The Last Swan of Sage Lake
A review by Ham Savvy*
If there were any doubts that Bob and Michal Shangsly were the premier talent in Cohenaly’s budding theater scene, this breathtaking re-imagining of the old classic, The Last Swan of Sage Lake, decidedly dispels them. In my humble three-year tenure as the cultural editor here at the Wild North, I’ve yet to have seen any display of theatrics or drama that could rival this production. Every element of this performance, from the outstanding theater, to the breathtakingly imaginative set design, to every actor who’s lucky enough to operate under their inspired guidance: it was a non-stop barrage of spectacle and wonder that will make you book your seats for the next showing well before you’re even finished with the first.
Those who think they know the too-familiar story of Gale Whiteheart and her cabin by Sage Lake best be rid of those old-fashioned notions: this version of the story has been rewritten to include more of the stuff modern audiences want to see! Instead of melancholy meditations of the fleeting nature of beauty and how efforts to preserve it inevitably lead to greater depths of tragedy, there’s swashbuckling action, whirlwind romances, a few hilarious soliloquies, and a brand-new lovable character by way of Mr. Huckaduck, a talking frog with a heart of gold. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and you’ll wonder why the original story was ever as beloved as it was.
Among the cast, there is not a single dull star, but special attention needs to be spared for relative newcomer to the world of theater, Abram Gangswallow, who absolutely steals the show with his new ‘hip’ version of Montrello, the Blind Ferryman. Also noteworthy is Ferro Ashlen, who has a remarkable voice that carries well outside the theater, and Juliet Jeniplaf, who gives the men and women in the audience something to think about at home in their sheets. And a Goh woman of remarkable pluck stands out as the lead role of Gale Whiteheart.
I’d say “if you only go to one theater production this year, make it The Last Swan of Sage Lake”, but in truth, dear readers, I’m sure the Shangsly brothers will have another brilliant production ready before the end of the year, and I’d hate for you to miss it. So instead, let me just give this production my wholehearted, untarnished recommendation, and say that I will spend many sleepless nights waiting for what comes next for these two musical Malarones.
*This review has been sponsored by the Shagsly Brothers theater company.
Franklin had run the events of that night over in his head so many times, the truth and his own fiction were starting to blend together.
He had never been in an airship before that day. He had heard they were dangerous, and the skies were basically a lawless hellscape, but he had no choice in the matter: they urgently needed men and ships in the sky to try and find the renegade prince, who had gone missing on some commercial vessel heading out from Samuella. The first day they mostly just went over protocol, how to operate a ship of that size and complexity, all while keeping an eye out for any kind of vessel that shared their skies and could be hiding the prince. They spotted two such airships, both were boarded, and both said they were also looking for the prince. The fact that they also happened to be criminals had to be overlooked for the sake of the mission.
It didn’t sit well with him at all. In hindsight, he wished he’d spoken out more. There was no point in wasting a good opportunity to arrest killers just because they might broaden the net in an effort to save the prince, likable as he was, from his own bad choices, was there?
Regardless, their search came up naught. They were given instructions to move west the next day, when the sun was up, and to simply take the rest of the night off. “There can be no searching or sailing when the sun goes down”, they were told. The nights were too dark. Too dangerous. Even a single light, they said, could draw out the worst from the crooks they failed to arrest earlier that day.
And that was the part that stuck with him most. Did someone leave a light on? Did he leave a light on? Or were the nights just not as dark as he was told? Because the next thing he knew, they were being attacked. Just three people, but three people was enough, it seemed, when they were packing enough knock-out gas to put an elephant to sleep. After thirty seconds of chaos, the next time he opened his eyes, he was chained to the wall in the hold of another ship, surrounded by strangers, and loomed over by some sickly-smelling pickled corpses with ghoulish, wretched, painted faces.
He spent the first day getting a hold of the situation: whenever their warden (a puffy-faced redhead who didn’t really speak but never stopped smiling) wasn’t around, he would talk to the people he was chained with. A few were his fellow Bar Boys — the only survivors, he could only assume — who had the same experience as him: new to the sky, woken by the sound of a dud bomb in their cabin, followed by a brief fight before getting knocked out again by some kind of chemical attack. Everyone else couldn’t even say that much. They were just pirates who fell asleep in their hammocks and woke up here, with most of their crew missing. The only person who had anything more to add was a shaken young woman, who told him that she watched a ‘wolf-faced monster’ kill a man who tried to violate the mute next to her, screaming something about ‘not touching the merchandise’.
So they were merchandise. Which probably meant they were slaves, on their way to some horrible new home in some faraway place. Which meant he needed to find some way off before that happened. He was a survivor, the saints would know, and he did not survive four years at the barricade just to meet his end at some sugar plantation in Kiliston.
All he needed was an opportunity.
And that opportunity came that very night.
It was impossible to know what time it was: but the fact that no light leaked in when the hatch from the mess opened meant it must have been well into the night. And the fact that the person who was entering the hold was making a point to close the latch as quietly as they could meant that they weren’t supposed to be here… or at least, didn’t want to be caught.
“Hello, um…” a tiny, but exotically beautiful voice reached his ears, “I-is anyone awake…? I… have oranges…”
Silence, at first. Of course no one was going to say anything.
“P-please someone take some oranges, I, I thought you’d like them and if- if he finds out I got extra oranges he’ll ask why and I’ll get in trouble…”
The tremble in her voice didn’t seem to carry far, but it penetrated him like a bullet. He couldn’t imagine a voice so sweet and innocent could exist in this world, let alone in this lawless sky he was taught to fear, and yet, there it was. Like an angel in the flesh. It seems he wasn’t the only one, because a few people muttered something to show they were awake, himself included. And as they did, this shadow of a woman passed between them, crouching next to each unwilling passenger and delivering mouth-watering, quenching oranges to each.
Until she reached him.
The dark obscured her features, and her figure. But as she crouched next to him, he could make her out a little better: she was still mostly a shade, but what little light did exist reflected brilliantly on the many gold trinkets that went through and hung on her skin. She must have been a goh, which explained her meek, innocent nature: those creatures had a well-deserved reputation for their subservient nature, especially when dealing with humans. It was one of their more admirable qualities, by his estimation. Like a good dog.
“...oh no,” her voice quivered again, “I’m… I’m so sorry, I’m out of oranges.”
“It’s okay,” he croaked, his voice dry from too much talking without the water to justify it.
“No, it’s not okay! You were looking forward to oranges, and, and you’re in such a terrible position. If I hadn’t been so stupid and ate one of the oranges myself, you, you could have had some too. I’m so sorry…”
As her airy, cooing voice wafted over him, he could smell the juicy, tangy taste of oranges on her breath. It was cooling and refreshing in ways he couldn’t have imagined breath to be. He bet… if he could just lean forward and kiss her, he could have gotten a fine taste of that sweet flesh. But now wasn’t the time for that, and he shook such tempting thoughts from his head. This waif might be his ticket off the ship…
“You deserve oranges too, you know,” he smiled, for what little it mattered when it was so dark, “it must be hard doing what you do.”
“Oh, I hate it. I hate it every day…” she sighed, “I’m… I’m kind of like a slave myself, you see. And it hurts my heart to see people suffer like this… I wish I could just… get away from all this… but no, I’m just being silly. I’m sorry about the oranges. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“Heh, you could let me go.”
“I wish I could…” she sighed again, sliding a little closer to him. He could see her wide, doe-like eyes through the darkness now, a beautiful shade of light ocean blue, like at the crystal-clear tropical beaches you read about in the paper: but these, these were far better, because they were actually here, in front of him. “But… Mr. Yanglen, my boss, he’s so scary. If I tried to let you go and we got caught, why… he…”
Those beautiful eyes started to tear up, swelling with emotion from the mere thought of what would happen. His purpose caught in his throat, and he leaned as forward as he could to better close that distance, and give them another centimeter of what little privacy they had in a place like this.
