Resolved, Zala angled her sword straight toward the dark figures, relaxing her muscles into a fight-ready stance. The larger of the shadows pushed the tip of her blade aside as though it were a feather. She swung the motion back and prepared to slash as the smaller figure dipped its head into the light. The sight of the pirate’s face halted her strike.
The man was tall and lean with olive-toned skin, a close-cropped cut atop his head with a beard that had likely never known the rake of a comb.
Zala sighed with disgust. “I saw it first, Mantu. I have claim to that aloe.”
“We come here before you, chana.” The other man stomped into the light, his Southern Isle dialect thick in the air as he cleared his nose with a loud snort. For obvious reasons, everyone called him “Sniffs”—though only behind his back. Whenever in earshot, the crew referred to him by his given name Duma. He was one of the tallest—and largest—men Zala had ever known. Several rows of lumpy braids lined the top of his head like a weaverbird’s nest. Though lit by the room’s faint lanterns, the dark complexion of his face still left him in an eerie gloom.
“No, the rules are we divide our loot equally,” Zala said as she tried to sidestep the pair of men. She wouldn’t be able to strong-arm her way to the crates of aloe, but if she could distract them first, she might be able to swipe one and run. Fon wouldn’t mind making a break for it, would she?
“Don’t even front, chana. When the last time you split the loot equal?” Mantu asked, folding his arms. The man wasn’t as wide as Sniffs, but he still towered over Zala. “You and the butterfly can find another barrel.”
Zala bit her tongue. He wasn’t exactly wrong where equal splitting was concerned.
“Fine, let’s put it to a bet, then.” Zala eyed the room, searching for a match she could win. If there was one thing she knew about Mantu, it was that he could never resist a good wager.
Sniffs wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “We claim this already.”
“There’s plenty of room in your pockets for a bet, I’m sure.” Zala looked to Fon for support, but the aziza just crossed her arms and frowned.
Zala chewed on her lip as more thuds thundered above. Her crew would win soon. And the moment that happened, the sooner the looting would begin in full. She didn’t have time for this. She needed that aloe now so she could continue her search.
Finding nothing in the room that favored her chances in a wager, she directed her eyes to the bows at their backs. “Bet I can hit more Vaaji through the fog than you.”
“I already killed two men,” Mantu said, smirking. “Might be a challenge if them dikala could shoot back worth a damn.”
“Let’s see, then.” Zala pulled her own bow from over her shoulder. “First to three claims the aloe.”
“We was first, girl,” Sniffs taunted. “We ain’t need no bet, you feel me?”
Zala grinned. “Afraid I can outshoot you?”
Sniffs sucked his teeth, waving his meaty hand.
Damnit, he’s not biting, she thought.
“I’ll take on the pair of you,” Zala added quickly. “If you two together can shoot down three of theirs before I do... we’ll leave the crates to you.”
Mantu stroked his unkempt beard in thought. Sniffs counted out “three” on his fingers as though he weren’t sure of the sum.
“Three’s an easy number to count, Sniffs—eh—Duma,” Fon chided.
His eyes narrowed. “I weren’t countin’ nothin’. I was just... lookin’ at my fingernails.”
Zala cut into the exchange. There was no need to rile up Sniffs when he seemed to at least be humoring the terms of the bet. “So what will it be, Mantu?”
The pirate didn’t budge and continued to caress his facial hair. Zala lifted a questioning eyebrow. On the Titan, he had always been prone to a sure gamble. “An eff mi lose...” She sweetened the deal with a little of Sniff’s flavor of southern pirate-twang. “Yuh kijana can tek mi share dat mi was gonna take.”
“Dat mi did ah gwine tek,” Sniffs corrected her with a scoff. “Stick to the Mother Tongue, chana.”
Zala felt an embarrassing heat rise up her ears. Mantu, however, didn’t seem to notice—his eyes brightened as he ceased the stroking of his beard. “I’ll take you on that. When we win, I get that fancy bow of yours. Always loved to hear them Ya-Seti strings sing.”
Zala clutched at her prized possession instinctively. She could only name one other thing she owned that she truly cared for—the songstone Jelani had given her on the day they were married—but her bow was a close second. The Ya-Seti knew how to make them, recurved to perfection with a wooden finish fit for any self-respecting archer. With it, Zala was a more than decent bowwoman—without it, no better than a novice. She struggled with the thought of losing her prized weapon. Was the bet even worth it?
It’s for Jelani, she reminded herself. Anything’s worth it.
Besides, she would win.
“Agreed.” She stuck out her hand. Mantu pursed his lips together as he looked at her palm, perhaps taken aback by her quick concession.
Sniffs tapped him on his shoulder. “Come on, Mantu. With the two of us that there is easy coin. Easy.”
“All right, then… you got a bet.” Mantu grabbed Zala’s hand and shook it hard. Zala squeezed back, meeting his challenge without wincing. But when they broke away from the handshake, her hand was left red and throbbing.
Zala squatted down next to Fon as she shook life back into her fingertips. “Hey, I’m gonna need some help,” she whispered, glancing across at Mantu and Sniff’s retreating backs. “You can look through the fog, ya? Your kind can see the life energy of others—or something like that?”
“Or something like that…” Fon folded her arms again, her voice taking on a tone of indignation. “You could have asked me before you bet away your loot.”
“We’ve got it, no problem!” Zala gave her a coy half-shrug. “There’s no way I can lose with your help.”
Fon sighed with a frown, and the branches of her tree-bough tattoo bristled under the crease of her forehead.
“You just have to let me know if I’m aiming the right way, okay?” Zala gave the aziza a reassuring smile—or at least she hoped it was reassuring—as she lifted herself back to her full height.
Fon let her head drop with resignation before she stamped one foot and slapped her hand to the side of her temple in an exaggerated salute. “Aye, aye, Cap’n.” Her tone softened, but her eyes went downcast with disappointment. “Just don’t make using me a habit.”
Zala turned and followed Mantu and Sniffs down the narrow corridor. Brushing past them, she gave Mantu one last confident grin before saying, “Well, ladies first, ya?”
“Go ahead.” He gestured to the ladder to the right, which led to the upper-deck hatch. “We’ll take the left.”
Zala climbed the ladder and pushed the underside of the hatch up slowly, using the small slit to scan what was above.
The thick cloud endured, billowing atop the deck like the cloak hem of some giant specter. The clashing of swords between the pirates and Vaaji remained. Every few moments, a figure rushed through the mist to meet another foe.