Page 135 of The Space Between Stars

Fankalo clenched her fists as she approached him. She needed to treat him like he was normal. At least, if she ever wanted him to be normal.

“That’s enough.” She held out her hand.

Calver looked at it but did not take it.

She cringed inwardly. He was practically a man, and she was no longer six. She let it fall. “You’re causing a scene, eah? Running a ship is labor enough. The only extracurricular exercise we get around here is running like hell if an ass-kicker is chasing us.”

Calver rose, looming taller, even, than Drogus.

“I have something better for you to do. Come with me.”

He followed her like a shadow to the crew’s resource room, a communal, bookshelf-lined space for education and logistics planning. She gestured towards an armchair at the center table. He looked at it for the time it took to take the helm through a full spin before sitting on the floor.

Progress could not all happen at once.

“I think working on your literacy would be of value. We maintain it on my ship, despite the politics of greater Nelfindar. If you’re not learned, you’re useless.” She pulled a mustard-colored volume from the shelves. “But start with this.”

Calver curled his fingers around A Standard of Nelfinden Signals, face like stone.

She waited for him to write something; the charcoal and paper she’d given him poked out of the pouch at his belt. Calver remained motionless. Ever silent. Ever staring. Never seeing.

“I’ll be at the helm,” she muttered, wishing she could feel something other than loss when she looked at him. She’d had enough loss for a lifetime.

Just as she turned to leave him be, Zeb burst into the room. “Drogus sent me,” he panted. “We’ve got company, and they’re not here for tea.”

They met Drogus at the helm a minute later. Mitek stood by his side. He handed Fankalo his ocular, and she stared through it. He didn’t even need to indicate a direction—the ship on the horizon was nearly as tall as her thumb.

“How did it descend on us so fast?”

“It’s a Tera’thian command ship, premium quality. Must have found a fast current,” Drogus grunted.

She swallowed, as though the action might prevent her heart from beating into her throat. “But we’re in Nelfinden waters. Could it be some sort of ruse?” They had frequent run-ins with other raider vessels. Her father had often pulled similar pranks.

“I’m looking at the same ship as you, Captain. That’s Tera’thian capri wood. And a Command Flag. It’s not something someone could pull off just to get a leg over us.”

She felt out with the gift the Fates had given her; bad Luck emanated from the vessel like the very spirit of death. “That’s blight in boat form.”

“Didn’t need magic to tell you that,” Zeb grumbled.

Fankalo took over the helm and closed her eyes. Her Luck found a better current. Probably the one the Tera’thian vessel was already taking.

She whistled and signaled for the topmen to tilt the fore topsail ten degrees. “We’re going to cut west.”

The minutes passed by. Her knuckles were white on the wheel when her blood brother ascended through the hatch onto the main deck below her. Calver took one look at the Tera’thian vessel, then his eyes met hers from across the ship.

And she saw him.

She saw her Calver. Sorrow and agony and apology, all in one lancing expression. She opened her mouth to assure him everything was going to be fine.

He pivoted and sprinted for the rail.

Her heart careened after. “On him!” she screamed.

Two deckhands, Samad and Nalil, dove for him. He evaded them like a fish slipping downstream. It took five crewmen to ultimately restrain him, just an arm’s distance from the rail. Melner reeled backwards, nose smashed. Zeb and Cam jumped forward with bindings and secured his arms to his sides. Calver thrashed until Kershee brought a needle to sedate him again. His light disappeared as they carried him back below deck.

Time did not allow for her to be anxious.

“What is your plan?” Drogus rumbled.