Macha was moving around the deck as if it was the streets of his hometown. Every corner was a hideout, every passenger a trouble. He’d preferred to stay the whole day in lower-class cabins, goofing on his bunk bed, but the place, crowded by stinky noisy men, was unbearable. He had paid for the cheapest and thus save as much as possible, but immediately, after a sleepless night worrying about not being assaulted by any of the dozens of strangers around, he had realized that for his safety, it would have been better one room of a four. Now, with everything booked, it was already too late.

Half asleep, he shuffled across the starboard deck of the breathtakingly immense vessel. The liner, called The Jungle, was, like the Ballerina, a hybrid. But the similarities with the catamaran ended there. The ship, longer than one hundred and fifty feet, was a wonder with three long fully square-rigged masts and an auxiliary steam engine powering two sets of paddle-wheels that moved a hull containing state rooms, lounges, canteens and storage areas, at speeds that no other ship in the entire Ring could match.

Macha headed for the ship’s stern, drawn by the pistol shots. The day before, he had seen how they prepared the practice area for a vendor who had got permission to promote his weapons. Unfortunately, the weather hadn’t been good, but now with a flat sea and clear skies, the performance had already started.

Out of the corner of his eye, he did not miss the interested look of two Parni men whom he had already crossed paths three times during the morning. Moving around the ship all day, it was not strange that he would end up seeing the same faces from time to time, but the said men were giving Macha a warning feeling he learned to never ignore. He took a turn on a corridor through the center decks with decided steps that, although fast, they did not seem hasty. Unless someone followed him, no one would notice his random turns around the ship.

The thought reminded him of the only passenger who had really been following him during those days. Before he reached the firing range, he glanced over his shoulder, seeing Em nowhere. It was strange because the old man had been clumsily spying on him from a distance since they left Ujan. The sea dog was perhaps a great captain, but surely he knew nothing about stealth, he thought.

Before a barrier of pallets and sacks, a large crowd of onlookers was gathering to see a spectacle heavily guarded by armed Tampra marines. The shooting area, which was perhaps a third of the ship’s stern, had been completely emptied and in the background, tied to the railings of the ship, there was a squared wooden structure with metal disks hanging all over.

Macha slipped between the attendees to get a better view from the front row. In the shooter spot, one of the liner’s officers was slowly getting into an aiming stance. The bullet whistled hitting none of the targets, raising cries of disappointment from the public.

“Pity! That was six hits in a row! What a great shooter we have here!” The arms merchant, a pompous man who continually moved his arms exaggeratedly, took the weapon and raised it above his head. The gun was like Em’s, but with a shorter barrel. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the merchant continued. “This marvel is the new Utzelnik model 69. A prowess with a six shot detachable cylinder for a fast reload.. Rifled barrel to increase accuracy. Self-contained cartridges with a copper base. Powder flasks are an annoyance of the past! This beauty never jams, it never explodes!”

Seeing Macha, the vendor took a few steps closer to his side. “Young man, you seem to be a person who knows how to use a tool like this, do you dare? If you hit all ten plates, bullets are on the house! And if you hit all the pigeons afterwards, you’ll get one of these beauties for free! It’s only two pieces of ten per bullet! only one per bird!”

Macha’s eyes widened, but his head nodded side to side. A Parni nobleman who had come down from the high-class deck took off his hat and handed it to his servant. He loaded a bullet and held out his hand, waiting for another one. “A round at a time, my Lord. For safety reasons. You must understand!” said the merchant.

The nobleman turned to his companion, a woman who covered her face with a fan that matched a glamorous silk dress. “That will surely distract me.” He excused himself as if he could foresee the incoming failure.

“Quarter Gupta he ain’t hit nothin’,” whispered one sailor sitting among the sacks.

Macha would have liked to bet with the liner’s crew. He, too, would have liked to try a few shots. But the money he had was to bribe soldiers and jailers wherever Ivy was imprisoned.

