7 Days in November and Boat Story.

I’ll leave things here for the near future, until I can figure out what to do with this space. I do have three other domains I’m not using…

Thank you for your understanding.

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<3 [g]

I’m working on a pet project right now, so if the blag disappears, that’s why. It should be back by Monday or Tuesday. Also, you can always access the blog via grantcravens.wordpress.com, but I’m pretty sure none of the in-site links would work. I gotta work on that, too.

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Back to Part 011 Notes

This week is more Exposition Island. We meet a few more Molyneux, Toby tries to escape, we get to see Cait’s life about 13 years or so before the present. But what I’m interested in talking about today is the number 23.

I’m sure at this point you’ve noticed 23 come up a couple of times. The first is that Chou’s on his “third cycle.” This means that, turning 46, he enters the third 23-year cycle of his life (Birth to 22 was the first, 23 to 45 is the second). This is an important birthday. He is becoming an entirely new person. All of their 23rd birthdays were treated with such excitement and celebration, and when they reach their fourth cycle, at 69, they’ll get the same treatment. It should be noted that those that reach their fifth cycle, at 92, are revered and known all over the Islands because of their long life and, thus, their wisdom.

But why 23? It’s because of the moon. More specifically, it’s because the moon completes one full cycle around Ta Ante every 23 days. And so the lunar calendar, the calendar of the Islanders, is based off of this 23 day month. The Continentals use the solar calendar, in which a year is 361 days. So Ta Ante orbits the sun every 361 days, but if you do the math, 23 days times 15 months falls short by 16 days, and 23 times sixteen days falls long by 7 days. So the Islanders compensate with long and short years, and 16 and 15 months. I won’t bore you with the order of the long years and short years, but they jump ahead and fall short of the solar year over and over until, 23 years in, they zero out.

23 days in a lunar month. 23 years of long and short corrections. And so the number 23 has become important to the Islanders.

So the short answer is “the moon.” The longer answer would be “tradition.” But, you know, that’s something else entirely.

As always, your questions and comments are totally welcome.

[g]

Back to Part 011 Notes

Back to Part 11

When Toby was sure no one was looking, he ran.

It was the money’s fault. That morning, Cait gave him an envelope full of crisp COS Leagues, six hundred, she informed him, his payment for three days of work. Toby did the math in his head, converted to the Colony Dollar, and when all of the zeros lined up right, made a break for the docks.

He had been working on the plan for the better part of the day before, since Xiphos had left him at customs. The first step was to get money. Then he’d find a charter or a ferry to Lat. From there, it’d be easy to take a train across the continent to a port town, and then back to the Colony. The last step was to figure out what to say to his parents when he got home. He wasn’t sure they’d believe him, but being there was better than here.

The terminal was a tangled mess of blocky Linian ideograms, bright neon Traditional Lat, and wispy Standard Lat. Toby shoved his way though the crowd, looking for some hint of a place to buy tickets, past cigarette shops and duty-free boutiques, past dirty food stalls and Relay booths. Close to the gateway to the docks, Toby started seeing maps of Lingguo and the 21 Kingdoms, but nothing to Lat. He passed the gateway, heading to the shops on the other side, fighting through the crowd moving in and out of the bank of doors. He glanced towards the docks, and forged to the other side of the terminal before the world caught up with him, and hit him like a rock to the back of the head. He back tracked to the gateway, peering through, making sure not to get run over by the constant surge of people.

He didn’t have his passport. He hadn’t come in with a passport. The escort still had it. And if he couldn’t get in without the passport…

Toby felt dizzy. He stumbled over to the wall, holding out his hand to catch himself. His knees gave out, and he sank down to the floor, down to the grime of a million travelers, and discarded cigarettes, and spilled duty-free whiskey. The world moved past him, ignored the Colony boy, alone, thousands of miles away from his family, regarded him as uninteresting as the rubbish bin next to him. Tears boiled up in Toby’s eyes, and he clenched his teeth, trying to muscle back the sobs.

One of the crowd broke away, sat down next to Toby, put her arm around him. Toby didn’t look, but picked up the now-familiar scent of Nina. She spoke to him, her voice low, trying to reassure him. When he settled down, was able to relax, Nina helped him up off the ground.

