The boy did not seem to hear; the girl pouted. “A great sorcerer can look like a jotunn if he wants to!”
“That’s true,” Efflio agreed. “But a jotunn who claims to be a pixie in disguise is definitely not to be trusted! Are you quite sure he is Warlock Thraine, your Majesty?”
The girl flushed and dropped her eyes. “It was a game, but you needn’t make fun of me!”
“You mean that boat isn’t really the famous Ark Noble and that isn’t Warth Redoubt I see ahead of me?”
The onlookers guffawed. The castle ahead was Krasnegar, and the name scrawled in red lead on the dory’s bow was STROMDANSR.
“Of course not!” The girl had turned even redder. “Warth Redoubt was much bigger!”
“How many head?” asked the boy, sniffing the air. ”Twelve,” Efflio said. “Your names? Real names?”
“I am Princess Kadie of Krasnegar. He’s Gath, my brother.” About to lose his temper, Efflio caught the mate’s eye, which was twinkling like a beacon.
“You should’ov piped them aboard, Skipper!”
“Or else I should throw them back!”
The girl tossed her head again. Oh, she was a vixen, that one! And she was obviously the brains of the pair. The boy was being very quiet, gazing blankly at the rigging, but he did not seem scared. He was probably just dull-witted, for her make-believe had left him doing all the rowing. Once she had perfected her techniques on her dumb brother, the minx would have males dancing to her tune for the rest of her life.
The boy completed his study of the lines and turned his steady stare on the captain. “How close to the wind will she sail?” he asked, and waited solemnly for an answer.
Efflio told him, taking a harder look. There was a surprising brightness in those big gray eyes—odd-colored eyes for a jotunn, quite a dark gray. When jotnar had gray eyes, they were a pale, foggy shade. And the kid’s hair stuck up in golden spikes all over his head, which wasn’t usual, either. So he was not purebred jotunn, and the girl’s claim that he was her brother might be believable. Mixed bloods tended to favor one parent over the other. She might have meant “half brother” anyway.
She had breathtaking green eyes. How could Efflio have missed those? He had never seen such green eyes before in his life. So she was not pure imp, and she might well have jotunn blood in her, because her ridiculously inappropriate dress was a skimpy thing that left her arms and shoulders bare, yet she seemed unaware of the spray and the whistling wind. Efflio himself was swathed like a bear, and the gnomes had been huddled under blankets in the galley for days. The boy had bare arms and bare legs. He obviously felt the cold no more than did Krushbark, whose shirt was open to the waist.
Who were these two orphans of the sea? Again the captain felt uncomfortable prickles of superstition. If those were real emeralds in the crown-thing on her head, then he ought to throw the livestock overboard and head back to the Impire at once. He could live out his days in luxury on what he would get for that. He could buy off the crew with one pearl apiece from the necklace and send the kids home somehow.
But if there were occult forces at work, then the children might be something much closer to the mythical Allena and Thraine than they looked. And as for her being a princess—and the boy presumably a prince . . . well, who could say what was possible in this forgotten, eldritch outpost?
Then he felt a sudden shift in the motion of the ship as Sea Beauty entered the bay. The far end was closed by a splatter of small islands, forming one of the finest harbors Efflio had ever seen—certainly the finest he had ever forgotten. The great rock stood high on one side, its nearer face plastered with town. The landward shore bore only a few cottages and haystacks.
So it was too late to take the treasure and throw the horses overboard, even if he ever would have done such a thing. He shouted to the mate to shorten sail and laid course for the quay.
4
Sorcery or not, Krasnegar made a good first impression. It had a prosperous, contented air about it that Efflio could not quite identify. There were no trading vessels moored at the docks, only fishing smacks and a couple of small whalers. Lobster pots in stacks, nets drying over racks, blubber being rendered in cauldrons over fires . . . Women sat in rows and gossiped as they mended nets, while others cleaned fish and tossed a steady rain of them into the salt barrels. Men similarly wrangled while repairing oars and harpoons. It all seemed very healthy and normal.
It reminded him somehow of Impport, on Krul’s Bay, where he had grown up, although Impport was much flatter. He had a daughter in Impport. He probably had a daughter in Impport. He hadn’t been back there in twenty years.
He would never want to live in a town built on such a slope—not with his chest—but he could see little wrong with the place otherwise. He was beginning to remember it now. It had a wellorganized, impish feel to it, and yet the people held their heads high and did not peer over their shoulders before they spoke. That might be the jotunn influence. Most of the people he could see at the moment were blond, but of course jotnar would gravitate to the docks, and the imps to the landlubber businesses within the town.
Krushbark hailed a man ashore, who shouted willingness; a line curled through the air. The man caught it expertly, looped it around a bollard, and threw it back. Then he went to the next bollard and the process was repeated. Hands began hauling the cable, as the helper waved cheerfully and went on about his business. In impish ports, he’d have demanded money for that trifling assistance. Sea Beauty nudged the dock, then nestled coyly in against it.
Without even waiting for the plank to be run out, a man vaulted over the side and came striding aft with the air of a predator thirsty for blood. Efflio took a step nearer the pin rack; Krushbark dropped the rope he had been coiling and moved quickly to the captain’s side. But it was not the captain the newcomer was after—he came to a halt in front of the children. He put his fists on his hips and glared down at them.
The boy smiled shyly. The girl raised her chin and tried to project poise.
For a moment there was silence. Efflio wondered what other misfits he would find in Krasnegar—this man looked for all the world like a faun, but fauns rarely roamed far from the jungles of Sysanasso, far away in the Summer Seas. He was also much larger than any faun Efflio had ever seen, larger than most imps, even. Nevertheless, his face was a deep-tanned faun shade, his hair a brown tangle, and his nose looked as if it had been stepped on in his childhood. Faun.
His jaw was too big, though, especially now, being stuck out like that. Part jotunn, maybe?
Fauns were very good with animals. If he is a faun, Efflio thought, then one gets you twenty he’s a stockman, and he’s come to get those stinking brutes out of my hold. The newcomer wore ragged work clothes—and yes, his boots had been through a stable recently.
But that raised the problem of how this exiled faun could have known Sea Beauty was bringing the livestock. Again the uncanny tingled the captain’s scalp. Much more of this and he would start jumping at shadows . . .
He had seen the dory on deck, and the children, of course. “Hello, Papa, ” the girl said.
“And just what do you think you are doing with those?” the newcomer demanded.
“Which those, Papa?” the girl inquired sweetly. “You know which those, and don’t call me that!”
“But it’s much more ladylike than `Daddy’ or `Pop’ or—” The hostler growled dangerously. “What are you doing with your mother’s jewelry?”
Efflio relaxed—he had still been secretly wondering if he had missed a good bet for instant wealth, but if the jewelry belonged to the wife of a man who wore such despicable stable rags, then they were certainly not real emeralds and pearls. Even fakes of such good quality would be worth a fair amount, though.
The girl was trying to seem unruffled. “She lets me borrow them when I dress up. I was being Allena the Fair, and Gath—”
“She never said you could wear them out in the town!” her father roared. “Or in a boat!”
“She never said I couldn’t!” the girl protested, but she was starting to wilt before his anger.