Patchwork Earth Book 1: Chapter 11 (Patreon)

Chapter 11

Goto brought up the rear as they climbed up the rope ladder. Bose had insisted on going first. The samurai thought his companion seemed oddly enthusiastic as he’s reclaimed his clothes from Klai. Then again, the cowboy had been suffering in the heat, and there had been promises of refreshment. Goto couldn’t blame him for wanting his protection back, and for getting first crack at whatever drinks were available. 

Klai had asked to go second when a pair of deathwings showed up to pick over the dead sandswimmers. “You seem to understand them, saw-mo-“

“If you can’t say the word, just call me Goto.” He was amused at how little the scavengers cared about the hovering ship. For flying creatures like them, he supposed a floating ship wasn’t anything special. 

As Goto cleared the wooden railing of the ship, his bemusement faded away and his jaw dropped. “What are you?”

The black-haired woman handed Goto a mug of something amber with a chuckle. “I do not know how you greet a lady back home, but I doubt it is like that!” She looked to be twice Goto’s age, judging by the crow’s feet around her purple eyes and the streaks of white that interrupted her ringlets of onyx-black hair. He forgot his confusion as he met her gaze for a long moment. Goto had never seen eyes in that shade before. 

“Or perhaps they do not have ladies in Japan? That is where you are from, yes? I recognize your sword.”

“Oh, y-yes, we do, of course.” He reflexively removed his straw hat and accepted the mug. He gave her a shallow bow. “I am sorry, ma’am. I was not referring to you.” He waved his hand at the others gathered around the deck. If Klai was an oni, he was confronted by a dizzying array of yokai, monsters straight out of the legends and picture books of his homeland. “I was simply not… well…”

The woman chuckled as he straightened back up. He was mostly successful at ignoring that her white blouse was largely unbuttoned, or that she had a figure to make women half her age jealous. It would be unseemly to let his gaze linger. “They are a lot to take in, aren’t they?”

“You certainly have a colorful bunch of friends,” said Bose. 

“How would you know?” She laughed again. “You haven’t looked at them once since you came up. I am glad I can still turn heads.” 

Bose didn’t have the decency to look embarrassed. “Seems to me that the good Lord put a lot of care into you, and it would be a shame not to admire it.”

“Oh, I’ll have to watch out for you.” She shot Goto a wink. “Your friend is more polite. It is a shame. Polite men are boring.”

Klai almost seemed normal amongst the other crewmen. She glowered quietly as she drank from her own earthenware mug. “I think Bose could stand to be a little more boring.”

“Bose? Is that your name, my whiskered mystery man?”

The cowboy met her gaze with a toothy grin. “Where are my manners today? I’m awful glad you ain’t one to worry about such things, mon chaton. Bose King, at your service.”

“Oh my, is that French? Real French? It has been too long since I have heard it, without the magic of Patchwork twisting other tongues!”

Klai drained her mug and set it aside. “I’m here too. I am Klai of Clan Meina, hunter and protector of the Blessed Oasis. What’s your angle?”

The woman regarded the delphen with a playful smirk. “You should relax. I am not a snake, and I will not bite. We simply saw three travelers in danger in the wasteland and decided to do the neighborly thing.”

Bose nodded. “Awful kind of you, ma’am.”

Klai’s expression stayed sour, but she didn’t say anything. 

The sailor looked expectantly at Goto. He coughed into his hand and bowed. “Goto Matsukata.”

She straightened her open blue and gold jacket and put a hand to her chest. “Charmed. I am Captain Nathalie Delacroix, and I am pleased to have you aboard La Récompense Éternel. It is wonderful to see some other newcomers from the Old World.”

She wasn’t a native to this mysterious land? It explained how she knew a katana by sight, much less what Japan was. Though, he did have to wonder if he could trust the strange woman. This strange place didn’t seem like a place where decent people could thrive. 

“Come, I shall give you a grand tour, and then we can get you some food and drink.” 

Goto considered his half-forgotten mug as he followed her and the crew went back to their jobs. It tasted like ale, though watered down. Still, it tasted like heaven after so long in the desert. 

The samurai couldn’t claim to be an expert on sailing vessels, but this one seemed a bit on the small side. La Récompense Éternel had a tall hull designed for long ocean voyages, not that she was likely to find waves in the desert. They made their way across the deck, and Goto couldn’t help himself as they went.

“What’s that?” He pointed at a creature like a parrot, only the height of a large dog.

“Oh, that is Sally,” replied Nathalie. “She is the ship’s pet. She is friendly, but a bit greedy. If you give her a snack, she will sing for you.”

“A shame we have none,” replied Goto. The creature followed after them, pecking at Goto’s pockets and chirping. “I said, I have none!”

“You do have a way with critters,” said Bose.

“Even deathwings,” added Klai.

Nathalie smirked as Sally kept prodding Goto. “Well, my dear Sally is far more friendly than those scavengers. It is not surprising that she has taken a shining to you.”

Goto turned away from the bird. “And what’s that?”

Captain Delacroix’s smile wavered a bit. “Let us try again, yes? That should be, ‘who is that?’ And the answer is, Noni, the best helmsman a captain could ask for.”

The fanged, cyclopean monster took a meaty hand off the wheel to scratch the back of his head. It didn’t much matter, since there were three more to pick up the slack. “Thanks, Cap’n.” He reached over and pulled a lever next to the steering wheel.

“I only speak the truth,” she replied, ruffling his white hair. “Oh, you should all hold on to something.” She followed her own advice, slipping a hand into a leather sling attached to a post.

Before Goto could ask what she meant, something in the ship thrummed to life and tilted upwards. He nearly fell off his feet, but Klai caught his flailing hand. “What was that?”

“The engine,” Nathalie replied.

Goto couldn’t keep the anger from his voice. “I thought this was a sailing ship!”

“It is,” replied Nathalie. “You see the sails, yes?”

“Then why does it even have an engine?”

Nathalie let out a musical chuckle. “I do not know what they have cooked up since I left Louisiana, but I doubt the ships can fly without a little assistance.”

“That doesn’t…”

Bose cut him off. “Wait, you’re from Louisiana? I used to work out of New Orleans.”

“Oh? It is a small world, even here,” Nathalie replied. “I am actually from Orleans. The original.” She tittered at her own joke, and Bose joined in.

“It wasn’t that funny,” muttered Klai quietly enough that only Goto heard. 

Nathalie turned to Noni. “Level out, Mr. Noni. We are at a proper height.”

“Aye, Cap’n.” Goto watched with interest as the cyclops went to work. He wasn’t sure how the single lever could control the ship so precisely, but Noni had the delicate touch of an expert. 

The ship leveled out, much to Goto’s relief. He had never cared for riding on boats or trains, and the airship seemed to have the worst aspects of both. He released Klai’s hand and gave her a bow. “Thank you.”

The delphen nodded wordlessly, her eyes fixed to the chatting Bose and Nathalie. Goto couldn’t make out their words, but their closeness spoke volumes on its own. 

The captain seemed to remember the others and gestured towards a set of stairs behind Noni. “Come, join me in the captain’s mess. You have all had a trying day.”

“That’s the most agreeable thing she’s said all day,” said Klai as they made their descent. 

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