Chapter 25 – The Canal Street Riot
	
	For the first time since we’d met the men of the Manoratha, I had a chance to see the ship itself.  I wish it had been under better circumstances, because it was an incredible construction, easily the largest boat I’d ever seen in my life, and beautiful besides.  It was hard to believe mens’ hands had made such a monolith.  It was the size of several blocks of the city, wooden hull stained black with pitch except in the places carved into adornments, which retained their deep honey-brown.  I counted three decks that I could see, the beast must have been an absolute maze inside.  The masts were all bare, but I’d never seen so much ‘rigging’, as they called it, on one ship.  It would have been a marvel to see all the sails unfurled.
	I had a better understanding of how it is the Otherwolves had conquered the seas and come so far from their homeland with so much of their civilization in tow.  This ship was a floating fortress, complete with firearms the size of most men.  We weren’t able to go aboard, being as it was in dry dock and undergoing repairs, but Grayson had recalled his crew over the course of the day and I’d begun to get a good feel for how many people were in his employ.  Hundreds.  And Akachi assured me this was still barely half.  
	This fleet of ‘Privateers’ would have been larger than most warrior bands we could muster in the north country if we combined our allied tribes.  They were armed to the teeth in steel and guns, and many were career soldiers.  And yet still. . . there seemed to be some question as to whether or not they were willing to stand up to Gezan.  
We spent the first few hours of the day gathering around the massive ship like hornets round their nest.  Grayson was mustering his force, emptying his warehouses and pulling out of Debriss.  I’d even heard talk amongst he and his top men that they were considering forgoing further repairs on the Manoratha, in favor of leaving port sooner.  And the reason was very clear.
The Jackwalds were everywhere, alongside other armed men from the Lancaster Cartel, tearing the pier district apart.  Whatever law should have existed in this area of the city were nowhere to be seen, either terrified or paid to look the other way.  The streets were outright riotous, (not that they’d been particular safe before).  On the way to the dry dock we’d run across several armed groups, and it was only because Grayson had a large contingent of men with him that we’d been able to pass un-harassed.  The whole while I’d been wary I’d see one of the Jackwalds who might recognize me, but so far these men seemed to be outliers.
Thankfully before he’d come to get us, Odina had insisted on clearing out our remaining belongings, as well as our horses, from Grayson’s primary warehouse.  She was, as ever, prepared to be on the run at all times.  I was especially grateful for her caution in this case, because Finnegan’s horse ‘Pebbles’ had the manifests and all of the documents Gezan was looking for in her saddlebags.  
Once we’d gotten to the Manoratha itself, we’d had a chance to breathe.  It seemed like the Lancaster Cartel’s presence was intended to do precisely what it was. . . force Grayson’s men out of the pier district so they could sack all of their holdings and drive them back to the sea.  And that’s exactly what they were doing.  A fact which I knew grated on the wolf’s nerves as much as it did mine.  Gezan was once again getting his way.
But all was not lost. 
“The bastard’s spread thin!  We are never going to have a better chance at cutting the head off the damned snake than this.”  Grayson barked, deep in an argument with a few other men who were apparently his ‘Captains’, and ‘First Mates’.  He had other ships, and judging by the volume of the debate going on, the other men of importance in his fleet seemed to have just as much a say in the future of their group.  He’d invited Odina and I to listen in and add what we knew to the ongoing conversation, especially once they’d found out I knew where Gezan was likely to personally be tonight.
“The Fortune’s Favor is small, a frigate,” one of the other Captains, a rat, argued.  “Thirty-two guns at most.  Why would he sail on her when the Lancaster’s in port?  And if he is, how do we know he’ll be shoving off right away?  If we take the time to get the big lass back in the water-”
“He’s trying to get back to Amuresca with Finnegan, as soon as possible,” I said, glancing at the massive ship out of the corner of my eyes.  “I don’t know how long it’s going to take you to get that thing in the water, but it’s going to be too long.”
“The seal’s trying to slip out unnoticed,” Grayson said.  “We’re beached fuckin whales and no one else’s got the stones to take him on.  Also, and I hate to admit this. . .” he sighed, “the man is a damn good seaman in his own right, and he’s got the best crew you can buy.  If we drop my girl in now we’ll be limping along.  Even if we’ve got him out-gunned. . . I don’t think we could catch him.”
