was solid and thick and I judged a half dozen Ogres couldn’t have knocked it down, especially after, once we were inside, Darla or I lowered the ornate but decidedly functional bar across the back.
I sat upon our vast expanse of new feather bed and watched as Darla fussed with this or made oohing and ahing noises over that.
The first thing I noticed about being on the Queen was the motion. Or rather, the lack thereof. I’d been expecting to feel some slight pitch and roll because even tied at her private and heavily guarded dock, she was floating on the lazy, muddy waters of the Brown River.
But try as I might, I couldn’t feel even the smallest hint of motion.
“I believe Evis mentioned something about sorcerous motion control,” said Darla, plopping down suddenly beside me.
I hadn’t said a word.
“You were holding your breath.” She lay back, stretching and yawning. “I’m exhausted. Let’s take a nap.”
“You go ahead. I’m not sleepy.”
“Liar.” She sat up and put her chin on her fists. “What are you going to do, sneak around? Evis said he’d be back later to give us the grand tour.”
“A good finder never sneaks, my dear. We amble. We stroll. We peruse, and we do it all out in the open because we have every right to be right wherever we are.”
“So you are going to sneak. I’m coming with you.”
“What about your nap?”
She grinned and rolled off the bed. “Time for that later. I’m learning how to be a finder. I assume you’re going to bathe and shave?”
I kicked off my shoes. “Can’t impress the crew like this.”
“I’ll find something scandalous, then.”
I bathed and shaved and bled from my gut wound until we managed to get a fresh dressing wrapped around it. Even though I had to keep my torso out of the water, the hot bath and the rich man’s soap felt good.
One thing about Darla—she can make herself presentable, as she calls it, in a hurry. I’d managed to put a decent knot in my necktie and find one of my shoes when she emerged from the bedroom, dressed and ready to face the world.
I whistled. She’d opted for a long black dress that covered everything from ankle to throat. It wasn’t tight enough to stop traffic, but it wasn’t so loose you couldn’t tell her gender. She’d buttoned the slit on the side all the way down, but even so I caught a glimpse of silk-covered leg through it when she walked.
A tiny black pillbox hat trimmed with black lace completed the look. She winked at me from beneath the lace and grinned.
“I was aiming for distracting without being obvious,” she said.
I stood there with one shoe on and made noises with my mouth.
“Come on,” she said, laughing. “Let’s go see the things Evis wouldn’t want us to see.”
I finished dressing and we set out to explore.
The first thing I realized was exploring the Queen would require days—not hours—of steadfast, determined poking about.
I’d listened to Evis as he bragged about her, but admittedly I was distracted by more pressing matters involving Lowland Sweet cigars and refills of beer. Darla, on the other hand, could recite the wonders of the Queen with considerable precision.
“She is four hundred and sixteen feet long and ninety-seven feet wide,” said Darla in a near-perfect imitation of Evis. We made our way down the darkened grand staircase that led down to the casino deck. “She has one hundred twenty-one crew, and will carry four hundred twenty-five passengers, including one over-priced finder.”
“Evis should hire you as a purser.”
“He should. What’s a purser? Do they blow the steam whistles?”
“Probably.”
We rounded the gentle sweep of the final curve, and the darkness gave way to the blues and greens and golds of the daylight streaming through the stained-glass windows.
A pair of wary-eyed Avalante day folk hurried toward us. Neither wore a sword, but from the tell-tale bulges beneath their jackets I knew
I sat upon our vast expanse of new feather bed and watched as Darla fussed with this or made oohing and ahing noises over that.
The first thing I noticed about being on the Queen was the motion. Or rather, the lack thereof. I’d been expecting to feel some slight pitch and roll because even tied at her private and heavily guarded dock, she was floating on the lazy, muddy waters of the Brown River.
But try as I might, I couldn’t feel even the smallest hint of motion.
“I believe Evis mentioned something about sorcerous motion control,” said Darla, plopping down suddenly beside me.
I hadn’t said a word.
“You were holding your breath.” She lay back, stretching and yawning. “I’m exhausted. Let’s take a nap.”
“You go ahead. I’m not sleepy.”
“Liar.” She sat up and put her chin on her fists. “What are you going to do, sneak around? Evis said he’d be back later to give us the grand tour.”
“A good finder never sneaks, my dear. We amble. We stroll. We peruse, and we do it all out in the open because we have every right to be right wherever we are.”
“So you are going to sneak. I’m coming with you.”
“What about your nap?”
She grinned and rolled off the bed. “Time for that later. I’m learning how to be a finder. I assume you’re going to bathe and shave?”
I kicked off my shoes. “Can’t impress the crew like this.”
“I’ll find something scandalous, then.”
I bathed and shaved and bled from my gut wound until we managed to get a fresh dressing wrapped around it. Even though I had to keep my torso out of the water, the hot bath and the rich man’s soap felt good.
One thing about Darla—she can make herself presentable, as she calls it, in a hurry. I’d managed to put a decent knot in my necktie and find one of my shoes when she emerged from the bedroom, dressed and ready to face the world.
I whistled. She’d opted for a long black dress that covered everything from ankle to throat. It wasn’t tight enough to stop traffic, but it wasn’t so loose you couldn’t tell her gender. She’d buttoned the slit on the side all the way down, but even so I caught a glimpse of silk-covered leg through it when she walked.
A tiny black pillbox hat trimmed with black lace completed the look. She winked at me from beneath the lace and grinned.
“I was aiming for distracting without being obvious,” she said.
I stood there with one shoe on and made noises with my mouth.
“Come on,” she said, laughing. “Let’s go see the things Evis wouldn’t want us to see.”
I finished dressing and we set out to explore.
The first thing I realized was exploring the Queen would require days—not hours—of steadfast, determined poking about.
I’d listened to Evis as he bragged about her, but admittedly I was distracted by more pressing matters involving Lowland Sweet cigars and refills of beer. Darla, on the other hand, could recite the wonders of the Queen with considerable precision.
“She is four hundred and sixteen feet long and ninety-seven feet wide,” said Darla in a near-perfect imitation of Evis. We made our way down the darkened grand staircase that led down to the casino deck. “She has one hundred twenty-one crew, and will carry four hundred twenty-five passengers, including one over-priced finder.”
“Evis should hire you as a purser.”
“He should. What’s a purser? Do they blow the steam whistles?”
“Probably.”
We rounded the gentle sweep of the final curve, and the darkness gave way to the blues and greens and golds of the daylight streaming through the stained-glass windows.
A pair of wary-eyed Avalante day folk hurried toward us. Neither wore a sword, but from the tell-tale bulges beneath their jackets I knew
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