The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock (22 page)

“Obviously,” said Malock. “She doesn't want anyone
to know who she really is. If you were a spy bent on stopping this
voyage, would you tell anyone?”

Kinker bent his lower lip. “But there is no evidence
against her, besides some questionable cards. You're making a huge
mistake.”

“Actually, I'd say there's plenty of evidence
against her, looking back,” said Malock. “Consider, for example,
how secretive she is about her past. She has never told anyone
where she came from, what gods she worships, or anything of the
sort. Has she ever told you any of that?”

Kinker's hands balled into fists. “Well, no,
but—”

“See, she hasn't even told you and you're supposed
to be friends,” said Malock, smirking in satisfaction. “And you
know why she saved me from Garnal? Because she wanted to kill me
herself. Wouldn't be surprised if she's actually a ship saboteur in
disguise. She's young enough.”

“What's a ship saboteur?” said Kinker. “Never heard
of 'em.”

“The lowest breed of sailor in the entire Crystal
Sea,” said Malock, leaning against the bulwarks. “They sink or
sabotage ships for pay. It's very common for Northern royalty to
hire ship saboteurs to sink the ships of rival royals for political
reasons.”

Kinker raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you have some
experience in the matter.”

“Of course not,” said Malock, a little too quickly.
“The Carnagian Royal Family has always treated its rivals and
enemies fairly. We would never stoop so low as to hire a ship
saboteur to harm our enemies. That would make us less than
scum.”

“Right,” said Kinker. “But how can you be sure Jenur
is a ship saboteur?”

“They're usually quite young,” said Malock. “And
they tend to be young women. They use their youthful charms to fool
everyone into thinking they're naïve kids who don't know what
they're doing. In reality, these 'kids' are doing everything within
their power to sabotage a ship's voyage, doing things like ripping
sails, destroy rudders, or even poisoning captains. Most of them
are self-taught, but a few of the older ones have taken to teaching
new ship saboteurs even better ways to sabotage voyages.”

Kinker shook his head. “Jenur's young, true, but she
hasn't done a thing to sabotage this ship. Your voyage has simply
had a run of incredibly bad luck, coupled with some bad decisions
on your part.”

Malock stood to his full height. “Are you
insinuating that I am a bad Captain?”

“I am just saying that you can't trace every bad
thing that's happened on this voyage to one woman,” said Kinker,
not backing down. “Paranoia never helps anyone.”

“It's not paranoia,” said Malock. “It's simply
logic. We have a mysterious young woman who fits all the right
criteria for a ship saboteur who picked up the Tinkar card,
singling her out as a Tinkarian, which is what the messenger said
the spy was.”

“Are you saying that a god hired a human to sabotage
this voyage?” said Kinker. “You do realize how crazy that sounds,
don't you?”

“It's not that crazy,” said Malock. “On Ikadori
Island—”

He stopped speaking, like he was about to say
something that he wasn't supposed to.

“Yes?” said Kinker. “What happened on Ikadori
Island?”

“Nothing,” said Malock abruptly. “Absolutely
nothing. It doesn't concern you. Now if you will excuse me, I see a
couple of sailors over there lazing off when they clearly should be
working.”

Malock tried to leave, but Kinker grabbed his arm
and said, “Hold on, Malock. I want to make one more request of
you.”

Malock threw an irritable look over his shoulder at
Kinker. “What is it?”

“I want to speak to Jenur one last time before you
hand her over to the messenger,” said Kinker. “I won't try to help
her escape or anything. I just want to talk to her one last time in
private.”

Kinker worried Malock would say no, but to his
relief the Captain nodded and said, “All right, Kinker. Banika is
currently interrogating Jenur right now, just to find out what
other things she may have been up to, but you can go and tell her
Malock sent you. She'll know.”

“Thank you,” said Kinker, letting go of Malock's
arm. “I appreciate it.”

“But just so you know, talking to her won't change
anything,” said Malock. “All it does is provide some closure for
you. Don't expect me to soften up and let her go or anything.”

“Of course,” said Kinker, with more than a hint of
sarcasm. “Why would I ever think that?”

