Many years ago, Hama was hunting for whatever he could find. Then, he saw a faraway valley where the bluebirds roosted and the sun rose, and he wished to go there very much. However, to reach the valley, he had to cross a great mountain where many giants lived, who crushed and ate any who trespassed on their mountain. Hama was fast, but he could not outrun their long legs. Hama was strong, but he could not overpower their mighty clubs. But Hama was also very clever. He found the seed of the tallest tree, and he ate the seed. Then he ate soil, and water, and he caught the rays of the sun in his mouth until the tree began to grow in his belly. It grew and it grew and with it, Hama grew as well, until he was as large as the giants of the mountain.
Hama walked onto the mountain, calling the giants his brothers and his sisters. They greeted him as a brother, and the Uñko fed and clothed him, while the Uökn kept him company at night. In this way, Hama traveled the mountains and reached the valley of the bluebirds and the rising sun.
However, the bluebirds would not sing when he approached, and the sun would not rise.
“They must think I am a terrible giant, and hide from me,” Hama said.
So Hama dug a hole and defecated in it, pushing the tree out of his anus and into the hole. In doing so, the white bark of the tree turned brown. Because the tree was covered in fertile poo, it grew faster and better than any of the other trees in the valley, and soon brown trees greatly outnumbered white trees. This is where tree bark gets its color, and why it burns so well.
Hama returned to the valley once again, and is now listening to the songs of the bluebirds, and bathing in the light of the sun until his next tale is told.
Situated at the eastern edge of the Duke of Fourth’s domain was a quaint town called Pelver.
Unlike many other smaller towns in Cohenlay, this one was historic, existing well before the arable lands were gobbled up by industry barons. So while day laborers certainly made a home there — especially as one of the few mines within the country operated nearby — it wasn’t just a place for them to put up their feet and unwind after twelve long hours of work. For one, a large river cut through the town, offering businesses and civilians alike a free source of power, and a not-so-free source of fish, as you needed a license to cast a line into the crystal-blue streams. Secondly, an ancient stone fortress was built on one of the three large hills (called the Triple Breasts of Nehen, an old pagan goddess not native to the area) that surrounded the town, which had since been repurposed into the largest observatory in Cohenlay — which, in turn, meant that one of the country’s two academies for higher learning was also in the neighborhood. And finally, it had Cohenlay’s only naturally-occurring hot spring, which meant it had a large influx of visitors every year during winter, the only time the hot springs were in operation.
Given these boons, it might be surprising that this quaint town wasn’t larger. If things were left to their natural course it would have been. But the Duke of Four, who ultimately owned the land, made a conscious effort to keep the town as small as possible — not for any economic reasons, but rather, ecological ones. Larger towns would mean fewer forests and more contaminated water and the Duke of Four was keenly invested in ensuring that the town, while functional enough to accommodate its people and students, didn’t overextend itself. There were other ways for him to gain wealth, options he explored and exploited with the same ruthless capitalist spirit of most others in his peerage, but Pelver was his baby, and he tended and doted on it the way other nobles dedicated themselves to museums, mansions, and the arts.
Amelia, too, was fond of the place, and she made a point to go slightly out of her way so she could use the telestation here rather than one more directly en-route to Lao’s Bay. Even though it was too late in the season to use the hot springs, it also made a fine place for her crew to get a little R&R: not quite a day’s worth, as they couldn’t leave their merchandise waiting, but at least a few hours of dining and hiking to reward them for a job more-or-less well done.
That part was Olivia’s idea.
Amelia stepped into the telestation and locked eyes briefly with the man who ran the place, protected as he was behind two layers of glass and iron bars: almost as thoroughly secured as a bank teller. He gave her a fairly standard, customer-service smile back, which was to be expected. With her hood up, human teeth in, and a healthy layer of makeup paired with a prosthetic nose, she not only looked “normal”, but entirely unrecognizable as Amelia, one of the most feared women in Cohenlay.
She fired back an equally artificial but significantly more forced smile before taking her place at one of the telephone booths.
“I’m calling Helen Viceroy.”
“Of course, ma’am. We’ll send out the notice on the next commercial break.”
Amelia barely grunted in response, took out a coloring book and some colored pencils, and started filling in the blanks. She was halfway through the book, sixty minutes in, when the operator came back to her.
“She’s not here yet, ma’am. Do you want to try again?”
“Yes.”
She had finished with the book entirely and started drawing in the next before the operator popped in a third time.
“Ma’am, she may not be here.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s 4pm, ma’am.”
“One more time, then.”
Helen Viceroy, as Amelia understood it, wasn’t the most reliable shoe. Apparently, there were some shoes that could be reached within an hour, which sounded extremely appealing. But she was the only one Amelia knew, and Helen wasn’t about to recommend her own replacement, so she was the one Amelia was stuck with. It was almost five o’clock, two coloring books later, before her nasally, crooked voice came out of the telephone.
“You settled in, big shot?”
“I’ve been settled in for three hours, Helen.”
“Then you should be nice and relaxed. Where you at?”
“Pelver.”
“Then go down to the Shadeside after this and tell them Helen’s in your corner. Tab’s open. Make a friend.”
Amelia had to swallow a growl. But swallow it she did, however bitter it felt going down her throat.
“Now what can I do for ya, big shot?”
“Did anyone find Getherald?”
“Yesterday, yeah. A few fine sailors north of Samuella shared a tantalizing tale. The ending? Judath DePhage, the ex-white knight himself, got his paws on the prince.”
Judath DePhage. She knew him. Barely. The blows to the head made her memories fuzzy, but she heard about him a few times during her relatively short career as a bounty hunter. Alexander’s protege. Incredibly talented, infuriatingly young, and if the rumors were to be believed, a certified Dawnchaser. Although perhaps his most notable trait was his alleged friendship with Daisy, a scoundrel of such renown that apparently the only thing keeping her from challenging Lao for the title of Devil’s Admiral was an unwillingness to be tied down by anything, even honors. He had a sizable bounty, but not big enough to risk the confrontation — most bounty hunters, like herself, preferred easier prey.
“Oh. That’s fine. We got a consolation prize, which is why I’m calling.”
“Give a girl a little credit. You don’t cut through seven ships in a night without people finding out. Your little adventure has you on the lips of everyone worth listening to… and a new bounty that’s downright purse-breaking.”
Amelia furrowed her brow, and leaned further into the receiver. Olivia told her to expect a bounty to be put on her head, but that was supposed to happen after admitting to Helen that she was behind the attacks last night. How did she already know? She was good enough at collecting info but not even Lao could see in the dark.
“Wait, a bounty? How the hell did I get a bounty?”