“We have to go back,” she said. Toby didn’t respond to her, his eyes unfocused. He wiped a tear away with the back of his hand. Nina led him out of the terminal to the Dinghy. Nina sat Toby down in the back, and drove them back to the Molyneux estate.

Nina only spoke once. “I know this sucks. But it will get better, okay?” Toby let his head rest against the window of the Dinghy, his blank stare falling on the world just past the road. Nina’s ears dropped. She put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it. She sighed, a deep exhale that was heavy with the knowledge that she could not change any of this. She let the engine hold the conversation between them.

—

Nina left Toby in the family library, a squat little building hidden behind the servants quarters. A set of guards stood at the entrance to the building, looking generally menacing, though Nina didn’t seem afraid of them, so Toby did his best to take their presence with ease. On her way out, Toby heard her say to the guards, “Toby is to stay here until someone comes to get him. In the mean time, please make sure he has everything he requires.” She spoke from behind a thousand-yard stare, and when she turned around, Toby swore he had heard her say, “this is not my job.”

The library turned out to be something of a shrine to the family’s history. Though Toby was unaware of a lot of the finer points of Molyneux history, he knew all of the major players; everybody did. The family Molyneux seemed to have a hand in many of the major world events in the last five hundred years. The first Molyneux, Gimble, saved the Archer Academy from invasion in the late 3480s, setting up the school as a fortress in a city under siege. With the help of her husband Berlin, and a few students that stayed behind, Gimble saved the city-state of Archer. Gimble was just the beginning, and the library had rooms dedicated to all of the great Molyneux. Toby began a slow exploration of his new prison cell: a giant room for the collective works of Nigel the Great, who led the then divided 21 Kingdoms to victory over Lat, Nigel the Second, who prevented civil war among the Kingdoms, and Nigel the Third, who united the 21 Kingdoms into one nation. There was a room for the great explorer Sasha, the first person to establish contact and open relations with the Sandtribe. Amalia, Cait’s grandmother, had a room close by. She had been a great explorer as well, and disappeared late in her life in Sandtribe territory. There were rooms devoted to doctors and ambassadors, so many of whom Toby had never heard of. The top floor of the library was dedicated to Montreux, Gimble’s son, and his branch of the family, all of them great artists and composers, play writes and literary figures.

And then there was Rose. Of all of the Molyneux, Rose was the most popular in the Colony, and stories of her adventures on the sea were just as deep a part of the culture there as anywhere else. Cait’s great, great, great, great aunt, Rose was a sailor by training and a tamer of pirates by sheer will. There were paintings of Rose, standing on the deck of her tall-ship, staring into the sea with the assured look of someone who understood on a completely different level than everyone else. There were murals of Rose standing in front of a table, pirate captains all around her, all getting ready to sign a document of surrender. And, off to one side, an early photograph of an elderly Rose, wearing her captain’s hat, decorated by nations from all over the world. Toby could feel her looking out of the picture as if she were looking into the future, looking at him, challenging him to do better.

In the middle of the building, under a frosted glass skylight, were the newest generations of Molyneux, the 23rd and 24th generations. This was an auspicious time for the family: Cait and her brothers and sisters were the last generation of the twenty-three generation cycle, Nina and her cousins the first.

Cait had her own small section of wall, adorned with framed photographs and newspaper clippings of her achievements. Cait had captained the University of Anchorhead’s sailing team. In the photos, Cait hung from schooners and sail-powered Storm Runners, posed with trophies, sprayed her teammates with champaign. She had three championships to her name, not including the second-place victory as a co-captain her freshman year. In these pictures, Cait was strong, her eyes sharp, the look Rose could give developing inside her.

The atmosphere of the room suddenly changed, and Toby could feel himself being watched. He turned quickly to find Xiphos behind him, looking over his shoulder at Cait’s pictures.

Toby squeaked, and tried to stammer out a few words.

Xiphos placed her hands on her hips. She exhaled sharply through her nose, glaring down at him. “Shut up,” she said. Toby could guess that Nina had gotten to her. Xiphos went back to staring over Toby’s head. After a moment, she gestured to the pictures. “She was cute, wasn’t she?”

