Tress shivered. Did she really think she could do what those capable sailors had failed to do? What was she thinking? Why was she even here? She was a sham of a captain, playing dress-up.
Granted, Tress wasn’t giving herself enough credit—please act surprised—as she’d come quite far, all things considered. And it’s true that numerous members of the king’s court hadn’t managed to survive their first encounter upon the Midnight Sea. But then, you’ve met at least one member of the king’s court: he was the handsome fellow in the early part of the story with both the jaw and the intellect of a marble bust. So, you know, maybe they didn’t set the highest standard.
Regardless, Tress was suddenly very uncertain of herself. She fled below, to the familiar hallway of the middle deck. She passed her old room, and found herself nostalgic for a couple weeks earlier. Days when she’d sat reading about spores while listening to the comforting footsteps above. Those footfalls had sounded so confident. Random, but somehow still rhythmic. Beats indicating a song the crew all knew and played together.
Now she was in charge. The one everybody was confident in was her.
She approached Dr. Ulaam’s office and was let in after a quick knock. She found him inspecting his hand, which had grown a sixth finger. Tress sighed in relief. Finally a normal and familiar sight.
“Tress!” he said, trying out a ring on the finger. “I’m pleased by the visit! Have you reconsidered my offer?”
“Thank you, but no,” she said. “I’m rather attached to all of my toes.”
“Everyone is, dear. That’s why the Father invented scalpels. But now, you look distraught. Here, sit. Let me boil some water.” She sat down as he used some odd device that worked like a hot plate, but without fire or spores to warm it up. He set a kettle on top, then turned and regarded her, grey-skinned fingers laced in front of him as he leaned against the counter. “Speak, please.”
“Ulaam,” she said, “I can’t defeat the Sorceress.”
“No, of course you can’t,” he said.
“All of the others are expecting me to. And…I’m increasingly terrified I’ll let them down.”
“Ah, well then,” he said, “can I help you with this anxiety, hmmm? I don’t even have to give you a sedative. You needn’t worry.”
“I needn’t?” she said. “Really?”
“Yes. You see, no one expects you to defeat the Sorceress. I believe they’re all expecting to die. And so, you won’t disappoint them, child, when the Sorceress inevitably murders the entire crew!”
She groaned.
“That was a joke,” he noted. “I doubt she’s capable of killing me—though she thinks she can. Even if she is right, she certainly can’t kill Hoid, even in his current state. So it will only be most of the crew she murders.”
Tress felt dizzy.
Ulaam, it should be noted, is not known for his bedside manner—as I’ve pointed out, his people lost something when they stopped being forced to imitate actual humans. I can genuinely say that without that burden, they’ve all become increasingly themselves over the decades.
That said, Ulaam is legitimately the best doctor I’ve ever met. If you are easily stressed, but need his help, I suggest you ask him to sew his mouth shut before he visits. He’ll probably find the idea novel enough that he’ll try it.
That day, however, he realized he’d said too much. Even Ulaam, a creature with the empathic talents of an angry emu, could occasionally realize when someone was in emotional distress.
“Child,” he said, “I—”
“How could you?” Tress snapped at him. “How can you sit there and not care? What is wrong with you?”
“Oh!” he said. “Hm. Ha ha. Well, no need to bite my head off. I have several saws for the purpose right over—”
“Jokes don’t help, Ulaam!” she said, standing up.
It hadn’t been a joke, mind you. He actually had three. He let her pace for a little bit, and when the teakettle began to whistle, he didn’t move to get it.
As she paced, one point stuck in her brain. He’d mentioned Hoid again. The drooling cabin boy. Ulaam was a creature of strange powers, but he saw me as someone even greater.
It wasn’t the first time Ulaam had said something like that. But this time it actually struck her.
Finally she took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” she said. “You’ve been helpful in the past, Ulaam, telling me things you didn’t have to. I shouldn’t get angry at you for not doing more. I…I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I never would have acted that way in the past.”