The Ragged Anne left port shortly after sundown, several bells past when we originally boarded. It didn’t make sense to me, waiting to leave until we could barely see where we were going, but Thuvvik explained it had something to do with how the sea rose and fell over time, which made a certain amount of sense. The river and water reservoirs would fill with rainfall and fall with drought, but it hadn’t rained at all today. But still the sea rose. When I asked why the sea rose and fell, he looked at me with what I think was confusion or perhaps pity before sighing and saying something under his breath.

  “Because of moon,” he eventually said.

  “But the moon isn’t out during the day? Normally,” I eventually added.

  “Yes, yes. But, just because you can’t see moon, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”

  That… made sense? You could often hear birds you couldn’t see. Feel magical effects from occluded sources. Just because we couldn’t see the moon during the day didn’t mean that it wasn’t present and causing something to happen.

  “But why doesn’t the moon have that effect on rivers and lakes? And how does it cause such an effect from such a large distance? The energy for a magical effect over any notable distance exponenti…”

  “Kara,” Thuvvik said, interrupting me. “These are excellent questions, yes. Questions that people have been trying to figure out for centuries. I do not know how or why it works, only that there is evidence clearly linking two together. I don’t remember all of details, not my area of expertise, but it has something to do with amount tide rises and falls is directly related to how full moon is.”

  “Ah, uh, hrmmm.” But, I had so many more questions. So many more questions that provoked. How closely were the two related? Who figured it out? How much did it vary by?

  The confusion must’ve shown on my face given the way Thuvvik sighed. With a flick of his head, he motioned behind him towards the front of the boat, where a small group of sailors were sitting around a table. “Maybe ask people whose lives depend on understanding tides. Yes?”

  I nodded and made my way towards them. It was only when I was reaching the table that I realized I didn’t know the appropriate way to ask them questions. Thankfully, I was spared the trouble as one of the sailors recognized me.

  “Ah, Kara! Come, sit,” said the man.

  “Eninald?” I asked, uncertain of the name.

  “You remembered me,” he said, preening slightly. I nodded, uncertain of what to say in response. Silence stretched for a moment before he spoke up.

  “How can I help you?”

  “I, uh,” I said slowly, feeling awkward for reasons I couldn’t explain, “Had some questions. About tides.”

  That got an odd look from Eninald and his companions. Eninald raised an eyebrow at me in curiosity.

  “How do they work?” I said, moving forward before my rapidly developing nerves could fail me. Part of me wondered if this was because of the comments earlier, but far more realistically it had everything to do with Rin’s rather ribald comments.

  “I imagine you’re looking for more than how they go in and out, rise and fall,” he stated more than asked.

  I nodded and then felt the need to elaborate. “Thuvvik said that it’s tied to the moon? I don’t understand how the moon can make the water move. Or the patterns, or really anything.” I paused and watched their faces for a moment and the confusion across them before adding a few more details. “This all started because I was curious about why we were waiting until it was dark before we left. I know there are some that can see in the dark, but I don’t see any of those races on the boat.”

  “Ship,” the assembled men corrected in unison.

  “Uh?”

  “A boat,” Eninald explained, “Is for smaller vessels that stay close to the coast or go up rivers. We’re going out onto the ocean proper, which requires something more sturdier. A ship.”

  “Ah, okay,” I said nodding, several more questions drawing to mind.

  The men exchanged a few more looks I couldn’t decipher before Eninald sighed and stood up. “This will be easier to discuss with a table. Let’s go to the navigation room.”

  His companions all let out small chuckles at that. One of them, someone close to Eninald’s age snorted with laughter. “Very sturdy table in the navigation room. But Careful!” He warned us. “The latch on that room is old and doesn’t hold well.”

  The rest of the men laughed and Eninald shook his head but I was completely confused about the implications. It was only once Eninald and I were far enough away from the group that I felt comfortable enough to ask.

  “Why are they warning about the door latch?”

