The Navigator, page 22
"She is." Atalai nodded.
"Welcome all of you to the Isle of Mann. We're honored to have you as visitors."
"Very pleased to meet you."
Quill waved Petal and Lhan over to Atalai and the intimidating stranger.
"I'm Mamnon," the stranger began. "Chieftain of this village - Oask. Atalai says you've come to speak with our Kudu guest - Wyman."
"Yes," Quill chimed. "Where can we find him?"
"Wyman is a closely guarded treasure here. Very few outsiders may see him."
"I understand-"
"Khan Rho has been a brother to us. We could not ask for a more pious or benevolent protector. But - while Petal may be his daughter, we are hesitant to let her - or you - see Wyman. He faces many dangers from the outside world, and you have both come here as outsiders."
"Okay. Then what can we do?"
"What do you want from Wyman?"
Quill considered her answer, wondering if Atalai had already told Mamnon their reasons.
"Petal's sister was taken by an S.S.S. ship called the Kowaka Adon. We were told the S.S.S. is looking for us. We want to know why and where they might have taken her."
"How unfortunate." Mamnon lowered his gaze to Petal. "But what could Wyman tell you? He hasn't been in Kudu for many years. His information would be dated."
"We don't know." Quill spoke for her. "But he's the only person on the sea who would know anything about the S.S.S. He has to know something. We came all this way-"
"Why don't you just let us ask him what he knows?" Petal sniffed. "If he doesn't know about the ship why does it matter?"
Atalai smiled. "You are still much like your father."
Petal's cheeks turned pink. She glared at Atalai as if he'd smacked her.
Mamnon ignored her, focusing on Quill instead.
"No outsiders may see Wyman without the Seer's permission. She has authority over all our guests. Khan Rho already told her why you came to Mann. She's offered to meet you tomorrow morning - after tonight's festival in Skrae. I will take you to her."
"The Seer?" Lhan's eyes lit up. "We're going to meet Mann's high priestess?"
"The Seer guards Wyman on this Isle. Her gift of prophesy has prevented him from being murdered by one of Kudu's many spies." Mamnon locked eyes with Quill, emphasizing the word. "She's asked to meet the women and the women only. They may see her tomorrow. After tonight's Jurga."
"A Jurga?" Lhan could hardly contain himself. "Tonight? We'll get to see one?"
"It is not a true Jurga. It's only for one night. But since Khan Rho, Khan Swei, and Khan Malakai have graced our shores to help reequip Yong's Fleet for our use, the people of Mann will hold a celebration in their honor."
Lhan was stunned at his good luck. He couldn't wait to see one of the Isle's world famous festivals.
"Who's the Seer?" Quill bit the inside of her cheek, embarrassed she had to ask.
"The Seer knows all. The past, the present, and the future. Many men have waited decades to speak with her. Some have died while still waiting for her wisdom. Yet she is allowing you to visit her in less than a day. You should feel honored."
- 42-
Quill fiddled with her new clothes. She, Petal, and Lhan had followed the cobblestone path back to the town of Skrae, where Styvers's boat was harbored. By the time they got there, the little seaside village had been converted into a sprawling camp for nomads and fishermen. Mann natives were also out in the streets. They'd just begun preparations for the night's festival.
The Isle's natives seemed to be open and friendly people. They'd opened up their homes and private fields to the influx of new arrivals. They'd even gone as far as handing out free attire for the night's celebration.
Quill and Petal had both been handed celebratory clothes by a doting, old woman on their way back from Oask. The goat herder had invited the girls back to her barn on the surrounding hills, so they would have a private place to change and preen themselves for the coming Jurga.
Quill stared at her reflection in a little puddle of water that had pooled on the barn's dirt floor. The clothes she'd been given resembled a toga – a long, one piece, white tunic that hung off her left shoulder. She felt fresh and clean in her new clothes, finally free of the raggedy old shirt and tattered jeans she'd festered in, on and off, since leaving the Raft. She traced the contours of her new garment, and her eyes came to rest on her feet. The old goat herder had even given her a new pair of strappy leather sandals.
