Unlikely Alliance

Cane watched calmly as the Veda pulled out of Loramo Harbor, gripping the wooden railing of the three-masted ship as it swayed beneath his feet.

"Blacksmiths shouldn't go to sea. It's not natural."

Jonas Ironfist's deep voice rumbled from behind him.

Cane smiled at the huge man. They were the same height, but Jonas was easily twice his weight—all of it muscle. He had a full head of bright red hair and a constellation of freckles. Jonas was not made for sea or sun.

Cane had spent three years apprenticing under the Journeymen and needed special permission from the Trades Commission to do so, since Jonas wasn't a master craftsman.

"You'd better start with your hammer work right away." Jonas handed him a sixteen-pound hammer that looked like a child's toy in his huge fist. "Fifty with each hand."

Cane grabbed the hammer one-handed. They were crossing the Rhabis Sea to reach the capital, where Jonas would take his Master Craftsman test. His first act after passing would be to promote Cane to Journeyman.

Cane raised the hammer to shoulder height and brought it down, stopping the motion at his waist. "One…"

The Rhabis Sea was the main battleground between the Ora and Zuni Empires. Their war, now thirty years running, was primarily fought at sea. Coastal cities on both sides were frequently raided, and the small islands of the Verdan Archipelago changed hands regularly. Pirates added chaos, raiding both sides and often posing as legitimate naval forces. Keeping the war going was good for business.

Cane slept on deck. The sound of the ocean and the gentle rocking didn't bother him. He had short black hair and stood slightly above average height. Once promoted to Journeyman, he planned to travel—blacksmiths were always in demand. He was particularly skilled at elemental metallurgy: infusing weapons and armor with elemental traits. It was an inborn talent. Since Jonas couldn't do it, Cane had learned mostly from books and experiments.

He used his pack as a pillow and stared up at the night sky. A noise off the starboard bow caught his attention. In the dim light, he saw the outline of another ship. Then he heard the hiss of a dozen fuses being lit.

"Pirates!" he screamed and dove over the rail.

He hit the water just as cannon fire tore into the Veda. The blasts lit the depths as Cane swam in long strokes, staying submerged as long as he could. When he surfaced, it was just enough to breathe. The full moon cast shadows he didn't want to make.

Cane swam for ten minutes before pausing. In the distance, he saw pirates boarding the Veda. Screams and gunfire carried across the water. He treaded water and watched. It took over an hour before the pirate ship pulled away. By then, the Veda was half-sunk.

Back on the ruined ship, he slogged through water already knee-deep on deck. He found his pack where he'd left it. After searching, he scavenged a sword, two canteens, boots, and a piece of leather armor. He checked for survivors; most of the corpses were already floating in the water. 

"JONAS!" Cane shouted his Master's name, re-searching the devastated deck of the partially submerged Veda.

As the water rose from knee to hip, he was forced into a sense of urgency to switch from searching for his mentor to self-preservation.

A portion of the mast lay over the portside rail; it was large enough to keep him afloat, but then Cane spotted something better: the boarding dinghy, left upside down on the deck. It was undamaged.

He freed it from its tie-down and used an oar to pry it upright. Tossing in his gear and both oars, he shoved off. He had no idea where to go—but rowed away from the pirate ship.

**

"Bring him onboard."

Cane didn't hear the voice that decided his fate nearly two weeks later. He had been adrift since the attack, stretching his water supply for ten days.

"What about his things, Captain?"

The second voice was feminine, musical.

"Just junk. Let the dinghy drift," came the first voice.

Someone poured water down his throat—just enough to burn. Cane rolled onto his side, a raspy groan escaping. His sunburned body was blistered, his lips cracked and torn. Hours passed in darkness before he opened his eyes.

He was in a cage—a two-meter square holding pen used by slavers. He propped himself against the bars, dizzy. A bucket of water and a dipper sat beside him. Cane drank slowly. At least they wanted him alive.

"You someone special, boy? Why would Orion leave you water?"

A low voice came from the neighboring cage.

In the dark, he saw she was blonde and might have been beautiful once—before someone beat her. Her eyes held nothing but despair.

Cane said nothing, just took another drink. Then, he refilled the dipper and passed it through the bars. A torn, bloody hand, missing most fingernails, snatched it. He heard her drink. He refilled it and passed it over twice more while studying his surroundings.

At least two dozen cages. Most occupied. A faint breath drew his attention to the other side. He'd never seen one before, but the fins where her legs should be told him she was merfolk. Her scales were drying. Her chest rose and fell slowly. He offered her the dipper, but she shook her head.

"She can't drink that," the blonde said. "She needs salt water."

"Salt water?" 

He'd never spoken to merfolk before. "Do you have a cup?"

A pale, webbed hand passed him a dented cup.

"I need something sharp. A nail or hinge."

"It won't matter. Neri is dying." The blonde woman's voice cracked. They were close.

Cane turned to the wall. "Neri, is it? A drop of your blood, please."

He held the cup through the bars. She hesitated.