The noble Parni missed the first shot. He paid for the bullet and for three more. The next two, just like the first, flew outboard, falling somewhere in the endless ocean. The last one hit the side of one of the metal plates, making it spin without control. A deed that saved his honor and amused his wife.

“Check that! It's difficult to control the power of this modern weapon, but with only a few tries, this skilled gentleman has quickly got the hang of it!”

Even if he had done no better, Macha couldn’t contain a chuckle.

As the fancy couple stepped aside, Em’s figure appeared in the distance, trying to hide in the crowd. With the morning fun ruined, Macha decided it was time to see what the captain wanted. He moved between the attendees with ease, doing his best to teach the old man how to sneak up on someone properly. He caught him unaware, leaning on a pallet with his arms crossed. The captain did his best to appear indifferent and, without taking his eyes off the targets, he spoke first. “Still wearing that Herjard jacket, uhm?”

“Why not? Most people ignore me, but some seem reluctant to come close when I’m wearing it. Not like you, sadly.”

“That’s because they fear what it represents.” Em squeezed the tobacco into the pipe and lit a match using the wood of the railing. Something that Macha tried hundreds of times after seeing him, but he’d never achieve.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Nay. But as some fear it, some hate it, and that will get you a knife on your back one of these days.”

Irritated, Macha took the jacket off and put it on top of the pale. “There, satisfied? What do you want? I suppose you didn’t board to lecture me about the way I dress.”

“Ivy is in Trampa and my boat is impounded, this liners are the fastest-”

Macha snapped his teeth and turned. “All right. See you around then.”

“Hoy, kid. Wait, wait!” Em straightened suddenly and put his eyes over him. He shook uncomfortably, his pipe moving from side to side of the mouth while his arms waved to the sound of words that did not come out. Macha watched him struggle with hidden pleasure until, after scratching a balding messy hair, he managed to talk. “Listen. I’m sorry for what I said the other day. You don’t have to... Well, to be honest with you. Ah… After what’s happened, I guess me and the girls will have to spend our lives running. It’d be better for you to stay far from our troubles, but well… that’s your decision and… uhm. Aye, just to let you know there’s still a place on my ship, if you want.”

“With a condition.” Macha said, leaning on the wood barrier, just as the captain did before. “I’ll join you only after we are back to Ujan with Ivy. While in Tampra don’t boss me around. I know what I’m doing.”

“Will you at least let me give you some advice?” Em said, leaning at his side.

Macha answered with a growl, mimicking the captain’s mannerisms. He then turned to watch the next shooter fail his first shoot. “Too much finger over the trigger.” Em said.

“How about the next one?”

Em got close enough to whisper words that smelled of tobacco. “Bad grip. He’s squeezing the gun like a coconut. I’ll bet you a cooper the first one misses.”

Macha’s lips tensed to a line as the bullet passed untouched targets. As much as the geezer got on his nerves, he felt good around him. His little grin wasn’t because he had saved himself a copper by not accepting the bet, but because of the realization that in recent days he had missed the old man.

Together, they enjoyed the shooting performances until noon. To the delight of the arms merchant, many were the ones who tried his new gun, although only one hit all the disks. The skilled shooter was a young, humble-looking boy no one would have bet a penny on except Em. Upon hitting the tenth target, the audience erupted in shouts of joy. Cries of excitement rumbled even louder when the first bird fell into the sea. The next one was luckier and after the miss, it flew away and disappeared amongst the clouds. The young shooter, visibly disappointed, was encouraged by shouts of applause from those around him and by a little grunt of acceptance from the captain.

“Never jams! Never explodes!” repeated the gun dealer for the tenth time.

“Parni-port.” Em mumbled under his breath while Macha’s belly protested for not having eaten since the night before. “Let’s go to the canteen. Mine will grumble soon as well.”

“Would you have hit all the pigeons if you had tried it?” Macha said, walking around the ship’s deck, not paying much attention to his surroundings. With the captain at his side, he felt relaxed. Safe.

Em stopped short and let pass a group of younglings who were running through the narrow corridors. “I don’t know, to be honest. I’ve never shot a bird before.”