“It’s okay, it’s okay! I was joking. Of course I can’t expect you to let me go.”
“I still wish I could…” she huffed, before biting her lower lip in thought: it was somehow playfully childish and impossibly erotic, and his heart stopped in his chest for a minute, “Um… I, I don’t think I can be here any longer, but I’ll bring you something extra special tomorrow, when Clementine isn’t around. Is that okay…?”
“I look forward to it, but only if you promise to talk to me again.”
She smiled, her eyes still watering from her earlier flash of terror.
“I… I don’t know why you’d want to, but… I’ll try…”
Her eyes locked onto his for a moment, two moments, three moments more than necessary, before she slowly stood up and tip-toed through the hold back to the deck. He watched her go, his heart aflutter with both the possibility of escape… and the possibility for something more.
While the guy next to him had to live in dread of another day of that tomorrow.
When prisoner on a slave ship, it was fortunate to even have something, anything, to look forward to, however small it may be or however narrow the road of hope it provided was. It also, sadly, meant the days were all the slower as he continued to glance at the latch to the hold, waiting for any signs that she might be arriving.
After breakfast was when she made her first appearance, slowly opening the hatch: he watched her take the first few steps down the ladder before suddenly stopping, a new voice from above stopping her in her tracks.
“Wippiyeu, what are you doing?” The disembodied voice said, barely audible, drowned by distance and engine alike.
“Uh- uh, I-I thought I would, um… just check on the merchandise?”
“That’s Clementine’s job. Get out of there unless you want to be shackled up with them.”
“Sorry…”
She climbed back out and closed the latch behind her, leaving Franklin alone and hopeless once again, save the impossible idea that she might try later. But his angels had a habit of making the impossible possible, and while the guy next to him was being hosed down on the deck by their warden after vomiting up his lunch, the Goh woman took the chance to sneak below deck again, this time being much faster to close the latch above her.
And finally, he got a good look at the goh: she was every bit as beautiful as he imagined. Goh were strange creatures, with wide eyes, narrow frames, long appendages, and flat features: generally, he found them to be more unnerving than anything else. But she bucked those previous assumptions — she had a glow about her that was hard for him to ignore, a softness to her face that made her seem doll-like. Plus, for a goh, she had an alluring plumpness to her lips and hips that made her seem a bit more feminine than most of her kind. She was a prize, and he could definitely see why this ‘Mr. Yanglen’ would keep her around for himself.
Her every step was dainty and mannered as she walked up to him, and she let out the most adorable mewl as she knelt so they were at eye level. Then she shared with him a smile he could only describe as blinding.
“Wow. You’re much more handsome in the daylight.”
“You should see me when I’m actually clean.”
She giggled, her face growing flush — a little shy, a little embarrassed, but even as she glanced away, her eyes kept darting back to his, before she finally settled on looking at the floor between them: the only way she could keep herself from blushing too much, he assumed.
“Um, I got some hard candy,” she unfolded her petite, lithe hand, revealing a number of small wrapped treats — common and popular among the kids on the ground. She carefully unwrapped one in a clumsily sheepish yet seductively tender manner and pinched it between two pillowy soft fingers. “Please, if it’s not too weird… open your mouth.”
He did as she instructed, his tongue lolling out slightly. She peaked up, glanced back down when she felt her face grow red once more, and slowly inched her fingers forward. Just before she could drop the candy on his tongue, though, she pulled away, her face seemingly erupting with embarrassment.
“This is so much harder in the daytime!” She squeaked, “p-please close your eyes!”
He did as she asked, closing his eyes while his mouth stayed open. He couldn’t see her this time, but he could still feel the heat of her embarrassment, and he could even almost taste her skin as her fingers hesitated over his tongue, breathing in her strangely perfumed scent. She didn’t keep him waiting for long, though, because eventually he did feel her press the candy onto his tongue with a delicacy and intent that was akin to a priestess offering a bleating lamb to the shrine of a pagan god. And he definitely knew she kept her fingers there just a little longer than she needed to, and pulled them away with just the tiniest shiver of hesitation.
“O-okay… is it good?”
He flicked the candy into his mouth and swished it around: it was fine, really. A lump of crystallized sugar with a faint fruity flavor that vanished after a few seconds of dissolving in the saliva. He’d had them a hundred times before, and while he would like to say this one was somehow sweeter than all the others, it really wasn’t. In fact, it seemed intolerably dull compared to the woman who had fed it to him, and he swallowed it after only a few seconds.
“Yeah,” he smiled, “it is.”
“Do you want another?”
“Please.”
As before, he opened his mouth, his eyes still closed, and waited for her to deposit the next piece. But this time, he carefully opened one eye, peeking between almost-closed lids, so he could watch as she fed him. Her face was every bit as red as he imagined, but she was also staring at him with a curious and powerful fascination: he could see her breathing was shallow, and she kept licking her lips as she carefully placed the candy on his tongue, unblinkingly watching as her hand slowly pulled away from his mouth — the tip of one of her fingers accidentally brushing up against the tip of his tongue.
It looked like her little heart exploded in her chest.
“Sorry!”
He, again, lopped the candy into his mouth, but this time he just swallowed it immediately, barely registering the taste.
“It’s okay. Can I open my eyes now?”
“Uh… s-sure.”
He opened his eyes fully, catching her as she was still calming down. She laughed awkwardly, beautifully, brushing some of her almost ethereal light hair out of her face.
“I’m sorry again… I’m… feeling very shy right now.”
“Why’s that?”
“...I…” she paused, fidgeting, her knees rubbing together as she looked anywhere but at him, “...we Goh, we… how do I say this, eek, um… we believe there’s a big difference between a boy and a man. I work with boys, scheming and dishonest and evil. You… you look like you’re strong, brave… and good. You’re a man, and I haven’t seen a real man in a long time.”
His chest swelled up with pride at this assessment: he was strong, brave, and good, wasn’t he? If even this goh could see it, then it must be true. It was very nice to be reminded, and even nicer to hear it from this goh, who was giving him a look that made the butterflies in his stomach get butterflies of their own. Layers upon layers of butterflies.
“That’s why I became an officer of the law,” he nodded, trying to impress her a little more — and judging by the way she lit up, it worked, “so I could use my strength and bravery to help people.”
“You mean… so… if you weren’t captured, you’d… help someone like me?”
“Of course. You said you’re a prisoner of these people too, right? I’d save you, if I could.”
She seemed to need a minute to consider this: her mind was racing, seemingly in two different directions, as she put more weight onto his words than anyone else ever had. He couldn’t remember anyone ever giving anything he said so much attention and dedication. She listened to him the way you might listen to your pastor, or your pastor would listen to the angels.
She eventually seemed to make up her mind. Vigorously shaking her head, sending her air-light olive locks dancing around her head, she eventually calmed down and started to speak.
“...I… I want to ask…”
She couldn’t finish, however: she was cut off by the thundering voice of a cruel-sounding man, a voice that made her face go pale and, likely, her blood run cold.
“Wippiyeu! Where are you?!”
“Oh no,” she whispered, before looking back at Franklin with both fear… and a newfound determination, “I have to go, but I’ll be back tonight — stay up for me, please.”
“Okay. I will. I promise.”
She quickly got to her feet and scampered up the ladder, only pausing for a second to glance back down at him before opening the latch as quietly as she could and sneaking out. His eyes lingered on the latch for a few seconds after it closed, before they fell to the ground once more. He decided to close his eyes, to try and hold onto that memory while it was fresh in his mind, and try to escape his current situation using it. Because when she wasn’t around, he didn’t feel like a man as much. He just felt like a guy chained to a wall, awaiting a grim and terrible fate. So if possible… he wanted her to stick around for longer. Even if it was only in his head.
Also the guy next to him came back. Glad to see he wasn’t dead.
