was sure that there would be no regular freight or passenger lines that had any interest in an expedition to unknown waters for an impossible to explain reason. Her only hope was to hire a vessel for the journey, which might be a one-way trip. This probably meant dealing with more jokers like those on the Leviathan.
The docks in Merkataritza-hiria stank. The brackish water, rats and rotting fish all formed a caustic olfactory soup that made Heyna’s head swim. On top of everything was the smell of the algae clogging and clinging to the wharves. The smell stung her nose and made her eyes water until she became acclimated to it.
The harbor was crammed with boats and ships of all sizes. Masts stood thick and tall like a naked forest swaying gently in the wind. Vessels plied their way carefully in and out of the crowded waters. Heyna mentally noted those that might be seaworthy enough to take her to the middle of the wide ocean. She marked the crews for their professional demeanor. Then, she chose those that advertised their availability to charter, not counting the fishing boats. Those wouldn’t be willing to go that far. Heavy freighters would be too busy for a long side trip, so she eliminated them as well.
She did her best not to attract attention. She stood in shaded areas and observed, moving as little as possible to gather her intelligence. But once she had that, she started approaching vessels. Those she deemed most likely, she approached first.
“You want to go where? Nothing out there. Why do you want to go? One way? Closer places to commit suicide.” Variations on this conversation met her at every vessel. Heyna began to admit that she was looking for the Fennec Isle treasure, which brought derision along with confusion. One captain after another just said no, or threw her off their ships.
She worked her way down to the smellier end of the docks and spied the Leviathan, in all her bedraggled slaverish glory. Heyna gave her a wide berth. She was desperate, but not that desperate. The day had exhausted her and she decided to look for a place for the night. She turned towards the town and saw a Ryujin captain lounging on the dock, with members of his crew.
They did not look industrious. They did not look trustworthy. And however desperate she was, Heyna wasn't about to ask for help from dragons. Especially not Ryujin.
They might be pirates, for all she knew. They looked the type. She stuck her nose in the air and trotted past them, but the captain called to her.
“Hey, Kit!" It sounded more like, "hhhhhhhhhaaaaaayy, shkitzzz!” Heyna kept walking.
“HEY! I'm talking to you! Walk by and miss out, foolish Erda.” The dragon feigned disinterest and settled back into a comfortable circle and picked his teeth.
Heyna, made ready to run, but she slowed down in spite of her fear.
“Fox Island, you seekin' huh? Ol' Screeble can help you… or not.”
Heyna stopped. Screeble, she thought. What a name to not inspire confidence. He sat among the coiled rope and rigging on the dock, all blue dorsal iridescence and silver bellied, black claws painted gold, gap toothed, and a scar across his short ugly snout. His swim fins where likewise scarred and one of them trembled with an involuntary twitch.
“Yeah, you for the Fox Isle.” He laughed a hard, contemptuous, grinding guffaw.”
“What makes you think that?” Heyna couldn’t help herself asking.
“Screeble got ears all up and down the dock. You got no secret here, Kit.”
“So, what, ‘Captain’ Screeble, is it? Are you are offering me a ride?”
“Well, I don't know. Why a kit looking for that island? Nobody know that island. They say that island a myth.”
“It’s real. I know where it is,” Heyna said flatly. Screeble’s whiskers shivered and his eyes narrowed.
“That not likely, Kit.” Screeble turned, and started walking away. His crew mates stood up to follow.
"Fennec home, all unknown,
All beware, treasure there,
Who dare the ocean’s breast,
Only madness, only death.”
“Bah! Any sailor know that ditty. Don’t mean nothing.”
“I have a map.” Screeble’s eyes narrowed again, and his fin twitched, but he laughed again.
“Right, Kit, let us see this map.”
“It is in my head.”
“Right! Let me look in your ear.” Screeble’s crew laughed now with a sound like waves crashing against rocks. Heyna bristled, and a Gryphon gendarme looked sharply at the dragons.
“It’s coordinates!” She pulled the old Gryph’s note from her carryall. She held it out and snatched it back when Screeble reached for it.
“Oh, you a riot, Kit. What are you called?”
“Heyna.”
“Okay, Heyna of the Erda, let’s see what else you carry.” Now Heyna was afraid. She backed away from the dragons, but they did not advance on her.
“Okay, kit, you see if any other fool sail you to Fox Isle.” With that, the Ryujin all turned and walked towards the end of the wharf.
Was he right? She had talked to all the other ships at port, all with the same result, refusal or laughter, or worse, outright hostility. If she showed all her valuables, her bargaining position would be weakened. She thought about what she’d be willing to pay. She wasn’t about to give up her ruby. But she wasn’t sure she had anything else that she thought these dragons would value. But to even think of going with these… sea snakes made her tremble. She made up her mind.
“Wait!” She pulled out her notebook and quickly sketched out a rough map, which called out the distance and heading, and rough location in relation to the nearest land, leaving out the exact coordinates of Fox Isle. “They say that there is great treasure to be found.” Screeble glanced at the map.
“Pretty good, but got no mark for the isle, kit.”
“I can mark it for you.”
“This to scale?”
“No. But I will share the exact coordinates with you once we are underway.” I guess I am doing this, she thought. Nothing matters but finding Xico and Jaz, she told herself. Dare anything.
Screeble turned to his first mate and talked to him in low tones. He nodded and then let out a low evil chuckle.
“Where you get this, Kit? You a sailor? You don’t look it. Where you hear about this island?”
“Janizaree.” Screeble looked shocked, then… was that fear?
“Who are you, Kit? What you really doing bothering Old Screeble.”
“I am Heyna of the Paititi Erda. I am not lying. I am… on a quest. For a treasure,” named Xico, she thought.
“Right. Sure. How does Screeble know that you can pay?” He turned to his first mate. “Kay! Check.”
“Kay,” the first mate said to Heyna. “I’m Kay. You got anything to trade for passage? Crew got to eat.” Heyna shivered.
“Only the location of the isle. The treasure…”
“Ain’t no treasure hunters on this ship. Anything else?”
Heyna thought of the contents of her backpack, svella bark, water, twine, flint and steel, shaping tool, a spare pair of spectacles, a water bottle, a vial of chichitl shaping gel, a vial of gernu forging powder, a pouch of steel and copper coins. Maybe the steel would do. She drew them out, and Kay snorted.
“That don’t get you across the bay. Dump your bag.” Her ruby was in her body pouch, so she opened her backpack and laid out its contents.
Kay’s eyes widened for a moment. Screeble’s twitchy fin spasmed.
“That chichitl?”
“Yes.”
“Right. We take that.” Kay said and added nonchalantly, “the other vial with the gray stuff, too.” Now it was Heyna’s turn to laugh.
“You know what that, ‘gray stuff’ is. Obviously, that’s enough for passage.”
Kay looked at Screeble. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“Right. Gernu for passage. Deal?”
“Deal.”
The dragon reached for the gernu.
“Once we reach the isle,” Heyna said and put her things back into her carryall.
“So, Heyna of the Paititi Erda, we got a deal. That be the powder and the location of the Fox Isle for passage. But be warned, Screeble not a one to be messed with. Mark the map!”
Heyna drew the location of the isle as Jakintu had showed her and handed the map to Kay. Screeble turned and walked for his ship. The crew followed. Course set, Heyna thought. No turning back now.
“Welcome aboard our boat, the Tachizame,” Kay said.