Chapter 1021: The Line To The Bell Boat

Ruvet brought the little rescue boat along the wall beneath the flooded bell platform. Ty stayed where the sailor had put him, borrowed rope on his right side, and called Dorel through the cabin pipe. Knocking answered from inside. Before Ruvet could bring his hook to the pipe, a submerged mast swung between them and the cabin. Its broken foot passed close enough to scrape the boat’s bow.

Ruvet turned back along the wall. Ty held the rope clear while the sailor brought them to the mill ramp for a longer hook and a way to keep the mast off the cabin. They had heard someone, but had not touched the door.

Ty stepped onto the ramp to help turn the boat. A woman caught its bow with her hook and would not let Ruvet push off again. The little boat was being dragged away from him.

"You came back without him once. You don’t get my fish for another try at Dorel."

Ruvet caught the hook’s wooden shaft before it struck Ty’s shin. His right trouser leg was wet to the thigh. He kept one hand on the boat while the woman pulled.

"I haven’t stopped looking for your son. I can’t reach the cabin from that boat."

"You found a way to put a stranger in it. My son went in before you had a stranger."

Ty let the borrowed rope rest on the ramp. The woman wore yellow net floats across her shoulders, and one hand had been stitched between the knuckles. Beneath the ramp, six fish turned inside a fenced pool. Their bones curved outside their bodies like the painted fish on Tavra’s bakery wall. When she moved her hook, every fish faced its shadow.

Sivra came up from the quay without her funnel. She put a hand over the hook’s iron point, leaving the woman room to pull it away.

"The pipe answered again while you were coming back. I won’t leave that person in there."

"Then use the harbor’s fish, instead of taking ours again."

"Your brother has them at the launch wreck. I sent him there when you asked me."

The woman’s hook slackened. Farther along the wall, men stood beside a net with yellow floats, looking beneath it instead of hauling. Ty had almost asked Sivra when the provision boats would sail. He picked up the rope he had set down, keeping its loose end out of the woman’s way.

"Can we reach the wreck and the cabin on the same approach?" Ty asked Ruvet.

"We can draw the mast away from the cabin. We can’t keep dragging after we have people on the cradle."

The woman jabbed the shaft toward the water. "Bring his launch line clear before you bring anybody off. He tied it with his own knot. My brother can follow it while you open the cabin."

Sivra agreed to send the recovered line to a skiff along the wall, but kept its crew clear of the flooded platform until the bow was held. The woman made her point out which skiff. Only then did she take her hook out of the rescue boat.

Ruvet knelt at the pool. He put his fingers into the water and drew a note from deep in his throat. Ty felt it in his teeth. The fish stopped moving their tails, yet slid toward Ruvet’s hand across the pool’s current. Water puckered between their exposed ribs. Ruvet changed the note, and the nearest fish turned its bones around a soft loop hanging from the fence.

The loop tightened. A basket of wet nets rose from the pool floor, held level while the other five fish took its trailing loops. Ruvet shifted the basket toward the ramp with his voice. When he swallowed, it dropped; water struck Ty’s boots, and the woman caught the handle before it overturned.

Ruvet coughed into his sleeve. A streak of blood marked his lip.

"That’s what you do with fish instead of eating them?" Ty asked.

"We eat plenty. These pull our deep nets home when the current’s against us."

The woman unfastened the pool fence. "They were supposed to breed after this turn. If you send them outside the floats, you won’t call all six home."

Ruvet washed his mouth and looked at her. "I’ll work your nets until you have six again. I can’t call these back once they’re out of earshot."

She put a net with wide soft loops beside him. Ty helped carry it up the ramp, keeping it away from the damaged chain section tied at his chest. The woman stayed at the pool until the last fish had found its loop. She then brought the floating gate up herself.

Beyond them the harbor wall curved upward to the mill’s loading arm. Through its iron stays, Ty saw the bell boat’s overturned platform beneath the surface. At the stern, a corner of cabin and its service ledge hung out into air. The bow chain held it crooked against the submerged mast. A bucket appeared through a narrow opening near the ledge, emptied, and went back inside.

"Dorel, Sivra sent us. Can you hear me from there?" Ty called.

A man’s voice came through the pipe below the window. "There’s three of us in this pocket. I haven’t seen our other rigger since the platform turned."

Ruvet took the longer hook Sivra offered. "That’s Dorel. He taught me where this boat kicks. I was hoping he wouldn’t have to teach me twice."

Ruvet took Ty beneath the loading arm to a cradle with two plank seats and a waist-high rail. A guide rope ran through rings beneath it, its far end loose on the ramp. Ty took the harness he was given and lost its buckle between his remaining fingers.

"Turn it round. The buckle belongs where I can reach it."

Ty turned it. Ruvet worked the strap below his ribs, leaving the left shoulder clear. The sailor’s wet trouser leg left a dark print on the stone when he knelt beside the seat. Ty sat before he could be told twice.

