On Blue's waters

“I know. I’ve been in exactly the same position myself. I not only got you that bottle of water, Horn, but I brought you a coil of rope. It’s small, but I think it may be strong enough. It’s very hard to carry anything when you fly. It keeps pulling you down, and you’ve got to hold it with your feet.” He held up one foot in a way that very few human beings could have imitated, and I saw that his toes were as long as my fingers, and tipped with claws.

“Thank you,” I repeated. “Thank you very much.”

“I’ll get you out, or my rope and I will. But you’ll have to help us, and I’ve got to get your promise first. Your solemn oath.”

I nodded and tried to smile.

“A question.” He leveled a forefinger longer than mine; it, too, was claw-tipped. “Are you a logical, unemotional sort of man, would you say? Are you willing to follow reason wherever it takes you?”

Halting and stammering, I tried to say that I made an effort to be, and thought that I was.

“Then let’s go back. Not to the boat, we don’t have to back up that far. The other day I wanted to know why you hated me, and you explained that it was because I wanted to drink your blood, and because one of us had deceived you into thinking he was one of you up there. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.” I could not imagine what he was getting at.

“You drove me from your boat, despite the fact that I didn’t try to deceive you. If I would not drink your blood-I will pledge myself not to-would you still drive me away?”

My thirst had been quenched, but I was weak and sick. “If I could.”

“Why?”

“One of you nearly killed my son.”

His head wagged. “That wasn’t me. Haven’t you any better reason?”

“Because you drank Babbie’s blood, and would glut yourself on Seawrack’s if you could.”

“I pledge myself not to drink theirs either. I warn you, I won’t go any further. I have to eat, just as you do. Now, if I get you out, will you let me remain on board?”

Quite certain that he would never rescue me, I said that I would.

“You have a good reputation in your town. Are you a man of your word? Is your word sacred to you, even when it’s given to me?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You lack conviction. Listen to me. You are going to Pajarocu.”

My eyes must have opened a little wider at that.

“The men on the other boat told me. You’re going to Pajarocu. Acknowledge it.”

“We are trying to get to Pajarocu.”

“That’s better. You’re going to board a lander there, and fly up to the great ship.”

I nodded, and seeing that a nod would not be sufficient, said, “We’re hoping to fly back up to the Whorl, as you say. I certainly am, and I’ll take Seawrack if she wants to go and they’ll allow me to.”

The inhumu pointed to himself, his wrist backbent in a fashion that no human being could have managed. “I want to go with you. Will you help me, if I help you get out of this place?”

“Yes,” I said again.

He smiled wryly, swaying as Patera Quetzal used to. “You don’t mean it.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You’ll have to give a better pledge than that. Listen to me, Horn. I’ll do everything I can to help you get there before the lander takes off. You think I’ll obstruct you. I won’t. I’ll help all I can. We’re strong, you say. Won’t I be a strong friend to you? You praised our cunning. It will be at your service. Don’t say you don’t; trust me. You must trust me, or die.”

“I trust you,” I said, and I meant it; that is the measure of a man’s desire to live-of mine, at least. An inhumu had demanded that I trust him if I wanted to live, and trust him I did.

“Better. Will you let me go with you and help you? Will you pledge yourself to reveal my nature to no one?”

“Yes, if you’ll get me out.”

“You still don’t mean it. Do you believe in gods? Who are they?”

I rattled off the names of the Nine.

“Which means the most to you? Name him!”

“Great Pas.”

“You’re holding something back. Do you think you can trick me because I can trick you? You’re wrong, and you’d better learn that from the beginning. Which means most to you?”

It was the end of my resistance. “The Outsider. And Pas.”

The inhumu smiled. “I like you, Horn. I really do. I’m growing fond of you. Now listen to this. I swear to you by Pas, by the Outsider, and by my own god that I will not feed upon either you or Seawrack, as you call her. Neither will I take the blood of your pet hus, ever again. I further swear that there will be no trickery or double-dealing in the keeping of this oath I give, no sophistry. I will keep the spirit as well as the letter. Is that satisfactory?”

I nodded.

“Then I’ll be wasting my time with the rest, but I’m going to waste it. I further swear that as long as I’m on your boat I’ll never deceive you into thinking that I’m one of you, or try to. What more do you want me to say?”

“Nothing,” I told him.

“I’ll continue just the same. Listen to me, Horn. What does it matter to you whether I prey on your kind here or there? Is their blood more precious aboard the void ship?”

“No.”