The Bone Ships by RJ Barker

Author:RJ Barker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2019-09-23T16:00:00+00:00

24

A Sight Seldom Seen

A hurried series of flags had let the other two ships know that Tide Child was going to break formation but that they should keep station, course and speed.

“Deckkeeper Twiner,” said Meas, “let’s see what your overtures towards the gullaime have bought us. Bring it up.”

“Call the gullaime,” shouted Joron, and from him the call went to Deckholder Dinyl and from there to Solemn Muffaz, who shouted the same to the seakeep, who relayed it down into the underdeck cabins.

Joron held his breath, waiting to see if the creature would respond. He was not the only one. As Tide Child raced on, it seemed the whole crew paused; even those throwing up at the rail seemed to still their aching guts. Then, as Joron was beginning to feel he must have failed, it appeared, predatory beak rising above the slate of the deck as if testing the air, head bobbing as it came up the steps, body hidden by robes that it had embellished with thread and needle, strange and beautiful patterns embroidered on the material, rips and tears fixed. Badly sewn, poorly repaired, but still fixed. The gullaime had changed. It was less messy, less unkempt, but there was more to it than that, although Joron could not quite grasp what; it was something he could not put into words.

The beak opened. The voice emerged:

“What you want, Joron Twiner?”

“We want wind, Gullaime,” said Meas, striding across the deck towards the creature. “Wind to take us north-west, wind to carry us quickly. Can you…” And Joron saw Meas pause, not her voice, but her body. There was a stutter in her step as if some unfamiliar thought upset all she was. And when she spoke she asked, she did not command. “Will you do that for us, Gullaime? Will you bring us the wind?”

“For why, Meas, for why? So you make war in your boat?”

“For the last arakeesian, Gullaime.”

The windtalker’s posture changed, tightened. Its head darted forward.

“Say words again.”

“The last arakeesian, Gullaime. It swims northward.”

“You hunt?”

“No. I have seen raiders on the horizon armed for war, but what war waits out here? Nothing human, I reckon, Gullaime. At this moment the wakewyrm may be under attack, and we intend to protect it.” The gullaime was across the deck in a flash. In front of Meas. Narza’s hand went to the blades on her hip, but Meas opened a hand behind her. “No.”

“Truth?” The gullaime almost stuck its beak into Meas’s face.

“Truth.”

Not truth, of course. A lie. Joron knew that. A lie but a necessary lie. But if the raiders were in fact hunters, then their quarry must be near.

Could that be true?

Could the creature be real?

The gullaime turned from Meas towards the north, then it shook, a small but intense shudder as if it rid itself of dust or insects. The robe lifted, exposing rope-thin legs and clawed feet, and it pointed its beak towards the north-west.

“Sea sither,” it said quietly. Then raised its head to the

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