With the exception of Tinian, Quill hadn't worn a new pair of shoes in over six months. That had been sheer torture as she had always loved shoes. Back in Kudu, she had an entire closet full of them in all kinds of cute designs and playful colors. But while she languished out at sea, she'd found shoes to be a rare commodity. Anytime she'd looked for them, they'd either been inordinately expensive or incredibly mannish and ugly.
Quill posed for herself next to the muddy puddle, turning her heels and arching her back like a Khai Shen billboard model.
A sharp creaking noise made her look up. Her face turned pink when she saw Petal climbing down from the barn's upper level.
"Oh my God." She put her hands over her mouth.
Petal's face was as flush as Quill's. She was mortified.
Petal had taken a brief swim in the sea before coming back with Quill to change. Now, for the first time since she and Quill met, she was clean and properly groomed. In her bright, bleached tunic she looked liked a pixie. Her hair was a wavy, vibrant fireball.
Quill had never seen her look so feminine or more adorable.
"You look so fucking cute I could eat you." She rushed over to Petal, hugging her.
Petal stayed limp with her arms dangling at her sides.
"I'm cold in this," she whined. The bottom of the tunic hung just below her ankles. "And whenever I try to walk I keep tripping."
"You just need to take smaller steps - like a lady. You'll get used to it."
Petal's ears perked up; she heard faint signing.
A soft chorus was echoing up the lush hills from the town of Skrae, below. Its melody pleasing and haunting.
"Sounds like the party's started. Let's go." Quill grabbed Petal's hand and dragged her outside, toward the festival.
The girls took the cobblestone path down from the barn, meandering their way into Skrae. All along the path hung decorative flags dyed the colors of the different nomadic hordes. A few of the flags were dyed blue and gray for Rho and the Sand Tigers. The others were a smattering of orange, red, and an odd brownish-green color. Between the forest of flags were dozens of roaring bonfires.
The air over Skrae smelled like roasting meat and sandalwood incense. The sound of singing and the beating of drums mixed with the pungent smells. The haunting, primal atmosphere added to Quill's excitement.
The girls watched as throngs of islanders and nomads staggered by, drunk and giddy. All of them were wearing the same white tunics as they were, although many of them had sashes dyed the different nomad colors.
While some of the revelers were lingering and drinking on the street, a large portion of them were popping in and out of Skrae's main tavern.
Quill stopped next to the tavern's front door, a bit hesitant to go inside. The thunderous music that rumbled the bar's outer wall was overpowering.
While she and Petal dithered on the cobblestone street, a smiling man skipped up to them. He had a gnarled set of teeth and greasy hair. His celebratory tunic was painted bright red and gold, making him look like a clown compared to all the other partiers.
"Greetings Southern Nomads!" he drunkenly shouted. "Which blessed horde do you belong to?"
"The Sand Tigers."
"Our beloved brother Rho!" The man put his hand on his heart. He then shot forward and hugged Quill tightly.
Quill was too surprised to react. She let him squeeze her in a crushing bear hug.
"Here." He released Quill from his iron embrace and waved something that looked like a small sword in front of her face. "Feast on this my lady. In Khan Rho's honor!"
The man tossed a little skewer of meat straight at Quill's chest. She fumbled with the greasy stick, trying to make sure nothing got on her tunic. Oblivious, the man staggered away, disappearing into a mob of revelers without explanation.
"What is this?"
Quill squinted at the little meat skewer, holding it with her fingertips. She took a bite of the glistening meat.
The oily chicken was heavenly.
"Mmmmm. This is really good. Want some?" She passed the skewer to Petal.
Petal devoured the meat. Quill used the free moment to take in Skrae. Just as in Oask, at the center of Skrae was a large fire pit. A mob of people were dancing around the fire in a circle while singing at the top of their lungs. All around the dancers were crowds of nomads and islanders. Those spectators were eating and drinking out on the street and in the open patches of grass that dotted the village.
A thick cloud of smoke billowed up and around the dancers from the fire pit. Its white haze slowly drifted out, over the ocean.
"What are you going to do?" Petal nudged Quill, reluctant to come any closer to the crowd.
"I'm going to party." Quill motioned to the tavern. She could see a line of men and women dancing inside through an open window. "Come on. Let's dance and have some fun. I think we've earned it."
"I don't dance," Petal mumbled.
