Inti's Watcher

  Marie knocked on Windward’s door. Nali opened it, smiled, then jumped back as Marie strode past her. Louis was at the table, playing a game with Asani.

  Marie walked over, grabbed Louis by the collar, and dragged him to his room. She barely heard his questions and complaints over the sound of her breathing. When the door closed behind them she let go, but didn’t trust herself to speak.

  Louis adjusted his shirt, walking to face her. “I see I’ve done something to upset you,” he said, smiling apologetically.

  Marie took a deep breath, and punched him in the jaw. She grabbed his shirt as he fell, spinning to slam him against the wall. Words didn’t come, so she just… screamed.

  He put his hands on her wrists, pushing her off. “What did I do?” he demanded.

  “You knew where I was!” she yelled. “You let me think you were dead for years, and you could have let me know! You knew what ports I frequented, you knew where I stayed, when I was imprisoned, you could have let me see you!”

  The smile was gone. “I thought you wouldn’t want to see me.”

  “Wouldn’t want-” She stopped, turning around so he couldn’t see her face.

  “You made it very clear you didn’t want me anywhere near you,” he said, a thousand emotions in his voice.

  Marie refused to acknowledge the tears running down her face. “At first. I went back, but you weren't there. I’d made up my mind to find you when we heard your ship had been sunk. With you on it. That broke me. Again. And you could have let me know you were alive.”

  He was silent for a few seconds. When he spoke, his voice was low and serious. “At least you didn’t think I hated you so much I had to run away.”

  “I never hated you,” she told him. “Louis, I was desperate, I was hurting. My child died, I had to go.”

  “No. Marie. We lost our son.” He moved to face her. “And then you left. You would have vanished without a trace if I hadn’t seen you at the docks. I wanted to speak to you again. But we both knew I was the one who dragged you into a normal life, and I was happier than you until it all went to hell. All my fault. All my doing.”

  “So you chose to watch me from here? You’ve watched my life from a safe distance all these years?”

  “I tortured myself by watching you.”

  Marie closed her eyes, turning away again. “You could have told me you were alive.”

  He was, again, silent for a few seconds. “You could have told me you loved me.”

  That got her to look at him. “I’m sorry.”

  He gave a bitter laugh, stepping back. “You still can’t say it, can you?”

  She sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on her knees and head in her hands. She said nothing.

  After a moment Louis sat down next to her, close but not touching. “That’s all I wanted.”

  “Liar.”

  “Coward.”

  Marie sighed, leaning against him. “You’re still the only man left alive who’s seen me cry. If that means anything to you.”

  He pulled her closer. “It does. But it was never enough.”

  She took a deep breath, wiping her face. “I’m sorry.”

  “As am I, my love,” he sighed.

  Sophie watched Marie walk into their area. The older woman had been mostly silent all day. After their five hours of walking, during which she hadn't said a word, Marie had gone to speak to Ebba. Given the look on her face, she probably hadn't helped much.

  Sophie started to get up, but Peter caught her hand.

  “Don't,” he warned.

  “Why not? If it were us Marie would ask what was wrong,” she said in a whisper.

  “Marie would ask because she cares,” Peter whispered back. “Not because she’s curious.”

  Marie stopped at her door, then turned to look at them. “I care because people who are sad and distracted don’t work well,” she told them. “It’s in my best interest to have my crew happy.”

  Peter looked disappointed, but Sophie smiled.

  “Would you like to talk to us about your problems?” she asked sweetly.

  Marie walked over. She looked tired. “Louis and I were technically married before he died. I thought he hadn't contacted me because he had no way of finding me. As it turns out, he’s always known where I was. That upset me. I am… still upset.”

  “He never wrote to you on purpose?” Sophie asked. “He didn't even want to send you a lie about where he was? Bastard.”

  “Thank you,” Marie agreed. She looked away. “Although I admit figuring out how to explain the situation would have been nearly impossible.”

  “Wait,” Peter said, frowning. “Technically married?”

  Marie smiled faintly. “If a man and a woman of approximately the same age arrive in a town where no one knows them and say they’re married, everyone immediately accepts it as the truth.”

  “Really?” Sophie asked. She looked thoughtfully at Peter.

  Peter didn't notice. “Was that something you did multiple times?” he asked Marie.