“I still don’t see why we’re sticking our noses into this,” one of the other men, a weasel, said.  “We had an arrangement with you lot for a bit of forgery.  Seems to me that business is done.  Whatever your forger’s got himself into here, it’s on him.  We’re losing men and coin a-plenty thanks to this, Admiral,” he said, looking to Grayson.  “Now I get that we lashed our horses to this post to start with, because of them cards.  But hitting back now?  How’s that worth it?”
“He’s making us look like kittens,” Akachi said, speaking up from Grayson’s side.  “How is it going to play out, us being driven out so easily?  How respected do you really think we’ll be, next time we pull into port here?”
“We fought hard for our contracts here,” Grayson said, spreading his paws.  “Do you all really want to go back to the Selthsan?  The Kadrush?”  He emphasized the name of that place in a way that, coupled with the looks of profound dread that passed amongst the group of men, made it clear to me this was not something any of them wanted.  “Deal with Denholme and Cross breathing down our fucking necks every waking day?”  He continued to press.
“No,” at least three of the five men said emphatically.
The mood of the group was still uncertain.  I knew I needed to do something.  Finn was depending on me.  He was out there right now, in pain, being loaded onto some ship that would take him farther from me than I could ever follow.  And I liked my chances of convincing these men it would be worth it for them to chase him down at sea worse than it would be to convince them we could rescue him now, while he was still in the city.
I just. . . had to think like Finn.  Like my mate. 
We’d been together long enough now.  I’d learned a lot from watching him, just as he’d learned so much about survival and the north country from me.  We were in his world now, but I’d watched him navigate it, I’d seen enough to know what mattered to people here.  These men were, while more accepting than many we’d run across, still men of this world.  They were not weighing the options here based on what was right, or what would honor their spirits or ancestors.  They were practical.
“Never mind the fact that we’ve already paid the shipwrights,” the weasel muttered.  “We can’t drop her out of dry-dock now.  As it is, the Jacks are seizing all of our munitions and whatever else they can get their paws on.  This’s gonna cost us, Admiral.  I don’t even think the cards were worth it.”
“Finnegan’s the heir,” I said suddenly, several sets of ears turning towards me.  Grayson in particular gave me a concerned look, as if asking why I’d blurted that out.  “Finnegan. . . is inheriting the entire Lancaster fortune,” I continued.  “That’s why Gezan needs him.  You lot didn’t know that, right?”
Several mouths dropped open.  Including Odina, who was staring at me with the same look she’d given me many other times in the past when I offered what she considered to be ‘too much’ information.  
The weasel looked to Grayson, and more specifically to the fact that the wolf looked more pensive than surprised.  “You knew about this, didn’t you?!”
“The lad isn’t here to speak for himself,” Grayson said, putting a hand out.  “I wasn’t about to drop that until it seemed y’all were for sure dead-set against this.”
	“You can’t just offer his fortune to these men,” Odina whispered fiercely at me in Nontawlik.  “Are you mad?  You could put him in the same situation with. . . a different group looking to exploit him!”
	“I trust Grayson,” I said simply.  
	The wolf gave me a hapless smile.  “Not certain I deserve that, lad,” he said in accented Nontawlik.  
	I looked him in the eyes.  “When we were in that prison, Gezan said something.  Something like. . . ‘no one cares about men like this’.  He used a different word for us.”
	The Admiral’s gaze softened.  For a moment there, beneath the coat, the dazzling jewelry, the mane of dreads and ego, I thought I saw a flash of vulnerability.
“You cared enough to come after Akachi,” I said.  “And the rest of us, even if you insist that was just happenstance.”
“Well I had to make the lady happy, too,” he said, shrugging at Odina with a smirk.  “She never would’ve let me hear the end of it.”
“You have compassion,” I stated unquestioningly, “for those of us pushed to the edges.  I don’t know why you deny it-“
“I have a condition,” he said, his tone falling from jovial to serious in a matter of moments.  The word that he used was actually more like ‘illness’, but I still wasn’t sure what he was referring to.  “If it were ever known, it would weaken my reputation, within my own fleet and to the world at large.”