"Oh, come on." Quill grabbed her hand and yanked her forward. "Don't be scared to dance – it's easy. Follow my lead. I'll teach you."
"No." Petal pulled away. "I don't want to. I don't want to go in there. It's too noisy. I don't like crowds."
Quill glared at her. "Are you nervous or just determined not to have any fun while we're together?"
"What's so fun about getting drunk and overeating?"
"For fuck's sake! I have been shot at, starved, and cooped up in a cage. Now it's time for me to have fun! Do you have to ruin that for me?"
"No. Go get drunk and dance. I don't care. I want to see some more cows. I'll meet up with you tomorrow."
"Urgh. Fine." Quill shook off her anger. "But don't go far or I won't be able to find you. And make sure you stay safe. This island is pretty. . .strange. Be careful. "
"I can take care of myself."
"Whatever. I'm going to try and sleep on Styvers's boat tonight. If he still lets me. Come back there when you're tired."
Petal nodded and then shuffled away.
Within seconds she was lost in the boisterous crowd.
Quill walked into the tavern.
Skrae's tavern was a large, open building. It was packed with nomads and other Mann revelers. All along the walls were dozens of wooden stools and rickety chairs. In front of them was the dance floor - a flat expanse of wood and rivets filled with gyrating dancers.
Quill took a step inside the tavern and watched a group of men and women dance across the floor in a tight, whirling circle. They were singing an old sea people chant. The men and women took turns alternating the chorus to the loud beat of drums and the shrill whine of an old fiddle.
Quill fumbled her way through a line of clapping onlookers so she could get a better view. Everyone on the dance floor was dressed in the same style tunic as she was, but some of them had red, green, or blue sashes slung across their chests and shoulders. Many were holding drinks, sneaking shallow sips from their mugs during the breaks before each chorus.
As Quill took in the atmosphere, the song ended in thunderous applause. The circle of dancers broke up with a brief bow, dispersing into the crowd. The pair of men on drums who were huddled toward the back of the bar switched to a new, more somber tune.
During the interlude, everyone in the bar began to converse. Quill scanned the myriad of smiling, drunken faces and recognized someone. He looked like a giant compared to the other partiers.
"Lhan!"
Quill watched his ruddy face poke up above the crowd. His cheeks and forehead looked flush from dancing and alcohol. He clumsily jostled his way over to her.
"Hijah Quill." Lhan looked her up and down, smiling at her new tunic. "You look so pretty in that. Sorry I didn't wait for ya tah change. Got caught up in all of this. It's so wonderful!"
"Yeah." Quill giggled. "Sounds like you've had a few. Everyone here looks pretty smashed. Where can I get some of what you've been having?"
"Here!"
Lhan was holding a large, wooden mug. He thrust it into Quill's breasts, uncoordinated.
Quill snatched the mug and pressed it to her lips. The liquid inside was harsh and syrupy.
"Ew! What is this stuff?" Her whole face puckered. "It's horrible!"
Lhan leaned into her so he was speaking into her ear. His breath was hot and bitterly sweet from the concoction.
"Iz mead. Ferd-meneted honey and cloves. Have a cup er two and you won't taste it henymore."
Quill watched a drunken sweat trickle down his forehead.
"I bet."
She took two big gulps of the mead, emptying the mug. She then put her arms around Lhan's shoulders and began to rock back and forth to the music.
Lhan gave her a big grin. He looked straight into her eyes, blushing.
"Wha - would you like tah dance with me, Quill? I always wanted to dance with you on the Raft when ya'd go to that club. . .dah. . . . dah Atoll. They always played weird music there. I hate techno." He seemed to scoff at the word. "But this here's sup my alley. So, what'd ya say? Will you dance with me?"
"Yeah. I'd love to."
"Hehe." Lhan grabbed her hand with his two giant paws and led her onto the dance floor.
On cue, the band switched tunes. Their pace quickened into a lively sea people melody. Two groups of dancers lined up on either side of the floor – one line of men and one of women. They stood facing each another.
Quill took her place opposite Lhan. The tempo soon picked up to the rapid strumming of a fiddle. She listened to the men opposite her begin their verse, a smile creeping across her face as she felt the alcohol start to course through her system.
