66 The Dyscovera

Under a sparkling veil of stars, the Dyscovera sailed on. Javian shared the midnight watch with Mia. They no longer had any worries about a rapist being abroad during the night hours; the two of them looked for outside threats.

Since revealing her identity, Mia had endured many surly comments from other sailors, but Javian accepted her, seeing the young woman as another outsider, someone who might share a common bond with him. She was a quiet person and rarely initiated conversation, but when they were all alone on the sleeping ship, with crewmen snoring belowdecks or out in the open, Javian and Mia fell into a tentative, comfortable companionship.

She stared up into the darkness where a shimmering blue-green aurora flickered and crackled across the sky. Javian had never seen such a thing before. “Maybe it's dust blowing free from the stars. What do you think it is?”

She shrugged. “Just another of Ondun's wonders. I don't have to understand it to admire it.”

Mia rested her elbows on the ship's rail, listening to the whisper of waves, the creaking of the lines, the rustle of sailcloth like a mother spreading a blanket for her children. While Javian considered her answer, two streaks of light shot across the sky, like fingernail scratches making sparks on the night.

“What if it is dust leaking through?” Mia looked over at him. “What if the heavens themselves are crumbling? I've heard Prester Hannes say that these are dangerous times, maybe the End Times. Do you believe that, Javian?”

“It doesn't matter if I believe it. We are all in Ondun's hands, and He will sort the evil from the righteous. Nothing we do can make a difference.”

“I don't believe that. If we find Holy Joron, that would change everything.”

In an awkward moment of silence, Javian asked the question that Mia had known he would raise sooner or later. Though at times he seemed naïve and starry-eyed, he had his own scars, like hers. “So what did you leave behind in Calay? Why did you really want to disguise yourself and be a sailor?”

“Can't I have dreams like anyone else?”

“Nobody's dreams are the same. Nobody's reasons are the same. I just wanted to know yours.” She turned away to stare at the dark waters, but Javian didn't back down. “I don't think you're here to visit exotic lands. I think you wanted to get away from Calay. I can see it in your eyes—you're hiding something.”

“How would you know?”

He shrugged. “Some people can tell.”

She glared at him, expecting Javian to keep pestering her, but he held his silence, waiting her out. Finally, she said in a quiet voice, “I came because I had no good choices, and this was the best of the bad ones.” Her words were nearly drowned out by the wash of waves against the Dyscovera's hull.

“My father was a woodcutter, but he injured himself, lost his hand and lamed his leg. He couldn't work anymore, so he brought me and my little brother to Calay, hoping to find someone to take mercy on us. But our situation just got worse. Even as a beggar, he could barely get enough coins to keep us from starving.

“My brother was too young, but I tried to find work to help us. I tried my hand at being a seamstress, but I had no skill. I volunteered to empty offal buckets in the Butchers' District, but they laughed at me and said a girl couldn't do that work. They said they had Urecari slaves to do the worst jobs and they'd rather see them covered with blood, guts, and slime.” She gazed out at the horizon with an angry, troubled stare. “Oh, they had plenty of other ideas for me. My father told me it was perfectly acceptable for me to be a whore, if that was the only way to keep my family fed.”

Javian stared at her, amazed. “There had to be some way to earn money. I ran around doing little jobs, and I always managed to find something. That's how I survived after I ran away from home.” He seemed to be accusing her for not having tried hard enough.

She whipped around on him with fury. “You're a boy. You don't know me, you can't know my situation.”

He held up his hands, backing away in surrender. “Sorry!”

“But I refused to become a whore, and my father beat me. I refused again, and when he tried to strike me, I hit him back. I ran away.” Her voice hitched. “That's why I decided to dress as a young man and come aboard the ship. This was my only chance. It's no surprise that a boy wants to be a sailor, and I didn't want to risk being turned down for a stupid reason.” She looked at him with clear eyes and a defiant smile. “I'm glad I don't have to hide anymore.”

The cabin boy was surprised by this. “But I see how badly they treat you. They taunt you mercilessly.”

Mia chuckled harshly. “I don't care. At least I can be myself.”

The door to the captain's cabin opened, shedding a sudden pool of lamplight on the dark deck. Criston Vora emerged, not seeing them standing together in the shadows. The captain walked to the opposite rail, carrying a bottle in his hand. A wine bottle? Javian wondered. Perhaps the captain drank from the ship's stores in order to ease his troubled dreams.

But no. Captain Vora held the bottle with a kind of reverence. He pressed the cork in tighter, then threw the bottle as far as he could out into the water. It tumbled and splashed into the unknown sea.

Javian knew exactly what he was doing.

Mia startled him. “Captain, are you all right?”

Captain Vora turned to see them in the gloom. “I was just…
adding a letter to the others I've sent. It's an old habit of mine.” He rested his elbows on the rail. “Long ago I lost my wife. While I was on the Luminara, I promised Adrea I'd write letters and put them in bottles, hoping that the currents would bring them to her.”

From his pocket, he withdrew a soft calfskin pouch, which held a very small clump of golden hairs; Javian saw that only a few strands remained. “She gave me this lock of hair before we set sail from Calay. I place a strand with each letter, hoping that the sympathetic magic will bind them. So far, though, I've no reason to believe she's received any of them… if she's even alive.” He shrugged and looked away. “It's quite likely Adrea's already dead. When the Urecari raiders came to my village, they killed so many.” He seemed embarrassed to admit such a sentimental thing. “Nobody knows for sure. I do it now because of my promise, not out of any actual hope, but I am still devoted to Adrea. I know it's silly to believe.”

Javian lashed out with a fervent retort. “Don't talk like that, Captain! No truly held belief is silly. Ondun knows your heart. Don't ever doubt what you believe.”

When Criston looked at him, tears added starlight to his eyes. He swept his arm around Javian's shoulders, hugging him. “Thank you for that, boy.”

Together, the three of them looked over the side of the Dyscovera. Under the pale eerie glow of the aurora, they watched the sealed bottle drift away.