Franklin couldn’t have slept even if he wanted to.
The way she talked to him earlier, he was convinced that she wanted to escape this place, and she needed his help to do it. And he couldn’t get the way she looked at him out of his head. They had only spoken twice, neither time for very long, but they were both beautiful people in desperate situations. An attraction was normal, right? It was more than normal, it was useful. She hadn’t been with a real man in a long time, by her own tacit admission, and while he had never thought of a goh that way before, she wasn’t just any goh, was she? If she was attracted to him, and he was attracted to her, and he could use her interest in him to escape slavery, who could blame him?
The others in the hold had refused to talk to him all day, or just glared knives at him. Were they jealous? Suspicious? It didn’t matter. His mind was entirely on the goh, and a chance to escape, and possibly move on to something better, depending on how things played out. It made the days even longer, but more bearable as well.
He was well and wide awake in the dead of night when he heard the latch carefully open from above. He glanced around — just about everyone else was asleep, as far as he could tell. For the first time, it seemed as if the two of them would have some real privacy.
She crept up to him as quietly as she could, although even she wasn’t light-footed enough to avoid the occasional creaking from the wooden planks beneath them.
“Pst… are you awake?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, good. I’m sorry you had to wait so long… Mr. Yanglen has been watching me a lot lately. I think he might know something is wrong, but… I can’t stop thinking about you. So I have to risk it.”
“I’ve been thinking about you too.”
“How… how much do you know about gohs, sir?”
“Not much, I admit. I know you’re different from humans, you… evolved differently, to be less… er… well, you’re not human. You have your own language, you value gold for some reason, and you have… five different religions, and three of them can be legally practiced.”
She didn’t reply right away. Her aura of saintly warmth seemed to flicker for a moment — making him fear that perhaps he said something to offend her — but it returned in full force so quickly he could only assume he imagined it.
“You know a lot more than most people! I’m impressed!” she cheered, “So tell me, have you heard of ‘Sahaganshi’?”
“No, what is it?”
“It’s a special thing. Like what you humans would call… ‘fate’. We goh are taught that somewhere in the world, there’s a special human we’re bonded to. Someone we’re supposed to serve. My dear grandmother told me that when I saw my Sahaganshi, I would know it right away. I would… feel it. In my heart. And they would feel it too.”
He could feel her leaning in closer. Once again, he could see those wide, doe eyes, those pouty lips, her magnificent face, so close to his he was only a half second of courage away from kissing her.
“...please, be honest. Do you… feel something in your heart when you’re around me? Something different? Like we’re destined to be together?”
She put her hand to his heart, to feel it pumping in his chest. And saints above, if she was going to be so cute, so doting, of course he was going to feel something for her. There was nothing mystical about it… but it certainly did make for a convenient excuse… and being this “Sahaganshi” fellow sounded like it had quite a few perks.
“...it’s true. I feel a way about you I’ve never felt about anyone before. Not even my wife. I’ve known from the moment I saw you that we had something special, and I’m glad you feel that way too.”
“Really? You’re married?” she gasped with another noticeable flicker in her aura, “...you’re married and yet you’d still be willing to be my Sahaganshi? How… how wonderful for me! Thank you, thank you so much!”
She pulled him into a hug, pressing his face into her chest: it was flatter than a man’s chest, as was typical for the Goh race, but wrapped up in her sweet-smelling silks, the adornments that covered her body, and so close to her beating heart and body warmth… it was a sensation unlike any other. He closed his eyes and just breathed it in for a moment, letting their bodies melt together as she held him tightly, her fingers tracing through his hair playfully before she caught herself and separated.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you without your permission.”
“It’s… it’s more than alright…”
“Now that I know you’re my Sahaganshi, I can’t… I can’t just let you be a slave. I’ve wanted to escape for a long time now, but I’ve always been too scared. But with you at my side, I know we can do it.”
She paused for a moment, as if a thought just occurred to her.
“I’ve been so silly: calling us a destined pair, but we don’t even know each other’s names yet! I was just so caught up in the… I’m sorry. My name is Wippiyeu. As my Sahaganshi, it belongs to you now. Please treat it kindly.”
“And I’m… let’s just start with Franklin.”
“Franklin… ah, just saying it makes my heart beat faster! My Franklin~”
Funny, just hearing her say it made his blood flow as well. But as tempting as that idea was, now was not the time: if the other slaves were awoken and heard their planning, this could all be for nothing.
“I’m sorry, I lost myself. I need to get you out of here. And as fate would have it, we have a small chance in the coming days.”
“Oh?”
“We’re going to reach Fort Lagstrand soon, and we’ll be stopped there for a few days. Most everyone will leave the ship so they can drink and gamble and do other childish things. I can use that chance to break you out, and we can escape… go into hiding, or… maybe, if you’re with the law, you could get us protection with the, um, ‘Bar Boys’?”
Ugh, he hated that name. It was disrespectful, and painted all of his peers in a bad light. But now wasn’t the time to correct her on that: he could train her how to serve him better later.
“They’d be willing to protect us. We take care of our own.”
“Okay. Oh, tomorrow can’t come soon enough. I… I should go, but… I can’t bring myself to leave your side just yet. I want to learn all about you. Where you came from, what your dreams are, what you love… let me hear all of it... learn all about you.”
She slid up to him, as close as she could get without their skin touching. Even the slightest rise and fall of their chests threatened to make contact: the desire became just too strong, and after a short breath he leaned forward, trying to kiss her. But it was dark, and instead he wrapped his lips around her nose. She squealed, quietly, and immediately fell backwards, cupping her face in her hands.
“What are you doing, Franklin?”
“I want you. Kiss me.”
“I-I want you too, Franklin. I really do, but… here? Where you can’t even hold me? And we’re one mistake away from waking the man next to you? If I kissed you now, I might lose myself and… Please be patient, my Sahaganshi. I’ll do everything I can to… um, tend to your needs… when we’re free of danger.”
…she was right, but damn it, it was so hard, literally and figuratively. He slouched back, deflated in every respect except the one that counted, and she seemed to sense this.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to disappoint you, of all people. Let me… let me do this instead, okay?”
She reached forward and gingerly cupped his cheeks, her thumbs carefully and slowly stroking his skin as she supported his chin from below. It was soothing in a way he hadn’t expected. Familiar and innocent and intimate, almost like he was a babe being soothed to sleep. As the minutes passed, his passion faded and he began to sleeplessly doze into her palms, just drinking in the touch, the intimacy, and the summer sweet smell of her skin. She held him like this for a few minutes, cradling his face in the warmth and softness of her grasp, before she gently slipped her fingers away, tracing the outline of his face with the tips.
“...I… I may make a mistake if I stay too long. Tomorrow night, though. Just be patient, my Sahaganshi. We’ll both be free soon.”
She retreated up the ladder, and as before, he watched her go. Tomorrow would be the longest day of his life, he was certain. But if he would be free with her by the end of it, then it would be worth the wait.
…but she was also a goh, and given how incompetent they could be… he might need to think of a backup plan.
He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he knew when he woke up: namely, when a bucket of cold water was splashed on him, jolting him awake with a frightful shock. As the morning light came to painful focus, he saw his warden leaning over him with a cruel little smile and a now-empty bucket.
“Morning loverboy. The captain wants a word.”
With those words, his blood went as cold as the water that had been thrown at him: did Wippiyeu get caught sneaking out? Did she confide in the wrong person? Or…
He glanced to the side as his shackles were unlocked. The guy next to him was looking mighty smug about all this: did he rat them out?! Jealous bastard must have decided to say something. They locked eyes, one pair fuming with anger, the other glowing with self-content, before he was escorted up the ladder into the mess.
The mess lived up to its name, of course. But it was also empty: none of the other crew that must be on the ship were there. Were they on the deck? On some other ship? He had no way to know: all he could say for certain was that it was just him and this weak-looking woman standing outside the captain’s quarters, and the only thing stopping him from trying something funny was the pistol pointed at his back. Not much of a motivator… but enough.
