The smith hesitated, then nodded. He drew a stiff rolled map from his belt pouch, edges sweat stained and smoke scented.
Radeon spread it over a dry patch of plank between them while Fay watched, her legs throbbing and her anger banked behind her teeth.
"We're at the southern tip of the Great Requiem Griefwaters."
Radeon and Fay knew the name. A river that ran on and on, deep green and black, mottled with cold still lakes.
Folks who swam its waters never came back alive. Those who drank from it spoke of murmurs in their skull. Regrets of the drowned. Pleas that never stopped.
The master smith, oblivious to their thoughts, spoke.
"A man on a good horse would ride a full day to reach it," the old smith said. "For the likes of us, it's but a quarter that road."
"Appreciate it," Radeon said.
While the man turned to leave, he gave Fay a look of concern.
'Bodies break. Her heart better not.'
Fay did not answer. The pain in her legs was there and sharp, yet it was not what held her.
What pinned her tongue was the sight of him working with that same steady calm. She watched his fingers tie a clean knot and wondered where he found such strength.
A small part of her wanted to ask away, to let her know and hear the secrets he kept within him.
Fay tried to help, but her body dragged like wet cloth, her face wincing in every turn.
"Fay." Radeon met her eyes. "You did well back there."
"I… I only clung to you, Senior, but… thank you."
"Show me your leg."
Fay hesitated, then shifted closer. His hand closed around her calf. His skin felt a little hot.
She had never let a man touch her like this before. His touch was new to her, and it made her throat tight.
Radeon took out a fan of thin needles in his sleeves. Heat rose along them as his qi woke.
With a flick of his fingers the needles leapt. Tens of silver slivers bit into her bruised flesh in neat rows.
Not deep. Just enough. Her muscle loosened under them. The pain dulled, then eased back.
The ugly eggplant bloom of the bruise began to pale at the edges, as if a careful hand were rubbing color away.
"I-It already hurts less, Senior Radeon… your technique is truly remarkable."
"It's nothing," he said. "We eat first."
They chewed in silence. Jerky wiped as clean as they could make it. Hardtack softened on by their tongue with sips of thin water.
Around them the captain's crew heaped their findings. Crates thumped down in rough stacks.
Fay counted without meaning to. Ten. Twenty. More. By the time the men stopped there were over forty boxes piled.
Radeon watched the piles grow. His gaze sharpened. Then it went distant. He focused on the men instead of the goods.
Threads. Fine pale lines seemed to stretch from him toward the nearest sailors. Then more. Thin as hair.
They gathered around each man like cobweb. With each slow blink the threads thickened.
They became cords, then dark ropes that twisted and knotted.
In Radeon's mind they were barbed vines from some old world forest, each coil wrapping tight around a soul and tugging.
A shiver ran down Radeon's spine. He saw it travel from neck to shoulder.
His face stayed carved and cold, yet his fingers curled once on his knee as if they wanted to grab hold of something solid.
Fay swallowed hard. She did not know what he saw or how far ahead he was peering.
She only knew that whatever waited on those tangled paths was close. Close enough that when he finally looked back at her she understood without a word.
Every second from now on would matter.
"Fay." His voice was heavy now, flat, no joke. "Put weight on that leg."
She pushed herself up and took a few steps. The bruise complained, yet her foot found the planks.
"It still aches, but… it seems I can walk on it, Senior." she said.
Radeon reached into his sleeve. A violet pill sat in his palm. He crushed it between thumb and forefinger. Bitter dust clung to his skin. He held out a quarter of it to her.
"Drink it."
She did not hesitate. The dust hit her tongue and warmth slid down her throat.
Her fatigue went away like a lie. Muscles that had dragged a moment ago felt light, as if she had just risen from a full night's sleep.
Yet even with that comfort, Fay could not stop staring at his face. It had gone from cool to carved. Serious. Stoic in a way that made her stomach knot.
"When it's time, you run for the river," he said. "You can swim it. Trust me. The river's not your enemy."
"S-Senior, but the records say otherwise…"
"Fay. Books aren't gospel." His eyes flicked toward the big man and his guards. "With me. There."
He led her along the broken spine of the wreck, to the shadowed back of the ruined spirit ship where the planks still stood higher than a man. The noise of the search dulled behind them.
"Check your pockets," Radeon said.
"W-What pockets?" she asked, uncertain.
"Inside the cloak."
Fay slipped her hand under the inner lining. The cloth was thick and dark. Sight failed, so she trusted her fingers.
They found a seam that should not be there. A small bulge, no larger than her palm, slick and hard as river stones.
She pressed and knew at once. Spirit stones. Hundreds.
"H-How…?" she whispered.
"Check another pocket."
She searched again. Another hidden fold. Another tight nest of cold weight that made her wrist ache. Hundreds more. Her throat went dry.
"H-How many pockets are in here, Senior?"
"About fifty," Radeon said. "Half that count already full."
Fay stared at him, cloak heavy on her shoulders, as the number sank in. The absurd mass of it. The fortune she was wearing like common wool.
Radeon watched her face and let out an amused chuckle.
"Now, you think I'll let you drop all that in a river?"