Inti's Watcher

Marie sipped a cup of tea after breakfast, watching her crew as they waited for Nop to tell them what this week's contest would be.

To her left, Sophie was angrily attempting to eat a bowl of rice and egg with chopsticks. And failing. To Marie's right, Razan was acting far too smug about how easy it was for him to eat. Marie assumed he'd won at cards, and the chopsticks had been some kind of wager.

Across from Marie, Peter got up and took their empty bowls to the sink. He'd been humming something under his breath all morning, barely noticing other people existed. Marie wondered if she should talk to Grace about that.

Finally, Nop hopped onto the table. "Please come to the couch, and I will begin this week's presentation."

"Certainly!" Sophie said a bit too brightly. She dropped the chopsticks on the table and ran to the couch.

Razan smiled, watching her. And then immediately returned to neutral when he noticed Marie's eyes were on him. They stared at each other for a few seconds, neither moving.

"I need to teach you poker," Marie decided, getting to her feet. "I suspect you'd be excellent at it."

"I am always willing to learn, Captain," he said formally, following her to the couch. As usual, he sat on the floor next to the small table.

Peter wandered over, head still in the clouds, and sat in the chair opposite Marie.

Nop hopped onto the table. "This week, we're dropping everyone off in the Banda Sea. We've planted buttons on sixteen atolls, and your job will be to find and push them all. There are five styles of boat available for you to travel on. All necessary equipment will be provided, as well as food and water. We expect it to take all afternoon. Let us know by tonight if you're joining, and which type of craft your team prefers."

"What type of boats are there?" Marie asked.

"I have pictures," Nop said, turning to a wall. Five drawings appeared, showing boats from the side and top.

The first was just a flat raft with a rudder and a square sail. Not practical at all, but to Marie it looked amazingly fun to handle for a single day.

The second looked like an oversized canoe with four oars and, again, a square sail. With the oars it wouldn't matter which direction the wind was going, but that somehow felt like cheating.

The third had a triangular sail and looked to Marie somewhat like a raft on top of two thin canoes. It took her a moment to figure out how it would work.

The fourth was the most basic of single-sailed catboats to have ever been designed. Marie already knew how to handle it perfectly.

And the fifth… She recognized the square sail as a Chinese style, but it was set very forward. The boat itself she would have called normal in the Caribbean.

Marie sat back, noticing everyone watching her. She looked at Razan. "Samurai, do you know how to sail?"

He bowed slightly. "I learned enough to know how to avoid capsizing most vessels."

"That's… good," Peter decided uncertainly. "I've stood on a river barge a few times."

"I didn't drown in that canoe in Antarctica," Sophie added.

"Would you all agree to join?" Marie asked.

"Uhm, what's an atoll?" Peter asked. "The word might not be translating for me."

Nop changed the pictures on the wall to show a circle of sand in the middle of the ocean, the middle filled with water the same depth as the water outside the circle.

"That's natural?" Sophie asked, staring.

"Perfectly," Nop answered. "There are hundreds of them in your oceans."

Peter grinned. "Translator is working fine; I've just never heard of anything like that."

"I'll join as long as we agree to not cross through one of those," Razan said, squinting at the inside water suspiciously.

Sophie and Peter agreed.

Marie nodded. "Very well; we're in. As far as the boat we choose… Would we rather be confident in our ability to do well, or have fun?"

Razan glared suspiciously into the tin of green tea. It was not Japanese. He didn't know where it was from, but it wasn't what he was used to, and therefore it was bad.

Nop appeared, hopping onto the counter. "Your presence is requested, please follow me."

Faintly curious, he put the tea away and followed the raven into his room. She hopped onto his table and put a recording onto the wall.

It showed a forest. A forest he recognized. An old woman was on a small cart, which was being pulled by a young samurai. Razan didn't recognize the man, but he recognized the old woman.

Manabesama, his previous landlady.

"Who is the man?" Razan asked, sitting down next to Nop.

"Kujo Kanetaka, your replacement," she answered. "We've been watching him since he arrived to replace you. His life has been quite exciting; no less than four young women are fighting for his attention, one being the landlady's granddaughter."

Razan… decided to ignore all that. He said nothing, watching the pair walk through the forest.

"This is far enough," the landlady said, and Kujo stopped. She pushed herself off the cart. "To any spirits who are listening! All this here belongs to Miyamoto Razan! Be sure and get it to him!"

"Is this currently happening?" Razan asked.

"Yes," Nop answered.

Manabesama turned to the young samurai. "Right, dump everything out, and we'll go back."

