the Reshi are as carefree as you say, but there are also many who are not. Those prefer to fight. And a trade . . . it is like a fight to them.”
“To me too,” Rysn said.
“I know these people,” Vstim said. “We must have Passion that Talik is not here. He is their best, and often goes to trade with other islands. Whichever you do meet for trade, he or she will judge you as they would judge a rival in battle. And to them, battle is about posturing.
“I once had the misfortune to be on an isle during war.” He paused, coughing, but spurned the drink Kylrm tried to give him. “As the two islands raged, the people climbed down into boats to exchange insults and boasts. They would each start with their weakest, who would yell out boasts, then progress in a kind of verbal duel up to their greatest. After that, arrows and spears, struggling on ships and in the water. Fortunately, there was more yelling than actual cutting.”
Rysn swallowed, nodding.
“You are not ready for this, child,” Vstim said.
“I know.”
“Good. Finally you realize it. Go now. They will not suffer us long on their island unless we agree to join them permanently.”
“Which would require . . . ?” Rysn said.
“Well, for one, it requires giving all you own to their king.”
“Lovely,” Rysn said, rising. “I wonder how he’d look wearing my shoes.” She took a deep breath. “You still haven’t told me what we’re trading for.”
“They know,” her babsk said, then coughed. “Your conversation will not be a negotiation. The terms were set years ago.”
She turned to him, frowning. “What?”
“This is not about what you can get,” Vstim said, “but about whether or not they think you are worthy of it. Convince them.” He hesitated. “Passions guide you, child. Do well.”
It seemed a plea. If their flotilla was turned away . . . The cost of this trade was not in the goods—woods, cloth, simple supplies purchased cheaply—but in the outfitting of a convoy. It was in traveling so far, paying guides, wasting time waiting for a break between storms, then more time searching for the right island. If she was turned away, they could still sell what they had—but at a stiff devastating loss, considering the high overhead of the trip.
Two of the guards, Kylrm and Nlent, joined her as she left Vstim and walked along the docklike protrusion of shell. Now that they were so close, it was difficult to see a creature and not an island. Just ahead of her, the patina of lichen made the shell nearly indistinguishable from rock. Trees clustered here, their roots draping into the water, their branches reaching high and creating a forest.
She hesitantly stepped onto the only path leading up from the waters. Here, the “ground” formed steps that seemed far too square and regular to be natural.
“They cut into its shell?” Rysn said, climbing.
Kylrm grunted. “Chulls can’t feel their shells. This monster probably can’t either.”
As they walked, he kept his hand on his gtet, a type of traditional Thaylen sword. The thing had a large triangular wedge of a blade with a grip directly at the base; you’d hold the grip like a fist, and the long blade would extend out down past the knuckles, with parts of the hilt resting around the wrist for support. Right now, he wore it in a sheath at his side, along with a bow on his back.
Why was he was so anxious? The Reshi were not supposed to be dangerous. Perhaps when you were a paid guard, it was better to assume everyone was dangerous.
The pathway wound upward through thick jungle. The trees here were limber and hale, their branches almost constantly moving. And when the beast stepped, everything shook.
Vines trembled and twisted on the pathway or drooped from branches, and these pulled out of the way at her approach, but crept back quickly after her passing. Soon, she couldn’t see the sea, or even smell its brine. The jungle enveloped everything. Its thick green and brown were broken occasionally by pink and yellow mounds of shalebark that seemed to have been growing for generations.
She’d found the humidity oppressive before, but here it was overwhelming. She felt as if she were swimming, and even her thin linen skirt, blouse, and vest seemed as thick as old Thaylen highland winter gear.
After an interminable climb, she heard voices. To her right, the forest opened up to a view of the ocean