Toby turned back to the photos on the wall, holding his hands up in front of him, playing absently with his fingers. “I wasn’t really looking at that…”

“Hmm.” Xiphos tilted her head at the pictures. “Every Molyneux is expected to be great. Can you imagine how much that must suck? I think Cait even believed that, too, you know? The Rose looks like it should be great, but…”

Toby nodded along, trying to make sure he kept up, as to not upset Xiphos. He glanced over at her, watching her ears flick around as she studied the pictures. She didn’t break her attention.

Xiphos hesitated, and then, her voice lower, spoke. “I like these pictures. Cait looks proud, like she knows she can do what she wants, and no one could take that away.” She leaned closer to one of the pictures. It appeared to be a candid snapshot, college-aged Cait in a quiet corner of a party. Next to her, arm around her, was a boy. Bottles in hand, they were oblivious to the camera, but clearly not too far gone. Cait still looked sharp, but relaxed. And the boy looked so comfortable with her that he either didn’t realize who she was, or didn’t care. They looked happy.

“I’ve always wondered who that is,” Xiphos said. “It’s weird to think there’s someone out there who actually got close to Cait, someone could break her wall down.” She straightened up. “Anyways, come on. You’re needed.” She started towards the door. “Well, not so much needed, as Cait said you should be with the rest of us. Apparently, you’re a flight risk now.”

Toby didn’t say anything to this. He kept pace behind Xiphos, watching the ground as he went.

Xiphos took Toby into the manor. Servants moved quickly between rooms, preparing for the next day’s feast. Every inch of the manor was being cleaned and repainted, last minute adjustments being made to every decoration, every detail. The head of the manor appeared now and then, running off to meet the different house groups, the butlers, the chefs, the stewards. Xiphos had to squeeze her way through, dodging people as she went. Toby struggled to keep up.

Cait had managed to find the one quiet corner of the manor. She sat in a comfortable-looking chair, a tea set in front of her, and watched the house’s heart beat. Xiphos delivered Toby, and disappeared back into the fervor of the house. Cait motioned for Toby to sit down.

Cait didn’t say anything at first. She took the time to pour Toby some tea — instantly, Toby picked up the familiar scent of Molyneux Tea — and handed him the cup. This time, Toby didn’t wait for Cait to tell him to drink. It was wonderful. Molyneux tea was complex. Its flavor started strong, but blossomed into something bright, something ever expanding. The more Toby lingered on the flavor, the more the flavor grew. He sipped again, knowing he’d never be able to have this on the Continent.

“So,” Cait said, twisting her cup on the tea tray.

Toby’s ears dropped.

“Oh, Tobias, don’t do that. I am sure you have figured out by now I knew you were going to run. You are a smart enough boy to know that. I needed you to see that, right now, there is only one good way to do this. It is not ideal in any situation, but it is what we have with which to work.”

Toby looked down at his tea cup. He managed, “I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing to be sorry about. You do not know me, and each day we sail takes you farther from home. Is that a correct assumption to make?”

Toby nodded.

Cait sipped her tea. “I need you to trust me. We will never harm you, that I promise.”

Toby considered this. Cait took another sip of tea. She poured more from the pot, first into Toby’s cup, then her own. Toby slumped down in his chair.

“Sir?”

“Yes, dear?”

Toby shuddered with the stark panic of realization. “I…I can’t ever go home, can I?”

“That is an awful thing to say, Tobias.”

Toby looked up at her. “What would have happened when I got home? I didn’t even think about that. It’d be the same thing. I’d be… abducted again. While they watch.”

Cait leaned back in her chair and considered this. “We will get things straightened out.”

Toby crumpled in his chair with a whimper. Cait leaned forward. “Tobias?”

“I don’t know what to do.” He forced each word out, stifling back a sob.

“Work,” Cait said. “And… Move forward. Survive. And when in doubt,” she raised her cup, “there’s always tea.”

[g]

Back to Part 011

Back to Part 010 Notes – Forward to Part 012 Notes

Sweet crap, is it Tuesday already? Where is my year going?