"Are you a metallurgist, boy?" The blonde gripped the bars, ready to defend.

"A blacksmith. But I know a bit of metallurgy."

"It's okay, Neri," the blonde said gently. "I don't think he's our enemy."

Cane pried up a loose nail. By the time he returned, Neri had bled into the cup.

"Perfect."

He dipped the nail in the blood and began engraving the cup. He murmured arcane words, flipped the nail, and tapped patterns. The engravings glowed. It took two hours. Exhausted, Cane drank from his dipper, then handed the engraved empty cup to Neri.

She looked puzzled.

"Sorry. Breathe into it."

He waited and watched. "I'm Cane."

She held the cup and breathed into it. Neri gasped and nearly dropped it. Then she drank. Cane smiled.

"Thank you, Cane," the blonde said, her face brightening.

"You'll have to breathe into it whenever you want water. It's not endless—maybe a barrel's worth."

Cane checked himself. Shirt, boots, pants—but no bag.

"I'm Rhiati, you can call me Ria. Can you do my cup too?"

She offered it, but Cane shook his head.

"Oddly, I only know the saltwater version of that rune."

She laughed. "Only saltwater? Then our meeting must be destiny."

Neri nodded while drinking.

"I was traveling to the Ora capital when pirates attacked us," Cane said, examining his cage. "They made a mistake not shackling me."

"This is a slaver ship. You'll be sold. The two of us already have a buyer. Our enemies conspired against us."

She lowered her voice. "What are you doing?"

"Hmm? Oh, escaping."

Cane worked the nail against the hinge.

"Can you pick the lock?"

"No, but I don't need to. It's a capped hinge—remove the cap, push the pin."

The other slaves ignored him. It took fifteen minutes to open his cage, another hour to free Ria and Neri.

Ria looked at him. Of the three, he was in the best shape.

"Up the stairs and over the rail. Simple."

"Won't they shoot us? Or pick us up again?"

"They would. Unless we have a mermaid. Once she's in the water, we're in the clear."

"Then I should carry her."

He lifted Neri and followed Ria up the steps. The rail came into view. Ria nodded and ran forward.

Despite their condition, they reached the rail before the alarm. Cane didn't hesitate. He leapt.

As soon as they hit the water, Neri came alive. She gripped his wrist, pulling him with surprising speed. They surfaced, but she didn't slow. She pulled them both through the night.

By dawn, they reached land. Coughing, Cane and Ria collapsed on the beach.

Cane struggled to stand. Ria was already upright.

"They took her necklace, so she has to stay in merform until she makes another. It won't take long. We'll meet her in the cove."

Cane followed Ria down a worn trail to a cluster of huts. She opened one door and went inside. When she returned:

"You can rest here. Neri's a healer. I'm going to the cove to be patched up."

Cane nodded and lay on the cot. He was asleep instantly.

Hours later, the door creaked open.

"Neri asked for you to come to the cove," Ria said.

Cane stretched and rose. "Where is this place? Who are you exactly?"

"I'm a Corsaire. Neri is my ship's healer and first mate."

Cane smiled politely while cursing internally. A damn pirate. Corsaires were just state-sponsored pirates.

Neri was swimming in the cove when they arrived.

"She likes you," Ria said. "She never goes near human men."

"Isn't that hard for a healer?"

"My crew is all female."

Cane paused. He remembered something about a famous female pirate but lost his train of thought when he saw Neri. She wore only a shell necklace.

"Is that the one that lets you shift?"

Neri nodded. Her hair, he realized, was dark blue. She placed her hands on his shoulders. A glow surrounded them. His wounds healed.

When she finished, she didn't let go. She stared at him.

"She says thank you. She owes you a favor," Ria called from the beach.

Neri nodded, then touched his shoulders. Slowly, she leaned forward until their foreheads met.

"What are you doing, Neri?" Ria interrupted.

With a sigh, Neri pulled away.

"That was significant," Ria said. "With merfolk, forehead touches are intimate."

Cane didn't reply. The contact had exchanged a memory—already fading.

Later, the three ate a meal Neri cooked. She now wore black leather pants and a white blouse. In human form, she appeared slender and striking, her blue hair reaching her waist; and of course, she could speak.

"Was that sea turtle?" Cane asked.

Neri nodded. "Did you like it?"

"Delicious. Thank you."

Ria had been quiet. In the candlelight, she looked ethereal—blonde hair draped over one shoulder, red ribbons woven through. She wore the same outfit as Neri. Her eye color was hard to tell, but she was beautiful.

"I'm in your debt," Ria said, handing him a letter. "This is for Arch-Mage Telamon at the Magi Academy in Ora. He will reward you."

Cane studied it. "Is a ship coming?"

"Yes. Two, actually. One for us arrives tomorrow. Yours will come in a few days. I've arranged it."

They talked late into the night. When Cane awoke after dawn, they were gone. A pack of supplies sat beside the cot. A small shell bracelet rested next to it.

He smiled and slipped it on. Glancing at the letter, he murmured:

"The Magi Academy… it's as good a start as any."