The crawly held me in her bright-metal gaze. 'History itself shall hinge on the choice you made,' she said.
'Don't know that I have made it,' I grumbled, 'if you're talking about the choice not to smoke you cr-you individuals, off this ship.'
'I am talking about the choice of reason over fear,' she said, 'and I'll wager my life that you have indeed decided, though Rin knows I should have no right to condemn you if you change your mind.'
'I don't want blood on my hands,' I told her. 'Nobody's blood. Not yours, even, if it ain't required.'
'You have the courage to see, Mr Fiffengurt,' she said. 'All other forms of courage spring from that well.'
I was tongue-tied with confusion. It was crawlies who sank the Adelyne off Rapopalni, with my uncle amp; his babe aboard, or so the few survivors claimed. After that my own dad started collecting crawly skulls to make a necklace, though he had just four by the time he died. Ma still keeps the gruesome things on his dresser, beside his service ribbons amp; his false teeth. Hating ixchel is a family tradition, you might say.
But in my fifty years no woman has ever spoken to me with more respect than this Diadrelu. Of course she's not human amp; so not properly a woman (though I saw evidence unforgettably to the contrary when I cut that shirt away). My kin in Etherhorde — Pitfire, everyone in Etherhorde — would call me a mutineer, a fool, the dupe of a shapely ship-louse; Dad would say I should be the first to drown when the crawlies strike. These past nights I've pictured their faces as I lay down to sleep amp; it stabs me through the heart to know how they'd condemn me. Last night they entered my dreams, bitter amp; scornful amp; hurrying off with hostile glances, amp; 'Shame, shame' was all I could get them to say.
But when I think of the noble bearing of that Lady Diadrelu, I feel suddenly more ashamed of my certainties about her people than the displeasure of my own. All my life I've laughed at the righteous fools who hate Mzithrinis at a personal level, who assume that whole vast land to be populated by mindless killers with bloodshot eyes. And all my life I've thought of 'crawlies' as something worse. If I'm honest (amp; where shall I be honest if not with you, little whelp?) my reasons make no more sense than the next man's reasons for hating the Sizzies: because someone long dead or far away set us on this path, and told us never to turn. I cannot forget the Adelyne. But the fact that Pazel and Thasha love this Diadrelu settles the matter: she may not be human, but she's a person all the same.
The dream ended with a rain of ash from the heavens, falling in a thin band between me amp; my kinfolk, amp; when I saw them through the ash it was like seeing figures in a painting, or on the deck of some boat heading off to the East Reach or points beyond. People who've slipped away, who you can't have back at your side under any circumstances, people gone already amp; for ever.
Tuesday, 28 Freala 941. Palo Elkstem, our sailmaster's nephew, succumbed to his burns this morning. He was right under the foremast when the dragon's-egg shot exploded, amp; the battle netting came down upon him in flames.
These last days have been bitter. Storm raging again, so that we cannot dream of shifting either of the great timbers on the lower gun deck, although the carpenters have already cut amp; shaped one into a new foremast. Waves at 40 ft. amp; breaking on our port quarter: no danger to the ship provided the helm keeps us true, but lads who I've never known to be ill are heaving over the side.
Rose has called off the imprisonment of Pathkendle amp; Co., though he left one Turach on duty at the invisible wall, to observe who comes amp; goes. This presents certain difficulties for me: now that they can get their own food, what excuse do I have to visit? And if I persist, amp; that soldier notes it again amp; again, how long will it be before the captain pulls me aside amp; demands a report?
Friday, 1 Norn 941. I start to wonder if a gale rages perpetually on the Ruling Sea. No end is in sight; if anything the wind is somewhat fiercer with each passing hour. Gloom among the sailors, a dangerous glint in the Turachs' eyes. And this before we have even finished the fresh food we loaded at Bramian. What is to come in the months ahead I do not like to imagine.
There were at least two hints today, however — unpleasant hints, to be sure. First thing this morning came the accusation, by a Plapp's Pier man, that three members of his gang who'd died in the battle had been stripped of their rings, knives amp; other valuables by the lad assigned to prepare the corpses for burial at sea. The accused man belonged to neither gang, but he took the Burnscove Boys oath almost as soon as he learned of the charges, saying he feared for his life without their protection. Wish I could be certain that he was wrong.