“Admiral,” one of his Captains spoke up.  “What’s the bear saying?”
	“We’re negotiating,” he said to them in Amurescan.  “It’s easier in his own tongue.”  Then he looked to me again, knitting his brow.  “I know how it feels to be judged for something outside your control.  Something that’s no one else’s god-damned business.  Something that makes people assume you’re weak. . . .”
	He looked back to his men at that, clapping his hands.  “Alright, gents.  How does this sound?  We take the Fortune’s Favor regardless, and ten times the bounty Gezan put on the lad’s head?”
	“Well I’m in,” Akachi said first.
	“Of course you are,” the rat Captain rolled his eyes.  “You’re next up for promotion.  You want that ship.”
	“All the same,” the weasel said with a thoughtful look.  “Did you see that bounty?  That’s a hell of a payout.”
	“I was on the fence, leanin’ to agree regardless,” one of the other Captains spoke up, snarling.  “I don’t like Gezan thinking he owns this whole damn district.”
	“This is beginning to sound unanimous, then,” Grayson said, looking around.  Then he looked to me.  “Fair terms?  We get your boy out, alive. . . he’d best come through.”
	I stuck out a paw, and we shook on it.  I felt only barely worried about agreeing to something like this on Finn’s behalf.  I don’t think he’d have blinked about the coin, if it meant escaping Gezan’s clutches.  But as for what it meant, when all of this was over. . . .
	As Odina and I made our way back towards our belongings, I expected she’d lecture me about the foolishness of what I’d just done.  But instead, she simply asked, “How are you feeling?”
	The way she’d begun to treat me over the last month was more and more reminding me of my mother.  In a good way.  Even when I knew her nerves were frayed and she had plenty of her own reasons to focus on things like anger, or frustration. . . she seemed to worry about my suffering more.  We may have come together in a strange way, but I was honestly starting to feel a deep. . . well. . . love, for her.  I was as frightened of losing her as I was Finnegan, at this point.
	“Angry,” I admitted quietly.  
	“You have every reason to be,” she said.  Then a moment later, “That was a good idea, making that offer.  I’m sorry I questioned it at first, it just startled me.  Until I thought it through.  For what it’s worth, I trust Grayson as well.  I’m not sure about the rest of his men.”
	“What was that about an ‘illness’?”  I wondered aloud.
	She didn’t answer at first.  Her silence told me she knew more than I did. I didn’t intend to push her for more, but she eventually sighed and said, “He told you of it, so I suppose he doesn’t mind you knowing.  Maybe that was his way of giving you something in return for all the information you’ve given him.  I don’t know.  He’s an odd man.”
	“He confessed whatever it was to you earlier, clearly,” I arched an eyebrow.  “Are you two getting close?”
	She glared at me.  “He. . . had one of his ‘incidents’ the night you two went to the tavern.  After returning from the baths.  I was there.  I saw it.  He had to explain it to me afterwards.”
	“ ‘Incidents’?”
	“He seizes,” she explained.  “Not often, according to him.  And he smokes medicine to keep it in check.  The one I saw was brief, but debilitating.  He says he’s had them since he was a child.”
	“I understand,” I said, realizing what he’d meant now.  We’d had an otter in our tribe who had died when I was very young, who suffered from something similar.  I remember how confusing it had been as a child, how some of the adults would talk about them succumbing to malicious spirits, due to a weakness in the mind.
	In an aggressive, unforgiving climate like the one amongst these mercenary sailors, I couldn’t imagine how damaging it would have been for him for something like that to be known.  It would expose him to pity, ridicule. . . possibly worse.
	Just like with Akachi and I though, it was only a matter of time until he was found out.  I’m certain by now, a few of his closest men already knew.  Like Taarush, and the others who’d come with Grayson to help free us from the prison.  Grayson had assured me and the other men from the cell after the fact that they were all well aware of why we’d been locked up, (in the case of some like the mink, there was after all no hiding it) and that he’d only brought those along he knew wouldn’t take issue with men like us.  Most were from other cultures that didn’t share the Otherwolves’ dogma, but a few like him simply didn’t seem to buy into the hateful rhetoric.  Whatever the case, he’d still forewarned me not to speak on any of it once we made it back to his fleet.  Even amongst his own crew, acceptance only ran so deep.