  “No,” she answered, turning away. “Only with Louis.” She walked to her room.

  Sophie knew she wasn't very attuned to emotions. Most humans seemed to have a secret code to convey them, and she’d never received the manual. Instead she’d received the manual to understand how locks worked.

  But this time she knew for certain that Marie needed a shoulder to cry on.

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  She excused herself and went to her room, leaving Peter on the couch. After a moment of hesitation, Sophie picked up her chain spear and adjusted it to bend at a 90-degree angle halfway down. Then she straightened it and went into the bathroom.

  She walked straight to Marie’s door, pushed the spear through, bent it, and spun the handle.

  The door, sensing motion on the other side, opened.

  Marie was sitting on her sea chest, arms crossed as she glared at Sophie. “So that’s why you got that thing,” she said, her voice raspy.

  “Yes,” Sophie said happily, hooking it onto her belt. “I can get just about anywhere in the whole ship.”

  “Wonderful. Now go away.”

  “No.”

  Marie’s damp eyes narrowed. “Girl…”

  “No,” Sophie repeated, walking up to her. “Growing up, no one showed affection for me. So I don't precisely know how to show it, but I'm doing my best. You are upset. I will stay here until you feel… not upset.”

  Marie sighed, looking down. “Girl, girl…”

  Sophie reached out to give her a hug, then changed to give her an awkward pat on the shoulder. “You- Everything will be fine.”

  “Of course it will be,” Marie said, her arms dropping to her side. “Only it could have been fine years ago. There were so many times-” She paused to wipe a tear off her face. “Can't change the past. There’s no use thinking of how different-” She shuddered, almost falling off the curved top of the chest.

  Sophie steadied her, alarmed.

  “If I’d only given up sooner, if I’d known- And he just watched without bothering to tell me-” Marie covered her face with her hands, screaming into her palms. “I fought too hard, I've always fought too hard.”

  “It’s good to fight. To not give up.”

  Marie turned to her, grabbing her arm. “No. Sophie. An easy loss is better than a hard win. You can't always win. If you’re in a hopeless battle, at least lose as quickly as possible. Spreading the pain out for days will damage your soul. And you can't always mend what’s broken.”

  Sophie blinked, even more alarmed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I'm… broken,” Marie said, her eyes unfocused. “I've broken so many times. He could have helped, he could have been there, but he just watched-” She drew in a shaking breath. “-thinking I didn't want his help.”

  Marie slid down, breathing in ragged gasps as tears fell from her eyes. Sophie hugged her, hoping that not saying anything was the right thing to do.

  Razan slowly poured tea in the sparring room, glad to be around people who were normal and weren't experiencing strong emotions.

  His cup filled and he took a sip, closing his eyes to enjoy the flavor of proper green tea. There was green tea available in his group’s area, true, but it wasn't the same. There was something off about it.

  It was probably Chinese. This tea was brought directly from Kagoshima by Ariharu.

  The door to the fencing room slid open, and a man carrying a two-handed sword walked in. Razan recognized him as the idiot he and Sophie had taken shells from on the reef.

  He turned to the group of samurai and bowed. “Hello. Would any of you care to spar?”

  After exchanging looks with the others, Razan got to his feet.

  “I don't believe we’ve formally met,” the man said, eyeing Razan. “I am Till, from the Moss group.”

  Razan bowed before unsheathing his katana. “I am Razan, from the Drifters.” He looked Till’s green clothes over and asked, “Is one of your group members a bald woman who fights with a spear?”

  “Yes,” Till answered. “That would be Nsona.”

  Razan smiled. “Let’s see if you fight any better than her.”

  The man paused, then glared. He lifted his oversized sword, ready to begin.

  “Miss Keiko, would you do us the honor of arbitrating?” Razan asked, looking over.

  Keiko bowed, not getting up. “Three clean strikes for a win. The fight will begin in three… two… one.”

  Till rushed forward, swinging his sword in an extremely telegraphed strike. Razan stepped aside, taking a sip of his tea. Till spun, swinging up, and Razan easily blocked the large sword with the spine of his katana. He stepped out of range as Till growled, pulling back before darting forwards.

  Razan side-stepped the thrust, lifting his blade again to block a wobbling swipe. He took another sip of tea.

