Science has agreed for years that heat was a quantifiable energy content. More heat necessitates more energy. Also, there are those on the scientific fringe that believe that energy could be converted to matter and vice versa.
If they were correct, then the docks at Port Archer would have manifested as an oven. Cold Snap felt the sweat roll down his face like an ocean. Even sitting under an awning away from the main action of the loading docks, he was drenched.
This place wasn’t like his mountain home. It wasn’t cool. It was blistering and possessed a swamp for an atmosphere. It wasn’t beautiful. It took great pains to avoid any semblance to beauty. The buildings were all of identical plank and façade constructions that looked like they might blow over in the next hard gale. Given the regularity of “hurricanes” as the locals called them, they probably did and were rebuilt immediately afterwards.
Lastly, this place smelled terrible, not quite indescribable, merely terrible. Home smelled like pines. It smelled like the subtle burn of ripening spices. It smelled like the storms blown across the hills in the afternoons. This place smelled like a sewer stuffed with month-old fish.
Snap tried to avoid thinking about the smell and focus on the familiar scent of spices beneath him. That was the real reason why he was here instead of at home. Two months ago, his father pulled him aside and told him he was old enough to take on some of the family’s greater responsibilities. This one was nothing but an errand run to a buyer with the prospects of a long-term deal.
Every day they delayed soured that deal. Of course, Snap had to admit to himself that he was being paranoid. Travel across the mountains and the Gulf of Abyssinia was not an exact science, and seasonal weather could stall travel for days or weeks. It did not help that the ship they intended to book had left nearly two days ago to keep its schedule.
He breathed deeply, trying to smell the charred, peppery scent of smoke-cherries or the sweet tang of queensbreath. Unfortunately, he got a healthy whiff of the seaside as well. He coughed and flicked his tail irritably. He looked over the active docks for a familiar face.
The rest of the docks bustled with laborers loading or unloading ships. Minotaurs dominated the decks and quays, but there were a healthy mix of Abyssinians bounding through the rigging as they replaced or patched sails, unicorns and pegasi managing cargo, earth ponies like himself working cranes and wagons. Snap even saw a few zebras and diamond dogs on some of the larger vessels.
What he did not see was his friend. He debated going out to find him. The guard his father had sent along could watch the shipment perfectly well in his absence, but he knew that the moment he disappeared to find his friend would be the moment his friend came back. They’d known each other too long to believe otherwise.
So, Snap waited. In half-an-hour, he was reconsidering his decision to wait when he saw a familiar shock of dark hair in the crowd. The mane was the only thing visible about his friend, that and the glowing horn. Finally, he reached the awning, chewing on some unidentifiable, local pastry.
“Shorry, bhut de’s”- he started.
“Swallow, then speak,” Snap said as he crossed his rust-colored forelegs.
The unicorn chewed furiously and gulped. “I was saying that all the ships are either already booked or won’t divert.”
Cold Snap grit his teeth. Of course that would happen. He tapped the crates beneath him. Tapping turned into soft drumming.
“Sorry, bud. Wish it wasn’t that way.”
The drumming ended in a harsh sigh. “It’s fine, Neb. It’s my fault for stalling as long as we did early on.”
Nebula polished off his sweet and gave Snap a rough pat on the shoulder. “Don’t be too rough on yourself. We’ve both made a few stupid mistakes on this trip.”
“Yeah, but yours didn’t cost us a week in this dump,” Snap grumbled as he went over the possible alternatives. Travel over this part of the gulf took nearly two weeks, accounting for the occasional unfavorable wind. The next ship guaranteed to make the route from Port Archer to Galeston wouldn’t arrive for at least another four days. All in all, that added as much as another week to his travel plans, not unacceptable, but not becoming to a prospective client.
This time of the year put them just before the foul weather season. In another month, storms would blow in from the warm ocean and scramble the shipping routes. Many captains would leave for better areas or take longer routes.
Snap was running out of time.
A hoof lightly clonked him over the head. “Relax. I know that look. Everything will work out.”
Snap looked at Nebula. The dun-colored unicorn smiled and shrugged. “No idea how though. So, I’d appreciate ideas.”
That forced a reluctant laugh from Snap. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out. You sure you asked all the ships?”
Nebula shrugged. “At least most of them. One or two might have showed up after I left, but I doubt it.”
“Well,” Snap said as he hopped off his cargo. “Then I guess we better check again.”
Dread crept across the unicorn’s face as he realized he had to walk the port again. Snap chuckled. “Don’t worry. You get to show me where you got your snack.”
That brightened his friend’s mood. They left the cargo under the guard’s watch and set out to find a ship. Most, Nebula passed without a word or with a terse explanation of why they wouldn’t work. Several dozen ships lined the various docks, but Snap quickly figured out why his friend had such a hard time.
