Read Online The Devil Incarnate (The Devil of Ponong series #2) by Jill Braden - Free Book Online
Authors: Jill Braden
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QuiTai’s seeping wound.
LiHoun was
immediately at QuiTai’s side. His hair stood on end and his ears flattened.
QuiTai winced as
skin pulled away with the bandage.
The children looked
up from their work. Without a word, they quickly stacked their papers away and
then stepped through the typhoon shutters onto the veranda.
“We’re going to have
to open those punctures so they can drain,” RhiHanya said. She locked her gaze
on QuiTai. “And flush them with water until they’re clean. Otherwise, we’ll
have to use maggots.”
While she understood
and agreed, QuiTai couldn’t help but shudder a little.
RhiLan put the blade
of her knife into the cooking flame before reaching for her herb cabinet again.
“And black lotus, for mercy.”
Chapter 5: The Winged Dragon
Hadre
refused to be humiliated by his new command, even though the Winged Dragon should have been scuttled
years ago. Once upon a time, a very, very long time ago, the Winged Dragon had been the pride of the
Zul fleet. As he inspected the junk, Hadre found the hull sound and the ageing
vessel meticulously maintained. Malk, being the son of one of Grandfather’s
daughters, probably never expected to be promoted from his command and thus had
made the most of it. But still, the sails were in terrible shape, as if the
junk had been caught on the fringes of a typhoon, and the rudder needed an
overhaul.
Grandfather knew how to pick his punishments.
After dinner with
his officers in his extremely small cabin, Hadre dismissed them and sat down at
the scarred desk to write his weekly report. Grandfather probably expected
complaints. He’d be damned if he’d humor the old tyrant.
Lately, his mouth
constantly pressed into a tight line. Defying Grandfather was always wasted
effort, but he couldn’t have lived with himself if he hadn’t tried.
It took quite a long
time to compose his message. Words of frustration and anger snuck into what
he’d hoped would be a polite and emotionless report. As he wrote, the paper
filled with snide remarks that he crossed out. He balled it up and threw it
against the unpacked trunk that held his few possessions. It bounced off the
trunk and rolled under his desk. He took a fresh sheet and began again.
Sir, after inspecting
the Winged Dragon , I have found it to
be seaworthy and well maintained through the excellent leadership of Cousin
Malk and his diligent crew. However, I would like permission to replace the
sails before we venture out of port, as it is typhoon season and I doubt they
would withstand strong winds.
The officers had not
been informed about the cargo we are to take on and I was unable to ask cousin
Malk before he took command of the Golden Barracuda.
His former ship’s name came out in fat lines that blurred
together as he pressed too hard on the pen. Grandfather wouldn’t see his
writing, though, so he continued.
If we are to bring a
shipment of medusozoa back to Thampur, I would be obliged if you’d arrange to
have the rudder refitted upon our return. However, if we are scheduled to sail
to the Li Islands, it would be best to perform the necessary maintenance before
we attempt to negotiate the Ponong Fangs. Please advise. HnZ
That, he decided, was the best he could do. He rose from the
desk and opened a cabinet on the wall beside the door to the flying bridge. A
small desk folded out. The keyboard for the ship’s farwriter slid forward. He
made sure the battery connections weren’t corroded, consulted his journal for
today’s frequency, and carefully typed out his prepared message.
Hadre had already placed his journal into the desk drawer
– neatness was mandatory on a ship – and was about to lock away the
farwriter when the little brass bell on the side struck, indicating that he had
an incoming message. The message would print out even if the farwriter was unattended,
but the Zul way was to read and destroy all messages at the soonest possible
moment, so while he was in no
LiHoun was
immediately at QuiTai’s side. His hair stood on end and his ears flattened.
QuiTai winced as
skin pulled away with the bandage.
The children looked
up from their work. Without a word, they quickly stacked their papers away and
then stepped through the typhoon shutters onto the veranda.
“We’re going to have
to open those punctures so they can drain,” RhiHanya said. She locked her gaze
on QuiTai. “And flush them with water until they’re clean. Otherwise, we’ll
have to use maggots.”
While she understood
and agreed, QuiTai couldn’t help but shudder a little.
RhiLan put the blade
of her knife into the cooking flame before reaching for her herb cabinet again.
“And black lotus, for mercy.”
Chapter 5: The Winged Dragon
Hadre
refused to be humiliated by his new command, even though the Winged Dragon should have been scuttled
years ago. Once upon a time, a very, very long time ago, the Winged Dragon had been the pride of the
Zul fleet. As he inspected the junk, Hadre found the hull sound and the ageing
vessel meticulously maintained. Malk, being the son of one of Grandfather’s
daughters, probably never expected to be promoted from his command and thus had
made the most of it. But still, the sails were in terrible shape, as if the
junk had been caught on the fringes of a typhoon, and the rudder needed an
overhaul.
Grandfather knew how to pick his punishments.
After dinner with
his officers in his extremely small cabin, Hadre dismissed them and sat down at
the scarred desk to write his weekly report. Grandfather probably expected
complaints. He’d be damned if he’d humor the old tyrant.
Lately, his mouth
constantly pressed into a tight line. Defying Grandfather was always wasted
effort, but he couldn’t have lived with himself if he hadn’t tried.
It took quite a long
time to compose his message. Words of frustration and anger snuck into what
he’d hoped would be a polite and emotionless report. As he wrote, the paper
filled with snide remarks that he crossed out. He balled it up and threw it
against the unpacked trunk that held his few possessions. It bounced off the
trunk and rolled under his desk. He took a fresh sheet and began again.
Sir, after inspecting
the Winged Dragon , I have found it to
be seaworthy and well maintained through the excellent leadership of Cousin
Malk and his diligent crew. However, I would like permission to replace the
sails before we venture out of port, as it is typhoon season and I doubt they
would withstand strong winds.
The officers had not
been informed about the cargo we are to take on and I was unable to ask cousin
Malk before he took command of the Golden Barracuda.
His former ship’s name came out in fat lines that blurred
together as he pressed too hard on the pen. Grandfather wouldn’t see his
writing, though, so he continued.
If we are to bring a
shipment of medusozoa back to Thampur, I would be obliged if you’d arrange to
have the rudder refitted upon our return. However, if we are scheduled to sail
to the Li Islands, it would be best to perform the necessary maintenance before
we attempt to negotiate the Ponong Fangs. Please advise. HnZ
That, he decided, was the best he could do. He rose from the
desk and opened a cabinet on the wall beside the door to the flying bridge. A
small desk folded out. The keyboard for the ship’s farwriter slid forward. He
made sure the battery connections weren’t corroded, consulted his journal for
today’s frequency, and carefully typed out his prepared message.
Hadre had already placed his journal into the desk drawer
– neatness was mandatory on a ship – and was about to lock away the
farwriter when the little brass bell on the side struck, indicating that he had
an incoming message. The message would print out even if the farwriter was unattended,
but the Zul way was to read and destroy all messages at the soonest possible
moment, so while he was in no
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