27. Favour for a Friend

27. Favour for a Friend

Ramorran watched Hakan stride jauntily away and willed his heart to keep beating. He felt wrong-footed by this whole day, this entire town. Hakan and the others fitted in here, striding around confidently, sharing jokes, chattering to complete strangers. Ramorran simply felt unsettled, out of place. There were too many people, too much noise and bustle. He was on high alert for danger the whole time.

And then Hakan had given him silver. His share of the money the crew had made. Just like that, he was a part of the crew. A small, simple job and he was welcomed as one of them, just as important as Ozzo or Loula who had known Hakan for years. He belonged. He finally belonged. The thought should have warmed him, but it made him feel unsettled. How could it be so easy with these people when it had been impossible before, with his own tribe, with his own family? He should be happy. He was happy, but he felt a strange sense of … mourning, that he'd had to wait so long and lose so much before he'd found where he belonged.

He wanted to cling to Hakan, his rock in a storm. But that was foolish. Perhaps Hakan had even sensed it and that's why he'd left. It would do Ramorran good to get to know his new crewmates better.

He wrenched his attention back to the present, only to find those crewmates looking in the opposite direction. Ozzo levered to his feet, striding towards a young man whose wealth was proclaimed in every stitch of his fine clothes and the arrogant expression in his eyes. If he was a fellow pirate, he was a very successful one. Ramorran shrank back in his seat as he watched.

"I didn't expect to see you again so soon!" Ozzo declared as he reached the other man, slapping him on the back. Ramorran blinked. He glanced at Loula, who was smiling almost fondly as she watched the two.

The sense of being out of place swelled. Getting to know Ozzo and Loula was challenge enough; he couldn't face meeting yet more new people, pirates who were all members of a cheery family he'd only just joined.

"I'll see you back at the boat," he muttered. He escaped before Ozzo and Loula could react, unsure whether he was pleased or sad that they didn't call after him.

He wound back through the souk towards the harbour. He hoped he'd find Hakan waiting in the dhow, then hoped he didn't. Perhaps he could go for a swim. Catch some fish for dinner. He grimaced at that idea. He'd already earned his place – he didn't have to provide for the crew to be allowed to stay with them. Even he knew that was his old insecurity speaking.

Ramorran rounded a corner where the stalls were crushed close together, dodging a pair of women deep in conversation. Fabric brushed his shoulder as he twisted. He stopped dead, chest tight. Hanging from the stall... How had he not noticed it before? He and Hakan must have walked right past. Had he been so distracted?

"Good day, friend." He'd paused long enough for the stallholder to spot him, a curvaceous woman with a gold-edged headscarf popping up with a happy smile that grated against Ramorran's horror at what he'd just discovered. "Do you see something you like?" Her smile widened as she followed Ramorran's gaze. "Ah, the gentleman has a discerning eye. That's just in, and exceptionally fine." Her hand reached to stroke the fur that had caught Ramorran's eye. The selkie skin displayed at a human market for anyone to gawp at.

Before he knew he'd moved, he grabbed the stallholder's wrist before she could touch. "How did you get this?" he snapped.

The stallholder blinked, registering the fury in Ramorran's tone. Her gaze flicked over him, taking in his height and breadth. "A fur trapper," she said, her tone pacifying. "It's seal skin, from the north. We're lucky to get it so far south."

Ramorran's teeth ground. It wasn't a seal skin, and luck had little to do with it. But he could hardly say so without making the woman more curious rather than less. He dropped her wrist abruptly, realising that alone probably gave too much away. "How much for it?" he ground out. He couldn't walk away and leave the skin just hanging there, for someone to buy. For someone ... the idea made him sick ... to cut into pieces to line a collar or a coat.

The stallholder smiled. The expression was less perky than it had been, but the prospect of a sale brightened her amber gaze nevertheless. She stated her price.

Ramorran laughed.

"It's exceptional quality. You won't find its like anywhere in Gabalnu," she protested, as though his laughter had been a slight against her goods.

The sound had been a reflex. The price was simultaneously far out of his reach and insultingly cheap given what it was. Ramorran huffed. He was well aware it was one of its kind. He halved the price she'd asked, since that would be covered by the coins in his pocket.

The stallholder gave a gasp, feigning shock at his offer. "It's worth far more," she declared.

He couldn't argue, so he just watched, waiting for her counter-offer. She made it. He responded with the sum total of his current wealth. "That's my final offer," he stated when the stallholder huffed.

She repeated how rare and remarkable the fur was. "Then find someone willing to pay your inflated price." Ramorran braced himself and began to walk away, slowly so she could call him back.

"Very well!"

He turned.

"You drive a hard bargain," she chided, half-cross, half-admiring. "I'll wrap it for you."

"Don't bother." He was tall enough to unclip it himself, rolling it gently, feeling another pang when he realised the size of it. Not even fully grown. A youth's skin. Poor kid must be terrified. He handed over the money and left with the bundle under his arm.