  Eninald gave me a skeptical look before sighing and shaking his head.

  “Old joke,” he said. “You’re missing a lot of the knowledge that would make that make sense. Don’t worry about it.”

  That, of course, only made me worry more about what I had missed, but I did my best to put those thoughts aside.

  The navigation room was towards the back off the ship, underneath the raised area where the captain stood, moving a wooden wheel back and forth. He gave us an appraising look but didn’t stop us as we went into the room.

  The room itself was a smaller room, largely taken up by a table in the center of the room with no chairs. The left wall had shelves with scrolls laid upon it, but the other two were largely bare. As Eninald moved towards the shelves, I took a second to check the latch. It didn't seem that old, but I made sure it was firmly secured nonetheless.

  It only took a few minutes before Eninald was able to come to the table with several scrolls. There was only a few moments of searching before he unfurled one of them revealing a grid of numbers paired with pictures of the moon.

  “This is,” he said, running his finger across the top of the page. “The tidal data for Freeport. Time that the water is at its highest level, lowest level. All based on the lunar cycle.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  I looked at the characters at the top of the page and nodded given how I couldn’t read any of them. Whatever language this was in, it wasn’t Tho-myon or Quori.

  “When the moon is full,” he said pointing to the uncolored circle, “We see that the highest points for the moon are just past noon and just after midnight.”

  “Noon?”

  “Uh,” he said, pausing for a second. “Third bell?”

  Ah, so noon was a word for when the sun was at its highest in the sky. Why he didn’t just say midday like he said midnight was a question for another time.

  “And it’s always at this time when the moon is full?”

  “Always,” he agreed.

  “That certainly does show that they are related. But how does the moon cause the water to move? And where does that water come from?”

  “Other locations,” he confidently said, pulling a second table out. “This is the chart for Mulvalod. Notice how the times are exactly opposite. When the tide is high in Freeport, it’s low in Mulvalod.”

  I nodded, tracing my fingers along the charts and finding the marks he indicated. I didn’t know what they meant or why those two squiggles meant midday, but I was willing to trust he wasn’t lying to me at the moment. I’d have to ask Thuvvik for instruction in written language as well after this.

  “Okay, so they’re related,” I agreed as if I could read the scrolls before me. “But how does the moon move the water?”

  “Don’t know,” Eninald confessed. “Don’t particularly care either. All I know is that it does and that we’ve got to compensate for when it does. Tide gets too high and you can’t leave some locations. Get too low and you’ll scrape your hull on the ground if you aren’t careful.”

  “A man of practicalities,” Rin commented.

  I nodded, but wasn’t convinced. The relation was there, but until I understood the mechanism, I wasn’t fully convinced. There was something missing and it bothered me.

  “Surely someone knows how,” I eventually said.

  “Myslana knows,” he said.

  “Who?”

  He took a step back, looking confused. “You don’t know Myslana?”

  I shook my head.

  “I heard that the people of Tsuruga didn’t keep to the Gods, but I thought a human from there would.”

  I blinked, ready to defend my people before remembering that I didn’t look like a Kitsune at the moment. I was the human he was talking about.

  “Orphan,” I said after a long moment, the lie sitting uncomfortably.

  “Ah,” he said in understanding. “Apologies.”

  I nodded, uncertain of what to say and afraid of breaking the lie.

  “Myslana is the Goddess of the Stars and Travel. Many sailors worship her since the Stars are the best navigation most of us have.”

  “Most?”

  He looked sheepish for a second. “The Cartographer has her place and I offer alms at her altar when we make port as thanks for the safe travel. But she’s not the one that inspires my dreams. For that I think of Bernend.” He spared me a glance before clarifying. “The God of Learning.”

  I nodded once more, still uncertain of what to say. The silence stretched and the weight of his eyes on me started to wear.

  “Seems like a good God to have? Everyone needs to learn?”

  That caused him to tuck his lips in and stifle laughter. It took several heartbeats before it passed.

  “Yes, yes he is.”