  “Take this seriously!” Till demanded, the tip of his sword drooping.

  “I am,” Razan said. “Good tea should not be wasted by drinking it too quickly or by letting it go cold. Also that sword is obviously far too heavy for you; you have no fine control.”

  “Heavy swords do more damage,” Till said, lifting the thing over his shoulder.

  Razan slipped around and sliced open the man’s thigh before lightly dancing back. “To do ‘more’ damage you need to be able to do any damage.”

  “Clean strike,” Keiko announced as Till twitched in pain.

  Razan took another sip of tea, dodging a swing a blind man could have seen coming. “How long have you owned that hunk of metal, two weeks?”

  Till growled again, rushing him. And rushing past him.

  “In the German’s defense,” Iesue said, “he’s a very good shot. He makes his own exploding ammunition that’s taken everyone here out of a fight.”

  Till paused by a wall, panting. “Thank you.”

  Razan finished off his tea. “So why are you using that thing?”

  “Group leader doesn't like us to be specialized,” Till said. “He said I have to practice with a sword.”

  “With that sword specifically?”

  “No, I just… got the biggest one available…”

  Razan nodded, keeping his face neutral as he handed Ariharu his cup. “Sophie was right then. You are compensating.”

  The grinding of Till’s teeth echoed through the room. He sprinted towards Razan, holding his sword like a club. Razan sighed, moving easily out of the way of a slash before cutting him across the shoulder. Till cursed, spinning around, and Razan sliced open his wrist.

  “Three cuts, Razan wins,” Keiko announced.

  Till dropped his sword, clutching his wrist. A hawk appeared, asking if he needed immediate medical assistance.

  “No, I'll go myself,” Till growled, glaring at Razan.

  Razan bowed. “I’d say this was a good fight, but… Replace that sword with something one-handed and rounded. You move wrong for that type of blade.”

  “Thank you for the advice,” the man said, lifting his weapon before stomping away.

  “He won’t listen,” Ariharu said after a few seconds. “We’ve all defeated him, and he keeps insisting he just needs more practice.”

  “Practice would help,” Keiko said. “But a smaller sword would help more.”

  Razan frowned, cleaning his blade. “Is there any benefit to helping other groups?”

  “You mean offering him a better sword?” Ujinao asked.

  “Or a completely different weapon,” Razan said.

  Iesue shook his head. “No. Let each group find their own ways of fighting. If they fight poorly, other groups benefit.”

  “I say there’s a benefit. After all, we help each other,” Keiko pointed out.

  “Of course we help each other. We’re Japanese.”

  Ariharu and Ujinao nodded at this. Razan smiled, settling down to pour himself another cup of tea.

  Peter watched Sophie pack for the contest. She’d be leaving in two hours, just after lunch.

  It felt strange to not be preparing as well. Razan and Sophie had spent a good portion of the week figuring out how to get through the maze. Marie hadn't been available since Tuesday, so most of the planning had been left to Sophie and Razan.

  Peter was almost jealous of the time they’d spent together. He would have said something if it weren't for Sophie consistently leaving Razan behind to pull Peter into bed.

  “Done!” she announced, shouldering her bag. “I still think you could change your mind and come with us.”

  Peter shook his head. “No, I'll just watch from here. You have fun, though.”

  “Fine,” she sighed, then smiled. “I'll bring you back a souvenir.”

  “You mean a rock?”

  “Precisely!”

  He laughed softly. “Will you be bringing the rock back for me, or for your own collection?”

  “I shall bring multiple rocks, and allow you to choose which you like best,” she decided.

  “How generous.”

  “I wouldn't do that for just anyone, mind,” she said primly. “Only special people can choose which rock I give them.”

  Peter got up and kissed her. “You are such a magpie, and I love it.”

  Sophie hesitated, her hands on his shoulders. “I don’t… Don't call me that.”

  “Why not?” he asked, wondering what he’d done wrong.

  “It’s what my sisters called me, when they…” She didn’t finish.

  He frowned. “You have sisters?” He’d only heard her mention a brother.

  “Yes,” she said cautiously.

  “Someday you’ll have to tell me about them,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “You should wear your hair in a braid again, like you did in the water.”

  She smiled again, turning. “Gladly, if you braid it for me.”

  “Of course.”