Many of the ships here were small sloops and ketches that never left the shallow waters. A few of the remainder were well-rigged ships, but most of them wouldn’t take them on for one reason or another. The rest were military.
These sat on the far end of the port under guard. Armed minotaurs patrolled the decks and entrances, making sure no troublemakers got inside. Lines of armored minotaurs waited under large tents as the waited their turn to board the transports.
“War’s got nearly everyone tied up. The big haulers are on military contracts, and the smaller ones are busy filling the gaps. Unfortunately, we are small-fry going way out of the way,” Snap observed.
“That’s the long and short of it. Have you considered offering more?” Nebula asked.
Snap only shook his head. “Wouldn’t make much difference. Most of these wouldn’t budge for what I can offer. Looks like we get to wait.”
Nebula looked at his moping friend. He brightened as an idea struck him. “Say, I do know where you can get a great sour blackberry tart.”
He dragged Snap through the congested city streets until they found a shop that wavered between street-side stall and permanent establishment. He bought a few of the specialties and maneuvered to a less crowded spot that also seemed slightly less dirty.
“It’s been two years. Are the two old goats ever going to call truce?” the unicorn asked.
Chewing thoughtfully, Snap considered his answer. “The king’s officers better not hear you calling him that, but I doubt it anytime soon. There’s territory and shipping lanes on the line. Minotaurs don’t back away from a fight, and the zebras have a big stake in a victory.”
The two finished their tarts and turned to scour the docks once more, but both knew it was a wasted effort. Perhaps the northernmost end of the port past the naval berths might have something? Snap was willing to give it a try.
Nearly at the military ships, both wanted to give it up. No skipper would take them, and their attempts to convince them otherwise failed spectacularly. Nebula rubbed his head as they stumbled down the swaying gangplank of a green-painted schooner. “Did he have to hit? Did he have to hit that hard?”
“Can we just give up and go get our room? There’s supposed to be another ship coming in soon. We’ll wait for it.”
“The one that stops in Calah?” Nebula asked.
Add another six days delay for that. Snap bit back a curse before he could embarrass himself in front of strangers.
“Excuse me, sirs?”
The two looked up to see a young Abyssinian waiting ahead of them. Her clothing was obviously used, but in good repair and good tastes in the way it complimented her calico fur. Her bearing was reserved, shrewd, and mildly interested in them. All in all, she looked somewhat respectable, but slightly rough around the edges.
“I hear you’re looking for a ship?” she asked Nebula.
Snap stepped forward as the unicorn started to nod. “That we are, miss…?”
“Hazel.”
She grinned slightly, just enough to show her impressive teeth. “Where are you going?”
By the tone she asked it and the fact that she knew they were looking for a ship at all meant that she already knew the answer, but Snap knew that wouldn’t change anything. “Bound for Galeston. Do you know a ship that will take us?”
Hazel licked her lips, taking a deliberate sweep over her jutting, ivory teeth. “I might. What’s your cargo?”
Processed agricultural products, that was all she needed to know. About one ton of baled samples for a prospective buyer. It seemed better to downplay the cargo. The less she thought he valued it aside from his business deal, the less she had to hold over him in negotiations.
Oh, and they needed berths for three.
“So, do you know a ship?” Nebula pressed.
Hazel tugged on her jacket. “Indeed I do. Follow me, if you don’t mind.”
She led them through the port once more, but unlike their previous attempts, she diverted from the main areas and took a few back roads. Snap thought this rather odd. That took them away from the commercial region and into some smaller, private docks.
That’s what he thought at least. Minutes later, they passed through streets that were seedy even by Port Archer’s standards and came to a section of harbor notably older than what they left. Small boats of all descriptions filled the place. Snap frowned. Most, no, all, of these ships were still too small. Most of them verged on pleasure craft or trawlers. These weren’t ships that would take to deep water.
Of course, he grew up in a place where the deepest water was a frigid, spring-fed lake. What did he know about sailing?
Hazel did not hesitate. She turned onto a section of the pier and walked quickly past a couple of fishing vessels refitting for their next run. She passed five passengers hopping into a pleasure skiff offering three-hour coastal tours.
Finally, only one ship remained. A ship with fading yellow paint on its hull and a sun-bleached dog for a figurehead bobbed softly in the last berth. Two masts stood nearly naked as the crew buzzed around the ship doing...whatever crews did to make them ready. This one had its varied crew like many other ships, but ponies made up a much larger percentage of the crew.
Hazel motioned them to wait as she scampered up the plank. She snagged a rough-looking minotaur who seemed marginally better dressed than everyone else. Snap couldn’t hear anything they said, but he could see them look his direction several times before the minotaur nodded and came over to them.