“Silly girl, the states aren’t the only ones with coin to throw around. You pissed off a lot of pirate gangs after your stunt, wishing you'd wave them off as they give you the long goodbye.”
“...that doesn’t make sense,” she clenched her fist hard around the phone, “how would they know we did it? There shouldn’t have been survivors.”
“And yet, here we are. Here’s something you might find neat: all the people who put you on the line had the same lipstick mark drawn on their neck. Bright and blood-red, beguiling but not bloodied.”
The shiver running down Amelia’s spine solidified into a firm, grounded anxiety. Fear was the domain of the unknown, but with that little detail, she could guess immediately what happened: not because she was especially clever, but because there was literally only one person on her crew who had lipstick and would have an aversion to killing someone in their sleep. And now, her greatest concern was less that she was going to be on the hit-list of both Bar Boys and bounty hunters, and more that she needed to confront Olivia about this.
“I see.”
“Not what you wanted to hear, huh?”
“No.”
“Hearing the old birdsong, are you?”
“...maybe.”
“So now that I’m done bringing bad news, how can I help you make some of that good stuff?”
“...we attacked eight ships last night. The last one was a military ship. Don’t ask questions. I just want to know if we can sell it.”
“Is that really top of your to-do right now, Amelia? You're bleeding from the ass and you’ve got hunters on your tail, maybe this wolf should find a cozy den to hide in?”
“I don’t pay you for lectures.”
“Well, this one is on the house: are you sure you want to sell a military ship? Might be safer to ghost it. Some gangs putting coin on your head is one thing, but the dukes won’t like you at all if they find out you picked a fight with their little piggies. And you know as well as I do there’s nothing they like spending their coin on more than hurting people they don’t like.”
Amelia wasn’t clever enough to lie, so she just said nothing with as much patience as she could muster.
“I’m saying this as your trusted, paid expert, Amelia, you’d be doing yourself a favor by just abandoning it. Why risk your neck and your, heh, let’s say ‘interesting’ career on a few good coin? It’s downright short sighted.
“...are you done?” Amelia asked, her words sour enough to peel paint.
“Tell you what: I’m so interested in not being an accessory to a crime, I’d even be willing to give you a really exciting job opportunity I was saving for someone else if you just agree to ghost the ship. It’s a-”
“-are. You. Done?” Amelia repeated.
“Ah. So we’re doing this, huh? Alright, say no more, big shot. Probably better off not sticking my fingers in that pie. I can secure you a buyer, but bring some scissors, because I’m gonna need a few cuts.”
“A few?”
“You make this hard for me, I reverse your purse. That’s the law of the land~” she sang, as if to make it endearing, “First, the buyers — turns out, you pissed them off last night, so you’ll need a peace offering. You’re gonna need to pay the owner of the isle you do business on, since a military ship is bound to bring bad press. And a few more coins for yours truly, because Helen has a lot of thirsty big shots racking up tabs at her favorite bars and you are asking me to do something that most lawyers would describe as ‘incredibly illegal’.”
Amelia snarled again, one too large and hot to go down at all. It didn’t help when Helen chuckled from the other end.
“How much will be left for me after all these cuts?!”
“I dunno. 40% if you’re unlucky, and we both know you’re very unlucky.”
“You want sixty percent?!”
She was on her feet now. The person behind the glass flinched, but was currently reading — or at least pretending to read — the newspaper. Giving himself deniability. Like any seasoned professional would.
“We, Amelia! Plural! I know it sounds like a lot, but do it without me and all you’d get is a bunch of angry, powerful people we can add to your already very long list of enemies!”
She sat back down, head heavy in her own hands.
“Okay.”
“Great! Just send the money over before you leave Pelver, and I can get you the meetup point and some names.”
Olivia had told Amelia to expect this, and playing along was part of her grand plan. But it still pissed her off, and she wasn’t shy about saying as much.
“What? Send the money now? I don’t even know how much I’ll get for it.”
“For a military ship? Gosh, I imagine you’ll get quite a bit: tell you what, I’ll be nice and just ask for 6000 good coin now, alright? I can bill you the rest later~”
“...I… I don’t have 6000 good coin, Helen.”
“Oh no~. How much do you have, big shot?”
“...I think… it was… maybe 800?”
“Ooooh, you will need that drink, won’t you?”
“You’ve been my shoe for two years, you know I’m good for it. Can’t you cover it for now?!”
Amelia was trying to sound desperate, but she wasn’t nearly the actress Olivia was. So she just decided to lean into angry, which came quite naturally.
“Oh, that’s cute. You’re adorable sometimes, Amelia. But no. You’ll just… need to make the money somehow!”
“How am I supposed to make 6000 good coin?!”
“I dunno! But I’m not calling buyers until I see the money in my account. Also, you’d better hang up: now that I know you can’t afford these calls I’m starting to feel bad for keeping you waiting this long.”
“Then could you pay for it?!”
“It’s less cute the second time.”
And the line went dead.
The plan was to meet at a little wooden bench on the bank of the river, one that sat under a broad, beautiful, barely budding tree. It was a peaceful, relaxing place. The subdued buzz of the town, the burble of the river, and the chirping of birds made for agreeable enough backdrops for her thoughtful contemplation. A rainy spring had flooded the water somewhat beyond its usual banks, but there was still a meter of dry land between her boots and the water. A not small part of her wanted to throw all her books aside and just dive in — play in the no-doubt freezing river until her troubles either drowned or vanished, whichever came first — but she ignored that call and merely stared at the water, as if waiting for it to change course and go directly through her mind, carrying away her troubles and leaving her brain clean, refreshed, and free of any dirtying, troubling thoughts.
It did not.
In any case, Olivia was supposed to be here, but then Helen wasn’t supposed to keep them waiting three hours, so Amelia wasn’t surprised to find she had wandered off. She wasn’t unhappy about it, either, because it gave her an opportunity to parse out some thoughts before her partner-in-crime (and only crime, unfortunately) came back.
For one, that conversation felt like a fresh bruise on her purse. She had known she wasn’t doing well financially, but having to say her savings out loud made it feel much more real. 800 in good coin would be a good windfall for the average person, but as a bounty hunter who had fuel costs, wages, supplies, recompense for the wounded, and a dozen other expenses that added up every day you had two ships under your control, she wondered if they could even afford to pull off Olivia’s gambit. Every day her purse thinned a little bit more, and the problem with purses was that they lost weight a lot easier than they put it back on. Given the circumstances, she might be tempted to just forego this “revenge” scheme so she could fend off bankruptcy, but this wasn’t just about money anymore. She was apparently a wanted woman now. And if they could place her at the scene where seven pirate ships were raided in one night, it wouldn’t take a very talented detective to figure out who attacked the military ship on the same night in the same part of the sky.
