The ocean was as still as glass, save for the drip drip drip of blood into the wine-black water. A great fat seagull lay upon the broken sail like a lump of tar, the sun rising behind it making it impossibly dark, and yet she couldn't take her eyes off of it. It flickered and wavered in front of the sun, like the shimmer of water off of the courtyard stone in the middle of the summer. It hurt her eyes, but she couldn't stop looking at it. Except for the dull thudding of her heart in her chest, it was like time had stopped. The sun hadn't moved at all, but sat still, perfectly eclipsed by the bird. On the splintered and ruined railing, and on the shattered fragments of the deck, other seagulls were landing and looking at her curiously, or perhaps just hungrily. But none of them would land on the broken sail. He sat alone there, and watched her.

It had been an unpleasant few days.

You realize, of course, what a risk the hierarch is taking with you!

She flinched from the venom in his words, but she couldn't say anything.  Even if she could have, it wouldn't have been safe. So she bit down on her tongue and looked carefully at her feet as the advisor stalked back in front of her, the metal studs in his shoes click-clicking against the tile floor. Outside in the trees, the frogs were chirping, and she desperately wished she were out there in the sticky mid-summer air instead of inside this palace, jade-cooled and dry and filled with people. A sharp snapping sound shocked her back to attention. He'd rapped his stick against a pillar to get her attention.

It's bad enough that you've got even a sixteenth of ichor in you, he said, looking over her like something he'd stepped in, let alone that it was such a... disreputable... god in the first place.

I couldn't pick my own grandparents, let alone theirs! She wanted to scream, but she knew the rules of the game. Swallow your tongue, dig your nails into your palms until they bleed, but never say anything in reply. There's nothing she could say in reply.

But after that... incident... with your sister. He let his breath out between clenched teeth, a ridiculous sounding whistle, and then began pacing back and forth, faster than before, working himself into a frenzy. You should be on your hands and knees right now that she hasn't ordered your entire family cut into pieces and thrown into the ocean! Who knows what other monstrous treacheries are lurking within you, hmm? Thieves, assassins, heretics – perhaps you're even anathema yourself!

I serve the hierarch, she offered, struggling to keep the quiver out of her voice.

WHAP went the stick against the column again.

As must we all! Like a teacher threatening a student, he waved the stick in her face. And she has found a way for you to serve, deserve it or not, believe it or not.

Are all of these histrionics truly necessary, Vyers?

Everybody who thought they'd been alone in the room stopped breathing. The silence was broken by the sound of silk rustling across the marble floor.

On your knee, dog! hissed Vyers over his shoulder, but she'd dropped to both of them as soon as she'd recognized the voice. The hierarch, in person, in the flesh. Not waving at the crowds from her balcony, not giving the blessing after offering the annual sacrifice , but here, in the room, close enough to touch. With her! The room swam in front of her eyes.

Please, Vyers, said the hierarch, leave us for a minute.

Hierarch?

She felt the hierarch's hand on her shoulder. It had to be the hierarch, it was her dress pooling on the floor in front of her, but she couldn't look up, she mustn't look up.

Hierarch! Hierarch I must-

You must WHAT, Vyers? It was the same voice as before, but there was a steel edge in it this time. The grip on her shoulder momentarily tightened, and she gasped with pain. The hierarch's refined and courtly hands held a surprising strength.

... I must obey. Vyer's voice, so arrogant and proud before, was now sulking and diminished. She watched as his feet turned around, and carried him out of the room. The clicking echoed for a few more steps, and then it was gone as well. The room was still.

Please, said the hierarch, and the steel was gone from her voice, won't you look at me, An-Tze?

An-Tze shook her head. The hierarch sighed.

You know, even with dragon's blood, I'm not so terribly different from other people.

The hand lifted from her shoulder, and the hierarch elegantly took a seat on the floor. An-Tze continued to keep her gaze fixed respectfully right directly down at the tiles.

Just like your family has that troublesome god's blood through them, but you're not monsters or demons, just people.

Thank you, Hierarch.