He was a big bull, but past his prime. Curious boots hid his legs in black canvas. Scars cut through his fur and he walked with a slight stoop, but his eyes still marked him as a sharp character. He doffed a wide-brimmed hat trimmed with a single, golden hatband. “A fine afternoo’ to you. Name’s Wrought Iron, captain of the Golden Hound. My bosun tells me you’re trying for Galeston?”
Snap introduced himself and his friend before confirming. “Correct, Captain. You’re going there, I take it?”
The bull lifted a hand and waved it back and forth, but he realized the gesture was lost on the two. “Wasn’t originally to tell the truth.”
Nebula stiffened beside him. Snap held a hoof out to stall anything his friend might say next. “But now?” he ventured.
Wrought Iron replaced his hat of office. “Now I’m two days ahead of schedule and Galeston wouldn’t be that far out of my hired route. I have space three and cargo, yes, and we can leave this afternoon with the tide.”
He bent over and fixed Snap with a stern eye. “That’s if ya hurry. I’ve got other paying passengers, one which wants all speed. Take too long, and the Hound will be long gone by mid’ight.”
He then named a figure that had Snap blanching inside. While not as high as it could have been, it was higher than he would have liked. A few minutes of haggling lowered it, but only barely. It seemed better to take what he’d been given than look for something perfect.
The two friends returned for their guard and cargo and spent a frantic half-hour dragging their loaded wagon through streets barely large enough to scrape through.
“What’s bothering you? Is it that bull?” Nebula asked as the wagon jolted over a rough timber.
The heat seemed even more unbearable while pulling the load, and Snap had to gasp a time or two before he could answer. “What? The captain?”
Without waiting for his friend to clarify, he plowed on. “He was pushy, but that’s business for you. Nah, I’m just upset with myself. For missing the boat, I mean. Don’t worry about it,” he finished in a grunt.
Nebula looked like he wanted to chase this problem down to the core, but he saw that Snap wasn’t in a mood for that. So, he let it drop and watched the city pass. By now, they were back in the old harbor.
Even before the war, the harbor had been small, and the port had been making efforts to modernize for the larger ships. The minotaurs’ Crown Navy only accelerated those plans. Those included more and larger moorings for marine transports and their ships-of-the-line. From what he’d heard while wandering the ships, those expansions included places for those massive kings of the navy they had heard so much about.
None of them currently waited here. They were either out on maneuvers or patrolling key points in, well, wherever this war was being fought. Cold Snap never quite understood it.
Actually, he didn’t understand any of it. He could be told about sails and cannons and capstans, but it meant little to someone who had never seen a real ship before today. He didn’t understand why one spit of ground hundreds of miles away was so critical to their king’s pride. He didn’t understand because none of it ever affected him.
At least, it hadn’t affected them in ways they would have noticed until now. Something as simple as trying to arrange passage proved to be the simple reminder that times were not exactly normal.
By now, they were nearing the Golden Hound. A crane creaked from the ship’s main rigging as the various creatures crewing it swarmed over the various crates and bales in the wagon. Before Snap could get a word off, his cargo seemed to have vanished into the depths of the hold, and only a couple of unicorns levitating ropes remained to secure the cargo.
“Mah mates werk fast. Don’t they?” Wrought Iron asked in a loud voice.
A dozen voices echoed over the deck. “Aye, sir!”
The captain chuckled and gestured to a dark hole in the deck illuminated by only a few glowing stones. “And there are ya bunks, the ones with the white cloth on the tops. I needn’t repeat myself, but there will be no trouble for me or my crew. I am master over this ship, and I’ve sailed these waters my whole life. Obey me; obey the crew. Am I clear?”
The challenging glint in his eye left no doubt that if he wasn’t, then he would boot them to the pier and sail off without looking back. Snap cleared his throat nervously. “Inescapably, sir.”
A slight smile crossed the captain’s thin lips. “Good. Meals will be taken with the crew. If you miss one, then you’ll have to wait until the next meal. Have you taken this route before?”
“Uh,” Snap tried to think of a good way to answer the question, but Nebula solved that debate. “First time on a ship like this.”
An expression halfway between dread and annoyance replaced Wrought Iron’s calm aura. “Well, then. It sounds like you might be missing a few meals then.”
Without another word, he turned and began shouting orders for his crew as they scrambled around the deck and cables. The ship vibrated with energy, and the only place for them now was below decks.
As promised, they were not alone. Three others occupied the crowded passenger room. Two unicorns seemed to know each other and were friendly enough, but the hippogriff seemed content to keep his peace and not interact beyond the necessary pleasantries.
That is, until a sudden sway in the ship caused Cold Snap to stumble as he was stowing his belongings. A throaty chuckle sounded from the hippogriff’s bunk. “Well, well. You haven’t been on a boat before?”
Cheeks burning, Snap focused on his small saddlebags. “It’s-it’s that obvious?”
