Paladins of the Pickle Goddess

I expected the tunnel to be cold. Instead, it was uncomfortably warm, a little damp, and most definitely pitch dark. I fumbled around, trying to trace the edge of the dirt, and ended up grabbing someone’s arm instead.

“Sylvia?”

“No,” said the voice. Apis, then.

“Ah.” I dropped his arm.

“No, you can- I’ve got the edge of the tunnel, I think.”

“This should be an important lesson for all of us. Never leave home without a lantern.”

“Mother?”

“I am most certainly not your mother. And you should not be touching any woman there!” I jostled forward, towards Apis, before Servius could grab for me again.

“Don’t speak to my boy that way!”

“I’m teaching him an important lesson. Unless you’d like him to learn the hard way.”

“He has earned the right to do what he likes as part of his position in society. A right you would have, as well, if you hadn’t abandoned us.”

“So, um, I shouldn’t move his hand, Lady Sylvia?”

“Duran, just punch him.”

“…Servius, let go of everyone, and stay still until Mother takes your hand, all right?”

“I don’t like this, Mother. I thought we would be using more swords.”

“What did I do to deserve two of them?” Oops, I said that one out loud.

Before anyone was bold enough to answer me, we had come to another set of stairs. I only knew they were stairs because I tripped forward, nearly falling flat on my face before Apis’s hand closed neatly around my upper arm and caught me.

“All right there?”

His face must have been close to mine. He kept his voice low, as though he didn’t want me to be embarrassed. Too late; I had just been defeated by a stair step. I was brought low. I straightened up, using him for support, and coughed as the other voices grew closer. “There’s a stair here,” I said. “Watch your step.”

Fumbling and in the darkness, we made it up one wide stair, then another; on the seventh, a faint bit of light cracked through what looked like wood grain. A thump sounded, a groan from Apis- he was a stair ahead of me.

“Watch your head.”

Dirt rained down as he scrabbled above his head, trying to find the way out. I pushed up too. Between the two of us, one hand found a latch; the trap-door opened, and we were out.

The door opened at the edge of the harbor. It was an unremarkable part of the city. The harbor and the dockside of the Capitol were used by all the districts, most of the business going through Central and Uptown, but some of it going to the Northern district when the industrial ships were brave enough to try the shallows.

Even though the Southern district was in the deepest part of the harbor, they didn’t allow many to anchor there. The Infamy was visible, just off-shore. But no docks had been built, no waste of the shoreline. Just walking paths, ways to observe the ocean. We have access to the best of the ocean, the best of the harbor, they bragged. But we won’t use it. Not for the money. We don’t need to- not anymore.

The old pilings of the docks were still here, echoes of the stone being worn away. At low tide, a brave teenager could wade out and climb out upon them. I’d spent some entertaining nights doing just that. Now I stared out into the waters. Just beyond the pilings, where it barely got deep.

“I didn’t realize the Quarantine Ship was so close,” I said. “I thought the district would be afraid of getting infected when the wind was too high.”

“No one thinks they’re actually infected,” said Lady Sylvia. Under the light of the moon, she was dusting invisible dirt off of her hair. She was still perfectly clean, because she was cursed to remain perfect. “It’s simply a requirement of the church, because they’re still angry the empire broke apart.”

“Also because the pox isn’t visible until you’ve been infected for two weeks,” snapped Apis. “Unless you’d rather be sentenced to being ugly?”

Lady Sylvia sniffed. “It’s not like that! I didn’t have an heir yet- being beautiful was actually important. For the succession! It’s not as if you could understand, being- like you are.”

“Anyway,” I said. “They’re within reach of the pilings. I didn’t realize it was permitted to dock that close to shore.” This side of the harbor, the rock dropped off sharply. But the Southern district was still petty, and refused nearly everyone.

“They’re important visitors. Here for the festival. Of course we accepted them.”

“Still,” I said, slowly. The pilings were perfect for tying up a boat, even at high tide- a few next to shore poked out just enough to anchor a rowboat. No one would question the presence of one, since a few high-class councilmen still fished on sunny days.

And I could see where a ladder had been thrown over the side of the Quarantine Ship. On the perfect side for someone coming from the Pilings. A boat floated next to it, tied to the side. A rowboat, as it happened. Exactly the type an amateur fisherman might use. “I wonder why this tunnel exists, and why that ship is so close to it. Seems like a strange coincidence.”

“They had to keep away from the Infamy,” snapped the Lady Sylvia. “What if there was an escape?”

“What if,” I said, slowly. Then, tying up my skirts, I went for the first piling.

It was harder than it had been when I was a teenager. I was quite a bit heavier, for one, and I didn’t have nearly the range of motion. But still, my old bones had a bigger sense of self-preservation than I’d had before, and I was able to scrape my way up even as Lady Sylvia cried that this was very unusual.

When I was finally on top of the piling, staring out at the next one- a rather far jump, but I’d rather jump than swim- I turned back to her, hands on my hips. “If you’re scared, you don’t have to come.”

Duran was already wading up, trying to climb up the same piling. They were barely big enough for two teenagers; fitting me and Duran would be an effort. I inhaled, tried to tell myself it wasn’t a muscle memory I could forget. I pulled back, and jumped.

The night air whipped across my face, salt and panic and everything like I had never left. My hand reached out, grabbing for the piling. My face hit against stone. My arms scraped down, my body slipping.

I had missed. But I still had grip of the piling. I scrabbled, pulling myself up. I had hit my nose badly, my face throbbing. Behind me, I could hear Duran’s triumphant cry as he pulled himself up onto the first piling.