	Odina and I had gathered, along with a few of the men from the prison who’d elected to stay with us, near the edge of one of the warehouses that bordered the dry dock.  When we got there, the crew medic was still tending to the otter, whom we’d made as comfortable as possible.  Arch was watching over him too, as well as the otter’s mate, the auburn fox, and the feline server, whom we’d since learned was called Edward.  Edward in particular had needed some tending to from the medic as well, but afterwards he’d just been sitting there with the others, looking lost.  They all did, really.  I don’t think most of them had anywhere to go, save the mated pair who had a barge somewhere on the river, if the otter was ever well enough to return to it.
	I was about to ask after the otter’s health, until I heard a commotion on the outskirts of the block.  I was tall enough to vaguely see what was going on.  It looked like someone. . . two someones. . . were being jostled through Grayson’s men, dragged and pushed into camp.  One of them was a canine I didn’t recognize, but the other-
	“Rory,” I growled out.  Odina saw me turn and quickly followed me as I stormed towards where the little rat and his skinny canine friend were being taken.  I ended up back near the command group, where some of Grayson’s boys had ‘escorted’ the two, shoving them down onto their knees before the surprised-looking Admiral.
	“Damn, boy,” the wolf shook his head.  “Never thought you’d dare t’poke your snout back in this district again.  What are you thinking?”
	The rat’s eyes were red from crying, his nose wet and dripping.  “Please, sir-“
	“Don’t ‘please, sir’ me,” Grayson shook his head.  “You ain’t got respect for me.  Hell, you clearly ain’t even got respect for yourself.”
	One of Grayson’s boys tried to level a kick at the rat, but the canine teenager who’d come with him bodily blocked the blow, taking it in the ribs instead.  “Yeah, beat up on a kid!”  He said around a cough.  “You’re real big men, aren’t you?!”
	The sailor who’d done it snarled at the curly-tailed canine and began to grab for him, before Grayson shouted a, “Stop!  Enough.”  Then he crouched down before the two of them, looking them over curiously.  “What the hell is this about?”
	“I didn’t want to sell you folks out!”  Rory cried out, sobbing.  “I swear.  It weren’t fer money.  Them Jack boys followed me outta the warehouse one night’n back to m’home a’the inn.  They been campin’ the place out e’er since.”  He sniveled, sucking in a breath.  “They hurt my sister.  Bad.  They said they’d leave if’n I kept an eye on th’bear and the wolf lad.  I did wot they said and they still ain’t left!”
	“There are four of them at the Inn,” the canine said.  I’d never met him before, but he looked like a young man, probably a few years younger than me.  He was a dog, with white and rust-colored fur, the white forming a mask around his face, his tail bushy and curled.  He wore all the trappings of someone from Rory’s district aside from that.  “All armed, obviously,” he continued.  “I can’t handle four of them blighters.”
	“Boy, you don’t look like you can ‘handle’ much more than the rat here,” Grayson pointed out.
	“I have a flintlock,” the canine insisted.  “I learned to fix ‘em up when I was in the City Service.  But. . . it’s just me.  Usually in our neighborhood it’s enough to keep the peace, you know?  But there are just too many of ‘em. . . .”
	“What are you, the guardian angel of guttersnipes?”  Grayson chuckled.
	“He’s my big brother,” Rory hiccupped.  “He’s everyone’s big brother, i’my neighborhood.  Takes care o’us.”
	“Look, are you lot moving on Gezan?”  The gawky canine asked, looking fearlessly around at the armed mob around him.  Something in his open, blue eyes spoke to me.  He had to have known coming here with Rory could have gotten him killed, and it wasn’t even his blood kin in danger.  He was doing this for Rory’s family.  I respected that.
	“That ain’t really your-“
	“What if we are?”  I spoke up.  Some of Grayson’s men looked irritated I’d interrupted him, but the wolf himself just looked on me appraisingly.
	“Shake them boys loose from Rory’s family’s Inn,” the canine said, looking directly to me now.  “And I’ll get you into the warehouse down on 31st, through canals he won’t be expecting you to take.  I know my way down there, better’n most even.  There’s an old loading dock, goes right inside that building with the tin roof.  They used to bring rum through there.”
