He gave an indifferent shrug. “It’s not that far, and I gots me a canoe that’s fit for the seas. Five, six hours, across the channel. I can take you there, Lady Vrou. Not for nothing, of course.”
Oddly, her hope, which had faded, revived at this demand for money. “How much do you want?”
“Twenty denariie. Gold ones.”
An outrageous sum, and the boy knew it. “I’ll give you twenty silver ones,” she countered. “Thirty, if we make the gates of Iglazi before nightfall. But you’ll have to trust me for the sum. I don’t have any money with me.”
The boy hesitated. “Fair enough,” he muttered. Then louder, “We best hurry. Come on.” He held out a hand.
He did not precisely drag her, but he did hurry her down a winding path that led them around to the opposite side of the small island, to a shallow cove where a stream emptied into the ocean.
The boy pointed to a canoe fitted with long poles on either side and tied to a tangle of tree roots. “That’s mine. Hurry, in case those pirates change their minds.”
Anna clambered in awkwardly. The canoe had no real seats, just a plank across one end and two paddles stowed underneath. Lines with hooks were coiled loosely on the floor, along with a folded net, some canvas, and a tub of raw bait. She wedged herself between two rounds of rope.
The boy was observing her with a frown. “You look hungry. Didn’t those stupidos feed you? I guess not. Here, drink this.” He fetched a stoppered flask from underneath the canvas.
The flask contained a mild fish broth, thickened with powdered biscuit. She drank it down in small gulps, with pauses in between. The boy nodded with approval. “Thought you might need sommat. I’ll fetch us sweet water from the stream, then get us launched. If you wants more, there’s biscuits in that tin over there.”
He vanished upstream and came back with a canteen brimming with water and two wet scarves. One he handed to Anna; the other he wrapped around his head. Then he untied the canoe and pushed off from the bank, using the paddle to guide it into the calm water of the cove.
“Did you eat a biscuit?” he called over his shoulder.
“No,” she called back.
He spat into the water. “Stupid Vrou. Eat one. It keeps you from tossing your stomach into the sea.”
Anna hunkered into the bottom of the canoe. “It’s never helped before. And if you don’t hurry, we won’t make Iglazi before nightfall and you won’t earn your thirty denariie.” She glanced nervously toward the open sea.
The boy laughed. “Don’t you worry. They won’t see us, those pirates.”
“You said they might come back.”
“Not now,” he said with obvious disgust. “I said they might come later, once they know you’re too tired and hungry to run. Besides, they don’t like a long chase. Not on land anyways. I know that from my cousin, who works a ship to Hanídos—that’s our main port on the mainland. He knows more about pirates than I’d ever want to.”
As he steered the canoe along the shore, he continued to chatter about his cousin, about ships, about the fish you might find swimming close to shore, and the ones far out to sea, which the bigger fishing fleets chased after. There was good money in swordfish, hiring out as fisherfolk and captains for the rich folks who came to Eddalyon. The rest came because they liked an adventure and they’d heard too many songs and stories.
“Is that why you came here, Lady?” he asked. “You wanted some fun?”
She groaned to herself, thinking that fun was the opposite of how she would describe her reasons. “Never mind why I came to the islands,” she said. “Do you want me to help paddle?”
The boy snorted. “Not unless you like swimming.”
Anna suppressed a smile. Cheeky boy. Maté would have called him a water rat.
Her breath caught at the sudden recollection of Maté lying dead on the sands, and her eyes blurred. She swiped away her useless tears. Later she could weep for Maté, she could curse herself for dismissing his very real concerns about pirates and brigands. If she let herself grieve now, she might never stop.
Luckily the boy appeared wholly absorbed in his task. He guided the canoe around the curve of the coastline, to a point where the coast turned abruptly eastward. Above, small, brightly colored birds swarmed through the air, their high-pitched cries ringing over the water. The boy angled the canoe around and pointed across the open water. “That way. Can you see it?”
A dark, rumpled outline showed above the horizon. Clouds smudged the highest peaks, and a band of mist obscured the island’s base, so that it appeared to float above the sea.
“Is that Vyros?” she asked.
He nodded.
“That doesn’t look so very far.”
He made an impatient noise. “It’s not, if you know what you’re doing. But then we’ve got—we gots weather and current and such. A bit o’ cloud would be nice, though, what with the sun and all. Wrap that scarf around your head. Good. Now hold tight.”
The canoe pitched down. Anna grabbed for the side, thinking they would go under. The canoe shuddered, then rose over the next swell. Anna’s stomach rose and fell. Frowning, the boy applied his paddle to change the canoe’s angle. They took the next wave more smoothly, and soon they were sliding down its back and up to the next.
Anna held tight to the canoe’s sides and the conviction she would not throw up. When she was Lady Iljana, crossing from the mainland to the islands, the steward himself had attended to her with potions and possets. Nothing could compare to this dreadful passage, as the hours rolled by, their goal rising and falling from view. She could ease the worst of the cramps with magic, but she always felt on the verge of spewing.
Was it her imagination, or did Vyros’s coastline look closer than before?
“Did you eat that biscuit?” the boy shouted.
By now she could only clamp her lips shut.
Muttering to himself, the boy left off paddling and rummaged through the seemingly random collection of bags. He came up with a tin of biscuits and another canteen. Anna nibbled at one biscuit, if only to convince him to leave off attending her and to keep paddling. She choked down the mouthful, then took a swallow from the flask.
Ale. Watered down, but it still burned her throat.
The boy muffled a laugh. He evidently found her predicament funny.
Miserable rat, she thought. She forced down a second biscuit, in between swallows of water and ale. Her stomach stopped leaping against her ribs and she wiped a hand over her clammy forehead.
I will never go aboard another ship again. Not even for passage back home. If I can’t pay a mage to magick me across the water, I’ll just stay on Vyros the rest of my life.
By the time they came within hailing distance of the shore, the sun was dipping toward the horizon. Ahead lay a smooth expanse of pale brown sands, littered by rocks and tree trunks whitened by salt water. Beyond stood a dense forest that reminded her of the forest around the ancient temple. But there were no houses or any sign they were close to Iglazi’s well-populated harbor. “Where are we?” Anna demanded.
“Not far.”
His answer came too quick for her liking. “Where are we?” she repeated. “You promised to take me to Iglazi.”
“I am,” he insisted. “We’re not but a few turns from where you want to be.”
She growled. “Why not take me directly there?”
“Oh, that.” He spat into the water. “Those