Page 53 of Ship of Smoke and Steel

So that’s all right, then. I lay Meroe down, as gently as I can, and fall over. I’m unconscious before I hit the ground.

13

This business of waking up in strange rooms with no memory of how I got there is getting really old.

The unfamiliar ceiling this time is metal, the rust-flaked fabric of Soliton. I’m lying on a proper sleeping mat, with a heavy, tasseled blanket pulled up to my neck. The room is small, lit by oil lamps, with the usual eclectic decor. It’s certainly a step up from the half-flooded cell Pack Nine called home, or even Sister Cadua’s.

There’s a table and two chairs on the other side of the room. Zarun is sitting there, a book open in front of him. He looks at me as I move my head, and smiles.

I sit up abruptly. The blanket falls to my waist, and I realize belatedly that I’m naked underneath. One of Zarun’s eyebrow quirks, very slightly, but I refuse to frantically cover myself for his benefit. If he wants to stare at my chest so badly, let him. Blessed knows there’s little enough to stare at.

“Isoka,” he says. “How do you feel?”

“Better than last time,” I mutter. My limbs ache, but with the deep pangs of exhaustion, not the stabbing pain of injury. “Where am I?”

“Back in the Upper Stations, in the guest quarters of my clade. It was some of my people who found you.”

“Where’s Meroe? Is she all right?”

“At Sister Cadua’s.” Zarun cocked his head. “I’m told that she had quite a severe fever, but Sister Cadua expects her to recover with treatment. She hasn’t woken up yet.”

A little tension goes out of my shoulders. I have no idea what position I’m in here—as usual—but at least the nightmare march wasn’t all for nothing. I hike the blanket up enough to cover myself and let out a long breath.

“You’re the talk of the ship,” Zarun says. “Again. This is becoming a habit.”

“It’s not something I’m aiming for,” I say. “I’m just trying not to die.”

“I imagine.” He smiles. “Like it or not, I’m afraid, this time your fame will be considerable. Other people have fought blueshells and won. No one has ever fallen into the Deeps and survived.”

“Lucky me.”

“They’re calling you ‘Deepwalker.’ It has a certain ring to it.”

I roll my eyes. “What are you doing here, Zarun? Just waiting for me to wake up in hopes of getting an eyeful?”

His smile widens. “I’m afraid that’s only a side benefit. I wanted to speak to you before anyone else had the chance.”

“Speak, then. Because I have to piss something fierce.” Not a lie. Someone must have given me water while I was sleeping.

“As you wish. I would very much like to hear the story of your survival, but that can wait.” He sits up a little, and his smile disappears. “The Butcher, predictably, is pressing for me to return you to her … care. As we discussed before your little adventure, I would not be averse to having you in my service. So, if you’re willing, I am prepared to exert my influence on your behalf. It helps that you are already here, in my custody. In spite of her protestations, I can find something that will persuade the Butcher to drop her demands.” He spreads his hands. “Just say the word.”

“And what exactly would I do, in your service?”

“Given your talents, I imagine I’d put you in a hunting pack. Considering how well you’ve handled yourself so far, I’m excited to see what you could accomplish with a proper team. And, of course, you’d have better accommodations and freedom of the market, like any of my other crew.”

I wouldn’t be a prisoner, in other words. Definitely a step up. Which is the goal—keep moving upward until I get to the top—but there are a few complications.

“Can I think about it?”

He shrugs. “If you wish, but not forever. I can only stall negotiations for so long.”

“Just give me a few minutes.” I glance at the door, which here is a real door instead of a curtain. “Alone, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” He picks up his book and gets to his feet.

“And I’d like my clothes.”

He wrinkles his nose. “I’m afraid what you were wearing was … not in a fit state. I’ve taken the liberty of having new clothes made ready.” He waves to a silver-inlaid wooden trunk in the corner of the room. “If there’s anything you need, please ask.”