There were four rows of pilings. Only a few more jumps to go. Then, at the last moment, we would swim; swim for that boat, for the ladder up.

I could do it. I would. If I had been able to do it at fourteen, I could do it now.

Pickles got better with time. Didn’t I?

I swiped across my face, where it was sticky with blood and some horrible seaweed smell. The piling was an arm’s length across, partially broken off from collisions with boats and rotting with old seaweed and barnacles. Once, it had supported an entire dock. The city had been born on this dock.

It would have to do more work today. I pulled back again as Duran shouted towards me.

“Are you well, Madam Elysia?”

I soared. For a moment I was fifteen again. Then my feet landed, hard on the pilings, and I could feel every ache in my hips, and I was most definitely thirty-six, too-heavy and in the wrong place entirely.

I missed the inn. I turned back, watching the others. Servius and Duran, on the same piling; Servius, slipping off, Duran offering him a hand. Both of them one behind me. Apis, giving up entirely and just swimming, very slowly. Lady Sylvia, jumping gracefully.

She hadn’t stumbled once. Her dress was still unmarked, although she’d tied it up around her knees, too.

There was one more jump to go. I looked down and Apis was treading water below me, looking concerned. “Are you sure?” He said.

“It’s faster this way.”

“For Duran, maybe,” he said. “I know you can swim.”

“Feel free to say you told me so if I miss,” I said. “At least this way, I don’t have to deal with wet skirts until the last minute.” I pulled back. I jumped.

At the last minute, I could tell- I was going to miss. I leaned forward, aimed with my entire belly. A larger target towards the pillar.

When I landed, it smacked all of the breath out of me. I ached. But when I rolled over, stared at the sky, back against the pillar, I couldn’t help but laugh. I had defeated the pilings after all. I reached up with a hand, swiped the blood off my lip. One more distance to cross.

I sat up and slipped into the water. At least I only had a short swim left to go.

When I finally pulled myself up into the boat, I was the first to get there. Duran and Servius were incredibly slow, both weak swimmers; Apis had to help them the last part of the way, encouraging them with such notes as “not like that!” and “breathing! Yes!”

Lady Sylvia was the last to arrive, pushing herself out of the water like a dolphin and swiping off the water with the back of her hand. “Well,” she said. “Not the way I anticipated my evening going.”

“Feel free to leave at any moment,” I said.

“And miss your incredible discovery?” She said. “I couldn’t.”

This was what I had missed. The half-smile as she met my eyes. Why hadn’t she read my letter? She could have forced that husband of hers to come north. I could have made her oat-cakes.

I turned away instead of saying any of that, started climbing the ladder. It was steady enough, easy to get on deck. There weren’t many crew up on deck at this time of night. Only a few hands, playing cards by the light of a lantern.

“That’s got to be cheating,” muttered one.

“It isn’t my fault you just play whatever high card you’ve got!” said the other. “It’s called strategy. Consider using it next time.”

“Excuse me,” I said, stepping up to them. “Have you seen a pair of priests come by, lately?”

“Oh, yes,” said the first guard- a boy only a few years older than Duran, as far as I could tell. “They came to bless the-” He paused for a little too long, stared out at something behind me. “….the residents. Would you, ah-” He paused again. I looked behind me, but all that stood behind me was the rest of my investigative crew. “…would you like to see them?”

“Of course,” I said. He seemed reluctant to leave his game, but the other guard rolled her eyes. Finally, he turned his cards over- he was losing badly, I noted- and stood up. “Right, then.”

He pulled two a lanterns off the wall, lit both with a single match before letting it flare out with the wind.

A door creaked open as he nodded to another guard. They all had weapons, I noted; was this normal for a quarantine ship? Are they trying to escape?

“Just through here,” he said. A great wooden door, at the back of the ship, just below the deck. On another ship, it might have been used as storage. Here, it was empty- save for a pair of chairs.

He cleared his throat. “Take a seat, please.”

“You can’t bring us to them?”

“They’re otherwise occupied,” he said. He set a lamp down on the table. “I’ll…. go ask about it. Please, sit. We can bring refreshments if you’d like.”

I squinted. “I didn’t think you were meant to eat anything on a Quarantine Ship.” I didn’t move.

“Please don’t make me get the other guards.”

“Excuse me?”

“This isn’t personal,” said Lady Sylvia. “Honestly, Elysia, you’re just too competent. I can’t have you out in the city right now. There’s too much unrest as it is.”

Another guard had appeared; he lurked behind her, sword out. She and Servius were moving towards the door. Servius stepped towards her, whispered something in her ear. She sighed.

“Duran? That’s your name?”

Duran had been clinging to my side, eyes wide. “…yes?”

“You’ll come with us,” she said. “Servius thinks he owes you a debt, for some reason.”

“I’m staying with Madam Elysia!” He clung closer to me.

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” I said. “Go with her.”

He stared up at me. I jerked my head towards her. When he didn’t move, I leaned in and muttered in his ear, “If you’re in here, none of us get to do anything. If you’re out there, you can be helpful.”

“Oh!”

He jostled towards Lady Sylvia. I looked between the guard in the room, the guard behind her. She rolled her eyes. “You won’t be able to take them.”

“You always underestimated me.”

“You always overestimated yourself.” She snapped her fingers before I could prove her wrong, and the door was closing; it only had a handle on one side. I stepped forward, hand scrabbling over the wooden surface, trying to pull it back.

I was too late. With a thud, I heard a dead-bolt close on the other side.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. I let my head fall forward, thump on the wood. It was still, unfortunately, completely solid.

I sighed. “That could have gone better.”

“On the plus side,” said Apis, “At least I’m not worried about my landlady anymore.”