An elegant hand waved the thanks away like an annoying insect.

Your divine ancestor had three sons, I believe?

... Yes, Hierarch, three sons and fifteen daughters.

Well, the daughters don't concern me, she laughed, although that's quite a panoply of them! No, it's the sons, and his second-born son, I believe. He took up and left to the north, did you know that? Without waiting for a reply, she continued. Without people there who knew his spotted pedigree, he made quite a name for himself. So much so that when their old king died, they put his grandson on the throne. Imagine that! She laughed again, a sound like fine silver bells in a festival wind. I'm told he wasn't even a lord of the earth, but he had three or four high-bred terrestrials in his court, who bowed and scraped when he told them to! And his son, well – they say he's twice as grand as his father, and four times as grand as his great-grandfather.

An-Tze could hear the frown somehow.

That's the part that worries me, An-Tze. I understand that he's issued a levy on his peasants, and there's been shipments of high-quality jade flowing to that island. It's too good for industrial use, far too good for decorative use, but the right quality for weapons.

Hierarch?

I'd like you to investigate this for me, An-Tze. she said, and lifted herself elegantly to her feet again.

I'd like for you to go to visit your cousin, and see how he is, and remind him of my good will. Perhaps he's simply arming himself against pirates, as I understand the sea has been thick with them of late, and I am worried for no reason. But... she let the word hang in the air, and paused, thoughtfully.

I serve the hierarch, An-Tze said again, doggedly.

Very good. A smooth and perfumed hand patted her hair.

You won't go empty-handed of course – I could hardly send you to a king without fitting tribute! A chest of fine red jade, seal pelts, and a beautiful jewel-bird, I think. That should be a pleasant change of sound for him, over the sound of his dragon-blooded councilors' bickering.

The click-click of Vyer's heels interrupted the moment.

Ah, Vyers, With a rustle, the hierarch turned, and An-Tze dared to look up at her back. We were just finishing up here, An-Tze and I. Vyers stared at An-Tze with daggers in his eyes, but with a perfectly neutral voice said

Very well, Hierarch. Shall I escort the – your guest out?

She can find her way on her own quite without your tender care, Vyers, said the hierarch, and she began to leave. You and I must gather things for her errand.

The sound of beating wings woke her up. She shifted her eyes and tried to focus. There, on the edge of the great hole in the deck, she could see a pair of seagull squabbling over something red. Dangling off of the shattered wood around the crater, there was more red, and some torn cloth. It was a body, probably. Or what remained of one. She felt a little grateful – it seemed like the seagulls were going to eat whatever was left from the top down. She was probably safe down here for a while – birds didn't like to go down into enclosed spaces, right?

Her lips were dry, and she ran her dry tongue across them.

The great black seagull hadn't moved, hadn't joined in the fight that was now attracting more gulls – it sat still, corona behind it, and kept a fixed, level gaze down into the bottom of the ship. Upon her.

Up! Up!

Rough hands were shaking her. She struggled back into consciousness, and blinked the sand out of her eyes. It was one of the sailors – even in the moonlight she could see the glitter of sweat standing out on his forehead like a crown of stars. There was an urgency in his voice, and he shook her again.

You, hey! Up!

I- An-Tze yawned in his face, rudely but beyond her control. What's happening? What's going on?

Foxes, said the sailor, looking quickly over his shoulder and back to her.

Pirates? Suddenly she was more awake than if he'd thrown a bucket of water over her. He shook his head impatiently.

He shook his head impatiently. Maybe pirates, maybe smugglers, maybe soldiers. Maybe maybe! Black sails, muffled oars, no lights. Very fast. You fight?

An-Tze shook her head. The sailor rolled his eyes.

Ballast to the hold, he snapped, letting go of her shoulder and turning to leave.

She rolled herself off of the bench, and stood up, swaying a little. Or maybe that was the ship swaying under her? What?

He waved with one hand over his shoulder – the other, she realized, was holding a heavy cutlass. Can't fight, just ballast! Go hide into the down or maybe die!

