The Blackfeather Sea by J Boothby

Author:J Boothby [Boothby, J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Edge of the Knife: Episode 2
Published: 2020-01-09T22:00:00+00:00

11

The Stona leads me down through the ship’s decks to a holding chamber on the port side It’s a large, high-ceilinged space with a huge engraved metal door on the outer hull, and a complex lei-powered apparatus that must raise and lower it.

Several podships rest in a line down the center of the chamber. They’re in various stages of repair; people of several races, along with some mechs, move around them with tools and devices I don’t recognize.

Second from the end of the line is the podship we’d pulled out of the Wastes.

It’s a lot cleaner, and many of the dents have been worked out, though a large one still remains just to starboard of the bow.

Several areas have patches of metal skin riveted across them. A new hatch has been fastened into place, and a Kruk with a welder’s torch is attaching a line of hooks along the starboard side to hold nets that will probably carry cargo, weapons, or even mages into battle.

Two other men stand to one side, watching the Krukwork. As Gravhnal and I approach, I realize one is a Tel Kharan marine.

I recognize him.

He’s the same one who led the Retriever ship in the Wastes.

The same one who tried to stop us from getting the podship.

The other figure is a younger Stona, with quick gestures and brilliant feathers patterned in turquoise and aquamarine. He calls out and gestures us over.

“Gravhnal! There you are. We’ve been looking for you, you know! The khalee Bakron Akarii wishes to understand the status of your upgrades, and I told him that you would best be able to speak to the details. Who is this?” He nods distractedly in my direction. “Really, Grav. We don’t have time for you to bring all of your friends through here. We have a great deal of work to complete in a very short time.”

The Tel Kharan studies me. “This is the Fleet Captain’s pet,” he says. “Hulgliev.” He nods. “I’ve anticipated our meeting for days now, though I understand you have been…otherwise engaged, I suppose I must say.”

I feel my ears go back and the hair on my neck ridges goes up. “Khalee,” I say carefully.

He’s dressed in an elegant set of Akarii wraps with a heavily jeweled knife in a silver sheath on his chest. His long black hair is bound back in a topknot, and his beard is cropped close to his face, not covering the long white scars that stretch from his eyes down to his throat on either side. We stand there in silence, taking each other’s measure.

He takes in my collar, my robes, and my lack of a knife in a glance. He snorts derisively, and leans his weight forward on the balls of his feet as though he might spring at me at any moment.

I find myself leaning forward too, my fur going black and my claws itching to come out.

I should say something else, I suppose, but I’m not feeling all that verbal.

There’s a growl that wants to start in the back of my throat, but I keep it quiet.

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