The line of men clapped their hands as they danced what appeared to Quill to be an old jig – stomping their feet while spinning around in frantic circles. When they sang in unison, their voices rang across the bar in a deep, melancholy baritone.
♪♪ Away, away,
And over the sea,
Away, away,
She said she loved me,
Away, away,
And over the sea,
That girl, who stole my heart from me. . ♪♪
Quill watched Lhan do the little jig like an expert, his feet shuffling across the wooden floor at a blinding pace. She wondered if he'd been taught the steps by his father.
Quill didn't have a clue as to how to do the traditional dance so she fumbled through the steps, lip-syncing the feminized women's chorus while spinning in place with a drunken smile.
Lhan danced up closer to her as the verses progressed. When they reached the third verse, they were in each other's arms, twirling around in a spiral.
By that time, Quill could feel her mead. Her body was warm and tingly. She leaned into Lhan's broad, sweaty chest and craned her neck. She then ran her lips up his chin until he grabbed her head with both hands and kissed her.
Quill savored her first kiss with Lhan. She felt turned on by the protective, safe feeling of being wrapped up in his arms. She couldn't imagine why she'd never wanted to kiss him before.
***
Petal plodded her way up the hills that towered over Skrae. The sky above her was a deep, brooding gray. The sun would set soon. She looked down at the seaside village. Skrae was dotted with flags, fires, and the tiny dots of celebrating men and women who looked like ants from her altitude. She scowled at the revelers below, glad to be alone and away from the raucous celebration.
"You er that girl right?" A deep voice boomed from the grass.
Petal almost screamed, caught completely off guard by the voice. She collected herself and peered out into the meadow grass. It billowed in the wind, flapping in several waves down the hillside.
A man was lying on the hill, flat on his back, just a few feet from her. He was wearing a red and gold tunic, barely visible between the tall grass blades.
Petal realized he was the man who'd given Quill the meat skewer.
"What did you say?"
"Who er you?" The man pointed at Petal but didn't attempt to get up. His eyes seemed to roll around randomly.
"I'm Petal."
"No, no." The man exaggeratedly shook his head. "I know that - but what are you?"
"Welcome all of you to the Isle of Mann. We're honored to have you as visitors."
"Very pleased to meet you."
Quill waved Petal and Lhan over to Atalai and the intimidating stranger.
"I'm Mamnon," the stranger began. "Chieftain of this village - Oask. Atalai says you've come to speak with our Kudu guest - Wyman."
"Yes," Quill chimed. "Where can we find him?"
"Wyman is a closely guarded treasure here. Very few outsiders may see him."
"I understand-"
"Khan Rho has been a brother to us. We could not ask for a more pious or benevolent protector. But - while Petal may be his daughter, we are hesitant to let her - or you - see Wyman. He faces many dangers from the outside world, and you have both come here as outsiders."
"Okay. Then what can we do?"
"What do you want from Wyman?"
Quill considered her answer, wondering if Atalai had already told Mamnon their reasons.
"Petal's sister was taken by an S.S.S. ship called the Kowaka Adon. We were told the S.S.S. is looking for us. We want to know why and where they might have taken her."
"How unfortunate." Mamnon lowered his gaze to Petal. "But what could Wyman tell you? He hasn't been in Kudu for many years. His information would be dated."
"We don't know." Quill spoke for her. "But he's the only person on the sea who would know anything about the S.S.S. He has to know something. We came all this way-"
"Why don't you just let us ask him what he knows?" Petal sniffed. "If he doesn't know about the ship why does it matter?"
Atalai smiled. "You are still much like your father."
Petal's cheeks turned pink. She glared at Atalai as if he'd smacked her.
Mamnon ignored her, focusing on Quill instead.
"No outsiders may see Wyman without the Seer's permission. She has authority over all our guests. Khan Rho already told her why you came to Mann. She's offered to meet you tomorrow morning - after tonight's festival in Skrae. I will take you to her."
"The Seer?" Lhan's eyes lit up. "We're going to meet Mann's high priestess?"
"The Seer guards Wyman on this Isle. Her gift of prophesy has prevented him from being murdered by one of Kudu's many spies." Mamnon locked eyes with Quill, emphasizing the word. "She's asked to meet the women and the women only. They may see her tomorrow. After tonight's Jurga."