I’ve been thinking about calling all of this time in Anchorhead “Exposition Island,” because that’s what we’re getting a lot of. But this is still the beginning of the story, we’re still meeting people, laying a foundation for who those people are, and so on. To understand Cait, you have to understand who Chou and Shanda are, and what Molyneux Island is, and “the ugliness” means, and a few more things in between here and the answers. And then we can get to things like sea monsters and pirates and that horrible shortage of tea. I promise.

Speaking of sea monsters, the krakken get a small, passing mention:

“Do you remember the report a month back of the ship pulled under by a krakken, ripped in half, all hands missing or dead?” Cait dried her face with a towel. “At this moment, I envy them.”

I glossed over a lot of the estate itself. This chapter had a huge chunk of the estate in it, just some scenery painting. I’m going to spread it out over the next few chapters.

And finally, hinting at Tre and who he is. What you got is about all I can give you right now. Just like with Nina, I plan to give everyone on the Rose a moment for their own backstory. Just, you know, not now.

As always, any questions or comments you have are totally welcome.

[g]

Back to Part 010 Notes – Forward to Part 012 Notes

Back to Part 010 – Forward to Part 12

The guards that watched the gates of Buan Chuimhne waved the Dinghy through, giving Tre a brief nod. Cait and Billy rode in back, sitting across from each other in the tiny seating area. Cait let her head rest against the wall behind her, Billy kept his focus on the drive ahead. As the manor house of the Molyneux estate came in to view, Billy turned to Cait.

“We don’t have to stay, Cait,” he said. “We could deliver the package, and get paid quicker.”

“It’s family,” Cait said. “I have to.”

“Because of Chou’s birthday?”

“Because it’s Chou’s 46th birthday. It’s the start of his third cycle, which means his life is changing. He can no longer afford to be on the Grand Tour. He has a family to take care of now.”

“He hasn’t always?”

“He has,” Cait said. “But life is different for him now. Rules have changed. The time for personal gain is over. It’s now time to give his children a future. It is a very serious time.”

Billy watched out the windscreen, eyeing the ever closer estate. “You don’t like it here.”

“It is only a few days, dear.”

“It’s a few days of ridicule and passive-aggressive disappointment,” Billy said, turning back to Cait. “Home makes you drink really hard, plays with your head. I don’t like how you look when you leave here.”

“Of course not, you are a doctor.”

“I’m also your friend.” Billy followed Cait’s gaze.

Cait exhaled through her nose. Nothing Billy was saying was untrue. She had no answer for him.

“Will you at least get off the estate?” Billy asked.

Cait turned slowly. “And do what?”

“We can go over to Fortress. Go hiking on Moon Mountain. Sailing in the Harbor. You name it, I’m along for it. I’ll throw in a Tre, too.”

This made Cait smile a little. “For my sake? Poor Tre.”

Tre looked back from the driver’s seat, making every effort to lock eyes with Cait. She patted him on his head. “You have places to be, dear: Obligations that are much more important than my silly familial angst.”

“I’m being serious, Cait,” Billy said. “We can spend the rest of the time off the island.”

Cait shook her head. “I appreciate it, Billy, I really do. We have business to take care of, though. We have a boy in need of a passport, and appearances to keep. Not so much you, mind. One of us in this family has to pretend like I’m welcome at these little get togethers, it may as well be me.”

Conversation lost, Billy sat back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest. He furrowed his brow, again watching the manor house loom closer. Cait leaned over Tre’s shoulder as they passed the tea fields.

“Say what you will about the endeavours of the Molyneux family, but getting into tea was the best decision we could have made.” She sat back down in her seat. “Remind me, Billy, to make sure we refill our supply before we leave. I would hate to have to buy some again.”

“I don’t think you need reminding,” Billy said. “What would we do without it?”

—

A circular drive brushed up against the manor house, large, wide stone stairs tumbling down to meet its guests. Tre pulled the Dinghy up into the driveway, and the little van was almost instantly greeted by servants. They opened the doors, removed the luggage, and without any need to sort, matched the bags to their owners. They took the bags inside, Tre and Billy following out of surprise and a desire not to have their clothing lost to the void inside.