Razan grinned. "Can you take everything including the cart?"

"We can."

Razan bowed, and a blue glow filled the forest. Kujo fell back and scrambled away before bowing with his head pressed to the ground.

The old lady wasn't as impressed. Her eyes widened, but then she frowned and waved her cane at the air. "My cart! Give me my cart back, you thieves! I'm not walking all the way back to town; you bring my cart back right this instant!"

Nop turned to Razan. "Should we-"

"Absolutely not," he said, enjoying watching her shout and rant. "If possible, could you return it to her yard at midnight?"

"Yes, that should work," Nop said. "But only if you take everything off it before then."

"I will," he promised, getting to his feet. "Where is it?"

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Would you like to go now?"

Razan glanced at the amusing scene in the forest, then nodded. "In all likelihood she'll still be yelling when I get back."

Nop hopped off the table, and Razan was covered in a blue glow. A moment later, he landed in a grey room which only held the cart and a curious Nop.

He moved to the small cart, recognizing the cloth which covered everything as his old blanket. It was threadbare, too short, and probably full of fleas. He folded it carefully and put it on the ground.

He really hadn't owned much before falling into that volcano. One change of clothes. A few calligraphy brushes. A comb and toothbrush. A pair of elegantly carved chopsticks. A very sharp knife. Some small things he'd collected for luck. And his armor.

Razan put all the small things on the blanket, then arranged his armor in the cart, making sure nothing was missing. It was all there, ready to be worn into battle. It certainly wasn't the best armor, having been given to him by his uncle when the man got a better set, but it was sturdy and fit properly.

He turned to Nop. "Is there a way to dye this?"

"Of course," she answered. "We can dye it a solid color while cleaning it, so that can be done for free. If you'd like a combination of colors, that would require more time and effort, and we would charge you based on the complexity."

"Dye it all blue-green, please," he decided, ideas coming to life in his mind as it was taken away.

He didn't need it this week, and would probably be fine without it for another month, so he could take as long as he liked to paint it, adding in as many details as he wished. Marie certainly wouldn't care if he entered a contest in ornately-decorated armor; if anything, he suspected she'd approve of it, taking the opportunity to get fancier things herself.

Nop broke him out of his thoughts. "The blanket and clothes need cleaning, but everything else can be sent directly to your room. Shall I?"

"Yes, thank you," Razan answered, smiling as he wondered if his old landlady had stopped complaining yet.

Peter frowned, listening to Grace play their new song.

"There," he said suddenly, and she stopped. "You have it go up; I think it would be better if it went down."

"What, like this?" she asked, replaying the notes. She grimaced. "Yeah, that is better."

He nodded, writing the new notes on the sheet.

Grace leaned over, reading the sheet. "But if we do that, then over here it has to go down, too. And that would mess up this here…"

"I don't think it would," he said, then hummed the section under his breath. "Maybe-"

He was cut off by a knock at the door. Grace got up to answer, taking the sheet in question with her. The door slid open, revealing Fael on the other side. Before he could say anything, Grace handed him the page.

"Do you think we should change the fifth line?" she asked.

Fael glanced at it, then handed it back. "As I told you yesterday: I cannot read music. Have you eaten today?" He looked into the room at Peter. "Have either of you eaten today?"

Peter felt guilty; he knew they'd skipped lunch in favor of composing, and that had been a few hours back.

"Yeah, breakfast," Grace said.

"It is nearly eight at night," Fael informed her.

"Oh." She turned, grinning sheepishly at Peter. "I think he's suggesting we get food."

"Demanding," Fael corrected.

Peter got up, retrieving his hat from a chair. "Thank you for the reminder."

Fael bowed slightly, moving out of the doorway. "I suggest you spend tomorrow away from the piano. Too much time in one room is not good."

"Tomorrow's Tuesday; I have to spend it with my group no matter what," Peter said.

"Tomorrow is Thursday."

Peter stopped, horrified. "It is? Oh. I- Wait…"

"It is not," Fael admitted, smiling as he shook his head. "Tomorrow is Tuesday, as you said. But the fact that you believed me shows how focused you've been. That is bad."

"What's wrong with a bit of focus?" Grace asked, grinning. "We're working hard to compose the perfect song."

Peter decided to not mention that they'd spent half the day talking about nothing and everything, just enjoying being in each other's company.

"Nothing is wrong with focus," Fael told her. "But as group leader, I must insist you focus on something else now."

"Very reasonable," Peter said, taking Grace's hand as he left her room. "I'm sure my captain would agree it's time we get something to eat."