"A Jurga?" Lhan could hardly contain himself. "Tonight? We'll get to see one?"
"It is not a true Jurga. It's only for one night. But since Khan Rho, Khan Swei, and Khan Malakai have graced our shores to help reequip Yong's Fleet for our use, the people of Mann will hold a celebration in their honor."
Lhan was stunned at his good luck. He couldn't wait to see one of the Isle's world famous festivals.
"Who's the Seer?" Quill bit the inside of her cheek, embarrassed she had to ask.
"The Seer knows all. The past, the present, and the future. Many men have waited decades to speak with her. Some have died while still waiting for her wisdom. Yet she is allowing you to visit her in less than a day. You should feel honored."
- 42-
Quill fiddled with her new clothes. She, Petal, and Lhan had followed the cobblestone path back to the town of Skrae, where Styvers's boat was harbored. By the time they got there, the little seaside village had been converted into a sprawling camp for nomads and fishermen. Mann natives were also out in the streets. They'd just begun preparations for the night's festival.
The Isle's natives seemed to be open and friendly people. They'd opened up their homes and private fields to the influx of new arrivals. They'd even gone as far as handing out free attire for the night's celebration.
Quill and Petal had both been handed celebratory clothes by a doting, old woman on their way back from Oask. The goat herder had invited the girls back to her barn on the surrounding hills, so they would have a private place to change and preen themselves for the coming Jurga.
Quill stared at her reflection in a little puddle of water that had pooled on the barn's dirt floor. The clothes she'd been given resembled a toga – a long, one piece, white tunic that hung off her left shoulder. She felt fresh and clean in her new clothes, finally free of the raggedy old shirt and tattered jeans she'd festered in, on and off, since leaving the Raft. She traced the contours of her new garment, and her eyes came to rest on her feet. The old goat herder had even given her a new pair of strappy leather sandals.
With the exception of Tinian, Quill hadn't worn a new pair of shoes in over six months. That had been sheer torture as she had always loved shoes. Back in Kudu, she had an entire closet full of them in all kinds of cute designs and playful colors. But while she languished out at sea, she'd found shoes to be a rare commodity. Anytime she'd looked for them, they'd either been inordinately expensive or incredibly mannish and ugly.
Quill posed for herself next to the muddy puddle, turning her heels and arching her back like a Khai Shen billboard model.
A sharp creaking noise made her look up. Her face turned pink when she saw Petal climbing down from the barn's upper level.
"Oh my God." She put her hands over her mouth.
Petal's face was as flush as Quill's. She was mortified.
Petal had taken a brief swim in the sea before coming back with Quill to change. Now, for the first time since she and Quill met, she was clean and properly groomed. In her bright, bleached tunic she looked liked a pixie. Her hair was a wavy, vibrant fireball.
Quill had never seen her look so feminine or more adorable.
"You look so fucking cute I could eat you." She rushed over to Petal, hugging her.
Petal stayed limp with her arms dangling at her sides.
"I'm cold in this," she whined. The bottom of the tunic hung just below her ankles. "And whenever I try to walk I keep tripping."
"You just need to take smaller steps - like a lady. You'll get used to it."
Petal's ears perked up; she heard faint signing.
A soft chorus was echoing up the lush hills from the town of Skrae, below. Its melody pleasing and haunting.
"Sounds like the party's started. Let's go." Quill grabbed Petal's hand and dragged her outside, toward the festival.
The girls took the cobblestone path down from the barn, meandering their way into Skrae. All along the path hung decorative flags dyed the colors of the different nomadic hordes. A few of the flags were dyed blue and gray for Rho and the Sand Tigers. The others were a smattering of orange, red, and an odd brownish-green color. Between the forest of flags were dozens of roaring bonfires.
The air over Skrae smelled like roasting meat and sandalwood incense. The sound of singing and the beating of drums mixed with the pungent smells. The haunting, primal atmosphere added to Quill's excitement.
The girls watched as throngs of islanders and nomads staggered by, drunk and giddy. All of them were wearing the same white tunics as they were, although many of them had sashes dyed the different nomad colors.