	“How do you know about the warehouse?”  I asked, pointedly.
	“I overheard ‘im talking about it,” Rory said weakly.  Then a moment later, looking through one swollen eye and another clouded with tears, he said specifically to me, “I’m sorry, Tulimak.  I-I liked you two.”
	I gave him a long, hard look.  Even now, I wondered if he was playing me.  And that was hard for me to even consider, because every fiber of my being wanted to believe a crying child.  But in this place, nothing was what it seemed.
	I decided at length that even if these tears were for show, they were probably still for the sake of saving his family.  And if his story was true in its entirety, I would have to forgive him.  I owed him the chance to prove it.
	“We can make a stop, right?”  I asked Grayson.
	The wolf rubbed his chin scruff.  “I s’pose even if it’s some sorta’ trap, our only other plan was to walk into the lion’s den through the front door, anyway.  What the hell?”
	I offered a hand to the skinny dog, helping him up.  “What’s your name?”  I asked.
	“Grant,” he said around another cough.  “Look, I hope you’re serious about taking down the head of the Lancaster Cartel.  I know a lot of kids too scared to play outside anymore, thanks to all the one’s gone missing of late.  The City Guard doesn’t care.  I even tried to tell my Training Officer from the Service, and they can’t help either.  Someone’s gotta do something about that man.  If I take you down there, you’ve got to promise me you won’t just pilfer his ship and leave.”
	“Scorched earth,” Grayson promised, darkly.  
	“Someone’ll just take his place, eventually,” the canine said, his ears drooping.  “But things can’t possibly get worse than they’ve been under him.”
	“What’s feedin’ that man’s power is a lot of foreign capital,” Grayson said, then looked to me.  “If we can cut off that tap, no one’ll be able to fill that void for a while.”
	“I know it’s what Finn would want,” I said stoically.  
	The wolf grinned.  “Let’s make war, gents!”
	Raucous cries went up amongst all the men gathered close enough to hear, and soon many more joined in, like a wave going up through the camp.  I found myself roaring alongside them, lifting my axe alongside rifles, sabers, scimitar and pistols, and fists of every stripe and color.  I had never before been part of an army, but this wasn’t how I’d ever imagined it would be.  This wasn’t about a nation, it wasn’t about religion, or land, or culture.
	The one thing all of these disparate peoples had in common was that we were outcasts.  For every imaginable reason.  Some of us had been born outcasts, some had chosen not to align themselves with the powers that be.  But we were all here now, bound for as many reasons as we had differences.  Whether we fought for coin, solidarity of class, a place to belong, or love, we fought together.
	The earth would tremble beneath our feet.

	Four good-for-nothing men might have been a match for a small family of terrified, unarmed rats, but it turns out they were not a match for us.  
	The young man who’d called himself ‘Grant’ insisted on going in first, to serve as a distraction while we went around back.  I worried for his safety, but he said he knew the family and had already spoken to the men there once, when Rory had first come to him for help.  It might have seemed pointless to risk his life when we had overwhelming numbers on our side, but he’d pointed out- rightly so- that the men who’d taken over the Inn essentially had the family held hostage, and going in guns blazing probably wasn’t the best move.
	So instead, he’d gone in to bring some medicine for one of Rory’s sisters who’d been badly beaten when she’d resisted one of the men. . . I really didn’t like thinking about it, honestly.  But I believed Rory now.
	Grant used the excuse that he wanted to tend to the girls to gather them on one side of the Inn, while we busted our way in from the back.  What followed was short, and bloody.  As it turns out, the men were all drunk by that point anyway, having thoroughly ransacked the Inn’s bar.  I mostly ran to Grant and the girls and played bodyguard during the short fight so no one could bull past Grayson’s men and try to use one of the family members as a shield.  
	Taarush the leopard, the boar I’d seen several times now, and a pack of Grayson’s more brutal boys tore those men apart unmercifully, sticking to blades in the confined and cluttered space.  It was surreal seeing this place. . . Finn, Odina and I had a meal and drinks here just a few weeks ago, our first meal in Debriss. . . turned into a bloody charnel house.
	But there was no doubt it needed to be done.