Of course it's the worst breach imaginable of the Code to pledge oneself to anything save the ship amp; her captain, amp; Rose was in a holy fury when he heard of it. As I write the man hangs by one ankle from the main yard, slamming about like a loose wheelblock amp; lashed by the storm. If the Burnscovers take this as punishment for his stealing (a charge for which there is no evidence) we may yet escape a gang war.
Then at the strike of the noon bell I met Uskins near the tonnage hatch, just standing there in the rain. He caught my eye amp; for once there was no mockery or sneering, so I drew near amp; asked what ailed him. Uskins said not a word, just looked away south-east, amp; when I did the same I saw a purplish glaze on the underside of the furthest clouds, amp; a little bulge downwards.
'Humph,' said I, squinting, 'I can't account for that, Pidetor, but we've both seen stranger things.'
'You cannot account for it,' said Uskins, 'but Arunis can. He says it is the sign of the Nelluroq Vortex.'
'The Vortex! Oh, surely not. We can't be that far east.'
'One can see its effects for thousand of miles. It alters the weather, makes its own winds. Arunis says that they bear down through its depths and vanish from this world. That one can watch a whole sky full of clouds being sucked into its maw, with thunderheads and flocks of birds, and even cloud-murths struggling in vain against its power.'
'But why in the bubbling black Pits are you talking to Arunis?' I demanded.
Uskins looked at me sharply, amp; his warthog nature came back to him. 'I bring his meals,' he said, 'as you would know if you paid less attention to those youths in the stateroom, and more to our captain's directives.'
'I know Rose is trying to keep him away from the crew,' I said, trying to ignore the provocation. 'But anyone could bring a plate to his door.'
'The captain wants him observed, Fiffengurt, not just quarantined. He chose me for my tact, and my gift for obtaining information.'
Your slime-craft amp; snooping, I thought. But I left him to his vigil amp; said no more. Arunis may be lying through his teeth, but that purple glint on the clouds' underbellies was plain to see, amp; remained so through nightfall.
Tonight Dastu pressed a slip of paper into my hand. On it were these words: Find us a safe and secret compartment. When the storm ends we're going to take some chances with trust. Pzl.
Dastu glanced back at me over his shoulder. There's one they've chosen to trust already, I thought, just as they chose me back at Simja.
I am plotting against the captain. My mutiny is now a fact.
Tuesday, 5 Norn 941. Eight solid days of storm. Nothing to do but fight it, fight it ceaselessly. Nights by far the worst, for though we stab at the darkness with fog lamps the waves are ever breaking upon us before we rightly see them. We have been close to broaching more often than I can recall, amp; five or six times had water over the deck. Pumps have failed, oilskins parted, and a hand run along half the walls on the orlop comes up wet: the Nelluroq is oozing through the seams, pressed in by the battering waves. There was a ghastly morning when the water in the well rose ten feet in three hours: a wad of grime and rat-hair had clogged a bilge pipe. Dawn amp; dusk are blurry notions, amp; noon is when you stand beside one mast amp; can see the next.
Another three men lost, amp; reports of fever among the unhappy folk down in steerage. Chadfallow amp; Fulbreech handing out pills. The tarboy Macom Drell, of Hansprit, crushed on the mercy deck by shifting cargo. The lad was found hours after his death; he could not fill his lungs to cry for aid. Also a suicide among the Turachs. One of the guards on the Shaggat simply walked up amp; put his hand on the Nilstone. I saw what was left of him: bone amp; gristle amp; ash. They say he had been staring at the thing for a week.
Monday, 11 Norn 941. Wave height doubled amp; still we lack [illegible] end of our voyage amp; this ship's proud history unless [illegible] flooding the [illegible] down the ladderway and broke his leg [illegible] wind screams in the rigging with the sound of tortured animals [illegible] blary hand shaking too much to wr [unfinished].
Sunday, 17 Norn 941. Something in this universe must love the Chathrand, for she has looked her own death in the face every day for a week. Three days ago the waves reached 80 ft. Rose put her into the wind, for at that height the lower gallery windows were getting slapped on every swell amp; one rogue breaker could have smashed