Cait was escorted to her old room. It was an image frozen in time, her room just the way she had left it when she had left for the Academy in Archertown, at the age of 15. Posters of Anchorhead movie stars, singers and pop bands, boats — lots of boats — and famous boat racers. Friends from school hugged each other around the shoulders and mugged for the camera. Little clips from the newspapers of her brothers and sisters, or distant members of her family.

Cait moved her bag onto her bed, walked over to the window, and pushed it open. She had spent hours, days at this window when she was younger. Out across the bay was Moon Mountain Island, its old fortress still standing guard over the interior. The city, referred to by it’s guardian namesake, collected around the ruins, small and short at first, but pushing up into the clouds as time went on. One could read the strata of the little city by the buildings, and the fortress was the beginning of it all. “Hello, Caithryn.”

Shanda Molyneux stood in Cait’s door. The current reigning matriarch, Shanda had made her name in the Molyneux family and in the world with her leadership in business. When Amalia Molyneux passed on, Shanda assumed the head of the family business, taking control of her mother’s position from her other children. Within a cycle, Shanda had expanded the family’s shipping holdings, and had started investing in salvage, pulling shipwrecks from the floor of the ocean. She had ushered the Molyneux into a new era of profitability.

Cait turned to her mother. They gave each other a soft hug, and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hello, mum,” Cait said.

“I trust you got in well,” Shanda said.

“Yes, mum,” Cait said. “No problems at all.”

“Have you had your provisions taken care of? Are you stocked well with food?”

“I have just arrived. I have not yet had time to speak to the head steward. I will tonight.”

“Splendid,” Shanda said. “I’m afraid the tea harvest is a few weeks away yet, but we have plenty stored away.”

“That will be more than adequate.”

Shanda took the chair from Cait’s old desk and sat down. She sat rigid, her legs crossed, hands in her lap. She had a stare that appraised everything that fell into its path. “And how is business?”

Cait turned away from her mother, back to looking out the window. “I do not wish to talk business here.”

“It has been nearly two years since you took out the loan with Chou,” Shanda said, tilting her head a little. “It is only appropriate we would want to know how our investment is doing.”

“I’m working on it,” Cait said.

“With little to show for your efforts. Have you passengers? What about cargo?”

“I have a reputation I do not deserve, and a family that seems nearly hostile towards my requests for help.”

Shanda waved this away with the back of her hand. “Chou was more than happy to lend you enough money to get upright again.”

“Chou treated me as he would have any other customer, interest included.”

“It is only fair.”

Cait narrowed her eyes. “As it is, this will not be a problem a ten days time. By then, I will have delivered my cargo, and Chou will be paid in full.”

Shanda softened her gaze. “That is excellent news, Caithryn!” She said. “Very good. It pained me to see you in such a state.”

Cait turned back to her mother, crossing her arms. Her ears flicked. “And how was that?”

“Penniless. A Molyneux should never be close to the poor house.”

“You mean to say, ‘A Molyneux should never publicly be close to the poor house’. Because that is what I have been hearing these last few years.”

“Nonsense,” Shanda said, standing. “Though there is something to be said about discretion. You have finally decided to take responsibility for yourself. You had no excuse for your state, and it is promising to see you have realized this.”

The fur on the back of Cait’s neck bristled. She fixed her stare at her mother, but Shanda was far better practiced at unnerving any potential opponent before he or she chose to become one. Cait started towards her washroom. Shanda took her leave, but turned back to Cait just outside the door. “I shall let your brothers and sisters know you have decided to start contributing to the family again. They will be elated.”

Cait closed herself into the washroom, throwing the little dead bolt with a reassuring ‘click’. She leaned against the door, her head back, letting her eyes wander the ceiling. Taking a few deep breaths, she turned on the cold tap and carefully splashed water on her face. She didn’t look at herself in the mirror.

Billy waited for her in her room, hands behind his back, looking over the newspaper cut outs on the wall. “The door was open,” he said as she stepped out of the washroom.

“Never mind,” Cait said, her voice quiet.

Billy turned, looking over his shoulder. “How was it?”