	Afterwards, Rory clutched tight to his sisters, the ten-year-old trying painfully hard to remain calm and reassure the older girls.  Grant told him in no uncertain terms to leave with them and hunker down with his own family.  The little rat nodded fiercely, apparently knowing where to go without further instruction.
	As the rat family fled from the building, I caught Rory’s eyes once on his way out the door.  He still looked afraid of me- or maybe he was just afraid of everything, right now.  I wanted so badly to tell him how sorry I was.  I had so many tumultuous feelings washing through me.  Regret, for having unknowingly involved him and his family in this.  Shame, for having hated a child for his actions, even briefly.  Anger, because some part of me knew that what had been done to us, to both of us, hadn’t been either of our faults.  But yet, I knew it would always haunt me.
	All I could do was say, “Please be safe, Rory,” to him as he left.
	He gave a shaky nod.  “You. . . t-too.”
	And then they were gone.
	Grayson moved into the inn behind some of his men, looking the place over.  He stepped right over the fallen bodies of two of the Jackwalds without a second thought.  “Alright, we’ve got to move fast.  How far is it from here to the warehouse, using this canal route you know of?”
	“Faster if we can get a few boats,” Grant said.  “Can you. . . ah. . . ?”
	Grayson gave him the most wasting look.  “Lad.  Who is it you think you’re talking to?”
	We moved back outside to the streets, where the Manoratha men had begun to push back against the Jackwalds.  All around, we could hear the sounds of gunfire, of men fighting in alleyways and warehouses.  Grayson lifted his voice as he stepped outside to re-join his Commanding Officers.
	“Have the bulk of the men push towards 31st Street,” he ordered.  “Make it clear that’s where we’re headed, but take your time.  Once they realize where you’re going, they’ll come loaded for bear.  When they bring the rifle lines out, I want you to scatter.  Don’t turn this into a real firefight.  They’re not going to want to either, if this thing gets too out-of-hand the Guard might actually decide to do something and send in the Navy.  We don’t want that, Gezan doesn’t want that.  Just give them what they’re expecting, a turf war.”      
	“Yessir,” several of the men said, moving out into the streets and calling for their men.  Grayson’s personal retinue stayed behind, along with several of those who’d chosen to fight beside Odina and I.  Amongst them were Archibald, who claimed to have been a Navy man and a Stevedore, and not bad with a cudgel, Grant, who’d be leading us, and Akachi, who despite being a senior officer in Grayson’s crew had absolutely insisted on staying beside his Admiral.
	“We need to get to your boats fast,” Grant said, moving down the street towards the pier.  “And to the canals faster, if we want to get into that warehouse before this whole city is torn apart.”
	“Well we can lower the davits real quick,” Grayson said.  “Had, ah. . . unfortunately more experience with that than I’d like.  But the ship’s boats are only as fast as their crew are at the oars, so I’ll put my strongest-“
	“Let me row,” I demanded.  
	Grayson glanced at me once.  “Yeah,” he agreed.  “You got it.”

	It isn’t often your trade skill comes up in a life-or-death situation.  But suffice it to say, of the three ten-man boats we loaded in to and took out on the bay, mine was leagues ahead of the pack for most of the short journey.  At a few points we actually had to slow down to allow the others to catch up.  Thankfully, Grant had come in our boat, so we were able to lead the way to the right canal entrance.
	I hardly recognized it as such at first.  It just looked like a decaying section of the dock and an unusual protrusion in the bay, flanked on either side by a rotting log wall that doubled as a dam for piles of refuse.  This seemed to be a dumping ground for the city.  The sides of the canal as we entered were lined with wood and brick debris, old wagon wheels, fishing nets and lines, even the bleached-white bones of old animal carcasses.  At least I. . . hoped they’d been animals.
	Grant pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and tied it round his nose, and I soon learned why.  The smell was enough to push you back in your seat, and I unfortunately had a very good sense of smell.  It was so over-powering, it was almost numbing.  The water here, the further we went in after passing under a few bridges, and then the first of the old warehouses the canal cut through, was stagnant and thick with runoff from the city.  It smelled of tanneries, of sewage, of rotting food and death.  It churned and bubbled in places, for unknown reasons.