Which brought her to the second source of her woes: Olivia.
Olivia hadn’t killed all the pirates from last night.
Other than Amelia herself, the only other person on the ship who wore makeup was Rachel, and she wasn’t brought on any of the raids last night. It wasn’t impossible someone stole a stick of lipstick, but no one else on the ship was as morally conflicted about killing as Olivia. Typically it was a non-issue: when they attacked a ship in the daylight, they only killed people who volunteered for death by attacking or otherwise resisting “arrest”. And when they raided at night, they were usually not crunched for space or time, and could take every soul aboard without needing to draw blood. This was the first time Amelia had ordered people to be killed in their sleep, and while she had the foresight to realize she needed to silence the witnesses to avoid becoming a target, she had failed to anticipate that Olivia would have had a problem with it.
So what now?
For all the indignity and rage rolling in her stomach, she couldn’t really get angry at Olivia. Not yet. Having heard her plan in full, she liked the opportunity this little betrayal created. But it was still a betrayal. And she knew she didn’t have the patience or the forgiving nature to keep her anger at this situation held back forever. It would come out eventually, and when it did, she could only hope the answers she got from Olivia were satisfying. She didn’t know what she’d do if they weren’t.
She didn’t get much time to dwell on it, however. Rachel and Olivia appeared on the other bank of the river, sharing a cone of river-churned ice cream while a brand-new bag swung from Olivia’s left arm. Olivia and Amelia’s eyes locked, and the two were able to have almost a full conversation in that shared glance: starting with Olivia apologizing for missing Amelia’s return, Amelia communicating that it was something else that was bugging her, and Olivia nodding in anxious understanding. In the next moment, she crossed the nearby bridge, placing herself at Amelia’s side so they could communicate more precisely with words instead of glances.
“How did it go?”
She extended the half-eaten wildberry cone to Amelia. She didn’t lean into it, so Olivia reclaimed it for herself.
“...well, it went like you said. She tried to talk me into abandoning it, and when that failed, she said she would only find me a buyer if I sent her money ahead of time. Six grand.”
Olivia nearly spat out the ice cream in her mouth. She caught it, but a little too late, and some red drool spluttered down her chin.
“What?!”
“I know! A bunch of people want a cut of the sale and I need to give it to them before the sale happens?! I don’t get it, but it’s stupid. And it’s stressing me out because even though it’s part of the plan… something… ah… shit…”
Her words sizzled out, hesitating somewhat at the next part.
“...something…?” Olivia repeated cautiously, “Did something go wrong?”
Olivia leaned in. She always smelled so sweet, but she smelled sweeter now that she had wildberries on her tongue. Those big, doe eyes on Amelia now. Beautiful doe eyes. If Amelia looked at them she wouldn’t be able to say anything, so she kept looking down at her boots. At the river. A river that just needed a few meters to swallow her up and carry her away. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it? Just to get lost in that big, swollen, blue river?
“Uh… there were… a lot of survivors from the ships we attacked, I guess. So now everyone knows what we did, and, uh… I have a big bounty on my head already.”
Olivia didn’t flinch. Amelia really wished she had. Shown some kind of sign of regret or remorse, since they both knew she was the one who was responsible. But Olivia was too composed for that. Too dignified. She wouldn’t easily betray her true feelings. Be they joy or sorrow, Amelia could only guess.
“Oh. Already? Well, I guess that saves us time…”
Anger.
There was the anger.
A vision popped in her head: standing up, grabbing Olivia by her stupid, graceful neck, and throwing her into the tree. Watching those thin little limbs snap under her as Amelia called her out on being a traitor and a bad friend, kicking and biting and punching until she was a crumpled, bloody, pulped mess that could only barely splutter out apologies over and over as she wailed in pain and regret. It was a vision that filled her with furious joy for a second, then horror and disgust the next, before oscillating back to rage — she might not hit Olivia, but there was one part of that fantasy she could fulfill.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means-”
“Do you want me all shades?! I know you’re the reason I already have a bounty, you disobeyed me!” She turned, grabbing what remained of the ice cream from Olivia’s hand and throwing it into the river. “Were you planning this the whole time?! Are you trying to force me into a shit situation so you can manipulate me?!”
“I-” Olivia gasped. “I would never, Amelia, I honestly did not think that!”
“How am I supposed to believe you?!”
Amelia was on her feet now, cornering Olivia in her seat. Olivia looked so small right now. Like a field mouse. Trembling in the shadow of a wild cat. She was frightened, and Amelia… kind of liked it. She felt like she could do anything right now, and Olivia wouldn’t be able to stop her.
“Okay. I hear you, Amelia,” Olivia begged, quietly, urgently whispering in a low, submissive tone. “I will not deny it. I did not kill everyone. I was just trying to save lives, though, I did not know it would hurt you like this. I swear.”
“This is why you do what I say!” Amelia pushed, baring her teeth and clenching her fists so tightly even her worthless, shattered hand was trying to close itself around its fingers, “I’m your captain before I’m your friend, Olivia! You don’t get to disobey me!”
“I am sorry. I will not do it again…”
Amelia hadn’t even realized how close she had gotten to Olivia. They were centimeters away. Only the thinnest of breezes could slip between their lips now. Olivia was still shrinking away. Trying to make herself smaller. Meeker. Amelia’s breath was heavy and hard, her lungs rising and falling so much their chests brushed up against each other occasionally… saints, why did she have to be so mad?! Why did this only happen when she was mad?!
With a frustrated roar, Amelia took a step back, crashing back into her side of the bench, furious and drenched and hopeless. As she fumed, Olivia slowly uncurled herself, and with her stupid delicate hands, touched Amelia’s shoulders. So friggen’ thin she could just… bite them off… suck the blood out of them…
“Amelia.”
“What?!”
“...how much do you trust me?”
“Right now?! Not at all!”
“I understand, it is just… look, however you might feel about how this situation, it is still part of the plan. You do not have to trust me, okay, but you have to trust the plan.”
She huffed, and barely glanced at Olivia from the corner of her eye.
“Do you trust the plan, Amelia?”
Amelia turned slightly more to Olivia. Still angry. Still flustered. Still drenched. Squeezing her thighs together as subtly as she could.
“Okay. I want to see something before I call her back.”
Bounties traveled fast in Cohenlay.