“Do you remember the report a month back of the ship pulled under by a krakken, ripped in half, all hands missing or dead?” Cait dried her face with a towel. “At this moment, I envy them.”

Billy sighed. “Tre’s getting anxious about getting out to the temple. We’re taking him.”

“I should-”

“This isn’t up for debate, Cait,” Billy said. “You’re getting off this estate, even if it’s for a few minutes. Now come on.”

Cait nodded. She followed him down to the grand entrance of the estate. On her way, she pulled a radio from her pocket. “Cait to Xiphos.”

“Captain?” Xiphos came back over the radio.

“How has Tobias settled in to his room?”

There was a long pause, the hiss of static coming in over the radio. And then, “We’re working on it, sir.”

Cait rubbed the bridge of her muzzle. “She does not have Tobias with her.”

Billy pulled Cait along. “Toby’ll be fine. If he’s not with Xiphos, then he’s with Nina.”

On the drive, Tre stood ready by the Dinghy, a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Are we checking out already?” Cait asked.

Tre looked down at her, pulling his jaw tight.

“I cannot blame you, dear,” Cait said. “I almost wish I had to atone. How are the amenities at the temple?”

Tre shrugged. He opened the back door of the van, letting Cait in first before he squeezed in with her. Cait slumped against the wall of the van, let out a long sigh, and closed her eyes. Tre reached across to her, and patted her on the head.

“Thanks, dear,” Cait said. “It’s just a few more days. And when we are both done atoning, we will set off again, ready to go on with our lives.”

[g]

Back to Part 010 – Forward to Part 12

Back to Part 009 Notes – Forward to Part 011 Notes

I herd u guyz leik maps:

Anchorhead in its full, flat color splendor. Just to give you an idea of scale, Molyneux Island is about eight miles across. Also, not marked on the map, the docks are on the west side of the island, Buan Chuimhne is on the very east-most tip.

Buan-Chuimhne, by the way, the name of the Molyneux estate, is Scottish Gaelic for “lasting remembrance,” or at least it should be. Given my non-existant gaelic skills, but also given my Google-fu, that’s what I came up with.

This chapter is really an introduction to Molyneux Island, which is also to hint at who Cait, and by extension, Nina, really is. We can see already that Nina’s weary of her family. Soon, we’ll get to how Cait feels.

This one’s going to be short this week, but I’ll try to carry the conversation along in the comments, provided there are any. As always, any questions or comments you have are totally welcome.

[g]

Back to Part 009 Notes – Forward to Part 011 Notes

Back to Part 009 – Forward to Part 011

Shortly after Toby found himself on the docks at Anchorhead, Toby once more found himself in handcuffs. The customs agent behind him pushed him against the wall of the customs hall, pulling the boy’s arms behind his back and applying the cuffs. The agent had come out of nowhere, and with a swift, practiced movements, he completely subdued Toby. It hadn’t hurt, not too much, the agent’s skilled movements calculated to put out exactly the right amount of pressure, but Toby fought back his tears all the same.

The agent pulled Toby away from the wall, turned the boy to face him, and gave a quick examination. He then turned him towards a small, entirely uninteresting door off to the side of the hall, and began a slow but consistent march towards it. Those waiting in line to pass through to Anchorhead watched, occasionally leaning over to whisper to their partners in voyeurism, fixing their eyes on the frightened boy. The agent had almost made to the door when he stopped, interrupted by the soft, assured voice of a girl.

“Excuse me,” she said, and the customs agent turned the kind of turn that said he could probably make overtime off if he did this right. And then, Toby felt the agent tense, and that maybe the man stood up a little straighter.

“Miss Molyneux!” The agent said. “My apologies! I had not noticed you.”

Toby turned to find Nina standing just on the other side of an empty customs bay, underneath a large sign that read “No Waiting” in three languages. She leaned on the gate separating the docklands from the rest of the country, focused on the customs officer and his charge. “That one’s mine,” she said, pointing to Toby. “He’s a hand on Captain Cait’s boat.”