	I sunk my oars in, feeling the familiar burn in my arms.  The ghost of the pain in my shoulder, the more recent pain in my forearm, grounded me.  I tried to focus on that feeling, because it reminded me of how I’d gotten the wounds.  And that reinforced why were here.  Why we were doing this.
	Somewhere in this rank and terrible place, my mate was suffering.  He was probably worried terribly for me as well, and despairing over my fate.  But if I knew Finn, he wasn’t going to wallow in his fear and pain for long.  He was going to do something.  Probably something selfless, reckless, and. . . stupid.
	And that worried me more than anything.  Because I couldn’t save him if he’d already died by the time I arrived.
	I dug my oars in deeper.
	“Alright, alright, here,” Grant said, keeping his voice low and gesturing to a bend in the canal.  Ahead of us, it split.  “Right.  Then a little while down. . . but we should be as quiet as we can.  We’ll be under buildings for most of this entire block, but every sound carries down here.”
	Grayson, standing at the front of our boat near our guide, stood slowly and whistled down towards the other two boats.  The whistle sounded like some kind of seabird.  Behind us came two answering calls, from men in both of the other two boats.  And what few murmurs there had been emanating from the boats. . . stopped.
	“Pull your oars in closer,” he told me lowly, sitting back down.  “Narrows ahead.”
	I did so, leaning forward a bit and tipping my ears towards the wooden slats above us, barely obscuring the decrepit buildings we were moving beneath.  It seemed like in a lot of places, they’d just built directly over the canal, with little in the way of supports for the floors of the warehouses.  Suffering disrepair, much of the city above was collapsing into the canals below.  My oar would catch and snag on fallen beams or spirits-knows-what from time to time, and I had to carefully extract it while making as little noise as possible.  I worried eventually we’d hit fallen debris that would block the boats’ paths completely and have to continue on foot.  Which would be challenging to say the least, because the water in these channels was still actually quite deep.  Not to mention thick with refuse we’d risk hurting ourselves on.
	But it was clear someone had been coming through here, pushing obstructions to the sides of the canal to ensure it could still be used.  The city’s underground trade, most likely.  Even possibly Gezan himself, since it seemed likely he used this warehouse specifically because of its access to the canals.
	It would be sweet irony if his illicit dealings literally paved the way to his downfall.
	Above us, I could hear the distant sounds of the city.  Hooves on paving stone, water draining from rooves after the recent storm, the occasional wagon or carriage.  And the canines, I’m certain, could hear even more.  At one point we stopped, and the echoing cacophony of men arguing came and went, fading as if they were moving away from us.
	We rounded the corner slowly, the canal here bubbling out to a wider area presumably used for boats to turn in.  Blue moonlight streamed in through cracks in the world above, throwing off flickering colors around us from the murky, oily water.  Distantly, although it was nearly impossible to tell how far down here, there was some sort of lantern.  Down here in the canals, not coming from above.  Figures moved through the thinly illuminated fog, little more than suggestions of movement from this far away.
	“That’s the landing,” Grant said in a quiet whisper, hunkering down further into the boat, checking his pistol.  
	We had no lanterns on our boats, so it was unlikely they’d seen us yet.  And no one could have smelled our approach in this place.  But I wasn’t sure how far we could push that.  The men there had to be on guard.  If this really was his stronghold. . . .
	“What now?”  Odina asked softly.
	“This warehouse must be near the pier the Fortune’s Favor is moored at,” Grayson said.  “We can’t know whether he’s on board yet, or still there overseeing.  But if I were him, I’d have Ambrose on the Favor by now.  Locked down tight in the brig.”  He looked to me specifically.  “Now, it’s a small ship, but that’ll almost always be on the lowest deck.  Somewhere in the belly.”
	I nodded.  “I’ll find him.”
	“I’m coming with you,” Odina said.
	“It’s going to be absolute bedlam when we get in there,” Grayson said, “but the bulk of his men and possibly the main man himself will be in the warehouse, so me’n my boys will cover that.  We’ll do our best to make sure no one slips past us.  Once we’re certain he’s fuckin’ dead, we’ll join you on the Favor and get her moving, before the rest of the Jacks close in on us.  Ought to be easy, she’s a small lass and I’m sure she’s ready to sail.”
	“And. . . after. . . ?”  I said uncertainly.  
