Chapter Text
“Left!”
“No, right!”
“No, you gotta tilt left now!”
J’hazi snapped. “I’m gonna crash this boat into those rocks if you both don’t shut up right now! ”
J’hazi focused back on controlling the harness that controlled the punutiy; the big mammal, oblivious to their bickering, was swimming languidly down the strong currents of Ihuykatumu, carrying their boat as if it weighed nothing. Whether by his guidance or the beast’s instinct, they managed to steer the boat between the sharp rocks jutting out from the middle of the river - if barely. The back part of the deck missed a spur by less than an arm’s length, and he knew all too well what a difference an arm could make.
“Whew!” Mugi wiped sweat from his brow, as if he, and not J’hazi, had been the one doing all the hard work. The miqo’te bit back a sharp retort. It was not Mugi’s fault that their river journey had been far from the tranquil ride it had been advertised.
“That was close. Too close,” Yuko echoed his sentiment. The girl leaned on her staff to look behind them at the rocks rapidly receding from view. “I’m going to have a few words with our tour guide as soon as we get back to Tuliyolall.”
J’hazi shuffled on his feet, wondering once more why the boat makers didn’t think it necessary to add a seat, or a railing, or any sort of feature to the helm. Surely it wasn’t efficient to just keep standing for hours on end? “I’ll remind you that you were the one who insisted on a boat ride. She said it would be much easier to go by road and climb the Flight of We Wingless.”
“And then she added that it was over dozens and dozens of flights of stairs. I’d like to still have knees by the end of our trip. That said,” Yuko had to admit, “sore knees would still be preferable to drowning. I thought you said you took boat riding lessons after your… incident.”
J’hazi harrumphed. His first stint as a helmsman had been less of an incident and more of a shipwreck. It had only been Llymlaen’s blessing that had saved him from certain death, and he had wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have to rely on the gods a second time, as very few people were so lucky - or cursed - to fall under their gaze twice. “I did - for a regular boat with a regular rudder, not this… thing.” He waved a hand in the direction of the great painted circle that surrounded the punutiy without actually touching it; the crystal triangles set into the wooden structure were still glowing blue which, at least, showed that the harness itself was still working correctly. He didn’t know how he was supposed to control the thing if it broke down. “And besides, when you rented the boat I had assumed that it would come with a helmsman!”
Yuko huffed. “That would have cost double! And she said it was all smooth riding, and the punutiy would be doing most of the work! She didn’t mention anything about big, pointy, killer rocks.”
“I don’t think she knew.”
Yuko and J’hazi looked up to Mugi, who had climbed on the deck and had put to his eyes the weird Garlean contraption that he called binoculars and J’hazi, privately, called a damn inconvenient spyglass. The boy adjusted the focus on the lenses, then put the binoculars aside to jot some notes down in his notebook. “I think those rocks fell down there recently, or were brought down by the currents after a heavy rain. In fact, if I’m not mistaken…”
Mugi repeated the previous motions a few times, looking through the binoculars, jutting down, and again, muttering calculations to himself aloud.
J’hazi shared a knowing smile with Yuko, all the animosity of their argument forgotten. They both knew how her brother could easily become engrossed in his thoughts mid-speech and forget that there were other people around him. He held a hand out to her - his good hand - and she took it in a gentle grasp. A strand of Yuko’s hair had escaped from her careful coiffure, and he reached for it with his prosthetic hand, aiming to tuck it back. Mistaking his intentions, she leaned forward into the touch, her lips slightly parting…
“There’s a storm coming. A big one. A bad one.”
Well, that spoiled the moment. Yuko took a step back and J’hazi cleared his throat, though Mugi didn’t seem to have noticed their almost-canoodling.
“So what does it mean?” he asked, “Do we have to hurry to port before it rains?”
The portly elezen jumped back on the helm platform, worry clearly etched on his usually cheerful face. “No. We have to hurry to Dock Tumu and Many Fires and warn everyone there before it comes. It’s going to be a flood.”