It wasn’t just that there was an ever-expanding need for slaves as the population of forced workers either died, escaped, or earned their freedom: the wide yet shallow pool of air pirate intrigue meant there was a lot of coin to be earned in striking when irons and tempers were at their hottest. It wasn’t uncommon for an underworld bounty to lose several zeros just because the person who posted it either calmed down, or stopped being wealthy enough to afford such a lavish price on a single decapitated head. Amelia rarely trafficked in underworld bounties herself, as she had a burning hatred for most crime families in this shithole country, and she understood that conviction was part of the reason she was considerably poorer than most of her peers.
In fact, underworld bounties were so commonplace that they were even posted in public forums, right alongside official bounties put out by the state. The cops even came close to encouraging it, since it typically meant one outlaw killing another and doing their job for them. Amelia wasn’t a criminal yet, but she was criminal enough to be unsurprised that nobody had protested putting her underworld bounty up in the Pelver post office, right next to all the other criminals.
In fact, she was more insulted that it was as low as it was.
“Seven ships in one night and they think I’m only worth 5,000?,” she muttered, crossing her arms under her cloak.
“5,000 for now. When word comes out on the eighth ship, you will get at least an extra zero.”
Amelia fidgeted under her cloak, giving Olivia another dirty, anger-soaked look.
“You never apologized for that, you know.”
“Yes I did, I said I was sorry.”
“No you didn’t!”
“I literally did, Amelia, it was 5 minutes ago I remember the conversation.”
“Well then say it again.
“Saints, I am sorry. Can we shut up before the clerk gets suspicious?!”
Olivia briskly exhaled and briefly glanced at the clerk. They were being watched, but thankfully the clerk was staring at her instead of Amelia: that meant she was being recognized and judged for her race, rather than Amelia’s deeds. Humanity’s attitude towards her people was awful most of the time, but occasionally, she was happy she provided some social camouflage for her much more dangerous friend.
“Why are we here, anyway?” Amelia whispered.
“I wanted to see your underworld bounty before the state figured out we attacked a bar boy ship. If it is just 5000, then Lao probably isn’t involved.”
“Why- are you still thinking about him!? Why are you so obsessed with-”
“He has my brother, Amelia.”
Amelia blinked at this, and turned to face her first mate fully.
“You have a brother?”
“Yes, a twin, and he has been captured by Lao and I want to rescue him, okay?!” Olivia whispered back, still staring straight ahead at the wanted poster, “I was trying to keep it a secret because I did not want you going to war with Lao for me but we are here now so I might as well tell the truth.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I just said why!”
At this point, the fact that a large, hooded figure and a goh were loitering by the door and whispering harshly to each other was making the woman behind the counter a little too nervous, and her hands began to dip below the counter to where some kind of gun was no doubt holstered. Olivia, noticing this first, grabbed Amelia’s arm and dragged her back outside, where they could bask in the setting sun that was supposed to signal the rest of her grounded crew that it was time to go back to the ship.
“Why does Lao have your brother?” Amelia asked — curiosity and concern superseding her rage and distrust. “Who even is your brother?”
“His name is Arthur, he is a professor, and I do not know! Probably gambling debts, the clueless idiot. None of that matters right now — all I wanted to tell you is that is why I want to go to Lao’s. But that doesn’t matter anyway, any dream of going to Lao needs to be put aside until we deal with this situation first.”
“Yeah, no shit!” Amelia actually did hit Olivia this time, but it was a gentle smack upside the head with her non-metal hand, “Wait, why do we care if Lao was behind my five grand bounty? Is this part of your plan?”
Olivia sighed, but it was patient, almost maternal, and she looked serenely calm as she turned to explain.
“Yes, actually, if you recall, this whole plan hinges on our ability to deceive people. If Lao is not behind our underworld bounty, it means we will have a much easier time. Trying to fool some bar boys and lesser criminals is a lot easier than trying to fool Lao.”
“Oh. So it’s a good thing.”
“Yes, Amelia.”
“...and then you want to do something about your brother, huh?”
“Yes, ‘something’ is an apt way of putting it. He is the only family I have left. I cannot just leave him there. You know that big… stupid party Lao holds every year? He also executes his captives on that day as part of the entertainment for his richer guests.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow.
“I, uh, didn’t know about that party, actually. How the hell do you?”
“Arthur told me. He must have sent the letter right before he was captured. Or after, and Lao wants me to come for some reason. Basically, a letter, that’s how I know.”
“A letter that’s almost definitely a trap.”
“I mean it could be? But why?!” Olivia was letting her guard down now: revealing the desperation and uncertainty that was also plaguing Amelia more openly. “What would Lao want with me? I am an ex-actress turned bounty hunter, my brother — I mean, he at least might know something Lao is interested in. But he is also a big, giant coward, so Lao wouldn’t need to hold me hostage or anything! One broken finger and he would tell the man everything he knew!”
“I understand the irony of me saying this, but this is a bad time to explode with emotional honesty,” Amelia put a hand on her hip, and looked up — somewhere in those clouds, her ship was waiting for her, and she needed to be on it.
“This is such a bad time, is it not?!”
“Well, let’s not do this stupid. We can still go to Lao’s Bay if-”
Their conversation came to an abrupt end when both Amelia and Olivia felt a rumbling beneath their feet: a tiny vibration that quickly escalated into a full-blown tremor. Amelia braced, and Olivia latched onto Amelia, securing themselves from being knocked over. The rumbling only lasted a few seconds, and by the time it was over, nothing much had come of it. The buildings were all intact, nobody had panicked, and the worst consequence would have probably been a few knocked-over knick-nacks on some unsecured shelf.
“There’s another one,” Amelia muttered.
“I hate those,” Olivia sighed, “I do not remember there being nearly this many earthquakes when I was growing up. It makes me nervous.”
“...huh. Anyway. I need to think about this Lao thing. But for the time being, you’d better get on the tele with Helen. If she leaves the telestation before you call we probably won’t hear from her again until tomorrow.”
“Of course. And you are needed on the ship.
Olivia looked as if a huge weight had slid off her chest, and reflected that with a relieved smile.
“Whatever else this world throws at us, we will always have each other. Right?”
“Y-yeah….” Amelia coughed, before slinging her backpack to her front and opening the flap, pulling out the balloon they’d use to reach their ship once more. “When’s Lao’s murder party?”
“I do not remember the date exactly, but it is soon.”
“Hm. So we don’t have a lot of time. This plan of yours better work.”
“For your sake more so than my brother’s. I’m sure he deserved whatever Lao did to him. You do not deserve what is happening to you.”
“There are people who would disagree,” Amelia replied flatly. “Use a flare when you pass the clouds. It’s going to be dark by the time you’re done.”
“I have done this before, silly. I will be fine.”