	“You think too far ahead,” the wolf grinned.  
	Odina began checking her rifle, swearing softly.  “This fog. . . no good for powder.”
	“Tell me about it,” Grayson muttered.
	The canines alerted to the sound of rumbling like uneven thunder, and a growing roar of voices, before the rest of us did.  The noise was indescribable, like the cacophony of the city, but angrier. . . punctuated by the shriek of steel and soon, the occasional pop of pistol fire.
	It was rather far off from us still, but coming closer in pockets of swarming activity, moving above us through the city like a caribou stampede making its way through dense forest.  I saw some of the men in the boats dragging their hands up over their bodies in a form of silent prayer, while others merely tried to listen for their fellows.
	“A lot of my men are going to die tonight,” Grayson said, staring ahead down the misty canal.  “Let’s pay it back twofold.”  He looked to me.  “Tulimak?”
	I straightened my back and re-gripped the oars, setting my jaw.  “Everyone get down,” I warned.  “They’ll fire on us, I’m certain.”
	Ours was the first boat in the charge, so the likelihood was, we’d take the brunt of the fire.  Down here in the dark and the fog, I was hopeful most shots would go astray.  But I’d be exposed, being the one to row us in.  I was glad to do it.  It had taken a hell of a beating in the Basin, but I was wearing my father’s- my blood father’s- thick hide parka.  It had saved me once already.  Perhaps today it would do so again.
	Grayson gave another of those bird calls, then hunkered down as low as he could, pulling one of his pistols.  Odina did the same, but with her rifle.  Everyone else followed suit.  I gripped the oars, and prayed to any spirits that were listening that we hit no obstructions in the water.  And then I began to row.
	Countless times since I’d begun to grow into this body, I’d cursed my size.  My height, my weight, my big arms.  Now, those arms were a battering ram, forging my way into the heart of this beast.  If I survived this, I promised myself I would love my arms as much as Finn did.  I would never take them for granted again.
	The lantern light grew brighter in the distance.  The silhouettes began to solidify into shadows.  And the first of the shots came.
	Gunfire skipped across the water, burying in the debris and the stone walls around us.  My pace felt infinitely too slow, even though I knew I was giving it all I had.  Odina, Grayson and others leaned up briefly to take shots towards the distant landing, before ducking back down into the boat.  One shot clipped the bow, wooden splinters exploding near Grayson’s shoulder.  I didn’t have time to see if the wolf was hurt.  I kept my eyes fixed ahead on the water, looking for the quickest, clearest path.  And I kept rowing.     
	Another round of fire, this time close enough to sting the walls around us, at least two of the shots striking our boat.  I felt water welling up around my toes, and heard a punched-out gasp from the boat behind us, followed by the splash of someone tumbling off into the water.  Probably a ricochet. . . I didn’t have time to see who’d been hit, or whether or not they’d pull through.
	I gave it absolutely every ounce of strength my body had, past the point where my muscles screamed at me to stop.  The boat was dragging something along the bottom, that or the water was too shallow here.  Even going full force, it felt like we were sluggishly crawling our way through the canal.  
	Odina finished re-loading her rifle and leaned around the bow, taking another shot.  There was a cry, followed by the splash of one of men on the platform plunging into the canal, then shouting and the scrape of wood on earth as the men there clearly tried to drag in something to use as a makeshift blind.
	Grayson was hunkered down next to Odina, something flickering in his hand.  I could tell it was a match, but no idea what it was he was lighting.  His pistol shouldn’t need a match. . . .
	“I’ve only got one of these,” he warned for some reason, glancing back towards everyone on the boat.  “Everyone cover your ears!”  He raised his voice loud enough for the boat behind us to hear, as well.
	I couldn’t let go of the oars, and I wasn’t sure how important it would be for me to do so, so I merely ducked my head.  Grayson threw something off into the dark, towards the lantern-lit platform in the distance.  A cry of alarm went up amongst the men there, but then nothing for a second or two afterwards.
	And then the platform exploded in fire and smoke, and a clap louder than any gunshot I’d ever heard, like a thousand storms all roaring in one booming instant.  My vision went white for a moment, all sound blanked out to a distant ringing, and smoke enveloped us.