The Crippled God

an accident?’
    The Jaghut did not reply.
    Shurq stepped closer. ‘Does Tavore even know she killed her own sister?’
    ‘Irrelevant, Captain Elalle. It is the ignorant who yearn most for redemption.’
    After a moment, she stepped back, went to the side rail, stared out over the rolling grey swells, what Skorgen called swollen waters. ‘If we had met in your realm, Hood,’ she said, ‘I would not have refused my state. I would not have sought to escape. Instead, I would have tried to kill you.’
    ‘Many have, Captain.’
    ‘Good for them.’ Swollen waters . ‘Hood, if she never discovers the truth – if she is made to carry that ignorance for the rest of her days … do you even care?’
    ‘Do you imagine that knowledge would be a gift?’
    ‘I … don’t know.’
    ‘The truth may hide at your feet. The truth may lie coiled in high grasses. But it still has claws, it still has fangs. Be careful, Captain, where you step.’
    ‘Food reserves are dwindling,’ Felash said, and then sighed and looked up at her handmaiden. ‘Straits are dire for dear Mother.’ She sat straighter, arched her back and groaned. ‘Do you advise rest? These journeys through troubled realms, by Jaghut’s cold breath or not, do take their toll upon my delicate self. But I must refuse your concerns, my dear. Necessity demands – is that wine you’re pouring? Excellent. I’d thought that long gone.’
    ‘I made a request, Highness.’
    ‘Indeed? Of whom?’
    ‘It seems,’ the woman said, passing over a cup, ‘libations in the name of death continue unabated, and if the once-god of that dread underworld is not above trespassing in his old … er, haunts, well, far be it from us to complain.’
    ‘Just so. Nonetheless, sweetie, I dislike the notion of you consorting with that hoary creature. Best keep a respectful distance, matching my own wise caution in this matter.’
    ‘As you wish.’
    ‘But I must say, superb wine, given its provenance – I trust you have acquired a decent supply.’
    ‘Luckily, yes, Highness.’
    ‘The other news is almost as dire, I’m afraid. We have cause now to mistrust the motivations of the Perish Grey Helms. Most disturbing.’
    The handmaid’s eyes narrowed as she set to filling a bowl of rustleaf. ‘Are we not at this moment sailing to a rendezvous with the Perish fleet, Highness?’
    ‘Assuming no calamity had struck, yes. But what is their disposition? The answer to that question is now paramount.’
    ‘Perhaps I could scry—’
    ‘No, we cannot risk that. The warren of the Forkrul Assail waxes full – hmm, was I being poetic there, or succumbing to cliché?’
    ‘I wouldn’t know,’ murmured the handmaiden, concentrating on lighting the pipe.
    ‘We have been careless in your education. Never mind. Too late now, for it is well known that a person’s brain ossifies at a certain age, becoming incapable of new acquisition, barring simple matters such as languages, martial skills and so on. There is a moment when true genius is within the reach of any and every child, and the gauge of that moment’s duration is in fact the only means of defining intelligence. Thus, while you are naturally bright, and therefore it is probable that the time of your receptivity could have been measured in months, if not years, we have done all we thought to do at that juncture, and the time for regrets is past – my dear, what was in this wine? My mouth seems to be running all by itself. For most people, of course, that moment of receptivity was sadly brief. A day? Half a day? And alas, once gone, it can never return.’
    ‘Excuse me, Highness, your pipe is lit.’
    ‘Good. Give it over. About this wine—’
    There was a knock upon the cabin door, and a moment later the latch lifted and First Mate Skorgen Kaban the Pretty loomed in the doorway, knuckling his brow. ‘Princess, Highest of Highs, beg yer pardon. Got urgent happenings up top, if you please. Cap’n requests yer presence.’
    Felash sighed. ‘Very well, assuming I am able to, uh, stand. Umph, some assistance—’
    The handmaid reached out to steady her.
    ‘Lead on, Skorgen,’ Felash said with a careless wave of one hand. ‘And if you must ogle my tits, try being subtle about it, will you?’
    ‘Sorry, Highness. Only got the one good eye, y’know.’
    They paused and waited while the handmaid got over a sudden fit of coughing.
    Shurq Elalle turned as her first mate clumped up to her.
    ‘Captain! The Squall Witch –