“Just wait here. The captain is finishing some… other business.”
They stood in silence for a moment before he realized that they actually were standing in silence: the near-endless thwump of the engine, something he had gotten used to in his time on the ship, was silenced. The ship wasn’t moving. And because that eternal droning wasn’t there, he actually realized that he could hear the sound of chatter on the other side of the door. Glancing at the warden, who seemed to be losing focus with every passing second, he slowly leaned forward, pushing his ear closer and closer to probe exactly what was going on in there.
Soon enough, the noise had focused itself into words…
“...lipstick on their throats, but why?”
That voice was from a woman, but it was hardly feminine. It sounded more like charcoal had found a way to speak, but wasn’t very practiced at it.
“Amelia, that’s none of your business. When a Yanglen tells you to do something, even something like smearing lipstick on people’s necks, you do it. You don’t ask why, am I wrong?”
That was a man’s voice, and it sounded really stiff. Rigid. Almost like he was reading aloud from a book he didn’t like.
“Of course not, boss. But why did you leave behind people for us to mark with lipstick in the first place?”
“Did you not hear me? When a Yanglen tells you to do something, you just do it! One more question out of you and I will have you flogged.”
“Yes, sir.”
“By the way, how’s the ship we took? The military one?”
“Er, we didn’t take it, sir. You Yanglens took the military ship.”
“Semantics.”
“Well, your, ship, sir, isn’t far behind… we’ve had no reports of any problems.”
“Good. Good. I’d hate there to be any issues with the Yanglen’s new military ship. Now, where’s that bitch with the… guy.”
“I will check for them. Sir.”
He leaned backwards far less slowly and subtly than he leaned forward, and just in time: the door slammed open, and standing on the other side was a horrifying sight: a brutally scarred woman, with wolf’s teeth in her mouth, a half-melted nose, and two empty holes where her ears were supposed to be. Perhaps even more grotesque, she had an autosteam hand shoved onto her wrist where her real hand was still attached, crudely pushed to the side and twitching unnervingly every couple seconds or so. Her wild, mad eyes locked onto him, before she nodded her head, inviting them inside.
Sitting at the desk was a well-dressed man in a suit and tie, although it didn’t look to be especially form-fitting, so it couldn’t have been tailor-made. The man might have been handsome, but it was hard to tell, with the thick shades on his eyes and the puffy, out-of-place beard that was growing on his face. But perhaps the most distinct marker was the tiny Y that appeared tattooed under his eye, which was probably the mark of his criminal enterprise. Franklin might not have been the smartest man at his precinct, but he could safely assume it stood for “Yanglen”.
And at his side, Wippiyeu. Tears were silently falling from her eyes, and her face was flush with color. She gasped when she saw Franklin escorted into the room, and instinctively took a step towards them — but a cold glare from this Yanglen fellow stopped her in her tracks, and all she could do was wail into her hand.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Franklin fellow I’ve heard so much about, eh?”
“I’m flattered you know my name.” He replied, trying to sound unintimidated. But between the gun and the woman who looked like she could literally bite his head off, he was feeling at least a little intimidated.
“Of course I do. Once we found out the truth, my little pet Olivia here couldn’t stop begging for your life.”
There was a bridge of silence that followed as everyone in the room seemed to stare at this Yanglen fellow: the wolf-faced woman was visibly annoyed, Wippiyeu seemed distressed, and Franklin was confused.
“O-oh, I-I hate it when you call me that!” Wippiyeu suddenly sniffled, “Please, master Yanglen, stop calling me Olivia!”
The man at the desk coughed, straightened his back, and seemed to invest a bit more of himself into the conversation.
“Ah! Yes! I call her Olivia because it hurts her so! Weh… Wehpeeyou, explain to our ‘guest’ here why I call you Olivia.”
“Oh, Franklin, it’s so terrible!” She sobbed again, “Olivia was the name of his old dog! He’s calling me an animal, a little pet, every time he calls me by that awful name!”
“Haha! Yeah! It’s… a dog thing. Anyway, enough about that. I know you and my worthless, ugly whore of a slave have been conspiring behind my back to escape. And I wanted to hear all about it for myself, from the mouth of the Bar Boy: do you really plan on running away with this cum-soaked sack of half-digested cat fetuses and horse vomit?”
It was faint, but he could barely make out the wolf woman mouthing ‘the hell’ under her breath. Either way, none of that mattered: there was something far more important he needed to sort out first.
“Wait, whore? Cum-soaked? Have you been sleeping with her? Is she not a virgin?”
This question seemed to have caught everyone off-guard.
“...um… is that important…?” the leader of the gang asked.
Yanglen was hard to read, under the beard and the glasses, but he physically turned his head slightly to look at Wippiyeu, who seemed very uncomfortable, but also fairly resolved.
“...no, he’s never touched me like that,” she eventually said. “You told me, Master Yanglen, that you’d never taint your superior human body with my inferior and thus far unviolated goh genitals.”
“Your genitals are beautiful!” The wolf-faced woman explosively interjected, slamming her palm into the desk hard enough to leave a sizable dent. “Rich- Yanglen, apologize!”
“I’m your boss,” he retorted, softly but firmly, “I don’t apologize for anything but I remember saying that so by Mickey’s Tongue I never breached her love palace. Anyway, are you escaping or not?!”
You know…
…this was kind of weird.
But then, he supposed you had to be at least kind of odd if you were going to choose a career as an air pirate, right? Plus, who knows how many blows to the head they had taken while up here? A little strangeness was to be expected… probably. Either way it didn’t change much: it just meant he had to be more wary of volatility from the people in front of him. Including, sadly enough, Wippiyeu.
“Of course I want to escape, who’d want to be here? But I haven’t made any plans with this goh.”
“Is that so? Then why have I seen Weepuhyoo-”
“Whip-pie-yew.” The woman with the wolf teeth tried to subtly correct him, but subtlety seemed as foreign a concept to her as dental hygiene.
“Wippiyeu sneaking into the hold so often? And why did some of my merchandise say they saw the two of you sharing whispered words of affection and defiance? Are they stupid? Or are you, sir, the one who is stupid, trying to lie to a Yanglen like that!”
Oh, right. The witnesses and stuff.
“Maybe they were just jealous of how easily I seduced your ‘pet’?”
“Hmmm… maybe. Maybe,” He scratched his puffy beard before leaning forward with surprising dramatic flair. “...but they won’t be so jealous of how I shoot you!”
The woman who had been behind him, the warden, swung out in front of him and pointed her pistol at his face. Wippiyeu gasped, Yanglen laughed maniacally, and the woman with the wolf teeth was struggling to muster any emotion stronger than a mild irritation. Franklin, on the other hand, was panicking the way a man typically did when a gun was pointed at his face.
“Whoa! Whoa- I mean, it’s not my fault! She came to me promising to let me go, she’s the- if you’re going to shoot anyone-”
While he begged, much to the seemingly unflappable amusement of the woman holding the gun, Wippiyeu, driven to action by her love for him, rushed forward with a dramatic “no!”. She pushed into the back of the woman with the gun, and knocked her forward, causing her to drop the gun in her hand.
“Oh no.” The warden said unenthuisastically as her gun spilled to the ground at Franklin’s feet. Everyone, from the man at the desk, to the wolf-faced woman, to Wippiyeu and Franklin himself, stared hard at the gun on the ground, and time seemed to stand still between them all for just a moment. Then another moment. And a moment after that, until Wippiyeu shouted.
“Franklin! Grab the gun!”
Oh shit right. He reached down and scooped it up, pointing it at Yanglen with a victorious grin as Wippiyeu rushed to his side. Now, it was Yanglen’s turn to panic, as he put his hands in the air and sneered.
