Inkblots: A Tale of Magic, Adventure, and Romance

XXXVIII. Sparks

Alia waited and waited for the captain to return, but eventually a growing discomfort in her bladder made the decision for her. She was going to have to go back out on deck.

Her first few experimental steps didn't go wall. She staggered straight into the edge of the bed frame and then, once back up, into the door. The movement hadn't seemed so bad when she was curled into the captain's chair, but now it made walking nearly impossible. Gritting her teeth, she clung to the door as it opened and took a few slow, careful steps outside.

The harbor was gone. There was nothing but a green and brown smudge of land to the east and gray-blue sea all around them. Alia tried not to panic at the sight, but the ship, so large and imposing at first, suddenly seemed dangerously tiny.

"What are you doing up here?" a familiar voice called. When she looked over, Kit was standing just outside the lower deck's door. He didn't seem unfriendly, and unfortunately he was her best source of information about the ship, so Alia reluctantly made her way down to him.

"I was just wondering," she said awkwardly, "where you go to, um, do your business on the ship."

Kit laughed and she shifted uneasily, not knowing what the joke was. "You have two options," he said, letting a hand rest on her shoulder. She stiffened, torn between leaning in and pulling away. "The first is the heads, up in the bow. The other is a bucket that you empty over the side. But I'd much rather you use the heads, for the sake of our sleeping place."

"Where are they?" she asked, confused.

"The bow," he said, "the point of the ship." He gestured all the way across the ship, where at the other end it narrowed to a point that pierced the ocean spray. "I'll take you."

He took off at a fast pace that she couldn't manage, still trying to handle the movement of the walking surface. Thankfully, Kit noticed before he had gotten too far, and though he rolled his eyes, he slowed down to match her speed. They made their way down, across the middle section and past the hatch that led below, and then around another low sort of room. That was where Kit stopped—standing single file on a small strip of open deck that barely left room for another person to squeeze between them and the railing.

Alia closed her eyes, leaned against the wall, and focused on breathing properly. It felt as though the next wave's motion would hurl her tiny body over the edge and into the abyss.

"Lady needs to use the heads!" yelled Kit, snapping her eyes back open. "Anyone up there?"

"She better wait a bit then, 'less she wants an eyeful!" someone called back.

Belatedly, it occurred to Alia that she was probably the only woman on board. She looked back at the rest of the ship, seeing only male figures, and blinked in surprise. It seemed she was destined to be constantly going where women weren't wanted.

Then the sailor who had spoken earlier came past, still chuckling at his joke, and ducked his head at them.

"There you go," Kit said, gesturing forward.

Cautiously, Alia edged around the corner to the front of the ship. It was very narrow up here—no more than three strides from railing to railing—and taut ropes criss-crossed the air. She peered around, but there were no doors. "Kit?" she called over her shoulder. "Where do I go?" She clutched at her arms, feeling the damp bite of the spray and wind.

He appeared around the corner, looking excessively amused. "Right there," he said, pointing next to the railing.

Alia peered over, seeing only a wooden, rectangular frame. It surrounded a hole that was cut into the ship's deck, and she was fairly certain that if she looked through it she'd see only water below. A distinctive smell gusted up from it. "Oh no," she said suddenly. "No. No, no, no." Her feet tangled up as she backed away quickly.