Grace shook her head. "Fine, but only because I'm starving. Not because I think it's reasonable."

"Thank you," Fael said. "Also, Peter…"

"Yes?"

"As group leader, it falls to me to avenge any harm caused to those in my group." He smiled coldly. "Hurt Grace and I will kill you."

Grace stiffened, glaring daggers at Fael.

Peter cleared his throat. "Respectfully, sir, you'd have to get in line."

At eleven at night, Marie followed Sophie to the transport room.

For the first time since meeting her, Sophie was wearing a real dress. Marie had to admit the girl didn't look like herself in it. She looked mature and formal, not like someone who would happily jump off a cliff for the thrill of it.

Marie wondered if anyone would notice that, over the course of the past two months, Sophie had lost what little excess fat she'd had and gained solid muscles in their place. Under a corset and long sleeves it wasn't too noticeable, but there were subtle things which gave away how strong the thief was now.

They got to the transport room to find Louis already waiting. He was wearing a proper outfit for London, which was high-waisted trousers, a jacket which reached the knees, and a silly top hat.

He swept the hat off and bowed theatrically. "Good evening, ladies."

Sophie gave a very proper-looking curtsey. "Sir."

Louis smiled at Marie, putting the hat back on as he straightened up. "Well? Do I look dashing in this outfit?"

Marie sighed, adjusting the collar of his shirt. "I lament having to tell you this, my love, but I don't believe there's an outfit in the world you'd fail to look dashing in. It's in your eyes."

Sophie stifled a giggle.

Louis beamed. "I accept that compliment, and won't even take it as a challenge."

"Good." Marie leaned in for a brief kiss. "I'll admit, though, I've never understood the appeal of top hats."

"They make excellent buckets in case of emergency," he explained. "One never knows when one will suddenly need a bucket."

"Of course, how could I not have realised that?" Marie asked, doing her best to remain serious.

Before the conversation could devolve further into silliness, a section of the wall slid open and two ravens hopped out. They were built identically, but the way they moved and held their feathers was different. Knowing who they should be, Marie identified the calm, relaxed one as Irik, who was in charge of Louis' group. The straighter, slightly more jittery one had to be Nop.

"Sophie, Louis, are you ready to go?" Nop asked.

"Yes."

"Aye."

"Good," Irik said, stepping up next to Nop. "To refresh the rules once more… Don't mention the transportation thing. Don't use the bail device unless you're literally about to die. Get to a private location before asking to be returned. If you want us to do something to prove we exist, we won't. Don't do anything which will get you arrested, Louis. Language rules don't apply… Since you're going to a city, you'll be blasted with the magic anti-sickness rays on the Satellite before being brought back here. And don't dally."

"They're not 'magic anti-sickness rays'," Nop hissed.

"Last I checked, four of the words to describe the process still don't exist in English," he countered. "And when we can't describe something, we call it…"

"Magic," Nop grumbled, her head sinking into poofed feathers.

"Right. So, any questions?"

"No, sir," Sophie answered.

Louis grinned. "If I, through no fault of my own, of course, happen to-"

"I will leave your ass in jail," Irik said flatly.

"Understood."

Nop's feathers had flattened out, and she was staring at Irik in what Marie guessed was mild horror. "You can't-"

"Sure I can."

She was stunned into silence, and Marie finally figured out why Ebba seemed to be such good friends with Irik.

Shaking her shock off, Nop asked, "Are you ready to depart?"

"Yes," Sophie and Louis answered.

"Good. Off you go," Irik said.

A blue glow surrounded them, and Marie was left alone with the two ravens.

"Will you be staying here?" Nop asked her.

"If it's allowed," Marie answered.

"It is. Would you like to see what they do?"

Marie knew everything was going to be recorded for any rostari who cared to watch the event, but she shook her head. She'd rather hear Sophie explain what happened when they returned.

Nop bobbed. "If you need anything, call out." With that, she hopped back towards the wall.

Irik paused after one step and looked thoughtfully at Marie. "You knew Louis is the reason that rule exists, right?"

"Aye, I know they got arrested in Venice," Marie said.

"Damn, I was hoping to fill you in."

Nop was watching from the wall. "You shouldn't gossip."

"Is it gossip if she's agreed to marry the man? I'd say it's valuable information."

"You've clearly spent too much time around Ebba," Marie decided, moving to lean next to the door.

Irik froze ever so briefly, then laughed it off. "What can I say? They don't give us nearly enough vacation time. Right, Nop?"

Nop begrudgingly agreed as they vanished into the wall. Marie smiled, wondering if she should ask about that reaction.

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