Read Gloria Oliver for Free Online Page A

crosspiece over the scale to align it against the star and the horizon to find the angle of their latitude, just as Captain Valez had taught him.
    The North Star wavered again in his vision, and his stomach rumbled. The swirling wind whipped his ponytail up into his face as he handed the cross-staff back. Taking the map again and a few of the other tools, as well as an empty logbook, he sat on the ice-cold deck. He tried to recall all the necessary computations and, though lightheaded, tried to do them as best he could.
    He became aware of Asaka’s green stare raking over him.
    After several minutes, Toshi came up with what might be a close answer. He was about to give it to Asaka when his tortured stomach gave up and heaved with all its might. Clamping his hands over his mouth, he tried to keep in the lumpy, burning mess that suddenly rose from inside him. Forgetting everything but his screaming stomach, he ran for the ship’s rail.
    Almost falling overboard in his eagerness to get there, he clung to the railing as his stomach heaved again. Not able to hold back anymore, he opened his mouth and let the burning torrent empty to the sea.
    The acrid smell of vomit filled his nose as his throat burned. His stomach continued to heave long past the point at which it was empty.
    Even in his present misery, he couldn’t help but notice the quiet, overbearing presence of the samurai who came to stand by his side. It occurred to his tortured mind to wonder if Asaka was considering throwing him overboard. Perhaps it would prove to be a kindness if he did.
    “Sir, I mean no disrespect, but I don’t think this ignorant boy is going to be of any use to us,” the steersman said. “It may take a long time, but I’m sure I can eventually—”
    “Silence!” The samurai’s voice roared at Toshi’s side. He ignored it, still trying to stop his heaving stomach, inwardly grateful the shouting hadn’t been directed at him. After another minute, his stomach finally began to settle a little. He closed his eyes, letting the flowing wind cool his face as he tried to disregard the ship’s continuing movements.
    “I asked you for our location, boy.” Asaka’s voice bore down on him.
    He turned his drawn, pale face away from the rail and stared at the map the samurai held out to him.
    Leaning against the bar, not trusting his wobbling legs to remain beneath him, he carefully took the map and then the other tools and dropped to the deck, his back against the railing.
    He stared at the swaying map and rechecked his calculations. Again getting the same answer, he moved an unsteady finger to point out their position, which lay near the coast.
    Refusing to glance at Asaka as the samurai looked over his shoulder, he held his finger in place. Asaka took the map from him, his only acknowledgment of the information being a barely audible humph . Not looking back, the samurai strode to the skeleton manning the ship’s tiller. Toshi tried hard not to care.
    The bent skeleton walked up to him. Though he had no liking for the fleshless grin that approached him, he couldn’t find the strength to move from where he was. Never looking directly at him, the retainer took the instruments from his unresisting hands and walked away.
    Unable to swallow away the acrid taste still in his mouth, Toshi closed his eyes and sat as unmoving as possible on the rocking deck. He drew his knees up and curled his arms around his legs, the cold seeping into him from the planks. Trying not to moan in his undiminishing misery, he suddenly opened his eyes. He felt someone staring at him. He barely realized it was Asaka before the latter abruptly reached out for his arm. He cringed at the unavoidable touch, a spear of fear shooting through him. Yet, when the fleshless fingers wrapped around his flesh, no trace of the paralyzing touch reached his skin.
    “Get up,” Asaka said.
    Using the rail and the samurai’s pull on his arm for support, he scrambled to his feet. He