She understood now. She dashed across the deck, and rounded the corner of the ship's tower. On the fore, several of the sailors and workers stood at the ready – a few with long axes, a few with heavy clubs, and one carefully wrapping heavy rods with tarry cloth. Firebombs. She yanked the door open, slipped inside, and slammed the door shut behind her.

Inside, it was completely black. The ship had been well-sealed, and not even a glitter of light came through the beams. A sudden bubble of panic welled up in her – get out get out get OUT – but she swallowed it down. She couldn't fight, it was true. Her family hadn't even been allowed to bear weapons since she was about… three? Was it that long ago?

Muffled by the door, she heard a crunch, and surprised screams from the deck. Then suddenly it was all clashing and snapping sounds, with the occasional indistinct WHUFF sound and crackle of fire. The tarsticks, probably. She continued to grope her way through the darkness deeper into the belly of the ship. The cargo had been packed tightly, and there was barely room for her to squeeze between the crates and sacks, but she could remember where hers was – at the very back, at the very bottom of the ship.

A precaution, Vyers had said shortly when she'd watched heavy crate after heavy crate come onto the ship after them. If the sailors knew what was in those chests, they'd take it for themselves and throw you overboard. That's needless loss.

She sucked in her stomach as much as she could and pushed through a narrow gap. A tight fit, but a fit. She continued to worm her way deeper into the cargo, but the sounds on the deck weren't getting quieter. If anything they were getting louder. WHUFF, crackle crackle. Muted shrieks and curses. THOK she could hear in the boards – somebody must have hit the deck. Creaking, moaning. A muffled chirp.

She stopped moving and concentrated. The chirp again.

The jewel-bird! So close to her! She reached out and touched a canvas cover, with some thin rail underneath it. The cage! She'd found the tribute, which meant she was about as deep in as she could get. If this wasn't safe-

WHAM, said the door.

Light threw crazy shadows through the maze of boxes she'd just finished crawling through. She pulled her legs up tight under her, folding herself into a little ball and praying, praying to the sun and the moon.

Told-you, I! called somebody from the deck. Not warriors, but fat cargo-men!

There was a long whistle. Fat, and fat! A second voice laughed. Jade, eh? Gold, eh?

Even if it's just potatoes, it's a fat haul. Three of them, at least. The tyrant pays well for provisions these days, they're saying.

Shut up now, said the first voice. Find us the bird, quickly.

An-Tze's heart was almost in her mouth.

It'll still be there in daylight! the third voice said.

We may not, snapped the first voice, if we leave it too long! Find us the bird!

Then there was a sound of wood sliding on wood. They'd begun to move the crates, An-Tze realized. They'd killed everybody on the ship, and they were looking for the thing she was exactly next to.

SHFFFF, WHUD. CRACK.

Just powder! Keep the torch back, keep the torch back!

SHFFFF, WHUD. CRACK.

She lifted up the corner of the canvas. The bars were surprisingly wide-set. She slid carefully through, and lowered the canvas cloth again.

There was a surprised muffled chirp, right next to her head, and she startled. She hadn't actually seen the bird when they'd loaded it onto the ship, but now she was next to it, she could feel its size. The cage wasn't oversized for the bird – there barely would have been enough room for the bird to turn around, before she'd come inside. It must have been as tall as a horse. She shifted, and the bird shifted, and she felt something rough rasp against her arm. Ropes?

Are you tied down? she whispered.

RRRP

SHFFF, WHUD. CRACK.

Is it because you're dangerous? Gears were turning in An-Tze's brain.

RRRP

She started scrabbling around on the ropes, looking for the knots. The bird shied away from her touch, but there wasn't anywhere else to go in the cage. RR! RRR RRR it complained as she fumbled in the darkness with the knots. Found one, but it was pulled tight. She dug in with her fingernails and pulled the mass every direction she could come up with. Bent down and took some of the rope between her teeth to pull. It tasted like stale sweat and cinnamon. Cinnamon?

