The Magician Of Vennat

Chapter 8

Once they got out into the deep ocean, the waves got rough. Alabaster leaned against the railing and felt sick. The water below writhing like it was a boiling. He thought about throwing noodles into it, but instead of making him feel better, the thought only made him feel nauseous. He headed below deck, seeking refuge from the rocking and the wild spray.

It was warmer below with the body heat and lack of whipping wind. The crew talked in loud, raucous tones, pounding on the sides of the ship with their fists whenever someone made a funny remark. Their laughter grated on Alabaster's ears.

He found a relatively quiet spot in what he figured was the dining room. A few roughly hewn wooden benches were parked beside some time worn tables. He sat down and waited. The voyage would take about a day probably. One day out of three. And then one to get back. His stomach clenched. His time was running out fast.

He pulled out a piece of rope from his pocket. He looked around. No one was there. Cautiously, he grabbed some ink and spread it up his arm, reaching around to touch his back. He didn't have tea, but it would have to do. He brought the piece of rope to his mouth and whispered.

"Whoever wears this around their wrist will not be nauseous."

The drain of power was again more than he'd expected, but it didn't take enough to make him black out. He took a few deep breaths and then sat up straight.

"Hallo!" said a cheerful voice. Alabaster spun around to see a sun-beaten sailor with a earring in one ear. He kind of looked like a pirate.

"Hi," Alabaster mumbled, trying to hide the rope behind his back.

"Haven't got yer sea legs yet, I see," the sailor said.

"I'm just a little queasy," Alabaster replied.

"Ye want me to get some hot water?"

Alabaster sighed. The sailor had noticed.

"Hey," the man said, plopping down on the opposite bench. "No shame in being an enchanter, mate. Exact opposite in fact. Name's Marc, by the way."

"Alabaster," he replied.

"Hot water?" he repeated.

"Sure," Alabaster mumbled.

"Ye didn't make a sea-sickness protector, did ya?"

Alabaster stiffened. How had he known?

"Seen people do it before," Marc said, answering the question that Alabaster hadn't spoken aloud. "It ain't a good idea. You'll never get used to the sea if ye do that, and if it ever gets lost, yer in a real heap of trouble."

"Thanks for the advice," Alabaster said, already deciding that he wasn't going to take it. He felt bad enough that he didn't want to deal with sea-sickness. He didn't care that he'd never get used to it. He didn't plan on sailing again ever.

"So were are ye going?" Marc asked.

"Asko," Alabaster said.

"Ah," the sailor said, "the beautiful city of Asko. Nice there."

Alabaster said nothing, just twisted the rope around in his fingers.

"Got business there?" Marc asked.

"None of your business," Alabaster said a little unkindly.

Marc looked offended. "Hey, mate, I'm only trying to help. I knows my way about there."

Alabaster's thoughts went to the card in his pocket. There was no dress on it, just the name of a city.

"Do you know about Aman?" he asked.

The sailor's eyes widened. "Does anyone not know would be better a better question, mate. Aye, I do. Got a fierce reputation, Aman does."

"Do you know where he's located?" Alabaster asked. "I know the city, but I wasn't given an address."

Marc gave him a peculiar look. "Why would ye be needed Aman's assistance? Haven't got a bounty on ye, have you?"

"Uh, no," Alabaster said. "Why? Does he deal with those often?"

Marc shrugged. "Deals with pretty much everything as far as I know. But ye don't seem like the type to be in a tough scrape. Course, looks can be deceiving."

"Well," Alabaster said, "I'm in a rough one that's for sure, and I could use his address if you know it."

"Can't say that I do," the sailor replied. "I've personally never been. But I'd imagine someone would know."

"Thanks," Alabaster mumbled.

"Hey, cheer up," Marc said as he rose from his seat. "Aman will fix whatever problem you got."

"I hope so," Alabaster said with a sigh.

"Never heard of a failure," Marc said.

That made Alabaster feel a little better. Never heard of a failure. Aman must be really, really good then. He took a deep breath; he was going to be fine.

Marc was talking to the cook about some hot water. Alabaster smiled and tied the rope into a bracelet and slid it up his wrist.