-

When Kinker came to the stateroom, knocked on the
door, and told Banika that the Captain had sent him, Banika let him
inside. She stepped outside when he asked her to give them some
privacy, but even when he closed the door, he had a feeling that
Banika had her eyes on him, like she could see through walls.

Kinker had never been in Malock's stateroom before,
but he marveled at how messy it was. Books, maps, and writing
utensils were scattered across the floor, the sofa was upturned,
and the curtains on the window were ripped and smelled of mildew.
He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, considering the state
of the rest of the ship, but he thought Malock at least would have
tried to keep his personal quarters nice.

At the end of the room was a large wood desk and in
front of that desk, on the same rickety chair that Malock had sat
on earlier, was Jenur. She was tied down to the chair, her arms at
her sides and her legs tied to the chair's legs. She didn't look
injured or harmed in any way, but she did look resigned to her
fate.

“Kinks?” said Jenur, raising her head to look at
him. “The old witch decided to let you in?”

Kinker approached her and stopped a few feet from
her. “Malock gave me permission to speak to you one last time
before ... well, you know.”

“Ah,” said Jenur. “You know what? Forget what I said
earlier, about Malock having good reasons for what he does. He's
just a bastard, plain and simple. Like all royalty, actually.”

The bitterness in her tone was so sharp that Kinker
was not sure what to say at first.

“So what do you want to talk about?” said Jenur.
“This isn't really the best time for casual conversations about
fishing, you know.”

“That's not what I came here to talk with you
about,” said Kinker. “I just came to talk to you about you. Your
past, where you came from, what you believe, things like that. I
figure, since this is going to be the last time I ever see you, we
should get to know each other better.”

Jenur looked away. “I'm not sure you want to know my
past. If you do, you'll just think that I deserve to be tied up and
handed over to the gods for punishment.”

“It can't have been that bad,” said Kinker. “You're
not a bad person.”

Jenur chuckled. “Yeah. You say that
after
I
murdered two pirates in cold blood. Excellent sense of morals
there, Kinks.”

Kinker scratched the back of his head irritably. “I
still don't believe you're the spy. I think Malock and his deck of
cards are completely wrong.”

“They are,” said Jenur, slumping in her chair. “I've
tried explaining that to him and Banika, but when those two idiots
get an idea in their heads you just can't convince them it's wrong.
I'm just waiting until that messenger guy comes by to take me
away.”

“Even so, we have an entire day before that
happens,” said Kinker. “Surely, you and I could have one last
conversation? Why is that so hard for you?”

“Because there is a good reason I've kept my past a
secret,” said Jenur. “I revealed too much when I took down those
two pirates. I'd rather you remember me for who you met me as,
rather than who I am.”

She spoke like a much older woman, even though she
was only eighteen or so. It reminded Kinker of his own secrets,
which sparked an idea in his head to get her talking.

“Let's make a deal, then,” said Kinker. “A trade, so
to speak.”

Jenur frowned. “Kinks, you do realize I don't have
anything to give you, right? I've only got the clothes on my back
now and I'm pretty certain you're not a young woman, so they'd
probably look really awkward on you.”

“Not that kind of deal,” said Kinker, shaking his
head. “I mean, let's trade stories. I tell you my past and you tell
me your past.”

Jenur raised an eyebrow. “I doubt your past is
anywhere near as bad as mine. Doesn't seem like a fair trade to
me.”

Kinker's legs were starting to get tired, so he
pulled up a nearby stool and sat on it. “Let me tell you, Jenur,
that I haven't been entirely honest about my past, either. There's
a secret I've been keeping from everyone. I don't know if it's as
bad as yours, but as you said, I've my reasons for keeping quiet
about it.”

Jenur looked thoughtful for a moment. “Never would
have pegged you for the guy with the mysterious past, Kinks. You
just never seemed that mysterious to me. No offense.”

“None taken,” said Kinker. “Like you, I've been
careful about the information I give to people about my past. Have
you never wondered why I fled Destan in the first place? Especially
in that terrible storm?”

“Never really thought about it, actually,” said
Jenur. “I just thought that as an old man you had lost some of your
marbles and were looking for them in the sea. I know you better
now, though, so that's probably not likely.”

Kinker laughed. “So do you agree to the deal? I'll
even go first, if you want.”

