Islands in the Sky

6.3

“The girl is right,” the overseer.

“She may be right,” the captain said.

“She is right that we ought to be cautious.”

“I know,” the captain said. She looked at one of the crew, standing nearby. “You,” she said. “Go up the mast and look. Try to see above the smoke.”

The sailor nodded.

“And take these,” the captain said, and held out a blunt smooth-sided shape, a pair of tubes she wore around her neck. A device of the ancients, Sema knew, from hearing the crew talk, a wonder made long ago, before the rising of the world. A tool called a binoculars, which let one see far away things more clearly.

The sailor took the binoculars and climbed up the mast, and Sema stood where she was, looking upwards, uncertainly. The sailor began to peer towards the island, staring through the binoculars, so Sema turned and looked in that direction too. She stood there, worrying, wondering if she had been completely foolish.

“I see nothing,” the sailor called, from the top of the mast.

Sema sighed. She felt awful. She’d made a mistake, and now all these people would remember if forever.

“You can see clearly?” the captain called.

“Mostly,” the sailor called back. “Not clearly, but well enough.”

“You need to see clearly,” the captain called. “Stay there until you can.”

“I will.”

The captain looked at Sema. “You might be wrong on this particular occasion,” the captain said quietly. “But all the same, you were right to speak.”

Sema didn’t know what that meant. She was still wondering why the captain was willing to listen to her at all.

“You were right to be cautious,” the captain said quietly. “You were right to point it out.”

Sema nodded.

“Quen Tosal warned me to pay heed to you,” the captain said, still quietly. “And it seems that he was right.”

Sema didn’t answer, even though now this made a lot more sense. Of course the captain knew Sema had some kind of arrangement with Quen Tosal, and of course the captain would worry what Sema might say about this later. Sema felt bad, for somehow inadvertently using Quen Tosal’s name to force the captain to listen to her. She felt bad for that, especially when she had been wrong, and then felt even sillier for having made a mistake.

“Can you see clearly yet?” the captain called up to the sailor on the mast.

“Mostly,” the sailor called. “Enough.”

“Is there anything?”

“Not on the island. Not that I can see.”

Sema sighed. She felt stupid. She looked around, miserable. A lot of people were nearby, listening, watching what happened.

Sema had panicked unnecessarily and made a mistake, because of what had happened to her family. She had been mistaken and all these people had seen it happen, and now, she just felt embarrassed. She was embarrassed by all the bystanders, and she suddenly realized that was probably why the captain had mentioned Quen Tosal. It was an excuse, an explanation as to why she was listening to Sema at all.

That made it all worse, somehow. It made Sema feel even more foolish.

Sema went over to the side-rail of the ship, wanting to be alone. She stood there, and looked around, and wondered what to do next.

The ship was sailing sideways to the woodcutters island, now. Sailing along its charred, burned shore. As they sailed, they were moving out of the part of the sky that was directly downwind of the island, and so away from the haze of smoke and ash that was blowing out from it. Now, it was easier to see. Now, Sema could see there was nothing on the island, nothing dangerous at all. Just ash and soot and the spindly spikes of what had been tree-trunks, burned bare of all their branches and leaves.

Sema stood there, looking at the island. Now they were out the wind-blown smoke, it was obvious there was nothing there. There was nowhere to hide, amid the ash and soot. Anyone who moved around would stir up ash and make themselves obvious. There was nothing on the island, and nothing behind it, either. Sema could see right across it in places, between the tree-trunks, and out into the sky on the other side.

She had been wrong. She had made a fuss for nothing. She was annoyed with herself, and embarrassed too.

She stood there, frustrated, wanting to be alone.