Amelia yanked the tab on the balloon, and it nearly instantly filled with that glorious gas they all knew and loved. She was up in the air moments later, foot perched on a humble wooden plank as she looked down at Olivia, locking eyes for a few lingering moments before turning her head upwards. The birds would ensure she was ferried directly to the ship, so she didn’t worry too much about steering: Just another benefit of having an army of corvids at your command.
Which meant it was Olivia’s time to do her thing.
“Helen Viceroy, please.”
“She’s currently on another call. Please wait.”
Ah, her angels had been kind this evening.
“Thank you.”
Olivia played with one of her lip rings, jiggling it with the tip of her tongue. It only took ten minutes before she had another use for her mouth.
“Big shot! You got that money already?”
“Good to hear from you, Helen.”
The voice on the other end of the telephone paused for a second. Adjusting itself, no doubt, for a different kind of conversation.
“Olivia! The golden girl herself. You still finding sunshine in cloudy skies, pal?”
“Sunshine, rainbows, and all the prettiest birds,” Olivia hummed, “There’s been a slight change of plans. Have your buyers meet us at Fort Lagstrand. We’re selling the military ship and we won’t take less for it than 18,000 good coin.”
“Saints balls, sunshine. 18,000 is a lot. Sure, it’s military, but it also makes you a target. It’s a liability, you know? You should be paying us to get rid of it for you.”
“Is it a lot?” Olivia pondered.
“Hell yeah it’s a lot! I asked for 6,000 from Amelia because I know how much it would go for. Not a coin over 10k.”
Olivia smiled into the receiver. She never considered herself to be a great schemer or mastermind, but it did feel good to have the pieces fall into place.
“So you do know someone who would buy it for ten?”
“Not ten exactly. More like nine and a half. One of the cuts was to pay them for even being there. A ‘we’re not wasting your time’ fee, you know what I mean?”
“Yes, I understand, but it’s not important. You already have a buyer in mind, and I know the kind of people you typically work for. They don’t need a military ship either. So if I had to guess, they only plan to resell it for a much higher price to another buyer. Am I right, or am I right?”
Silence on the other end.
“I wasn’t lying, Olivia, it puts you in danger. We’re still doing you a favor.”
“But we both know there aren’t a lot of new military ships on the market. We also know that this thing could easily be sold for six figures when you take it out of Cohenlay airspace. We shouldn’t be expecting anything less than 50k, but we’ll accept eighteen due to our current circumstances, and you’ll accept eighteen because you don’t want to disappoint these buyers, now do you?”
None of this was incredibly important in the grand scheme of her plan. But so long as Helen was convinced that Olivia was trying to wring as much coin out of her purse as possible, she wouldn’t be nearly as mindful about all the other details she was letting slip. But that wasn’t to say it was entirely unimportant: they still planned to sell the ship, in a manner of speaking, so Amelia wanted these numbers as high as they could possibly get.
“...fine. Eighteen. But her water and Ayarium tanks better be full.”
“They’ll be fit to burst. We should be at Fort Lagstrand in two days. We’ll stay there five days to wait for the buyers. Excited to do business, as always!”
“Wait, wait, don’t hang up: why Fort Lagstrand? I was thinking you should come to Nagsbrow. It’s more convenient for the buyers.”
And Olivia smiled yet again. Nagsbrow was Yanglen terf. She had suspected and hoped they were the ones who wanted the ship, and now she was close to certain that was the case. Perfect.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Nagsbrow is in the middle of Cohenlay, we’d be spotted towing in the military ship and every party involved would be in deep trouble. Fort Lagstrand, on the other hand, is a deeply corrupt town closer to the Tazmani border. Since I’m fairly positive the only people who could afford to buy the military ship at a fair price lives in Tazmani, I’d say it’s more convenient for all parties involved, including whoever you plan to resell it to. Don’t you agree?”
Olivia was more than just fairly positive. Kiliston, the nation south of Cohenlay, had clear skies because there wasn’t a damn thing in that gutted swampland except a surplus of White Eyes and the occasional burst of rancid swamp gas. Meanwhile, Reignguard, to the north, was engaged in a civil war, and while at first it might seem like the rebel faction would be overeager to buy a military airship, they couldn’t use it in the conflict without delegitimizing their claim to being the true rulers of the land. After all, the ‘true’ rulers of Reinguard are as beholden as any other ruler of any other nation to the laws of the church, and therefore must tithe their best military tech to the barricade up north. Giving up an airship would be a political statement with some merit, but if that ship was obviously stolen from Cohenlay, that would do more harm than good.
It wouldn’t be impossible to find a buyer in either country, of course. But if you were planning to resell it for a hefty payday, there was only one realistic choice.
“I… but…”
“It’s okay to admit it when I have a good idea, you know.”
Silence on the other end of the phone again. She needed a little help to push her over the edge… and a way to ensure Helen wouldn’t resent her for all this.
“...you know, you’ve been really helpful so far.” Olivia hummed, “I know this has been hard work and all — when was the last time Amelia paid you? I’m pretty sure we’re behind, right?”
“...yeah, now that you bring it up, I’m checking my books and, heh, there’s a missing payment.”
“That’s terrible. How about while you set up our meeting at Fort Lagstrand, I make sure you’re paid. I’ll transfer money to your account right after this call, alright?”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Mhm. So we’re good for Fort Lagstrand?”
“The clients are called the Yanglens. They’ll be there in three days.”
Perfection. She could kiss her angels on the mouth.
“Great. Have a good night, Helen.”
“You too, sunshine.”
She hung up the phone, and took a deep breath.
Looks like a call to the bank was in order before she went back to Amelia.
Transferring money between bank accounts wasn’t too difficult in this era of modern technology, as long as both parties were operating within the same bank and the payer knew all the right codes and numbers. Notes and a good memory helped with the latter, and the former was assumed as just about every criminal — and people of ill-refute, like bounty hunters — in Northeast Pugana used Proud Kiliston International Bank, the most corrupt and least-policed network of money you could find on the continent. They were so bad, if their name was on the corner of a check you wrote to the church, you’d be liable to be arrested on the spot… and chances are, you’d deserve it.
Fortunately, most businesses didn’t feel obligated to police the moral character of their customers, as coin was coin no matter where it came from.
Still, it took a while, and by the time Olivia was back in the air, night had well and truly settled in. She had to hold the flare a little longer than she was comfortable with before one of the crows found her, and it pecked her face a lot more than she was comfortable with while it steered her balloon back to the ship. But she had considerably more tolerance for the crow’s abuse in these situations, and she only had to deal with it for a few minutes before she stepped onto an empty deck, not missing the cold of this altitude in the slightest.
