CH1120 · Rewrite
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Chapter 1120: A Cape City

“Ship’s coming! Let’s go!”

Simbady’s fist punched the air. The Fishbone clansmen were already moving before the shout finished — cables, springboards, the efficient chaos of a working dock where everyone knew their role. A year and a half ago, these people had never seen the sea. You wouldn’t know it now.

The ship was unloaded quickly.

“Simbady — loading now! Red or black, and how many?”

“Written on the back of my hand. Begin!”

Black meant Blackwater — the combustible dark liquid from the Styx River that the Endless Cape produced first and most. But as the mine expanded, the Sand Nationals had found two more underground streams: one deep red, one dark green. Both flammable, both different. They kept the original name for the original product. Northerners adopted it without fuss.

This was Simbady’s fourth time working the Festive Harbor dock.

He remembered the first. His only plan had been to survive three months and leave this place as far behind as possible. He had expected nothing from the Endless Cape because the Endless Cape had nothing — no water, no shade, no food, only heat, danger, and the dry wind off the sea. Sand Nationals called it what it was: a place to exile prisoners. Even experienced hunters didn’t survive on this land. The idea of building a city here was the kind of idea you didn’t say aloud in front of serious people.

What Simbady understood now was that they had simply never looked.


Water was the first problem, and it had seemed the least solvable.

The northern official Konkrete had led them to a pond ringed by sheds hung with black films. Simbady had seen nothing remarkable. Then the Months of Demons passed, the heat climbed, and white salt crystallized from the edges of the seawater while vapor condensed on the undersides of the black films, trickled down, pooled in a groove, and ran into a storage tank. One pond yielded almost nothing. A hundred yielded more. Several hundred yielded enough for daily use and surplus for Neverwinter ships.

Water from what had always been there, unseen.

Shelter next. Tents didn’t answer the heat. Northerners showed them to dig clay from the seafloor, mix it with sifted fine sand, fuel the furnaces with Blackwater, press bricks. The first houses had double-bricked walls and thick ceilings. Not elegant. Solid.

Last, food. Thuram of the Osha Clan showed them to stake nets along the beach so the tide covered them and uncovered their catch — crabs, sea snakes, sea urchins. Simbady had looked at these creatures and felt genuine revulsion. He’d eaten under the implicit weight of the alternative. Then he admitted they were good.

The staples still came from Neverwinter. But less of them were needed.


After three months, Simbady stayed. He still surprised himself with it, looking back. Two reasons: the pay was far better than anything at the Port of Clearwater; and the other reason, which he thought about less often and more carefully.


The last ship was loaded. The dock wound down.

“Good work, Simbady.”

“See you tomorrow, Big Sim!”

“Heading to the marketplace — come?”

He’d become superintendent for the Fishbone Clan without quite meaning to — the person Thuram sent new tasks to, the one the young men looked to for decisions. Back at the Silver Stream Oasis, he’d been nobody: one of the most overlooked members of the clan. No one had voluntarily spoken to him for leadership. Now young men and women both did. Some of the women asked him out.

He turned them all down.

He was looking for Mulley.


“Simbady! Wait for me!”

He turned smiling. The smile froze.

Mulley — black ponytail, always generous, always the one who could make you feel like the coming thing was survivable — was walking toward him with her hand wrapped around another man’s.

Not a Mojin. The cut of his clothes, the set of his shoulders, the way he moved on solid ground as if it surprised him slightly — all of it said elsewhere. Said across water. Said Fjords.

“Mulley.” His voice came out flat. “You and him.”

“Oh!” She looked at their joined hands like she’d just discovered them there. She let go. “I wanted you to meet him.”

“She basically dragged me,” the man said, still catching his breath. A note of genuine admiration for the grip. “Now I understand what people say about Mojin Clan strength.” He studied Simbady. “I’m Rex. From the Fjords.”

“I know where the Fjords are,” Simbady said, stepping forward — between them, instinctively. “I don’t have relics. Leave.”

The last three months had been an education. Fjords people had descended on the Festive Harbor in numbers, calling themselves explorers: digging test holes everywhere, buying goods with counterfeit coin, stripping the black films from the evaporation sheds — the water supply’s lifeline — before the First Army arrived and escorted them to Neverwinter for lifetime labor. One had fallen into an underground river and needed rescuing. Another had nearly started a brawl over stolen stones. Every Fjords citizen who arrived was, until proved otherwise, a problem in human form.

“I’m not buying anything,” Rex said. He held his hands open. Not defensive — the gesture of a man who had done this before and knew how it looked. “I prefer to work my way up. Better for the reputation of the Society of Wondrous Crafts.”

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