After a stutter like that, he cringed and couldn’t bring himself to face the fellow.
The hippogriff snorted, ignoring the various glares from the other passengers. “As obvious as a flopping fish. Don’t worry. About the time you get off the boat, you’ll finally be used to it.”
If that was a joke, it wasn’t well-done, but it banished the last of his embarrassment. Snap turned. Light reflected through an open shutter and illuminated the room adequately enough to see the hippogriff’s strong shoulders and muted blue hue. A few minor scars crossed his forelegs, but nothing recent and nothing that hinted at his occupation. His eyes, however, seized Snap’s attention.
Eyes so brown they were nearly black stared back. They radiated intelligence while demanding attention. Cold Snap had always felt proud of his abilities to read others’ intentions. It was why his father handed him this job in the first place. These eyes could pick him apart in an instant.
“Name’s Mr. Horn,” the hippogriff said.
The pony raised his eyebrow. Mr. Horn waved a gleaming talon. “I know. I know. No horn. I get asked that often, but I figure we might as well get it over with now.”
Cold Snap smiled, perhaps the first real smile he had since coming into this cabin.
Mr. Horn leaned forwards, steepling his claws as he did so. “Think you’re ready for it?”
Confused stares were the only answer Snap could give. The hippogriff elaborated. “First voyage, the sea legs, standing at the railing, watching for sea monsters, you ready for it all?”
“We’ll find out,” Snap answered before responding, “You sail often.”
It wasn’t a question. “Indeed, I do.”
Finally, Cold Snap had to ask the question probably on everyone’s mind. “Sea monsters? Are there really sea monsters?”
Mr. Horn rolled his eyes. “Certainly, but not as many as the salts make it out to be. They’re always coming up with new reasons why they lost something. You afraid of them? Not, say, sea serpents?”
Snap shook his head.
“How about long-necked creatures as long as this ship? Can crush a sailor in one bite?”
Snap gulped, but still shook his head.
“How about demon ships?”
“Now you’re just making things up,” Nebula interrupted.
That made Mr. Horn raise his eyebrows, such as hippogriffs had anyways, and lean closer to the now gulping unicorn. He took his time formulating a response. “Am I? I’ve heard of one. Dark as a moonless night. No one knows its name. Been plundering left and right for years now. It flies through the water like a cloud through the sky. Winds don’t touch it. Not a shot’s scratched it.”
The entire cabin fell speechless at his story. Once Mr. Horn saw everyone under his spell, he smiled and gestured with his claws. One chased the other like a pursuing ship.
“It doesn’t have sails. It doesn’t need sails. Hellfire burns the sea in its wake. Ravaging beasts crew it, ready to take booty and blood. Tortoise. Whiplash. Brilliant Dawn. Fearless. All these were found limping home, holds emptied and survivors weeping for rescue. Who knows how many more rest beneath the waves? All the murderers say to the survivors is ‘Not yet.’ And then? They’re gone in smoke and fire.”
His story now over, Mr. Horn relaxed into his thin mattress. Freed from his gripping tale, the audience forced laughs at the sea yarn and tried to focus on their own affairs, but they all walked like death was about to descend upon the Golden Hound.
Snap approached the hippogriff who studied him with a curious eye. “Are they real?”
Mr. Horn did not need clarification. “As real as you or I, lad. Don’t worry though. They’re not demons. Demons don’t worry about whose flag their prey is flying.”
With that, he settled in for a nap. Hours passed as Snap had little to do but watch the light filtering through the window work its way up the wall. Hooves and feet pounded across the deck above them, and Snap realized that if the outside was hot, then this place was stifling. Even with the windows open, the air settled in the cabin. One of the unicorns promised it would get better once they were underway.
She was right, but only because the sun had set by then. By the time night fell, Port Archer was fading behind them, and they were riding the sea-breeze into the Gulf of Abyssinia.
Cold Snap stared up at the dark ceiling timbers. Everyone else had long since been lulled to sleep by the gentle pitching of the ship, but he was too excited to sleep yet. He had a job to do, and he would not let his father down! He’d been slowed down, but not stopped.
In a few weeks, he’d be concluding this deal. In a month, he’d be back home. It was a little surreal at times and he had to remind himself that it was really happening.
He pulled the unfamiliar sheets closer around him and felt his eyes drift across the room again. This time, they stopped on the dozing hippogriff. Snap’s insides twisted at the sight. This hippogriff had been engaging, the very opposite of impolite, but volunteered little else other than his horrifying stories.
Others had told him that he had a good feel for others’ intentions, and something seemed off about this fellow. Not one of his intuitions could be placed on a single cause, and trying to do so only frustrated the young colt.
So, what was he hiding?
Were monsters and demons going to end his first voyage?
And what did the captain mean by missing a few meals?