The customs agent made a tiny, nervous sound in his throat. He unlocked the cuffs on Toby’s wrists, fumbling the key in the locks. He pushed Toby up to the gate with the same calculated motion he had made before, reached into the customs bay, and opened the gate to let Toby through.

“I am very sorry, Miss Molyneux,” the officer said, bowing to Nina. “If I had known-”

“No worries. What’s your name?”

“Hsu, miss. Geoffry Hsu.”

“Agent Hsu, please. We’ve been tardy with our paperwork. We’ll send it down as soon as we can.”

“Yes, miss. Thank you, miss.”

Nina waved the agent off, but he remained bowed until she left the customs hall.

Outside, Nina put her arm around Toby’s shoulders and led him to what looked like a bus stop in the middle of the street. “Are you alright?”

Toby nodded, wiping a stray tear away with his finger. “Fine,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Xiphos left you,” Nina said, her ears flattening out. “If I hadn’t come back, you could have sat in the customs jail for a couple of days. Are you sure you’re alright.”

Toby nodded.

Nina sighed. “Okay.” She patted his shoulder, and then, hands in her pockets, she leaned up against a lamp post.

Toby took a moment to look around. Anchorhead. This was unreal. Anchorhead was one of those places, the kind of place people in the Colony talked about, but had never actually been, save a rare classmate who had grown up on one of the islands, and then moved away. It was a mythical place where things were manufactured, where movies and pop stars and world champion sailors came from. And from where he stood, it looked nothing like Toby had imagined it. Where were the rows upon rows of giant tenement buildings? Where was the ferry terminal? He had expected all of the signs to be in Linian, but all he could see was traditional Latanian.

An old tram sidled up to the stop, and Nina led Toby on, and up to the top deck. The interior was wooded, its benches stained to match the paneling around the open windows. There was no air conditioning in the trams, and it was hot. Toby hadn’t been prepared for the heat; he had come from winter in the northern hemisphere, to summer in the southern. Nina sat down on one of the benches, and when Toby hesitated, she giggled and pulled him down next to her.

The tram whirred to life, starting a slow but steady climb up a hill. Toby watched out the window at the buildings that passed, taking all of the city in. Nina sat quietly next to him, her propped up on the sill of the window, staring off to somewhere past the city.

“That man,” Toby said.

“Yes,” Nina said.

“How did he know you? I mean, why would he care if the captain has me on board?”

“That’s how it is on the island,” Nina said, still staring out the window.

Toby, somewhat satisfied, folded his arms over his chest and sat back on the bench. “Anchorhead is weird.”

“This isn’t Anchorhead,” Nina said, sitting back with him.

Toby struggled with this a moment. “The captain said we were going to Anchorhead…”

“Yes,” Nina said. “And we did certainly pass through Anchorhead waters.”

The wall of buildings outside the tram suddenly broke away, the tram leaving them behind on its climb up the hill. Below them, the bay expanded out from the island, stretching towards the horizon, carrying freighters and ferries on its back. It ran up against a mountain that had pushed its way out of the sea, green and round, mist settled like a crown around its peak. Thousands of high rises crowded around its base, piers radiating from its shores like feelers, sending and receiving hundreds of boats every second. To Toby, it looked noisy and cramped, and he could imagine the smell from here, of dried fish and hamburgers, discarded beer and tea, of people and the sea all mixed together. In the distance, a few islands sat on the periphery, encircling both the island they were on, and the island in front of him.

“That’s Anchorhead,” Nina said. “This,” she pointed out the other side of the tram, to the side of an over-grown hill, “is the sovereign nation of Molyneux Island.”

Toby gaped, the wheels in his head spinning as fast as they could go. “The captain…”

Nina’s ears dropped. “Yes, she is. And myself, too, just to save you the trouble of having to-”

“You’re a Molyneux!” Toby blurted. He covered his mouth, ears flat against his head.

The few people on the top deck with them turned suddenly, looking back at Nina. When they recognized her, they all stood quickly, and with a bow, filed down to the bottom level of the tram. Nina returned a little wave as the people left, and then scrubbed her face with her hands.

“Yes,” Nina said. “Can we still be friends?”

“We’re friends?”

“I thought so.”