  There wasn’t much else to be said after that. I bid Eninald a good night and made my way below to where the room that had been set aside for Thuvvik and myself was. The door was slightly ajar, revealing the small Porforokin curled up on one of the beds reading via a small hanging ball of light. He spared me a momentary glance before returning to his tome. It was a bit upsetting to be so casually dismissed, but I put it aside. This was nothing new and if I was being fully honest, I had practice of my own to be doing. Quietly, I closed the door and curled onto my mattress. It was a bit harder than normal to find my center and focus, but eventually I managed to set into a regular rhythm and started my Drawing practice. It still took me by surprise just how much easier it was than I remembered it being. Easier to pull in ambient Energy. Easier to control how and where that Energy went. Easier to hold the Energy. Easier to direct it into a Spell. There was a small complication that the light I made, the only spell I felt comfortable making in such a small and wooden space, was much brighter than I initially intended it to be. I tried to apologize to Thuvvik but he waved me off before the first word could even leave my mouth.

  Still, I focused on confining the effect, minimizing the results and by the third casting I had managed to reduce the effect to a single tiny mote.

  And so the night passed, with me practicing spells and Thuvvik reading in relative silence.

  **********************************************************************************

  I awoke slowly to a dark room and a quiet ship. I couldn’t see the sky but given that Thuvvik still slept, I imagined it was slightly before dawn. The room was still faintly lit by Thuvvik’s small light. I gave it a curious look. It was maybe half the size of a fist, which meant that it was far to small to store enough Energy to keep lit for the whole night. Which meant it had to have some form of Rune carving to help it draw from the ambient environment. Which, on something that small, meant it had to be an impressive bit of rune work. I was trying to figure out how to get a closer look at the device when I ringing sound swept through the room, causing Thuvvik to startle awake and drawing a small yip of surprise from me.

  “Apologies,” I eventually said.

  Thuvvik waved my apology off again. “Already awake. Bell far louder than you. Must be time for breakfast. Tuck your ears and lets go eat.”

  I shook myself, silently scolding myself for not having done so already. By the time Thuvvik slid from the room, somehow dressed without me noticing, I was already disguised and took the moment to get dressed in my clothes.

  No one was particularly cheery at breakfast, but given that the sun had barely crested the horizon, I wasn’t surprised. Eninald gave me a smile and a wave, but sat well away from Thuvvik and I.

  The porridge provided was bland but filling. It was only after Thuvvik finished his bowl that he gave me any further attention.

  “You have good time last night?”

  “Uh?” I managed.

  “With handsome boy who wave. Not the type Thuvvik typically go for, but I can see the appeal.”

  I blinked before I suddenly put together what Thuvvik had been implying and felt my cheeks blush.

  “Ooh, no. No. We discussed maps and the Gods. Nothing else.”

  Thuvvik’s ears conveyed a deep skepticism but he didn’t outright call me a liar.

  “If you say. Probably for best regardless. Three months to Freeport, which means if you get pregnant, it would start showing before we make port.”

  I gasped at the vulgarity. “Thuvvik, I wouldn’t… I won’t.”

  Thuvvik gave me a smile, “You say that now, but time at sea very boring. You young and hormonal. Besides, only so much time can be spent learning before you look for other… stimulations.”

  My mouth opened and closed a few times before I simply buried my face in my hands, hoping the shame of being so emotional in public would just put me out of this misery. Thankfully, Thuvvik decided to take pity on me. Or something resembling pity.

  “Come let us go practice language. Might as well get as much done while you’re still paying attention.”

  “Thuvvik!” I said, trying to keep quiet and quickly standing to follow him.

  He snorted, “Fine. You exception. But if you wrong and Thuvvik right, let Thuvvik know. Pregnancy on ship not pleasant. I have plenty of heartcord to prevent unhappy accidents. I also have silphium for after, but much less.”

  “Thuvvik!”

  That drew several curious looks and a lot of laughter from Thuvvik.