SHFFF, WHUD. CRACK. The lights on the canvas were getting more regular. There were fewer crates between them. She was running out of time. She looked up and saw the bird's head – its beak had been tied shut too. The whole bird had been trussed up as tightly as if they'd been about to cook it. Why?

The light at least made the knots a little easier to understand. She set back to work, palms wet with sweat. The heat of the bird next to her, the stale air of the hold, and the countdown she could hear outside. She wiped her hands absently on the bird, which complained again, but didn't have any options. Sweat.

SHFFF WHUD. CRACK.

The knot came undone. She began to try to untangle the bird, but the stupid animal shied away again, pressing itself against the opposite wall of the cage, pinning the ropes in place. She desperately pulled, and the bird swayed and vainly tried to flap its wings. That pushed it away from the bars a little, and the rope gave a little more. Inch by inch.

SHFFF WHUD. CRACK.

They'd run out of shadows. She could see the flicker of the light against the canvas.

We've found it!

Wait!

An-Tze froze. The bird hopped from foot to foot impatiently.

You, you in the cage! The third voice was trying very hard to keep calm. You need to stop, right now.

An-Tze stayed frozen in place.

You haven't touched the ropes, have you? There was a definite edge to the question now.

Very slowly, she began to reach up to the bird's beak, and the binding there. The rope was dusty red, she realized. It wasn't just the hemp rope of everything else in the hold, it was a special rope. Now that she was thinking about it, the whole place smelled like cinnamon. Cinnamon ropes? Why were there cinnamon ropes?

Stop her! yelled somebody.

A blade slashed through the canvas, and the bird flapped in alarm, smashing An-Tze's back against the wall, and she wheezed for breath. But her grip on the beak-binding rope hadn't released. The bird twisted its head back, and she felt the rope slip.

Another slash, and a great section of the canvas fell away. Now she could see everything.

White powder pooled all around the crates, which had each been axed open in the search. A man with a hatchet standing in front of the cage, a desperate terror in his eyes. A great… lizard-like thing, standing at the door, torch high in the air, head tilted with one eye fixed on her and the bird with equal intensity. A woman between the two, cutlass slipping in nerveless fingers.

The rope slipped and fell from around the bird's beak. In the stillness of the moment, it shook its head, finally free, and she could see that one of its jewel-bright eyes had been ruined, an old scarred mess marring the perfect white feathers.

Then it opened its beak and sang a song like the world cracking in half.

+++

A SORRY LITTLE END FOR A SORRY LITTLE WOMAN

She blinked, and struggled back into consciousness. She must have dozed off. It can't have been for long though – the great black seagull still sat there, sun at its back, casting a shadow darker than anything she could remember. Darker than the hierarch's hair, darker than the hold, darker than the world had gone after she'd released-

YOU KNOW THAT YOU WERE NEVER MEANT TO RETURN, DON'T YOU

It wasn't the voice that had woken her up, it was the smell. Despite her weakness, her nose wrinkled in disgust. It smelled like mold and rotting meat, all bundled up in one. She turned her head heavily to one side of the ruined deck. There, sprawled across the deck, outside of the shadows, was a seagull, blown open by the heat of the sun and the rot of death.

THE BIRD WAS TO KILL THEIR TYRANT, AND TO KILL HIS COURT, AND TO BRING THE  BUILDING DOWN

Not one seagull. Several.

A SORRY LITTLE WOMAN INDEED, WHOSE ENTIRE LIFE WAS JUST TO DELIVER DEATH ON BEHALF OF SOMEBODY ELSE

All of them.

The bottom of the ship was a charnal house.

AND SHE COULDN'T EVEN MANAGE THAT

The black seagull lifted from the sail and flapped awkwardly, almost drunkenly, down into the hold, and she realized that it was dragging the sun behind it. No, that couldn't be the case. But it landed on her knee, and she could see the sky above her, but the glow was still coming from behind it. This close she could see, the bird wasn't black, just overpowered by the corona.

AH WELL IT'S A ROTTEN WORLD ISN'T IT AN-TZE

Who are you?