Below deck, at least, things were rowdier. The crew had to spend at least some time that night cleaning up the mess from their all-night crusade, and they were still in the process of fighting over the possessions of the dearly departed. Neither Natty nor Louis had next of kin that anyone knew of, but the empty spot where they slept made Olivia feel a tinge of sadness. She made a point to keep distant from most of the crew to make these exact moments easier to bear, but even if she felt nothing for them personally, it was always tragic for a life to end (especially a young life, in Natty’s case) before a soul could make peace with the Saints. And now those two would have an eternity to lament their decision.
She couldn’t remember if the church ever said there was hope for salvation for those damned in life, but she couldn’t imagine they would lament in hell forever. Heaven was supposed to be free of grudges, after all…
“Welcome back”, Cameron signed at her, being the first and seemingly only person to acknowledge her arrival.
“Thanks. Amelia where?”, she signed back.
He pointed to the captain’s quarters, which should have been obvious. But she was tired. She signaled thanks once again, and weaved between Wrech and Richard’s arm-wrestling match to find Amelia exactly where Cameron had said: there was a lot of new stuff in here, seemingly brought over from the military ship they had just captured. Notably, however, all of it had been destroyed, ripped apart in a furious, one-sided melee that left all the former captain’s possessions in a ruined heap in the middle of Amelia’s room. Wasteful, but it’s not as if they were getting paid a bonus to keep the thing furnished.
Olivia stepped over the table, which had been cracked in half, and closed the distance between herself and her captain.
“Hey, I-”
Amelia’s face, which had been buried in her hands, shot up.
“...er, I reached a deal with Helen. Yanglen’s people will be at Fort Lagstrand in a few days. We are going to sell the ship there.”
“Did she take any more cuts?” Amelia mumbled.
“I sent her a little bribe, but no. We are getting 18,000 for the ship.”
The relief on her face never manifested. She looked every bit as worried and tired as she did before.
“I don’t get it. How were you able to make her cooperate with a small bribe and get 18k for the ship, but she wouldn’t do a thing unless I sent her 6k first? Heck, she even tried to talk me into abandoning it!”
“You are not nasty enough for this business,” Olivia’s expression softened somewhat, “Look at it this way: she wanted you to ghost the ship because she knew where you would ghost it, and could pick it up before anyone else. That’s a free payday. Once she saw that was not going to work, she knew you were more desperate to get rid of it than she was to take it. The 6k was just to make you feel the pressure. And to make you grateful when she inevitably accepted less a few days from now.”
“...okay…”
“As for the money, well, that was just timing. After you hung up she set up other deals with other parties to buy the ship. So she made some big promises and now was expected to deliver. That is when we reverse our fortunes and apply pressure oureselves. Get it now?”
“...uh… yeah, sure. Whatever,” Amelia grunted, a little too distracted to be properly impressed.
“I take it you are still thinking about Lao, huh?” Olivia smiled softly, hoping to recharge her friend a little with some kindness.
“How much debt does your brother have?”
“I don’t know. But you do not get put in Lao’s personal prison for a small amount.” She shrugged, “So more than we could comfortably afford, I’m sure.”
“But you’d be comfortable with trying to break him out and putting a noose around my neck?”
Olivia had nothing to say to that. She just stood quietly, that soft smile softly fading.
“That’s the dot of your whole plan, right? If it works, I’ll still probably have a huge underworld bounty to deal with. Pirates are vengeful and shit, y’know?”
“Not pirates, gangsters. The Yanglens.”
Amelia’s tired stare turned dryer. A little more intense. A little more annoyed. The Yanglens were one of the bigger crime families in the country, focused mostly on illegal slaving, drug running, draft dodging, and anything else that involved moving people one place to another. They were capable of doing good, like helping illegal homosexuals escape persecution and, ironically, helping slaves escape their service, but that was all done in service of coin, not morals. And what’s more, they were well known for being cocky, egotistical, clever, and powerful enough to justify that arrogance.
“Outlaws, then. Whatever. Criminals. But look, something’s been bugging me since I came back up here, how will we know the Yanglens themselves will be coming? Why wouldn’t they just send henchmen or whatever?”
Olivia took a seat next to her, at the very edge of the bed. Her assorted jewelry and piercings chimed against each other as she settled in, and leaned closer, yet still respectfully distant, from her companion.
“Well…” She continued, “there is no guarantee, of course. But I suspect they will want to turn around and resell the ship as soon as they possibly can. And with Lao’s big party coming up, I am sure that ship would be as good an excuse as any for the Yanglens to show up. In fact, the timing of everything is close to perfect.”
“That’s assuming they don’t betray us before we betray them. They might want to turn me in for my bounty, after all.”
“Sure. But you could beat them in a fight, right?”
“Effortlessly.”
“In that case, all we have to do is outthink them, and I think we are doing a good job of that right now.”
“I don’t know, Olivia.” Amelia snapped, “I’m still a pretty deep shade after all the shit you’ve pulled recently. I thought we were supposed to share everything with each other, and then I find out you’re trying to manipulate me into going to Lao, and actively sabotaging me by not killing the people that need to be dead, and hiding the fact you had a twin brother. It’s been a very bad afternoon, Olivia. If you were anyone else, your skull would be my new wristband.”
That was a vivid image, all the more because Olivia had seen Amelia do that before. But it wasn’t much of a deterrent from the indignation she was feeling, and she pushed on regardless.
“Hold on now, Amelia, that is terribly unfair. I did not ‘manipulate’ you into going to Lao, I made a suggestion and you thought it was a good one.”
“You didn’t tell me about the card with the news of the prince on it!”
“Because I did not see it! I said that already! Maybe someone in the crew was looking at it when I got my hands on the newspaper, but I was not trying to trick you! Also, I did agree to keep no secrets from you, but my brother is not a secret, he is typically a… unimportant nothing. You knowing about him wouldn’t help you run a better ship. Or are you angry that I didn't write a biography about every detail of my life and give it to you?”
Amelia huffed. She was mad. If she wasn’t so mad, she might realize that Olivia being so willing to speak up against her was a sign of trust, which might have even cheered her up. But Olivia didn’t feel like pointing that out right now.
“And the lipstick business?” The captain snarled.
“It was a mistake, Amelia. I messed up. But it was a result of carelessness on my part, not malice. You can be angry at me for being stupid, but not for betraying you. I would never do that, you are the most important person in my life right now.”
Amelia was pacing. Her fingers brushed against the cleaved table, and almost on instinct, she latched onto it, picking it up and giving it a hard throw into the wall. It splintered on contact, and nearly put a hole through the wall as well. The inevitable price of using lightweight wood.