"You got close enough for the water to find you. What stopped you?"

"Their stern ladder was on the loose chain. I climbed until it turned me into the hull. We took the ladder off before it could do that to the next man."

Sivra pointed to the broken rungs beneath the arm. "We tried with that ladder after the first launch came back. The bow sweeps anything that gets close."

Ruvet tightened Ty’s waist strap and stood to look at the bucket opening. "There’s a repair eye beyond that window. I used it when I worked the bell watch. If they can feed a line through it, this cradle can reach their service rail."

Ty took the spool of light cord Ruvet gave him. Beneath the ramp the woman was opening the fish pool toward the sea. A small launch stood ready beside the mill arm, its crew watching for her net rather than for an order from Sivra.

"Will those fish tow us to the cabin too?" Ty asked.

"They’ll turn the mast far enough for us to pass. The mill takes us up. My throat won’t hold both jobs."

The boat gave a low strike. Ty raised his skull toward it. The sound came through the water above the hull, missing the regular spacing he had heard from Neral’s deck. His fingers closed around the spool before he noticed how hard he was gripping it.

Ruvet took it back before the cord slipped beneath Ty’s thumb.

"You’ll cut that line on the wood if you keep squeezing it."

"I’ve heard something like that beyond Mera. Tavra was answering it before we arrived."

The sailor looked toward the inhabited carrier, then back at the damaged hull. "Dorel rang warnings before your carrier came through. That doesn’t tell me what she’s been following."

He called through Sivra’s funnel for the crew to clear the repair eye. An older woman leaned from the window with a short iron bar in her hands. She worked it into a seam, pulled, and stopped when the hull shifted. A younger man reached past her with the bucket hook. Together they brought a small ring out of the broken wood.

"Keep your throw outside the bow chain, Ruvet," the woman called. "The boy can reach the eye, but the keeper box is still against our hatch."

The young rigger missed Ruvet’s first throw but caught the next with his hook. While he threaded the repair eye, the woman took his place by Dorel. Ty could see her bending to hear what the keeper wanted. She brought his leg forward rather than leaving him to crawl closer to the pipe.

Sivra leaned on the ramp rail while they worked. The dressing around her knee had begun to slip, and she tucked it back beneath her trouser seam. Ty watched her refuse a stool a worker had brought from the mill.

"You can sit without losing sight of that window," he told her.

"I need to see the chain below it too. Move your knee off the coil."

He moved. Beneath the timber, Dorel raised the cup of his hand toward them. The young rigger bent to listen, then called that they wanted drinking water. Ty went to the mill door himself and brought back a skin while the woman shifted Dorel’s leg onto a folded coat.

The crew returned the far end of the guide rope through the repair eye. Mill workers took both ends, giving their cradle a way to rise toward the exposed stern. Below it, the fish net waited against the mast’s broken foot. The returning rescue boat had carried its loops there while Ty went for water.

Ruvet climbed into the nearer seat. As the mill crew tested the guide, Ty showed him the sound chain length below his right hand.

"I can reach a latch through that opening. I’ve got fire for a dry snag too."

Ruvet pulled the spare cord away from Ty’s hand. "Dorel will tell us what his leg can bear. Don’t decide from here, and keep your fire away from the net."

Ty rested his right hand on the rail. A green cabin stood halfway along the harbor wall. Lema had pointed it out before he boarded the rescue boat: a provision crew that visited Rillhold. Its door was open now. He could go there and ask someone to take him aboard before the harbor found another use for him.

The woman from the pool came up beside the cradle. She put a yellow float in his hand, threaded on a short cord.

"Send that down with his launch line when you get it," she said. "My brother will know which line to follow."

Ty tied it to the cradle rail where he could reach it. The green cabin remained open. He put the water skin on the seat and sat beside it.

Sivra brought a cup from the mill door. Ty tied it inside the water sling while Ruvet set a hand saw and two wedges beneath the opposite seat. The flattened chain section stayed at Ty’s chest. He tucked the collar against his grooved rib, with the older white ring still by his jaw, and kept the spare links clear of the guide rings.

Another strike came from the boat. The older woman flinched toward the bow before putting her weight against the window rail.

"The carriage runs against its stop whenever we dip," the rigger called. "Dorel thinks the mast has bent its frame. We can’t reach the lash from here."

Ty looked at Sivra. "That could be the note we heard under the sea."

Sivra answered, "It could. Tell me what you see when you reach it. I won’t send my other boats after a guess."

Above him, the window crew made a place for the cradle to stop. At the launch, a man unrolled a second net for the wreck line. The woman pointed to it until Sivra came to stand beside her.

Ruvet fastened his harness and settled with his knees toward the water. The six fish slid beyond their yellow floats; their outer ribs took the net’s soft loops. He tested a note, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and watched the mast rather than Ty. The mill workers lifted their cradle just clear of the stone while the woman stood beside her empty pool, holding its gate open for whatever came back.