“Damn you, Olivia! Damn you, Franklin! I’ll give you the key to the parachute chest, just don’t shoot me!”
“Or I can just take it off your corpse!”
“Wait wha-”
He fired. A familiar, powerful recoil shocked his wrist as the bullet sped towards his and Wippiyeu’s mutual tormentor. The woman with the wolf teeth, sadly, was already mid-dive, seeming to react with an animal instinct that rivaled the creature she defanged to fill her dentures. Still, the bullet flew true, and slammed directly into her chest. Blood sprayed out in a thin stream as it burrowed through her flesh, and both she and Yanglen were knocked to the ground. All to the backdrop of Wippiyeu’s screaming, which was far more high-pitched and intense than anything he had heard from her before.
The warden just slid to the side, standing against the wall. Not afraid, not happy, just trying to get out of the way. And he was happy to let her do it — he was going to walk behind the desk to finish the job, but Wippiyeu had already sprung forward, rushing behind the desk and gasping she’s dead! And Yanglen is out cold!”
She knelt behind the table and stood up with a key in her hand, rushing back to his side. “Let’s go! I don’t want to stay in this awful place another second!”
“But we can-”
“-We can’t wait any longer! We have to hurry! Before backup arrives!”
Ah, that was a fair point. A gunshot wasn’t exactly a subtle thing. One, and the rest of the crew would probably assume a prisoner was executed. Two, however, was a fight, and that would draw a crowd. Giving one final glance at the warden, he took Wippiyeu’s hand as she lead him to the locked parachute chest, grabbed two, and deftly secured it to both herself and him.
“Just jump off the side the second we’re on the deck, okay?”
“Makes sense.”
With a shared breath — their first shared breath of freedom — the two rushed above deck, darted past a motley band of confused outlaws, and hurled themselves off the side, plummeting into the clouds, the great blue, and ultimately, a land that was more than happy to receive them and deliver them to a new, better chapter of their lives.
“You were so brave up there!” She gasped as they fell, squeezing his hand as tears rolled down her cheeks. “You saved me, my hero, my Sahaganshi!”
“Yeah! I did!” he said, still pumped up on adrenaline. “I can’t believe I did it!”
“I can! I always believed!” Despite falling from the heavens, surrounded by whipping clouds and a glorious vista of rolling fields and tall trees, she gazed into his eyes as if he were the only thing in the world. “From the moment I saw you and felt you were my chosen one, a man of action and blood!”
They had time before they had to pull their chutes — and unable to hold himself back, he pulled her into a kiss, which she eventually reciprocated, the two of them dreamily locking lips as they got further and further away from the nightmare that brought them together.
They would land next to the road, surrounded by tall grass and an abundance of livestock. The actual impact was less than graceful, with Franklin rolling on the ground, collecting mud, while Wippiyeu was able to more-or-less land on her feet, only stumbling a little bit when her parachute knocked into her back. She was also able to remove it with a practiced efficiency, while he needed a little help to unchain himself from the tangled web of rope and cloth.
It was an overcast day. The ground was slightly damp, and the sound of cows, both distant and near, seemed to carry over the landscape.
“Okay. Okay,” she composed herself while he gazed at the sky, seeing if anyone was following. “If I remember it right… we should be about a mile away from Uthgrad station. We can catch a train to Fort Lagstrad from there, and meet up with your-”
He once again pulled her into a kiss, which she accepted briefly before disengaging.
“Please, my Sahaganshi, not now. When we’re safe-”
“-No one’s chasing us,” he pressed, going in for another kiss. She gently deflected it, allowing his lips to fall on her neck, and with a bit of hesitation wrapped her arms around him. “We’re safe. I’ll protect you.”
“I know you will, I just-” she moaned, “I, please, I don’t want to yet. When we’re in town, I-”
“-I saved your life,” he continued to press, pushing his body into hers, causing her to stumble to the ground, caking her in mud, “you owe me.”
“I-I… yes, I do, but if she sees you-”
“Is it or is it not your purpose to serve me?!”
She sighed, then her defiant frown broke into a resigned smile — she wrapped her arms around him, pulled him close, and whispered, breathlessly into his ear.
“Yes, sir. Thank you for taking me. I’m sorry for making you wait.”
He learned a lot about goh anatomy that day. Apparently, for example, they don’t self-lubricate the way humans do, so even though she assured him she was very aroused and desperately wanted him, they still had to use spit to help it go in. He also learned they don’t bleed when their maidenhood is taken. The lack of fluids extended to cumming, because even though he brought her to violent climaxes several times, she remained as dry as ever. All things considered, he wasn’t surprised that Yanglen bastard didn’t touch her: if it weren’t for her loud moans, gasps, and dirty talk, he would have assumed he was fucking an entirely uninterested woman.
Still, he was able to finish inside her, and satisfy his urges for now.
Onward to Fort Lagstrand, he supposed.
Wippiyeu happened to have some coin on her, which was good, because it was only at the train station he realized his wallet had been taken by those outlaws. Sadly, it wasn’t much, so she was unable to get them a private train booth. In fact, because they were covered in mud, she couldn’t even get them any seats: they had to stand the whole ride over. Far from his best experience on a train, but he still had a big ol’ smile on his face.
“I’m very sorry for this,” she sighed, one hand on the handrail above them, while the other was laced with his.
“Hey, the mud is my fault,” he admitted. “It was worth it, though.”
“...yes, of course. Still, we’re in trouble. We need money if we’re going to… survive. I’m afraid I was never given much on the ship, and I used most of it just to get us these tickets.”
“Could you sell any of that gold stuff on your body?”
She smiled at him much the way a mother would to a curious, misbehaving child: it was kind, it was warm, it was patient, but there was a very clear underpinning of masked annoyance even he could feel.
“You know nobody but us goh care for gold. Plus, these piercings and jewelry are as much a part of my body as your fingers and toes. Please don’t ask me to part with them.”
“Oh. Alright. Maybe you could get a job?”
“Of course I’d be happy to work and support you,” she nodded. “But… I’m still a goh, it will take time to find a place willing to hire me, and even then, they will not pay me much…”
Her eyes lit up after a moment of thought, tapping her chin in contemplation.
“If only there was a way to make a lot of money quickly…”
“Yeah, that’d be nice.”
“...like, say, if you could use your connections from your job…”
“Oh, they don’t pay us police officers very much.”
“How tragic! To think the people putting their lives on the line to stop bad guys are underpaid — that’s an injustice!”
“That’s what I’ve been saying: to think I got captured and nearly killed for 1000 bad coin a month, it’s honestly an insult.”
“Surely there must be some other way they compensate heroes like you. Maybe a bonus paid out if you do a good job?”
“If only.”
“No? Even if you helped with arresting an important, dangerous criminal?”
Wait a second…
…he just thought of the most brilliant plan!
“Hold on: the Yanglens are headed for Fort Lagstrand too, right? They must have a huge bounty, I bet we can cash it in if we help the officers there arrest them!”
“Wow! That’s such a good idea!” Her eyes lit up with delight, and she leaned closer to him — even covered in mud, she managed to smell so good. “You’re so smart, my Sahaganshi!”
“It’s simple: I’ll go to the station and report everything I know. You might not realize this, but I was listening carefully to everything they said, and they shared a lot of valuable information. I can turn that into the officers, lead the raid, save the other prisoners, and walk out with a purse full of coin and a promotion waiting for me back home.”
“You amaze me always, my Sahaganshi. Should I come with you and corroborate your story?”
“Oh, uh…” he coughed, breaking eye contact. “No, um, probably not. You’d probably just complicate things. Not all of my fellow officers have the same nuanced, progressive understanding of you creatures. Just let me handle all this complicated stuff. Why don’t you… just find us a place to stay for the night?”
“Of course. I’ll find you outside the station when you are done. I’ll… try my best to not let you down. B-believe in me, please!”
