Waterborne (Wanderlust 3)

Chapter Forty-Two

It was difficult to watch the coast of Alvara, and then Cray Shia go by, day after day, and not think about their initial trip South. Every time they passed a village they had stopped at for supplies, or a particularly interesting landmark, Soren remembered what Tanden had done or said the first time.

When they were still a few days away from Crayse, they sailed past the cove where he and Roan had investigated the ship wreck. The watertight sea chest he had found there, now stuffed with the Wanderlust's maps and Tanden's family letters, sat on a table in the Captain's Quarters. Late at night, Soren often sat with the papers laid out on the desk. The letters from Tanden's family didn't mean much to him, but he folded them neatly and carefully stowed them away in the chest. It was the maps Soren liked looking at. Bits of Tanden's handwriting, marking cities or towns he thought were important enough to include. Marking every little adventure.

The cove brought another memory to the forefront. It was there, anchored off the coast for the night, where Tanden had broken down. The moment had gained new significance with Tanden gone. One of the rare moments when Tanden's careful act fell apart, and Soren had been the one to see it. The trust that Tanden had given him in that moment was hard to wrap his head around. Soren only hoped he had deserved it. Tanden had never really recovered, even on that last night together, Tanden hadn't been quite himself.

In moments of weakness, it wasn't hard to blame himself. Maybe if he had supported Tanden better, Tanden would have been more himself, more able to handle Toliver's attack differently. In moments of clarity, Soren knew that was nonsense.

In moments of even more clarity, Soren knew worrying about it was pointless. He couldn't help Tanden anymore. The best he could do was continue leading the crew North to find Toliver.

***

They sailed past Crayse without any sign of Rico's ship.

Every few days, when they could, they stopped at towns and tried to ask for any information about pirate activity. They flagged other ships and asked if there were any warnings about the waters ahead. But Rico didn't seem to be active. They passed the border between Cray Shia and Staedin without much information to go on.

But Soren wasn't worried. There was only so far North Rico and Toliver could travel. And while it was possible that the pirates could travel West, further out into the ocean, and then head back South in order to miss them entirely, it was unlikely. It was safer to keep the coastline in sight. The pirates didn't know they were being chased, so there was no reason to be evasive.

Every day, the crew's eagerness only grew. The day Jerios spotted a column of smoke in the distance, the crew was almost immediately ready to jump into action. Soren was more cautious. He had Kija signal Elorie's ship, and together they continued up the coast.

What they found was devestating. A merchant ship, caught on the shallows beside one of Staedin's towering rock formations. Her stern was deep in the water, her bow sticking up on the rocks. Her sails were burned away, her masts charred and broken. Parts of her hull still glowed with embers.

Soren tried not to picture the Wanderlust as he held a spyglass up to his eye. "There might be survivors."

"She looks Navirian," Roan, standing beside him, said.

Soren lowered the spyglass with a nod. "Aye. Find Kurias and get the Waterborne ready for me."

The pause that followed was a heartbeat too long. Soren looked at his friend. "What?"

Roan crossed his arms. "Nearly burned t' death, mate. Sure you want to get near that poor lass? No one would think any less o' you if you sent me, instead."