SHOVED AROUND ONE WAY AND ANOTHER YOUR WHOLE LIFE, A WORTHLESS POWERLESS WOMAN, FROZEN IN THE CHAINS OF HIERARCHY

The seagull's eyes glittered.

SHE LIED TO YOU, AN-TZE. YOU HAD NO COUSIN ON THAT THRONE. YOUR COUSINS MET WRETCHED ENDS WHEN THEY LEFT THE ISLAND. YOU'RE THE LAST WRETCHED SURVIVOR OF YOUR ENTIRE WRETCHED LINE NOW.

No-

YOU CAN'T OUTRUN YOUR BLOOD, AN-TZE.

The hold was beginning to glow. She could see more clearly now. Where was that light coming from?

AND LITTLE GOOD IT DOES YOU. WHERE'S YOUR DIVINE ANCESTOR, I WONDER? DO YOU THINK HEAVEN EVER LOOKED DOWN AND TOOK PITY ON THE MISERABLE WHELPS SHE LEFT SCRAMBLING IN THE DUST?

DEAD, DEAD, DEAD. ALL OF THEM. HEAVEN DIDN'T CARE, CREATION DIDN'T CARE.

Who are you?

AH, and the seagull seemed to straighten up, THEY SAY DEATH IS THE GREAT EQUALIZER, DON'T THEY? AND I'M HERE TO MAKE YOU AN OFFER, AN-TZE. WORTHLESS, POWERLESS, AN-TZE.

THINK ABOUT WHAT HEAVEN'S DONE FOR YOU, AN-TZE. THINK ABOUT WHAT OTHERS HAVE DONE FOR YOU. HOW WOULD YOU LIKE THE OPPORTUNITY TO DO UNTO THEM?

A great circular wound seemed to blossom on the seagull's head, weeping red. It was an anathema's mark.

An-Tze stared. Then slowly she began to reach out her hand to the bird. It leaned forward, the blood dripping, to meet her fingertips. And then

NO!

A brilliant flash, and the seagull disappeared with a shriek. She looked down, dumbly. She was glowing. She was the light in the bottom of the ship.

Absently, she reached up and touched her head. It was burning hot.

A door creaked. She sat up suddenly with a strength she hadn't had a minute ago and turned, just in time to see the door in the bottom of the ship close.

The door in the bottom of the ship. Impossible. Underneath her was just water. She knew that.

And yet, there was a woman there, in elegant gold robes, brushing the dust of travel off of her sandals. She stared, and the woman started, and smiled apologetically.

It's a disgusting way to travel, you know?

She didn't know. The gold woman finished dusting off, and offered her hand. She took it dumbly, and felt herself pulled to her feet. The whole world felt like it was spinning.

So! Good to meet you finally, sister. I'm Wheel of Surpassing Vitality, a chosen of journeys, although I suppose you could have figured that out. No, wait, you couldn't have, you don't know about us yet do you?

She stared. Wheel clicked her tongue, and looked around the mess, wrinkling her nose.

It seems like you've had a pretty rough time of it out here, haven't you? Well, you're off the grid now, sister. Ready to begin your whole new life?

… why?

I'm sorry? Wheel's brow wrinkled.

Why is this happening?

Wheel shrugged. It's part of the plan, that's all any of us know. You have astrologers down here right? Don't you ever look at the stars? It's obvious when you know what to look for.

A plan. She looked around at the wreckage and carnage around her, and gestured.

Why did this happen, then?

Wheel shrugged again, a little more impatiently. Collateral damage, I guess you could call it? Some people just aren't born under the right stars, and that's all there is to it. She reached down and cracked a second door open. Beyond it, there lay a great blackness, with white spiraling clouds and twinkling spots like jewels. Like stars.

If I hadn't been on this ship, they wouldn't have had to die.

Wheel forced a smile, and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

DO YOU THINK HEAVEN LOOKED DOWN AND SAW YOU, AN-TZE?

You're taking all of this a little personally, and you don't really need to. Your heart's a little weak, I suppose.

IT'S A ROTTEN WORLD, ISN'T IT?

A consequence of peace, I suppose.