Macha reprised his way with shock. “Never? Not even for hunting?”

“I’ve spent almost all my life on ships, kid. Not much hunting in the middle of the sea.”

The protests of his stomach continued until they reached the canteen, only stopping for good after the first bite of curry flatbreads the captain bought. “I guess you want to save your gold to bribe the guards.” He said, placing two cups of fish broth on the table. “I’m told the Amarvatti prison staff are not as corrupt as the ones far from the capital.”

“I have some old mates who work as jailers,” Macha said with his mouth full. “I’m hoping they are still there.”

“Let’s hope for that. Have you considered a plan of action in case the Geckos find out you are there?” Em’s question was clearly intended to sound complaisant. To Macha, there was no ‘in case’ with the Black Geckos. In the capital of Tampra there were hundreds of children from Rabbit’s Hole prowling the streets, and many surely still remembered him. In a matter of hours, the mob would know he was back, and in a few days, there would be thugs on every street looking for him. Macha already knew the old wolf well enough to be certain he’d considered all that points as well.

“If that happens, I’ll seek protection from the Vipers. They’re a small gang, but strong enough.” Macha watched as Em took a sip of his soup, holding back his intentions to nag about it. “What is it? Tell me before you explode.”

“Not saying you are, but to those types of people, a rat is a rat, no matter what gang critter they’d sworn allegiance to. As soon as they know why the lizards are after you, they’ll sell you out.”

“Well, I just need a day or two. It’s not like I really want to join any of those gangs, anyway.”

Em reclined on the table, crossing fingers in front of the face. “Can I suggest some ideas, kid?”

“Oh, come on, Em. Just say it. It’s not you without the carping.”

The captain raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes, but his big mustache could not hide a hint of satisfaction. “There’s someone in Amarvatii who owes me a favor or two.” He whispered. “I plan to ask her for help with Ivy, and I’m sure she can give us a hand with the lizards as well.”

“And who is that powerful person who makes you talk so gingerly? A member of the royal family, perhaps?” Macha asked, almost as a mockery.

“She is, but not from Tampra. She’s from the pirate’s royalty.”

Macha gulped in slow motion. The memory of Ced talking about the Fist of Piracy and all its remaining fingers crossed his mind. He remembered about the Harpy, a woman that terrified decent sailors and sea dogs alike, and how Ced bragged she still owed them old favors. The possibility of meeting such an infamous person gave him a freezing chill. “Are you going to ask the Mama’Thumbs for help?” he whispered.

“Nay,The Harpy would never help us with something like that. I’ll send a message to one of her daughters: The Lady of cards.”

Macha had never heard that nickname. Still, the fame of the Daughters of the Harpy was well known in the underworld, as well as their power. A power no snake or lizard would never dare to challenge. With the prospect of this possible help, he felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. A feeling that made him chuckle.

“Don’t get it wrong, kid. That woman is wild and dangerous. Getting her involved is like playing the ‘spin the bottle’ with a cocked hammer. I’d rather do business with the Geckos. They are more predictable.”

Over Em’s shoulder, Macha noticed the couple he previously saw lurking at the corners of the ship, now sitting a few tables away. “The two parni-men off the port-quarter, uhm? I’ve noticed them as well.”

Macha continued eating as if nothing was bothering him. “Do you think they are Kraken?”

“Squids never leave the safety of their big numbers. They could be greenhorns, but I bet they’re thugs from the Society of Gentlemen. I wonder why those wealthy men are interested in Lim.”

Macha shrugged. “Maybe they want some leverage over the mercenaries?”

“Uhm. Could be. We’ll find out soon.” Said Em, getting up to stretch his back. “How about we go back to the stern and try that Utzelnik model 69?”

“That’s the best idea you had so far!! I’ve been thinking all day how’d you do with those pigeons!”

“I’m not shooting any birds, son. You will.”

“What? Then we won’t win the prize!” Macha grumbled. “I hoped you could get me one of those guns.”

“I’ll get you one when you learn how to use it and, I think it is about time we start with your lessons.”