While some of the revelers were lingering and drinking on the street, a large portion of them were popping in and out of Skrae's main tavern.
Quill stopped next to the tavern's front door, a bit hesitant to go inside. The thunderous music that rumbled the bar's outer wall was overpowering.
While she and Petal dithered on the cobblestone street, a smiling man skipped up to them. He had a gnarled set of teeth and greasy hair. His celebratory tunic was painted bright red and gold, making him look like a clown compared to all the other partiers.
"Greetings Southern Nomads!" he drunkenly shouted. "Which blessed horde do you belong to?"
"The Sand Tigers."
"Our beloved brother Rho!" The man put his hand on his heart. He then shot forward and hugged Quill tightly.
Quill was too surprised to react. She let him squeeze her in a crushing bear hug.
"Here." He released Quill from his iron embrace and waved something that looked like a small sword in front of her face. "Feast on this my lady. In Khan Rho's honor!"
The man tossed a little skewer of meat straight at Quill's chest. She fumbled with the greasy stick, trying to make sure nothing got on her tunic. Oblivious, the man staggered away, disappearing into a mob of revelers without explanation.
"What is this?"
Quill squinted at the little meat skewer, holding it with her fingertips. She took a bite of the glistening meat.
The oily chicken was heavenly.
"Mmmmm. This is really good. Want some?" She passed the skewer to Petal.
Petal devoured the meat. Quill used the free moment to take in Skrae. Just as in Oask, at the center of Skrae was a large fire pit. A mob of people were dancing around the fire in a circle while singing at the top of their lungs. All around the dancers were crowds of nomads and islanders. Those spectators were eating and drinking out on the street and in the open patches of grass that dotted the village.
A thick cloud of smoke billowed up and around the dancers from the fire pit. Its white haze slowly drifted out, over the ocean.
"What are you going to do?" Petal nudged Quill, reluctant to come any closer to the crowd.
"I'm going to party." Quill motioned to the tavern. She could see a line of men and women dancing inside through an open window. "Come on. Let's dance and have some fun. I think we've earned it."
"I don't dance," Petal mumbled.
"Oh, come on." Quill grabbed her hand and yanked her forward. "Don't be scared to dance – it's easy. Follow my lead. I'll teach you."
"No." Petal pulled away. "I don't want to. I don't want to go in there. It's too noisy. I don't like crowds."
Quill glared at her. "Are you nervous or just determined not to have any fun while we're together?"
"What's so fun about getting drunk and overeating?"
"For fuck's sake! I have been shot at, starved, and cooped up in a cage. Now it's time for me to have fun! Do you have to ruin that for me?"
"No. Go get drunk and dance. I don't care. I want to see some more cows. I'll meet up with you tomorrow."
"Urgh. Fine." Quill shook off her anger. "But don't go far or I won't be able to find you. And make sure you stay safe. This island is pretty. . .strange. Be careful. "
"I can take care of myself."
"Whatever. I'm going to try and sleep on Styvers's boat tonight. If he still lets me. Come back there when you're tired."
Petal nodded and then shuffled away.
Within seconds she was lost in the boisterous crowd.
Quill walked into the tavern.
Skrae's tavern was a large, open building. It was packed with nomads and other Mann revelers. All along the walls were dozens of wooden stools and rickety chairs. In front of them was the dance floor - a flat expanse of wood and rivets filled with gyrating dancers.
Quill took a step inside the tavern and watched a group of men and women dance across the floor in a tight, whirling circle. They were singing an old sea people chant. The men and women took turns alternating the chorus to the loud beat of drums and the shrill whine of an old fiddle.
Quill fumbled her way through a line of clapping onlookers so she could get a better view. Everyone on the dance floor was dressed in the same style tunic as she was, but some of them had red, green, or blue sashes slung across their chests and shoulders. Many were holding drinks, sneaking shallow sips from their mugs during the breaks before each chorus.
As Quill took in the atmosphere, the song ended in thunderous applause. The circle of dancers broke up with a brief bow, dispersing into the crowd. The pair of men on drums who were huddled toward the back of the bar switched to a new, more somber tune.
During the interlude, everyone in the bar began to converse. Quill scanned the myriad of smiling, drunken faces and recognized someone. He looked like a giant compared to the other partiers.