“And… saints, do I have to say it? I do not want to kill anybody. I do not want to fight anyone. I hate this. I hate that we do this fully aware we are just… one step removed from being slavers like the Yanglens, and I just wanted to damn my soul a little bit less. I am sorry it screwed you over, if I had realized it, I would have… I would have killed them, okay? But I cannot go back, so I am not sorry for what I did.”
“How am I supposed to trust you now?! We agreed we’d do whatever we had to in order to survive, didn’t we?!”
“Did we have to do that, Amelia?” Olivia asked, “Or did you just want to?”
“No, good point. You don’t have to do anything, do you? Why don’t you just go back to Michael and Bob! I’m sure they’d love to see you again! ” She ripped the fake nose off her face and threw it to the ground, “Remember what they said the last time they saw me?!”
How could Olivia forget that. Those two were more responsible for their damnation than even the people who put them here in the first place. She’d sooner rip all the gold from her body than give an ounce of herself to those traitorous monsters. And she felt very stupid for letting the reality of Amelia’s situation slip from her mind, if even for a moment.
“I have not forgotten. I am sorry.”
“You want to save your soul, get off my ship!” Her voice was cracking and drenched, like thunder in a hurricane, “But if you meant it when you said you’d stay by me, then cut the throats I tell you to cut! The ship to heaven and hell depart the same day! It’s one or the other, you understand?!”
“I understand. I am sorry.”
“I just-”
She huffed.
“I mean-”
She huffed again, but this time with passion.
“Just get out of here. I need to calm down. Do the plan or whatever.”
“Right. And this plan is going to work, Amelia. I promise.”
She quickly got to her feet and, using the avenue created for her by Amelia, quickly ducked out the door, closing it behind her. She took a large swallow of air, happy for it to be so cold for once, before turning back to the mess, where a small crowd had gathered to watch the drama unfold.
Oh, right. They were never alone on this damn ship.
Ugh, she hated it here.
“You want to pick a fight with Lao?!” Rachel belted out over the cacophony of conversation, looking two parts mortified and one part confused.
“Girlfriend problems?” Cameron signed with a cheeky little grin.
“Tsh. A pet that misbehaves is still a pet,” Richard muttered under his breath; it was a little hard to make out what he had to say, but Olivia made a particular point to pay attention to his opinion on the matter. Perhaps because she was a masochist.
If it was just one person making a scene, she could threaten the lash, or rule over them with her authority as first mate. But she couldn’t threaten the whole crew like that: they already didn’t respect her, and her trying to intimidate them would just be a recipe for a mutiny. So she put up her hands to quiet them down, and plastered a calming smile on her face.
“I do not want to pick a fight with Lao. I just need to deal with him. There is context to this story you guys didn’t hear, there is no need to riot over it.”
“Well what’s the context then?!” Richard demanded.
“If it mattered to you, we would have told you by now. This is a personal matter.”
“Michal and Bob who?” Victor signed.
“Michal and Bob are old employers. From our old life, before this. I will have no more questions on them,” she spoke and signed at the same time.
“Who didn’t you kill?” Richard demanded, again.
“Again, it does not matter to you.”
She started walking forward, worried that this Q&A session would stir the dragon, such as it was. The last thing Amelia needed now was to be disturbed by these questions, and the last thing the crew wanted was to be threatened into submission by someone they did actually fear and respect.
“You say that, but are our fates not bound to yours, little vexer?” Isabelle pushed through the crowd — actually shutting most of the crew up, as she had earned the respect Olivia lacked, “We hear talk of trust and betrayal, Lao and the unmurdered, words that go straight to the stomach, and you say it has nothing to do with us? It is a small ship. No one can even fart without disturbing their neighbor.”
Olivia didn’t have the mental capacity to try to translate that “stomach” bit, but from context she knew it was probably just ‘bad’. She also didn’t know if the fart thing was also an idiom or Isabelle being literal, but… she wasn’t wrong in the latter case.
“It was a private conversation, Isabelle, so yes, it has nothing to do with you. Everything that does relate to your jobs and lives will be discussed in a public forum. And there will be a discussion on what we are doing next, with breakfast, tomorrow. Tonight, we all need to get some sleep.”
“Buying time for that little mind of yours to concoct a neat excuse?” Isabelle pushed, taking another bold step forward, her face glistening with pus, having gone a few hours without the attention of her flock, “I think we would all be very interested to hear the facts unmolested by your conniving little tongue, vexer.”
“There is nothing to… molest…?” Olivia lost the thread of that one, “The facts are simple, we are going to Fort Lagstrand, we are going to sell the new ship, and unload some of our merchandise. There’s the possibility of a fight, because Amelia has a bounty now and will probably get another soon. All we will be doing tomorrow is going over our battle plan if that should happen.”
“Why’d she get a bounty?” Richard asked, only to be smacked by Isabelle. Not because what he said was offensive, but because it betrayed his deep, deep stupidity. In response, Olivia gestured broadly in the direction of the military ship, and Richard could only mumble under his breath, trying to curse away the humiliation.
“...anyway. Like I said, it is time for lights out. If you want to try and ‘get me’ with more questions, I suggest you think them over tonight,” she slipped through the crowd with a practiced deftness her lithe form afforded her, extinguishing the lanterns one by one. “Sleep well.”
The crowd dispersed, although the conversation between them took longer to putter out. In fact, mutterings and whispering continued well into the night, which never bode well for the authority figures on a ship. Still, all Olivia could do was lie in her hammock, wait until almost everyone had gone to bed, then sneak into the hold, to get some alone time with the subject of her most important deception yet.
Amelia didn’t really sleep anymore.
She had a terrible and undeniable feeling in her gut that if she were to ever fall asleep, something very bad would happen. It was an ominous anxiety that lurked just beyond her vision in every moment of her life, sometimes utterly in focus, other times barely a distant feeling, but always there. So, unbeknownst to anyone else, she didn’t. She had managed to find some way to live her life without sleeping. She’d spend all night just laying in her bed or pacing the ship, staring at the ceiling, helping the arms along until it was reasonable for her to wake her crew up, usually with a shout, a threat, or a bang — whichever grabbed her fancy that specific morning.
Today, she woke everyone up by dragging Wrech out of bed and kicking his stomach so hard his breathless gasp pierced even the deepest sleeper’s dreams.
And the moment Olivia opened her eyes, she realized why.
Someone had placed a knife on her chest in the middle of the night. Pointed up. Directly at her throat.
“Someone’s got a really funny sense of humor, huh?!”