Jenur shifted in her seat as best as she could. “All
right. Sounds like a fair deal. And yeah, you can go first, if you
want. I'll listen.”

“All right,” Kinker said. He hesitated, then began.
“My home is an island called Destan, the southernmost island in the
Northern Isles, located right before the southern seas. I was born
there to my parents, both accomplished fishermen. I was practically
raised on fishing boats and ships and probably learned to swim
before I learned to walk.”

“What were your parents like?” said Jenur.

Kinker looked at her in surprise. He hadn't expected
her to start asking questions so soon. “My father was a great man.
Always laughing. Very kind. He could be a bit forgetful at times,
but he was the best fisherman I ever knew and he taught me
everything I know about the sport. My mother was a bit like you,
actually. She sometimes acted a bit sarcastic, but she had a loyal
heart. I suppose that's how their marriage worked out.”

“Oh,” said Jenur. “Are they still alive?”

“No,” said Kinker. “Father died while fishing. Got
knocked overboard by a wave. He unfortunately drowned because he
was too far from shore and no one was close enough to help. As for
mother, she died of old age ten years ago. Hit me really hard, but
I've moved on, taking what they taught me and living my life.”

“Your hands are shaking.”

Kinker looked down at his hands and saw that they
were indeed shaking. “I must be cold.”

“Right,” said Jenur. “Continue. I'm listening.”

“All right,” said Kinker. “Let's see ... I never
married. Not very interested in women, to be honest. Always
preferred men.”

“Same here,” said Jenur. “I knew there was a reason
I liked you.”

Kinker chuckled. “Yes, well, I was too busy with my
work to get into romance or relationships. Between fishing and
worshiping at the Temple, I barely had time for anything else.
Destan's a pretty small, slow island, so I kept up this routine of
fishing and worshiping for decades.”

“And you never got bored?” said Jenur. “Never wanted
to do something different?”

Kinker shrugged. “It never occurred to me to do
anything differently. My life was good. Everyone around me seemed
happy with their lives, and the priests often told us that we
pleased Kano with our behavior. It really wasn't until a month ago,
when I joined the crew of this ship, that I started to doubt.”

“Doubt?” said Jenur. “What do you mean?”

Kinker leaned forward, putting his hands together
and said, “You see, there are six tribes on Destan, united by our
common belief in Kano. Each tribe has a different job, such as
fishing or governing. My tribe was the Hook tribe, made up of
fishermen, sailors, and other people who worked on or near the
seas. That's why I became a fisherman.”

“You mean you never had a choice in your career?”
said Jenur. “Ever?”

Kinker blinked. “Choice? I don't think you
understand, Jenur. When you're born into a tribe on Destan, that's
where you will be for the rest of your life. The tribe is your
family and friends. The tribe is where you get a job, learn skills,
and contribute to the community. Granted, not every Hook enjoys
fishing, but in all of my years on Destan, I've never heard anyone
of any tribe wish they could belong to another tribe.”

“Hmm,” said Jenur. “Doesn't sound like a very good
way to live. No offense, Kinks.”

“It's all right,” said Kinker. “Outsiders who came
from the north never really understood. At least when we explained
it to them. Most visitors only came for the abundant zappers and
black fish that can be found in the seas around Destan. Few were
interested enough in our culture to ask any questions.”

“So what made you leave home?” said Jenur. “Sounds
like to me you had it going. A good job, a stable community, plenty
of food, water, clothes, and everything else. Can't imagine why
anyone would want to leave that.”

Kinker frowned and looked at his feet. “For a while
there, it did seem idyllic. You see, one of the tribes is the
Priest tribe. It is the smallest tribe, but it is the tribe that
rules all the other tribes and leads worship of Kano. I'm not sure
how the Priest tribe gained that kind of power. It probably
happened a long, long time ago. That's all I know.

“The head priestess is a woman named Deber Sinrod.
She's around my age, perhaps a year or two older, and only became
head priestess a couple of years ago when her predecessor passed
away in his sleep. In many ways, she was like a queen to us. No one
ever questioned her or said anything bad about her. And those that
did ... well, they often disappeared, their bodies washing up on
shore days later. We just assumed they drowned, which is a common
way to die on Destan, especially among us Hooks.”