"Lhan!"
Quill watched his ruddy face poke up above the crowd. His cheeks and forehead looked flush from dancing and alcohol. He clumsily jostled his way over to her.
"Hijah Quill." Lhan looked her up and down, smiling at her new tunic. "You look so pretty in that. Sorry I didn't wait for ya tah change. Got caught up in all of this. It's so wonderful!"
"Yeah." Quill giggled. "Sounds like you've had a few. Everyone here looks pretty smashed. Where can I get some of what you've been having?"
"Here!"
Lhan was holding a large, wooden mug. He thrust it into Quill's breasts, uncoordinated.
Quill snatched the mug and pressed it to her lips. The liquid inside was harsh and syrupy.
"Ew! What is this stuff?" Her whole face puckered. "It's horrible!"
Lhan leaned into her so he was speaking into her ear. His breath was hot and bitterly sweet from the concoction.
"Iz mead. Ferd-meneted honey and cloves. Have a cup er two and you won't taste it henymore."
Quill watched a drunken sweat trickle down his forehead.
"I bet."
She took two big gulps of the mead, emptying the mug. She then put her arms around Lhan's shoulders and began to rock back and forth to the music.
Lhan gave her a big grin. He looked straight into her eyes, blushing.
"Wha - would you like tah dance with me, Quill? I always wanted to dance with you on the Raft when ya'd go to that club. . .dah. . . . dah Atoll. They always played weird music there. I hate techno." He seemed to scoff at the word. "But this here's sup my alley. So, what'd ya say? Will you dance with me?"
"Yeah. I'd love to."
"Hehe." Lhan grabbed her hand with his two giant paws and led her onto the dance floor.
On cue, the band switched tunes. Their pace quickened into a lively sea people melody. Two groups of dancers lined up on either side of the floor – one line of men and one of women. They stood facing each another.
Quill took her place opposite Lhan. The tempo soon picked up to the rapid strumming of a fiddle. She listened to the men opposite her begin their verse, a smile creeping across her face as she felt the alcohol start to course through her system.
The line of men clapped their hands as they danced what appeared to Quill to be an old jig – stomping their feet while spinning around in frantic circles. When they sang in unison, their voices rang across the bar in a deep, melancholy baritone.
♪♪ Away, away,
And over the sea,
Away, away,
She said she loved me,
Away, away,
And over the sea,
That girl, who stole my heart from me. . ♪♪
Quill watched Lhan do the little jig like an expert, his feet shuffling across the wooden floor at a blinding pace. She wondered if he'd been taught the steps by his father.
Quill didn't have a clue as to how to do the traditional dance so she fumbled through the steps, lip-syncing the feminized women's chorus while spinning in place with a drunken smile.
Lhan danced up closer to her as the verses progressed. When they reached the third verse, they were in each other's arms, twirling around in a spiral.
By that time, Quill could feel her mead. Her body was warm and tingly. She leaned into Lhan's broad, sweaty chest and craned her neck. She then ran her lips up his chin until he grabbed her head with both hands and kissed her.
Quill savored her first kiss with Lhan. She felt turned on by the protective, safe feeling of being wrapped up in his arms. She couldn't imagine why she'd never wanted to kiss him before.
***
Petal plodded her way up the hills that towered over Skrae. The sky above her was a deep, brooding gray. The sun would set soon. She looked down at the seaside village. Skrae was dotted with flags, fires, and the tiny dots of celebrating men and women who looked like ants from her altitude. She scowled at the revelers below, glad to be alone and away from the raucous celebration.
"You er that girl right?" A deep voice boomed from the grass.
Petal almost screamed, caught completely off guard by the voice. She collected herself and peered out into the meadow grass. It billowed in the wind, flapping in several waves down the hillside.
A man was lying on the hill, flat on his back, just a few feet from her. He was wearing a red and gold tunic, barely visible between the tall grass blades.
Petal realized he was the man who'd given Quill the meat skewer.
"What did you say?"
"Who er you?" The man pointed at Petal but didn't attempt to get up. His eyes seemed to roll around randomly.
"I'm Petal."
"No, no." The man exaggeratedly shook his head. "I know that - but what are you?"