They spent the rest of the trip moving the arms along, finally catching up on all the things they couldn’t do on the ship: He told her all about his life, his family, his dreams, and where he came from. And she did the same for him, but he kind of zoned out during that part as he planned how he was going to get his revenge on the Yanglens, and get paid to do it. She said something about… a sister? Her willingness to follow him anywhere? Whatever. He could just ask her about it again later if it ever mattered.
By the time she was done, it was early in the afternoon, and the outskirts of Fort Lagstrand were visible from the windows.
The second leg of their adventure was about to begin.
Fort Lagstrand was the smallest urban center that technically qualified as a ‘city’ by terms of population in Cohenlay, which meant about a thousand people called it home. The further south you went, the rivers and streams that fed the soil and created the fertile flatlands that let Cohenlay feed the world became less nutrient-rich, so Fort Lagstrand and its surrounding land were mostly dedicated to manufacturing and ranching operations. At least, in theory. In practice, Fort Lagstrand was functionally the criminal capital of the country, where all outlaws — pirates and escaped slaves, moonshiners and draft dodgers, racial terrorists and illegal homosexuals — happened to congregate. The reasons for this are many, but ultimately, it came down to the fact that the Duke of Four, who actually lived here, was immeasurably corrupt, and the only Bar Boys that operated here were swimming in his purse. As long as you weren’t actively murdering someone or plotting against the Duke of Four, you could basically get away with anything within the city limits… assuming you had enough coin for the bribes, that is.
Still, the police treated each other right. He knew he could count on them to dole out justice where justice was due.
…eventually. He’d been at the station for the past four hours, sitting behind a table in a windowless room as he waited for them to confirm he was who he said he was. By now, the sun had long set, and he was worried he’d have to spend the night here at this rate. At the very least, they had given him a sandwich and some water, so he wouldn’t go starving, but still, after everything he’d been through, he deserved better than just a hard chair and a low table for the night.
Oh, right, and the goh. She was probably still waiting outside, it’s not as if she could afford a room or anything. But he couldn’t risk compromising his story or his reputation by asking about her, or consorting with her in any way. She’d just have to tough through it. She was a slave, so she must be used to being uncomfortable and cold at night, right? One more night wouldn’t kill her.
He was lost in the middle of these thoughts when he heard the door open, and he came back to this world just in time to catch another man walking in. He was tall, a little overweight, with a beard that needed trimming and a face that needed a lot less wrinkles. He threw a notepad and a pencil on the table before he slid into his seat, and let out a long, slightly pained grunt as he did so.
“Someone will be in with another sandwich and some coffee in a minute.”
“Thanks.”
“So, we called your precinct, checked your numbers… you’ll be happy to hear it all checked out. Sorry for the wait, officer Tanglin.”
“These things take time, don’t worry about it.”
“So,” he slapped his thighs, leaning back into his chair. “You say you have some, uh, information for us on some high-profile criminals.”
“Yeah. Two days ago, I think, my squad and I were in the air as part of the search and rescue operation for Prince Getherald. When-”
“Yeah, yeah, we know. Amelia the Wolf came through, killed a bunch of people, kidnapped a few. Your ship, the, uh… Iron Ross, went Armada on us. Since it was in the area, we boarded the train and said she did the same to you and yours. I was hoping you could corroborate that.”
Franklin gave him a slightly confused look: obviously, the woman with the wolf’s teeth in her mouth was Amelia. He had a hard time imagining anyone else in the sky would earn that nickname as long as she was around. But that didn’t match up with what he overheard on the ship…
“No, it was Yanglen who did it.”
The officer on the other end of the table raised a single, tired eyebrow.
“Scuse me?”
“I was on their ship. A Mr. Yanglen was the boss. I saw Amelia there too — she has the wolf teeth in her mouth, right?”
“Yeah, you know… the name.”
“Right, but she was taking orders from him.”
“And how do you know this?”
“I overheard it.”
Another man walked in, who looked every bit as tired as the man doing the interview. He put two quickly made sandwiches on the table, and two servings of coffee in chipped, stained cups. It smelled awful and cheap, but Franklin was just happy to have something solid in his stomach and something warm in his mouth.
“What, uh, exactly did you overhear?”
He picked up the notepad and the pencil he had dropped earlier.
“They realized I was planning an escape, so this morning they took me from the hold to interrogate me about it. Before they spoke to me, though, I overheard a conversation between this Yanglen guy and Amelia. I didn’t hear much, but what I did hear was… confusing. Apparently, this Yanglen guy killed and kidnapped people, and all she did was paint lipstick on necks when they were done. She seemed confused by it, but he didn’t want to explain why he had her do it.”
The man opposite Franklin stopped writing and furrowed his brow. It was an intensity of thinking that Franklin wasn’t exactly accustomed to himself: he wasn’t a detective like this fellow probably was. He was never paid to think or know stuff, just to do the stuff that needed doing. It was the nobler of the two professions, and based off this guy’s face, it was better for his complexion, too.
“...how did you escape, exactly?”
“They had a gun pointed at me, and I wrestled it away from them. I shot Amelia, broke into the parachute chest, and jumped off the side.”
“You’re certain you shot her?”
“I’ve been serving for ten years and I’ve been to the barricade twice. I assure you, I shot her. Straight in the chest. She’s dead now.”
“Describe this Yanglen you saw. As detailed as you can remember.”
Franklin knew the tone this detective was giving him a little too well: it was mired in disbelief, but there wasn’t any annoyance or hostility in his voice either. He probably didn’t think Franklin was lying, per se, he was just having a hard time thinking what he was being told was true.
“He was thin, lanky, and he wore a nice suit, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t form-fitting. It was kind of loose on him. His tie looked clipped on, as well. Uh… he had light brown skin, dark hair, a large, puffy beard… and a pair of dark shades. Oh, and he had a Y tattooed just under his eye.”
“Scars?”
“Probably, but I didn’t get that good of a look.”
“And you swear by all this?”
“My wallet’s missing, I’m hundreds of kilometers from home, and I still have bruises from the shackles. Why would I make this up?”
The detective took a deep swallow of his coffee, capped it with a sigh, and started rhythmically tapping his pencil against the side of the table, knocking some rhythm and consistency into what was obviously an untrustworthy world.
“Is… there a problem?” Franklin finally decided to press.
“Look, Franklin, between two brothers, I can’t find where the piss starts. I can’t say there’s nothing linking Amelia to the Yanglens, but I haven’t heard anything that would suggest the two ever worked together. Plus, you were attacked at night, right? The Yanglens I know are cautious and hands-off: they’re unlikely to attack a ship directly, and they’d never do it at night, given how dangerous it is. And finally, I can’t really see why they’d sail this direction, when they famously operate up north. You see why I’m having a hard time putting my dot next to yours?”
He did not.
“I do. But it’s what I saw.”
“And I believe you saw it. I just, uh, I wish I’d seen it myself. Now, you tell me they’re coming to this city.”
“Yeah, they were supposed to land here earlier today. So they’re probably on one of the isles by now.”
“Well, they didn’t.”
“...what?”
“The Iron Ross, or any other military ship for that matter, hasn’t docked on any island today.”
“That’s…” Franklin pondered that revelation for a moment, “maybe they stopped to look for us, and lost track of time? Or maybe Wipp… er… it’s possible I misheard their plans?”
“Which means you could have misheard anything,” He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose, “Here’s what I’ve got for you, Franklin: a cell to stay in overnight, a warm breakfast, and a fair warning if we spot the Iron Ross pull up to any of the islands in town. That’s it. I want to believe what you’re saying, because… well, it would be really convenient. But until I get some solid proof, it’s just a fun story.”
“Oh. I see.”
The detective slid his pencil behind his ear, then finished off his coffee. His sandwich hadn’t even been touched. Somehow, even just a few minutes of neglect made it look like it was on the cusp of spouting mold and vanishing under an explosion of mushrooms. It made Franklin give a second look at his own sandwich, half-eaten and only slightly less sad looking for it.