Amelia grabbed the next person she could reach, being Rachel, and slammed her into the ground before she could even scream a protest. She gave the poor engineer the same punt to the stomach.
“Someone here thinks they could threaten my first mate?! Attempt mutiny against the wolf Amelia Leven?!”
Cameron was trying to sign something, but without the needles in his fingers, he was incomprehensible. Just a fumble of fingers and a panicked look on his face that only grew worse when Amelia grabbed him as well.
“Who was it?!” She barked as she tossed him into the pit of writhing bodies at her feet, “Who’s knife is that?!”
“It belongs to Richard,” Olivia called, more exasperated than worried, “Only he’s stupid enough to threaten mutiny without actually going through with it.”
Like a starved tiger, Amelia turned to a pale-as-death Richard, who in turn turned to Isabelle. She looked conflicted. Richard probably only did something so brazen and stupid because he figured his mother would protect him the way she had before. She rolled her eyes, but did step up, putting her frail body between Richard’s shivering form and the rampaging Amelia.
“Look at this creature, so blind for blood she cannot see the cliff she runs to,” Isabelle snorted, stepping forward. “Use what little sense may rest between those ears, wolf. Your crew is already discontent and impatient with your outbursts. Would you use dynamite to kill a rabbit now of all times?”
Amelia needed to take several long, deep breaths, none of which would have accomplished much if Olivia’s cool hand wasn’t pressed to her friend’s back, which tempered the inferno burning through her body to a comparatively simple wildfire. It would still have burnt any normal person to cinders, but Amelia couldn’t recall a time she wasn’t burning in some form or fashion.
“...he threatened mutiny, Isabelle,” she finally snarled.
“He threatened Olivia. Stupid and unproductive but not meritless,” Isabelle retorted with a grimace, “Olivia, who suffered no punishment nor penalty for injuring his leg and killing two of our own. Olivia, who put a bounty on our heads and the law on our back. ‘Blood for blood’, were those your words, Amelia? When will we see that goh pay her share?”
Isabelle’s words didn’t hurt Olivia, because she knew the old woman was just trying to break out all the stops to protect Richard from being beaten half to death or worse. But even if she could compartmentalize the guilt and pain, she knew the witch was also correct. This hadn’t been fair.
Amelia was about to say something. Judging by the tension in her arms, she was moments away from splattering Isabelle’s face across the deck. So Olivia swept up in front of the old woman and nodded.
“She is right, Amelia. If you want to punish Richard, first you have to punish me. I made a mistake the other night. As a member of your crew, I should be lashed for it.”
The idea snapped Amelia out of her one-track fury, especially as Olivia started to slip off her robes, exposing her painted back, thus far unscarred and unmarred by their years of traveling the hostile skies.
“I believe in this situation it would call for at least twenty-five, would it not?”
The suggestion was so outlandish to Amelia that she almost forgot what she had been so angry about in the first place. It would have been like waking up and finding the ocean and the clouds had switched places, or that the Path had eaten the sun. This was not the intimate, almost tempting violence she had shamefully experienced on the ground in a moment of fear and weakness. This was downright impossible to comprehend.
“...don’t be stupid. I’m not- I’d never-”
“-then let Richard’s threat be my punishment, and let this whole matter drop,” Olivia replied forcefully, feeling a little emboldened at this chance to show some solidarity with the crew, even if it meant siding with that little weasel of a man.
He was looking away. He had skipped right over being grateful for her intervention and gone straight to being indignant at being saved by a goh.
Amelia took a deep breath once more… then stepped forward, bowling over Olivia and Isabelle both to grab Richard by the throat. He screamed, Isabelle wailed, Olivia gasped, and the rest of the crew cowered: but the bloodshed that had seemed so inevitable just moments ago never came. She held him in the air for a moment, calculating, before throwing him to the ground the same way she had done for Wrech and Rachel moments before.
She put a foot on his chest and leaned close, saliva dripping from her dentures.
“...Olivia’s the only reason you still have a face right now. Be grateful. But if you- if any of you- try something like this again? There’s not enough grace in all the heavens to spare you my wrath.”
She kicked him to his side, then turned back to Isabelle.
“...there you go. He’s unhurt. You’re welcome.”
“Stupid and spineless my son may be, but my son he remains, Amelia. I am running out of reasons to continue to tolerate your abuse, and your whore of a pet.”
“My pet just saved your son’s life,” their captain spat again, “and you’re getting paid soon. That’s reason enough. Get your damn breakfast and meet me on the deck in twenty. Olivia, captain’s quarters.”
Olivia got out of her hammock and followed behind Amelia, looking behind her at the rest of the crew. Some were confronting — or perhaps congratulating — Richard for his plan, while Wrech and Rachel were simply trying to recompose themselves after being awoken with a punt to the gut. This being the second day this week where Amelia had to assert herself over the crew with such brutal physicality bode poorly. And it was with some very strong trepidation that she closed the door behind her, functionally locking herself in a room with a woman who was moments away from murder.
“Plan.”
“We are not going to talk about what just happened?”
“Plan, Olivia. How’s the plan going?”
“Yes, it is going fine, I did more work for it last night. But Richard is an important part of it and Isabelle is now every bit as likely to betray us before we can betray the Yanglens.”
“What Richard did was inexcusable!” She turned on her heel, locking eyes and nearly butting heads with Olivia, “And you shouldn’t have put yourself out there for him!”
“I do not even know if it was Richard!” She protested back, eyes drifting down to the knife in her hand, retrieved from her chest. “I mean… it was his knife… and he does hate me. But he could have been framed…”
“Who hates Richard more than Richard hates you, huh?!”
“I mean…” Olivia scoffed, “Every girl on the ship. Although I guess… that’s just three girls now, not counting his mother.”
“That’s n… wait, even Rachel?” Amelia’s brow furrowed, getting completely distracted from the matter at hand, “When did he hit on her?”
“A few months back, not important right now.”
“But a few months back he was sleeping with Natty.”
“This was immediately after they broke up! And this is not the time for crew gossip!”
“Well it’s no time for you to be second-guessing yourself either. It’s his knife, he didn’t deny it, and even his mother thinks he did it! How much longer does this plan need exactly?!”
With what little time was afforded them, Olivia laid out how the plan was progressing, and what needed to happen next. Amelia was obviously not mentally capable of really comprehending the nuances, as she was still every shade of red Heaven ever imagined, but she needed something, anything, to remind her that this was all going to be worth it. And by the time Olivia had finished talking, she had some hope that this was going to work, at the very least.
It was a two day flight to Fort Lagstrand.
They had to make the most of it.