Toby struggled to find a comfortable position on the bench, clasping his hands together in front of him. “We’ve only known each other for four days.”

Nina shrugged. She sighed again. “I’m sorry about Xiphos. She was supposed to get you through customs.”

Toby took a moment to adjust to this sudden change. “She wouldn’t wait for me.”

The red panda folded her arms across her chest, narrowing her eyes. “She’s being a twat to you, and I shouldn’t be letting her. It’s my fault.”

“It’s not that bad…” Toby said, dropping his voice.

“It’s mean. I’ll speak with her about it.” She scratched her ear. “She’ll get better. It takes her a while to get used to people. I’m sure you’ll have something to bring you two together.”

The tramway flattened out, and the trip wound them through sparsely populated streets, carrying only a stray taxi or two, and the shadows from the canopy of trees above. Toby watched out the opposite window, catching a housing development that stood out from the blanket of trees that spread across the island, twenty stories tall, like shiny white pencils jammed in the ground. When the tram turned a corner, Toby could make out half a dozen of these tenements scattered among the trees, and each stop close to the developments shed the tram of more people. It was a short time before Toby and Nina were alone.

And very soon after that, the tram pulled into a big loop at the end of the road. It stopped at a weathered stone bench, cut into a wall that ran as far as Toby could see either way. Next to the little alcove, carved into the stone, were the words “Buan Chuimhne.” Nina lead Toby off the tram, giving a little bow to the driver, and turned towards a little road that led to a gate.

Nina stood with her hands on her hips, staring at the gate at the end of the drive. She gave a heavy sigh, her ears slowly slide flat against her head. Toby stepped up behind her, poking his fingers together, looking through the gate, then over at Nina, and back to the gate.

“Where are we?”

“Buan Chuimhne,” Nina said. “The Molyneux family estate.”

“Oh.” Toby shifted his weight back and forth on his feat.

“Yes.” She turned back to Toby, her gaze still distant. “Do you want to go back to dock towns?”

Toby looked through the gate again, and then back to Nina. He nodded.

“Brilliant,” she said, brightening. “I know this little bookshop that has this wizard coffee shop next to it.”

They turned back to the tram loop and waited for a distant tram to make its way to them.

“Wizard?” Toby asked. “Like broomsticks and owls and teen angst?”

“Like, it’s good,” Nina laughed, hitting Toby in the shoulder.

“I don’t think you’re saying that right.” Toby rubbed his arm.

Nina stuck her tongue out at Toby, and swatted at his ear. Toby flailed a poor defense, reducing Nina into a body-shaking giggle fit. Toby folded his arms, staring off into the trees on the side of the road, his ears slicked back against his head.

Nina stifled a giggle. “Oh, I’m sorry, Toby.” She took his arm in his, and watching the tram with him, said, “You should tell me all about your home.”

Toby narrowed her eyes at her, checking her face for her intentions, and when he registered she was serious, started to tell her of the Red River Valley, back home in the Colonies.

It would be dark, many hours later, before they made it back to the estate.

[g]

Back to Part 009 – Forward to Part 011

Back to Part 008 Notes – Forward to Part 010 Notes

Milly and I were talking last night, and she was upset that we didn’t actually get to see Nina and Xiphos meeting. It’s understandable that she would want to see this, because Nina and Xiphos are both separately neat people, and cute together. I said the meeting would be less than satisfactory, and I’m almost of the mind that it really doesn’t matter what their first meeting was actually like, because they’re together now. But I suppose it’d be interesting to see how both of them act in that situation. So, their first meeting:

Xiphos found the girl Cait had told her about in the entry gallery, just as Cait had said, her arms still folded over her chest. She had her stare fixed down the foot bridge between the two boats, but as Xiphos got closer, the girl unfolded her arms, her attention shifting to this new distraction.

Nina followed, her tail twitching behind her.

Annnd scene.

So there you have it.

As for the rest of this section, Cait meets one of her many siblings at sea, huzzah. I don’t have much to say about the family Molyneux, but we’ll meet more of them in the next few weeks.

As always, any questions or comments you have are totally welcome.

[g]

Back to Part 008 Notes – Forward to Part 010 Notes