“What are you going to do tomorrow?”
“I… need money, if I’m going to make my way home, or even eat. So I guess I’ll look for work.”
“Heh. Good luck, pal,” the detective stood up, sliding his sandwich over to Franklin. “Eat your fill. You’ll need it.”
With his empty coffee cup hanging from a single finger, the detective left the room, calling for someone to show Franklin to their nicest cell for the night.
Looks like this wasn’t going to be so easy after all.
Compared to him, Wippiyeu looked downright well-rested. She had somehow cleaned all the mud off her body, she was red-faced and nearly glowed in the morning sun, and even greeted him outside the police station with a smile — something he couldn’t bring himself to muster after a night of back-breaking sleep on a metal slab. Honestly, at that exact moment, it was less cute, and more annoying: how was it she managed to get a better night’s sleep than him?
Which was the first thing he asked when they turned the corner away from the police station, away from those who would judge him for speaking with her.
“O-Oh, I was very fortunate, my Sahaganshi. An elder saw me shivering in the cold of the night, waiting for you, and invited me to stay with his family. They cleaned me and fed me, and I’m ever so grateful for their kindness! I’m sorry your night wasn’t as nice.”
“The day kinda sucked too,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “They say the Iron Ross didn’t dock here yesterday, which means you were wrong about their plans. We won’t be able to get the bounty anymore.”
Her bright smile faded, replaced by a somber frown.
“O-oh…. a-are you sure?”
“What do you mean ‘am I sure’, I was told it directly by a detective!”
“It’s… well… m-maybe you won’t like hearing this, my Sahaganshi, but this city has a reputation for being somewhat… um… compromised? I heard the officers of the law here are not as upstanding and heroic as you. It could be they lied so they could catch Yanglen themselves, and cash in the bounty.”
His first instinct was to reprimand her for insulting his profession and his people: after all, what she was saying was paramount to suggesting her own kind, those lawless slavers, were more trustworthy than the men and women who gave their lives to put a stop to them. And maybe in a different time, he would have gone forward with that first instinct uncritically. But he had already seen his own people tolerate criminal elements for the sake of ‘the mission’ firsthand. Clearly, there was a gap between where his “siblings” should be, and are.
Still, as a matter of principle…
“Don’t talk about them that way,” he chastised, “they’re valiant people who have fought and sacrificed for us. But you also might be right this time…”
She shrunk from his words, sufficiently put in her place, while he sighed in thoughtful surrender.
“...In which case, we’re screwed. Without backup, I won’t be able to catch them myself.”
“M-maybe you can, a-actually?”
“I don’t see how.”
“You have me, don’t forget,” she laced her fingers with his and gave his hand a squeeze, “and I know how they think. They would never land here with the ship they stole from you… it would be too conspicuous. If they landed yesterday, it would have been on the old wooden ship you and I were on, something that the cops here wouldn’t have noticed. And… well… I know what that ship looks like. We could find them first.”
“That’s fine, but it wouldn’t help us capture them.”
“A-all we’d need is the element of surprise!” She cheerfully continued, “Right now, some of their crew has to be with the ship they stole from you, out of town. More would need to stay with the slaves to keep them fed and stop them from escaping. And with Amelia dead…”
“...Yanglen would have barely any protection.” He finished her sentence, slowly catching on.
“Exactly!”
“So if you know them, do you know where they would go?”
“I have a few ideas, and a bit of money that old man gave me,” she grinned, “Let’s spend today on the hunt, shall we, my Sahaganshi?”
“I think we shall.”
They started at the airship dockyard — a series of tall metal scaffolding where the legal ships could anchor for repairs and resupplies, and sailors could take advantage of elevators to leave or board their ships: according to Wippiyeu, the Yanglens would often supply weapons or drugs to the workers there. Franklin had no luck, but Wippiyeu, utilizing her charm and innocence, was able to loosen a woman’s lips, and they learned the Yanglens had been there that morning, but had left long before they arrived. Franklin would have loved to arrest them for working with those criminals, but he lacked any way to prove he was an officer, and with no authority, he was forced to let it go.
After that was an apartment building the Yanglens partially owned and completely ‘protected’ via local agents. They spent a long time going door to door asking if anyone had been shaken down by them at any point that day, but it was rare they got a straight answer: usually they just got guns pointed at their faces and a few stern words about privacy. Something of a non-starter.
Next was a favorite restaurant of theirs, a place they would often grab a meal when they came to town. No luck there either, though.
“Shouldn’t we be going to bars and clubs and drug dens?” he asked as they sat down for a late lunch.
“This early in the day? They’re always empty. They work with the sun, and they party with the stars, my Sahaganshi.”
“Heh. I like that. Is that a goh saying?”
“Sure.”
After the cheapest meal they could get (soup and bread), they continued to a local factory that often bought ‘low-cost employees’ from the Yanglens. Management, obviously, wouldn’t talk to them, so they had to ask any of the workers currently turning horse bones into glue if they spotted any ‘well-dressed outlaw types’ walking around the premises. Most of them, obviously, were unwilling to talk, and they had to elude supervisors more than once, including a woman who was trying very hard to give them the business end of her whip. But ultimately, Franklin was able to corner a man who admitted to seeing men of such description — several, in fact — although only in passing. Considering they hadn’t run into such men during their search, they had to conclude they had gone someplace else.
There was another eatery that the Yanglens frequented when they came to town, as it was owned by a former member of their family. Wippiyeu cautioned against questioning anyone here, since word would reach the Yanglens they were being hunted, but they kept their eyes open while eating a slightly more expensive dinner. Their prey never walked through the door, despite remaining close to closing time.
“Now we can go to the bars and clubs and drug dens.”
“It’s not like I was asking because I was excited.”
“Of course you weren’t, my hero.”
There were so many places they could have been, the two of them agreed to split up: while he asked around downtown, she investigated the outskirts, and they would meet back up after midnight. His expedition proved less than fruitful, especially since he couldn’t afford the drinks he would have liked to buy to loosen tongues, and because he had to avoid the clubs that were blasphemous enough to play music. Although he did make a note of those places so he could report them to the police here later. He returned to their meeting point in a sour mood, smelling of cheap tobacco and cheaper booze, and wishing he could go to sleep.
Wippiyeu was half an hour late, but judging by the way she was grinning upon her return, it was worth the wait.
“I found them!”
“Wait, really?”
“Yes, at a cockfighting ring, to the… um… it- it doesn’t matter! Not only did I find them, I followed them back to their ship. Or, at least, I saw which island they went to. You can ambush them in their sleep, when they’re so drunk they can barely stand!”
“Well done!” His energy and smile suddenly matched hers, “How are we going to reach their ship, though?”
“That’s easy — they were so drunk, I managed to steal two balloons from some of their entourage,” she held them up for him to see and admire, like a child showing off a drawing. “We can even use the parachutes on their ships to tie them up!”
“Heh. Nothing less than what I’d expect,” he tussled her hair, “I’m going to reward you for this later tonight!”
“I can’t wait!” she beamed. “But first, we have to do this. We can’t risk the other officers, um… extracting justice before us.”
“Yes, I was just thinking the same thing,” he nodded. “Take me to the island.”
Taking his hand once more, she led him through the dimly-lit midnight streets of the town, her eyes pointed heavenward: each island marked as a speck of orange light in a night sky of thousands of silver imitators. As the streets got wider and emptier, she stopped, handed him the parachute they stole the other day, and pointed almost directly above them.
“There it is. Are you ready? Do you have that gun?”
“Yeah. But… let’s try to not use it, right?”
“Of course.”
She cracked open the tab on the side of the balloon, which sprung to life by some miracle of science, and she handed it to him. And he was a little perturbed to see the balloon was literally just attached to a rope and a plank of wood.