Now, to figure out how to get it back to its owner.

He headed for the harbour. His heart sank when he examined the markings. Unless he was mistaken – possible with the passage of time – he thought it belonged to Perie. Had he caused another child of his tribe to leave home and come to harm? He couldn't risk returning to the caves a third time. He had to hope Perie was close by; she'd surely do all she could to find it rather than returning home empty-handed.

When he reached the harbour, a quick glance showed Emancipation to be unoccupied. He left a note saying he'd be back soon and walked onwards to the headland where the tamed waters met the wild sea. He found a spot where rock outcropped above the waves, difficult enough to reach to discourage anyone walking by on chance. He sat down, settled the skin on his lap, glanced around to ensure no one was near, and began to sing.

The dusk sky was dark gold, sun bisected by the horizon when Ramorran heard a reply. Soft and far distant. And full of fear. It was the work of a moment to return to the beach, shrug out of his clothes and run into the waves.

Perie was clinging to a rock half a mile offshore. Her scared face and wide eyes made his heart ache. She looked exhausted, dark shadows beneath her eyes. "You?" Surprise overcame her fatigue when Ramorran appeared before her. "I thought you were dead!"

Ramorran pulled himself out of the waves. He was pleased Wengar and Vonda must have decided to cover their backs rather than admit the truth. "I escaped." He might as well confess the whole. "I had help."

"And you found my skin. Thank you, thank you. I feared it was gone forever!"

Ramorran offered her the skin respectfully. "Did you come after me?"

She stared at him in puzzlement, "Why would I come after a dead man? No, I'm curious. The old folks talk so scarily about land-dwellers. I wanted to see for myself."

Ramorran's heart sank. "You need to be careful. Land-dwellers aren't always safe to be around."

"I know, I know." Her tone was so impatient, Ramorran wondered if she considered him one of the ‘old folks'. His lips twitched.

"You must take care of your skin," he told her as sternly as he could manage.

"I know that, too." She ducked her head again, clutching her skin to her chest, staring at the waves. He thought she might slip into the sea without another word. He wouldn't try to stop her if she did.

"It was my own fault," she admitted. When she looked up, her fatigue and fear had eased, making way for a mischievous expression. Ramorran's heart ached again, because he recognised that look. "I wanted to see land-dwellers for myself. Especially after what happened with you, and the attack on the tribe. I tried not to be noticed, but someone spotted me and they smiled instead of attacking me. They were friendly even though I was a stranger, and they were so unlike what the old folks say that I wanted to spend more time with them. We talked and talked, and they invited me to a dance and I had so much fun I forgot to watch the tide. I returned to the beach just in time to see a sailor hooking my skin onto their boat." She gestured in the direction Ramorran had come. "I followed them here, but I wasn't quick enough to catch them up, and I ventured into the town but it was so noisy and busy, I didn't dare stay any longer – and how was I even going to find my skin in a huge place like this?" She shuddered. "I was starting to worry that Wengar and all the stuffy olds were right."

"They're not right," Ramorran said firmly. Perie reminded him of himself and he tried to think what he would have wanted to hear when he was her age. "You're curious, and that's good. Don't try to change," he told her. "But do take care of yourself. It's the same as in the tribe – some people are lovely, while some you're best to steer clear of."

Perie nodded. Her attention sharpened. "Why are you here? How did you get away?"

"I'd rather not say." He swallowed. It was a lot to set on young shoulders, but… "Would you mind not telling anyone you've seen me?"

Perie's eyes darted over his face. "Tell them I saw a ghost? Why would I do that?" She grinned conspiratorially. "I'll keep your secret."

His heart ached. "Thank you."

She tilted her head. "It's not a problem. Don't you deserve to live a happy life just like anyone?"

The truth of that ran through him like a wave. Didn't he? He hugged Perie. "Thank you."

She smiled wider, hugging him back. "A favour should always be repaid," she told him, clutching her skin close. "Now, I'd best hurry back. Ma will be furious as it is."

"Take care."

"Yeah, yeah." Perie shifted to her selkie form and slipped into the waves. Ramorran watched her head bob on the surface until she glanced back in farewell, then dived under the night-dark waves.

Ramorran followed her into the water but he headed back towards the lights of Padansut. He knew where to find his home: wherever Hakan was. Warmth ran through him at the thought, a combination of reassurance and truth. It was fortunate he'd found the selkie skin that needed its owner, but he was an idiot for letting himself feel so unsettled he'd run away. Hakan and the crew were his family now. Hakan had helped him secure his skin twice, as well as saving him from certain death. Ozzo had joined him on their hunt for pearls, and Loula … well, Loula hadn't stabbed him. What more did he need to believe he belonged? Some pirates should be steered clear of while others were lovely. It was past time he placed his trust with people who deserved it.