“This… is how we get up?”
“Yep!” She smiled, clearly more accustomed to this stuff than he was,
“...okay.” He nodded, trying his best to not show fear. She chuckled — perhaps he was a little too transparent despite his best efforts — and cracked open her own, fearlessly stepping aboard and rocketing into the sky.
He followed closely behind. He was almost glad for the darkness of the night, because while he wasn’t afraid of heights, it still made looking down — something it was inevitable he’d do, considering — much easier to stomach. With a little adjustment to accommodate the wind, the two of them were able to arrive at the island, grabbing hold of several ropes dangling from the side to help them more safely and reliably ease their way onto the sky vines above.
Oddly, it was better lit up here than it was on the ground, but then, that also made sense: it would be far too easy for some drunk pirate to step off the side of the island if it was too dark, and nobody wanted that… least of all the poor fellow whose roof they would splatter on. With their balloons carefully deflated and secured, she pointed to one of the ships at the end of the island. It was hard to tell, given the dark and the inconsistencies with his memory, but it certainly looked like the ship they had escaped from earlier…
“Let’s go. Nice and quiet,” he instructed, walking slowly and carefully up to the ship and shimmying up the side, before lowering a rope down for his partner in law: after all, she’d make far too much noise with her piercings jangling and banging against the wood. Whether she knew as much or not, she still took the rope, accepted his help getting on the ship, and the two of them crept below deck together.
And inside, they found five well-dressed men, with the same lanky look and Y tattoos, sleeping soundly in the hammocks. The captain with the bushy beard was even there too, drooling into his abundant facial hair.
The two of them exchanged excited looks, then quickly went about binding up the men. It was a shockingly easy process, as they were so out of it none of them even stirred awake, and within minutes all five were neatly tied up and bound — a little crudely, but effectively.
“I checked below deck,” Wippiyeu reported just as he finished, “All the people they captured are still there. Want to unshackle your old comrades? They can help us deliver the Yanglens to the police!”
“No, no. Leave them there. They’d want to split the bounty if we did that.”
“Well… we can’t leave everyone here tied up, can we? Especially if one of their own comes back and finds them like this… ” She sighed, “And I can’t get the police… hmmm…”
“It’s fine,” he grinned, “I’ll run and get the other officers, you stay here and guard the Yanglens.”
“A-are you sure?” She stammered, “I, um, I think I’d be terribly scared by myself!”
“You’ll be fine.” He assured her. “Everyone here is tied up, and I won’t be long. I imagine falling to the station is a lot faster than walking there.”
“B-but if one of their crew come back…!”
“You said you stole their balloons, right? Like I said, it’ll be fine. Here-” he held out the pistol he’d brought, offering it to her. “You can use this to protect yourself, okay?”
“...o-okay.” She nodded, carefully taking the gun out of his hands as if it were made of glass. “Please hurry, my Sahaganshi. Being on this ship brings back… bad memories.”
“I won’t be long.”
He bid her farewell with a comforting kiss on the forehead and smack on the ass. She giggled, a bit of warmth in the cold, cold night, and then with a farewell nod he climbed the stairs back onto the deck, then carefully lowered himself to the ivy floor of the island. But when he turned around to begin his descent proper, he bumped into a large, towering figure of shadow that had been standing there, as if waiting for him.
“Wha-”
Before he could even finish speaking, a pair of razor-sharp wolf’s teeth glistened in the mouth of the shadow before him and he felt a fist as hard as a boulder slam into his stomach, shattering his lower ribs and causing all the air in his lungs — and a bit of blood from his veins — to come exploding out of his nose and mouth.
“Good job,” a coarse, angry voice growled. “You did really good work.”
He couldn’t reply. He was in too much pain. He could barely even look up as the wolf-faced woman from before, the woman he was certain he had shot, hoisted him up by his collar and glared at him.
“The plan was to let you go.”
No, that wasn’t right. This wasn’t anger he was hearing, anger was for a friend breaking a promise to another, or a mother getting sick of a disobedient child. This was far beyond that point, a murderous, piping-hot dish of malicious loathing infused with so much venom it could poison a whole city. It was an ill-contained firestorm, burning hotter than any man could stomach, the kind of flame that eats everything in its path, from the forest it was set in, to the person foolish enough to start the blaze. He didn’t know this depth of anger was even possible, and he didn’t know what he had done to deserve it being directed at him.
He barely muttered something — anything, as if just noise would be enough to mount a defense — and she retaliated with another wallop to the stomach. A blow so intense it shook his whole body, and knocked him out for a few seconds. His face was starting to grow red. He was starting to feel desperate for air, but he couldn’t get any into his body. He was surrounded by the stuff but his lungs were too shell-shocked to work.
“But you had to touch her, huh?”
Another weak gasp — the faintest signs of life from his lungs, and she struck him again. His body, wracked with shock, panicking with pain, could barely come to realize that this was not the preamble to his execution: this was the method. She would crush his stomach and lungs, again and again, as many times as it took for him to slowly suffocate to death from all the air he was too stunned, too damaged, to even breathe in.
It was a terrible way to die.
But for Amelia, it just wasn’t terrible enough.
Pity she could only do it once.
It was another two day flight back to the closest town with a station big enough to turn the Yanglen’s in, being Pelver.
Already, their purses were 18k in good coin heavier. But if all went according to plan, they were all going to need much bigger purses.
See, it was easy enough to backstab the Yanglens and rob them of the money Olivia insisted they bring along: when they boarded the military ship earlier that day, intent on inspecting it before the purchase (and likely trying to capture Amelia while they had her alone), one of Clementine’s bombs was enough to knock them out, and liberal reapplication was more than enough to keep them knocked out as long as they needed to be. But while pocketing the 18k in good coin they brought with them was nice, it wasn’t quite nice enough, since by some fluke of the legal system, the Yanglens, as ‘middlemen’, didn’t actually have any bounties they could be turned in for.
Which is why they needed to have been accused of committing a crime that was worth putting a bounty on their heads…and the best person to do the accusing would be none other than a Bar Boy.
Getting the Bar Boy to reach that conclusion took some work, of course. Not only did they have to put on that terrible skit (which he believed, thank goodness, although shooting Amelia with a real bullet probably helped), but Olivia also had to find bribable people willing to lie about the Yanglens while their mark was waiting in a police station. And getting that other prisoner to cooperate required a very risky conversation with someone they had to intentionally poison so they could separate him from the others. Fortunately, the man they bargained with was more morally upright than Franklin, and was willing to play the role of betrayer so long as they let everyone else go. Which had always been the plan: they could hardly be expected to turn in the Yanglens, famous traffickers, without a fresh batch of victims they could be accused of trafficking.
Of course, even the word of a Bar Boy wasn’t enough for any honest department to shift a bounty from one head to another without a more thorough investigation. That’s why it was so important they went to a not-so-honest department. With news of Amelia getting shot, there would be concern that her very juicy, very fresh bounty would just vanish. A lot of coin, falling off the table. But the testimony of this escaped peer did give those less-than-honest Bar Boys a very convenient excuse to transfer what would have been a lost bounty towards someone they knew they could easily catch: because while it was true the Iron Ross or whatever it was called never docked at the city, it did float by close enough that they knew it was in the neighborhood. But they would never get the chance.
If all worked out, Rachel would turn in the Yanglens, the ship they ‘stole’, as well as the merchandise, get paid whatever bounty the bar boys had transferred from Amelia to the slavers, and they would need to very quickly leave the country. The Yanglen family was far more than just those five, and not only would they probably escape the stocks fairly quickly, the whole Yanglen family empire of crime would be after Amelia with the same dogged ruthlessness that got them as big as they were today.
And hey, as it turned out, the closest country just happened to be Tazmani — right into Lao’s territory.
So they still had an opportunity to rescue Arthur.
